A/N: title reads as "Baatein" in Hindi, the word for "talking"

Jonghyun teased the paper napkin between his fingers, eyes following the tall waiter as he moved from table to table with his steaming kettle. He’d been coming to this particular restaurant for weeks now, never ordering anything other than a hot cup coffee. He’d been coming here to fill his heart and not his stomach.

I looked at you and I kept looking
I opened my mouth and left the words waiting

"More for you, juinnim?" a delicate wrist tilted towards his cup. He stared at that unfaltering sweet smile, smiled at that soft cottony voice, forgetting to nod. But those muddy brown orbs never lifted to look at him anyway, and that made him sigh out at the sight of the other’s retreating back. If he could stop the man from walking away once… just once.

The blue flood inside me races every day
The red space in half my heart begs you to stay

He defeatedly scrunched the paper napkin in his fist, looking out of the window to throw out the dregs of his courage. Like every other day. Quickly gulping down the piping drink without a care for his protesting tongue, he pocketed his pen and made to leave.

Every corner I turn leads me to where you wait
But I mistrust the road, my feet, my shoes, my gait

A few minutes later Minho returned to clear the man’s table, and sure enough there was another poem waiting for him. Like every other day. He looked around to check if anyone was watching before stuffing the crumpled words into his apron. For the rest of his shift, his smile was especially wide.

Hear the twang in my voice, hear my hands wish aloud
Let our sights meet once in the blind unrecognizable crowd