by ohmyshixun

there is a low hum of conversation with every turn of his heel as he pads through aisles of books on a saturday morning. sehun could distinguish heated debates over the “harry potter” series or the “star wars” franchise—how disney may or may not ruin the glory of george lucas' masterpiece! and he's tempted to chime in, what matters most is that there will be a seventh installment after three decades, but chooses to walk further away from a potential catfight, tight-lipped and somewhat amused.

a few more steps deeper into the bookstore, and he eventually finds himself haply ruminating over murakami's “1Q84”, orwell's “animal farm”, or palahniuk's “fight club”. sehun would never have the heart to call himself a bookworm, but openly admits to spending a rather small fortune on volumes upon volumes of novels that range from sci-fi to chick lit, politics to mystery. he finds beauty in words, finds himself lost among the stories that have been or are yet to be told.

with a huff and puff, sehun makes a motion to grab all three novels when he is momentarily distracted by a groan to his right. his eyes fall upon a shorter man, fingers resting on his chin and lips pouted in a contemplative manner as if expecting the books to decide for himself. the man grabs a novel—murakami's “colorless tsukuru and his years of pilgrimage”—and flips the book to check the price tag. but with a heavy sigh, he puts the book down and ventures for another, disappointed.

what sehun doesn't understand, however, is not why the man seems to stomp his way through volumes of books, but his habit of going back to that one novel and leaving with his lower lip protruding in a pout with every return. but on what seemed like his last trip to that particular aisle, the stranger opens the book, and there is warmth in the pit of his stomach as sehun watches from a generous distance with awe and fondness—how a scowl melts into a timid smile then a quiet chuckle as if the joke was the stranger and the book's little secret.

there is an oddity in being drawn to a complete stranger, but much more now that sehun is approaching the said man with the intention of striking a conversation that could potentially lead to something much greater than your average friendship. sehun is certain, as he stands unnoticed beside the shorter man, that he would want this person in his life in one way or another. people would call this straightforward or brash or downright creepy, but to sehun, it's something very much akin to love at first sight.

'hello.'

the stranger almost drops his book as shock runs through his veins at the greeting that seemingly came from nowhere. he gawks at sehun momentarily, and good god, that face can launch a thousand ships, sehun thinks aloud. it catches him off-guard how the shorter man, despite the initial bolt from the blue, smiles bright and welcoming, almost as if he was expecting it. 'hi.'

sehun has initiated conversations before, dubbing himself a proper social butterfly. it is a trait—or a gift, rather—which his friends would and could not deny as sehun floats naturally from a circle to another on many occasions. but today, his confidence seems to gradually dissipate before this person. there were words somewhere, f-ing get ahold of yourself, oh sehun, lost and waiting to be found.

'hello,' the greeting bubbles out of him like a broken record, and the stranger laughs at this, and the sound much like silver bells in sehun's ears. he takes this as his cue to start again, more confidently this time. 'i see you've picked up a murakami.'

'yeah, my roommate won't stop talking about him,' the stranger raises the novel for emphasis, grin still disarmingly in place. 'he seems as good as what others claim him to be.'

sehun is over the moon. haruki murakami happens to one of his favorite authors, and to hear a (lovely) newbie praise someone he looks up to is enough to make him smile like he's won the world right then and there. 'he sure is!'

'would you recommend this to start with?'

'actually,' sehun grabs “norwegian wood” out of the shelf and hands it to the man, eager and excited to share his fanaticism. 'it's much more realistic than what he usually writes. he's quite an eccentric writer, so this was a breath of fresh air. but i would also recommend "a wild sheep chase" or "the wind-up bird chronicle" to have a feel of what he's truly famous for.'

'wow,' the stranger breathes, lips parted in awe. 'you sure do know him well.'

'he's one of my favorites,' sehun responds rather sheepishly, and in the process of looking at anything but the stranger's eyes, sehun's gaze lands on the books clutched against the shorter man's chest. 'say, i've got an idea.'

the stranger raises his eyebrows. 'hmm?'

'let me buy you your first murakami,' sehun says, and the gesture almost takes the stranger aback, smile faltering just for a little bit.

