Joohyun knows he was in trouble from the way Yoojin took a breath, like she was gearing up for some grand reveal.

“,” he said aloud even before she had reached for the letters. “You’re gonna win.”

The young architect pauses, fingers still hovered over her tiles, and looked up so the light reflects off her glasses and obscured her eyes. “You haven’t seen my word yet, you can’t possibly know that.”

“I can see you, Stiff,” Joohyun fired back. “You’ve got that look.”

“What on earth do you mean, Tall?”

“The look where your face goes perfectly calm cause you’re trying real hard not to gloat.” Joohyun kicked his legs out sideways so he can sprawled across the floor; Yoojin’s got hers folded under her, like she had since they started this most recent round. Her legs had got to be asleep but she looked utterly calm and composed.

“I don’t gloat,” Yoojin said, but she was starting to lay her tiles out and Joohyun was half-distracted by watching the word she was putting into place on the board.

“You do too,” he said absently. “You’d be a hell of a lot less fun if you...oh for ’s sake that is not a ing word.”

Thin eyebrows raised behind shining glass. “I think you’ll find that ‘calcitrant’ is indeed a word, if perhaps not one in your vocabulary.”

“See,” Joohyun groaned. “You do gloat. Though right now that isn’t much comfort.” It made it worse that he gave her ‘ant’ to work from. She wouldn’t have had enough damn letters otherwise. “My vocabulary isn’t that bad, anyway. I beat you at this sometimes.”

“Rarely,” Yoonji offered calmly.

Joohyun glared at her rather than admitted that her description was far more accurate than his own. “Sheesus. I should never have agreed to play Scrabble with you. At least I kick your in poker.”

“Why did you agree?” Yoojin asked, fishing another hand of tiles out of the bag near her hand.

“You know,” Joohyun growled. “I’m not sure right now.” He pulled two tiles off his own tray and reached out over the board. “Though I think it might be coming back to me.” He placed the R and the E just in front of Yoojin’s last play and looked up in time to see the architect’s eyebrows folded down in irritation over her eyes. The shine was gone off her lenses now.

“Ah, yeah, there is it,” he purred, rolling back away from the board. “That’s why I agreed. It’s ing satisfying to beat you at your own game.”

“ you,” Yoojin said, carefully enunciating the word so it sounded as precise as her speech usually did instead of dripping with the visceral satisfaction it picked up in Joohyun’s mouth. The barista grated a laugh and rolled over onto his back properly, shutting his eyes to bask in a moment of victory.

Yoojin took a breath, and there was the click of tiles touching down on the board. “Of course, we seem to have different definitions of beating.”

Joohyun’s eyes snapped open. . That was her gloating tone again. “What.” He pushed himself up just as Yoojin was leaning back from the LY she’s added to the end of the word. “Oh you ing . I thought you didn’t play with ‘cheap tricks’?”

Yoojin shrugged one shoulder under a perfectly crisp shirt. “I do prefer to win without them, certainly. But I really prefer to win.”

Joohyun narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought architects were supposed to have morals.”

Yoojin stared at him for a moment. There was a pull of a smile at the corner of and Joohyun got the distinct impression she was fighting back a laugh. “How many architects have you met, exactly?” She leaned back, unfolded her legs. At least she flinched as she straightened her knees. “If you wanted morals you should have played with Moon. Or Enik, maybe.”

“Eh.” Joohyun dropped back to the floor, sighs. “You’re more fun to play against than they are.”

“You’re taking this well,” Yoojin observed from the other side of the table. “Usually you throw a fit when you lose.”

Joohyun lifted one hand, caught the edge of the Scrabble board, and tipped it up so all the tiles slide off to scatter over her lap. “There. Happy?”

There was a brief pause. When Yoojin spoke, Joohyun could hear the laugh under her voice. “Yes, thank you.”

He grinned without opening his eyes. “Welcome.”

“My cup is empty,” Yoojin turned her mug upside down, lapping the last few drop of her favorite, which was Joohyun’s signature drip coffee.

“Lemme getcha ’nother refill,” Joohyun stood up, straightened his legs and stretched them for a while. He snatched her mug and leisurely strode to her kitchen like it was his own.

Yoojin stayed wordless while watching him producing two servings of coffee in almost no time and her thought instantly flew down memory lane.

Their history of friendship went back to one fine afternoon ten years ago, the first time she met him. She was a sophomore and it was her first day as a part-timer in a small coffee shop  near campus.

Yoojin double checked the emblem above the door of the coffee shop— RP, printed in delicate and curling font—before pulling the door open and stepping inside.

Immediately, her senses were assaulted with the smell of brewing coffee wafting in the air, the sounds of espresso machines steaming milk, the quiet din of patrons as they spread about the tables. Her eyes darted from one corner of the coffee shop to another—by no means large but not tiny either—flicking over the brass and gold light fixtures dropping from high ceilings, the exposed brick walls and granite countertops, the dark stain of the counters and