Summary:

Krystal has always been fascinated with Latte arts, and of course, she has a favorite artist.

Pairing(s):

main!JungLi

Genre(s):

fluff, romance

Word count:

729 words

Published on:

October 31^st, 2015

A/N:

Yeah, I know it's been a year. But f(x) is back and nothing literally matters anymore. I'm sorry for being MIA for so long, but I hope you enjoy this, everyone. f(x) saranghae! Once OT5, forever OT5! Once JungLi, forever JungLi!

And no, this isn't a fic that celebrates Halloween. Sadly I'm not into that kind of stuffs.

*Click* *Snap!*

Grinning, a certain auburn-haired girl slid her finger across the screen of her smartphone. She gazed at the picture she had just taken, that of a coffee latte. With a few touches here and there… Touched this icon here… aaand perfect! The coffee latte picture, its surface decorated with what resembled a flower, now became her phone’s wallpaper.

Krystal Jung grinned wider and quickly put her phone on the table. She stared at the coffee again. Oh how it looked so perfect, as she had always expected from her favorite barista in her favorite café who just happened to be Krystal’s absolute favorite latte artist, if that’s even a sorta profession.

Krystal had always liked coffee. Liked, because it wasn’t really love, and coke will always be the number one beverage that she loved. Back in the days, which was at most last month or so, coffee was probably at the middle of her favorite drinks list. But as of recently it had shot up in ranks, eventually reaching second place in her made up list.

But not all sorts of coffee, per se! Her only coffee was latte, only latte. And how! She didn’t even like other forms of coffee. She cringed at how bitter espresso was to her. Imagine her disgusted face at the sight of black coffee!

Rather, her only reason in liking latte was… the art. The so-called ‘latte arts’, as people called it. Krystal was always a bit on the artistic side. She got sentimental just by the sight of a cheap painting, to name a few. Though, ‘latte arts’ weren’t exactly true arts, and she knew that, and she actually had another reason for liking that stuff.

If only it wasn’t that stupid, she thought. But it wasn’t really stupid, just Krystal Jung finding herself more and more fascinated with the one behind her fancier latte. It was a certain barista, a tall girl who looked her age and spent most of her time busying herself behind the bar, brewing coffee for customers and the like.

Krystal knew her name. It was ‘Sulli Choi’ or something like that. But that was all that she knew, really, except maybe that this Sulli was good at making latte arts. So goddamn good.

Sometimes, Krystal wondered if Sulli was gay, or single, or better yet, if she was gay and single. The chances were rather slim, but she could still hope, could she not?

She suddenly felt a tug on the hem of her shirt. Turning her head around, she was met with a rather timid waitress who looked like she could burst down crying anytime soon. Now Krystal was never good with strangers and might look like a bully, but she was kind enough to shot the frightened girl a smile, urging her to man up (or was it girl up?) and told her what the problem was already. She just wanted to return to staring at the barista!

With shaky voice, the waitress said that for her frequent visit to their café, the barista—the usual barista which meant Sulli—was going to treat her for one more cup of coffee, latte to be precise, to thank her for her kind patronage. Surprised and flustered, Krystal could only nodded dumbly as the waitress excused herself to get the extra bonus Krystal was going to be rewarded with.

Okay, that was unexpected. Krystal definitely didn’t know her frequent visit could land her this kind of a thing! She tried to calm her pounding heart down, because hell yeah Sulli Choi is sorta treating her to an extra piece of latte art! And who was she to refuse a free drink from someone she had taken a liking to, even when they never talked? She was grinning again, laced with anticipation and wholesome happiness.

And it just got better for the auburn-haired girl as the art she saw was unlike any that she had seen so far.

The cup was covered in a tissue, which had a series of numbers on it. As she removed it, a white heart was greeting her with a pair of eyes and a lopsided smile, somewhat appearing like something out of a cartoon.

As she inspected the tissue with a big smile, it just got bigger when she read the text that accompanied it,

‘Call me later, gorgeous.’