Tilting her head as she remained perched on the couch, Hyejung eyed me curiously while I packed my bag. “Where are you going?”

“Out for an early lunch.” I glanced at the clock. It was a little past eleven. Choosing to cut off the conversation there, I gave her a little smile and turned to leave the door. “See you!”

Closing the door, I wondered where I had suddenly gathered all the courage to make my feet move towards the café. Not just any café though—Coffee Republic. Of course, I was on my own little quest to see Luhan again to get a jumpstart on the bet.

If anything, I didn’t have the upper hand. Hyejung had known him longer—since high school to be exact. And we have literally met a few days ago. All I knew about him now was his name and the places he worked. I almost sounded like the stalker he was accusing me of being. Maybe, just maybe, I could put effort into at least asking him to hang out and perhaps grab a meal together soon.

Reaching the place and grabbing on to the door handle, I breathed in before letting myself in. The place was rowdier than the last time I had been there thanks to the effect of the city finally coming in search of lunch. There were maybe a whole three tables that were still free despite only having a few occupied that morning when I had been there.

My eyes automatically scanned the place for Luhan, and a grin broke the seam of my lips when I did spot him. He was removing his apron as I approached, appearing to be telling his co-worker a goodbye.

Oh no, oh no.

Luhan couldn’t leave now. Not when I actually willed myself to show up. As Luhan moved to leave the door, he found himself face-to-face with me. He acknowledged me with a point.

“Hey, it’s you! Are you sure you aren’t stalking me? Because I’m on lunch break and you’re kinda too late to work-criticize me.” Luhan maneuvered around me quickly, almost too fast for me to even comprehend his words.

I whirled around before his retrieving back could disappear through the door. “Wait!”

Despite the noise, he had heard and looked behind his shoulder to me expectantly. “Hm?”

“I was wondering if I could ask...” I averted my gaze away from his eyes, feeling the nervousness suddenly heat my face. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t ask him so directly. “...could ask what was good here. Because you work here so I figured you would know,” I finished lamely. I would have kicked myself.

A part of my mind said that he was going to leave and tell me to order the same thing that I had this morning, though Luhan spun at his heels to my rescue. “Well, let’s look at the menu.” Standing beside me, he faced the chalkboard menu behind the front counter on the wall with a hand on his chin.

As he silently pondered, I couldn’t help but peek a side-glance at him to see Luhan scrunching his face as he thought.

He pointed. “The coffee cake is pretty good.”

“Do they pour coffee over the cake to make that?” Crap. Brain-to-mouth filter was not functioning again. Stupid, stupid...

Luhan grinned, humming a chuckle. “If you want it made like that, you could make a request.”

“I don’t know.” I had my sight on the different types of lemonade.

“It’s delicious though! C’mon, try it.” Without leaving me time to respond, Luhan confronted the front counter. I silently followed behind him while his co-worker took time off from brewing coffee to listen to Luhan. “Could I get two slices of the coffee cake?”

The other man laid down his equipment. “I thought you were going across the street for your lunch break?”

“No she...” Luhan gestured behind himself at me, though stopped mid-sentence at realizing he didn’t know my name.

“Jinah,” I added for him.

“Jinah needs to know how good the coffee cake is.” After mentioning to put the price on his tab, Luhan retrieved two plated slices of coffee cake that was personally hand-delivered to him.

We were sitting across from each other at a table in no time, fork at my hand and the cake in front of me. Luhan dug in first and pierced the cake to tear and eat at it. I scrutinized him as he chewed and didn’t seem to be too appalled at what he was consuming.

“Well, try it.” Luhan pointed to my plate with his fork.

I was never a picky eater, though really only hesitated then because—I don’t recall how it happened—but I somehow snagged a chance to eat with Luhan. Using my fork and putting a chunk of it into my mouth, I let out a sound of approval as I let the flavors escape.

“See? I have good taste buds,” he said, a little smug and taking another piece.

“Or rather we have the same taste buds,” I corrected. “Do you like mustard?”

Luhan shook his head. “It’s not my favorite.”

“Then nevermind. We don’t have the same taste buds.”

He laughed again at my comment. I was satisfied with myself despite knowing that I wasn’t trying to be funny because apparently my thoughtless outbursts amused him. “I’m Luhan, by the way.”

Already knew that.

I nodded slowly. “Nice to finally know your name.” Though I have heard about him longer than he could know. Hell, I even knew his shoe size thanks to Hyejung.

“So Jinah,” Luhan squished a few crumbs on his plate with the back of his fork, “what kind of chemistry-related job are you aspiring for?”

He remembered that? I was unnecessarily flattered. “Chemical Technologist.”

“Fancy. They offer that course at my university,” he said. The back of my mind was saying: I know our school does. “I’m taking New Media Production.”

“I’m taking classes at Yonsei.” I watched in amusement as the look of surprise dawned on his expression.

“Wait, I go at Yonsei!” Luhan sat straighter on his seat. “Why haven’t I seen you?”

I shrugged, picking at my cake. “I go there sometimes.”

“You know, skipping school doesn’t actually help.” This time he sounded like a concerned-parent advertisement.

How many times did I have to explain this fact to everybody? “Don’t worry, I show up for exams and stuff. I’m on an independent program.”

“People actually signed up for that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Luhan smiled at my dry humor again. “Are you Junmyeon’s girlfriend then?”

I had to double-take and ask again just in case I heard that wrong. “What?”

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