'that's wonderful of you, but—'

'i won't take no for an answer,' sehun insists, head tilted and smile teasingly expectant—his best attempt at flirting, to which the stranger responds with an equally playful smile. 'besides, what better way to express my love for the great haruki murakami than to spread and share his genius?'

the stranger laughs again, eyes crinkled with delight and a little something like flattery and timidity. the pink on his cheeks don't go unnoticed as sehun ushers him to the cashier, the taller of the two discreetly placing the books he'd chosen earlier back to the shelf. sehun speaks more of murakami's other works, and the stranger listens, laughing at appropriate times, encouraging him to move on as they queue behind two other customers. the conversation flows naturally, like sehun is speaking to a long-time friend.

the register beeps to indicate the purchase, and with a grateful bow from the cashier, they take their leave from the bookstore and into the morning sun. 'thank you for the book,' the stranger says, 'i'll read this well.'

sehun takes notice of the light crowning the shorter man in a bright halo, and for a moment, he is short of breath and immobile because he never imagined falling in love and seeing a spectacle right before his very eyes happen on the same day. the feeling is overwhelming, but sehun is high with warmth and happiness that he barely notices the stranger pick up his phone to answer a call and leave with a small wave, a perpetual smile, and sehun's heart along with him.

it is only when sehun comes home empty-handed that he realizes the stranger leaves him with nothing at all—not even a name—but a memory.

—

it takes sehun a week to calm his thoughts of the stranger down, dropping by the bookstore at the same time every day in hopes of meeting him again. the cashier has grown accustomed to his presence while he lingers on the same aisle 'til his schedule permitted him, lower lip gnawed between his teeth and hands shoved deep in his pockets in anticipation. every soft tinkle of the chime by the door causes him to look towards the entrance—

but luck doesn't seem to be on his side.

disappointed and a little heartbroken, sehun immerses himself in schoolwork and more books. school ends in a month's time, and it has been nerve-wrackingly hectic as requirements pile one after the other. but amidst the academic chaos, sehun signs himself up for a part-time job at a nearby café for the holidays.

'it pays for more books,' he tells jongin on his first day on the job, tying the apron excitedly over his crisp white dress shirt and dark skinny jeans. jongin thinks he's insane for opting to work on their supposed time for vacation, you said you'd walk me through assassin's creed, dejectedly thumping the surface of the counter with his fist. 'i can give you an employee's discount?'

'no way,' jongin chuckles humorlessly, but sehun knows he has won. 'you ought to extend your privilege and treat me to a drink of my choice. every day. for a month.'

'it's a deal, then.'

they bump fists like true bros, and mull over their worksheets atop the counter 'til sehun's shift begins in half an hour.

the café is oddly quiet for a weekday, perhaps because most of the customers were students hunched over books and notes as examinations draw near. coffee stains line the tables in neglect, lattés spilling over with every anxious sip.

when the clock strikes one in the afternoon, sehun wills himself to stir away from his calculus notes to mark the start of his shift, but not before promising jongin that the first drink he'd make would be for him and on the house. 'one caramel macchiato coming right up.'

—

there is a familiar tinkle of a chime, soft and somewhat melodious, and sehun braces himself for a new customer just as the crowd thins. students began retreating to their whereabouts an hour ago—jongin almost sleepwalking in tow, their youthful souls eager to put an end their to academic nightmare. sehun becomes just as antsy about high grades as he skims over his notes while he serves none.

tests, he could prepare for, but it comes as an utter surprise when he looks up from his notebook to the awaiting customer to meet those awfully familiar brown eyes. his senses almost completely fails him as they simultaneously exclaim, ‘it's you!’ and burst out laughing in embarrassing noise despite the annoyed glances thrown their way.

'hello, sehun,' the stranger's reads his nameplate, voice soothing and melodious with a hint of childlike playfulness. the warmth in the pit of sehun's stomach rises to his cheeks, to the tips of his ears, and he stands captivated much like the first. he'd never thought his name could sound any lovelier. 'fancy meeting you here.'

gaining a new sense of confidence, sehun leans on his elbows atop the counter, 'til his line of sight equals the shorter man's. 'are you stalking me?' he teases, lips pulled back in smug flirtation. 'because this can't be mere coincidence.'

the stranger laughs, and oh how sehun missed the sound! 'excuse me, but i frequent this café, and it is the first time i've seen you behind the counter!'

'oh, well, it's my first day. lucky you, then.'

'i guess so,' the stranger responds with delight, eyes crinkling from his sun-kissed smile that it takes five heartbeats and a rather appalled, are you buying or not, from behind the stranger for them to realize that they've been staring. they both clear their throats, coughing out suppressed laughter on their fists.

'what'll you be having today?' sehun chews on his lips to keep himself from smiling like a lunatic on the loose. the shorter man hums, surprise me, grin taunting and somewhat mischievous. sehun gladly welcomes the challenge with a confident chuckle. 'can i get a name for the cup, sir?'
 

'baekhyun,' the stranger's smile widens, flashing his teeth much like a pleased child would—it reminds sehun of hot cocoa on winter mornings. 'took you long enough.'

the comment leaves sehun breathless and giddy, almost wobbling through the proper routine of prepping drinks of world-class quality, his superior had bragged, that he almost forgets to put the latter customer's sugar-free preference and that she opts soy over whole milk. nevertheless, the customer leaves with a too-friendly smile and a wink sehun intentionally ignores.

it takes him longer than the intended time to make baekhyun's drink, choosing the cleanest paper cup, the freshest ingredients, putting in extra effort (and perhaps even his heart) to make an impression. sehun wants only the best for baekhyun, so with a triumphant grin, he lightly sprinkles the meticulously put whipped cream and silently prays that it's enough to please.

'that took a while,' baekhyun says as sehun personally delivers his drink with youthful enthusiasm. sehun takes notice of his copy of “norwegian wood”.

sehun simply responds with a playful shrug of his shoulders. 'maybe i wanted to keep you here,' and it earns him a lighthearted chuckle from baekhyun. he gestures towards the drink on the shorter man's hands, i hope you like it, and bows slightly before returning to his post. his smile doesn't go amiss.

the whipped cream is topped with a cursive 'b' in a thin ribbon of chocolate syrup, a modest attempt at uniqueness and flattery that baekhyun is somewhat left speechless with all the attention he is receiving. he takes a sip, bursting into a sunny smile upon finding out his favorite merrily sliding down his throat. he wants to ask how, but there is magic in mystery, in pure coincidence or fate

despite the cold, baekhyun is filled with warmth and delight—it felt like home and something so much more as he sees past sehun’s wink and broad smile. there is fondness in the curves of his lips; life and hope and love bright in his eyes. there is a lingering question of what if at the back of baekhyun’s mind, falling to the tips of his fingertips, to the distance between sehun and him. there is a chance at love, baekhyun wonders out loud while he steps towards that very possibility.

‘hey, sehun,’ baekhyun is shifting from one foot to the other, lower lip bitten red with nervousness across the counter. sehun would never have thought of what an anxious baekhyun looked like, but the image before him makes him want to throw a tantrum over the absolute adorability. ‘what time does your shift end?’

‘hmm,’ sehun wants to scream a victorious, yes! at the very top of his lungs in every corner of the world. ‘why?’

baekhyun quite likes the pink on sehun’s cheeks, yet he hopes his own are shades lighter and unnoticeable. ‘i would love to hear more about murakami from you.’

well, damn. sehun is itching to hop and flail about, but the calmness of the café keeps him quietly in place. ‘my shift ends at 6,' he breathes instead, smile growing wide with every beat of his heart. 'but for you, i'd make an exception.'

the clock reads 4:57 pm, and throws the other barista an i’ll owe you for this one, zitao, and before baekhyun knows it, he is being dragged outside by the hand. a cold gust of wind sends shivers down baekhyun's back, clipped korean voices and laughter sweet to his ears from a distance. there is a soft, pleasing thrum in his chest with every step he takes further away from the café. ‘where are we going?’

there is comfort, joy, and a little something like sublimity in knowing that there is a moment like this as sehun says, ‘anywhere, but here.’

so he just lets sehun take him, wherever it may be, because it was sehun, anyway. but at that precise moment when sehun’s clasp had tightened, his fingers telling him he’d never let go, baekhyun knew, he’d follow him just wherever.

“it's because of you

when i'm in bed in the morning

that i can wind my spring and tell myself

i have to live another good day.”

— haruki murakami, norwegian wood

note: this is for my kyungsoo, DM, who has been nothing but wonderful to me.♡ thank you so much for your kind words, & for inspiring me to write more.