A/N: Inspiration: http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/143043343091/imagine-person-a-the-shysweet-one-is-being. Requested by _meraki (I’m sorry it took so long huhu.)

It was a modest bookshop located in the corner of a quiet street, tucked in between a family-run laundromat and an old-fashioned novelty store. And though his eyes slid over it when he first walked past, now he could list down all its charms easily, from its false brick facade to its slightly rusted brass fixtures, as well as the artfully stacked, hardbound books on display.

(He remembered how the other boy’s brow furrowed in absolute concentration, how his lips pursed critically as low sounds of disagreement vibrated from his throat each time he didn’t place the book in exactly the right spot.

For someone seemingly carefree, you’re a stickler for the strangest things. His fingers could already dance then, almost without any thought to it. 

He barely hid his smile when that statement elicited a pout from the younger boy. And though he continued to offer his complaints, he secretly wished the task took them longer than that one autumn afternoon.)  

He pushed open the doorway, the rough wood grain familiar beneath his palm. And just as he’d grown to expect it, the scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted him, and from smell alone he could already imagine the taste of it - generously laced with chocolate, piping hot against his tongue, with tendrils of steam wafting from its surface and across his face. 

(He found he had a tendency of watching the younger boy’s hands in fascination. Even if he was just doing the most mundane of things, in fact. He noted the way his wrist bent gracefully to stir the drink, once, twice, three times round, and how his palms cradled the mug as he lifted it carefully to his lips.

Then his gaze found something else to settle on - parted, of a rosy hue and incredibly, incredibly soft - only adding to the blissful expression reflected on the brunette’s face.

I see you like coffee that much. His movements were still stilted back then, as he needed to consider each word, but he supposed the warmth in his expression made up for any gap in communication…

…As evidenced by the tell-tale blush that warmed the other boy’s cheeks.)

He slowly rounded the next corner, taking his time walking through the store, his fingers lightly trailing across colourful book spines. Oh, how familiar it had all grown to him over time. 

Then, as he neared the counter at the back, he finally caught a glimpse of the boy that occupied the forefront of his thoughts (for now, for always) - his head bent low over a stack of papers, fingers fluttering over the pages, tracing the text as he read. 

And in that moment where he still went unnoticed among the shelves, he couldn’t help but admire the rich sheen of the other’s sable hair, his bare nape terribly visible and elegantly vulnerable as he leaned forward to write something down. He knew, even without looking, how neat the other boy’s hand-writting was, down to the smallest flick of his favorite blue pen. 

(He developed a habit of carrying a small notebook around with him for the first few weeks, scribbling furiously on its pages whenever the brunette would blink owlishly at him, confusion clear in his bright-eyed gaze. 

You know, everyone has said my penmanship improved ever since I met you. He’d written once, catching the growing twinkle in the other boy’s eyes even as he turned away his face bashfully. 

In fact, my professors send their regards, as you’ve saved them from a slew of potential headaches whenever they attempt to read my so-called chicken scrawl. He prided himself on the fact he was able to maintain the light atmosphere, even as his chest grew tight watching the brunette’s myriad of expressions with aching, growing fondness.) 

And though he was still somewhat lost in his recollections, he already began walking forward, his footfalls soft but sure. Used to the song and dance they’ve done so many times before, he instinctively reached out with one knuckle to knock against the counter gently, to gain the other boy’s attention.  

Then the warmest pair of eyes glanced up, the other boy’s body attuned to the slightest vibration. And though he guarded his heart well against it, the smile the brunette sent his way reminded him of moments curled up in a soft, well-loved armchair, with his favorite book on his lap and a mug of coffee warm between his hands.

In fact, the exact mug of his imaginings was the one that was pushed towards him from across the counter - the corner of it chipped, the cheerful yellow decal (an anime character, of all things) faded around the edges, and it’s handle broken off by some other clumsy customer. The selfsame mug the other boy had further ruined with a neatly written, permanently-inked ‘Seungcheol’ at the rim - just for his exclusive use, the brunette had explained shyly. 

How Seungcheol loved that damn cup.

Ah blessed coffee. The only reason I come to visit. Seungcheol’s lips moved along with his hands though they already didn’t need to, and he made a show of leaning forward and sniffing the mug’s contents with a contented sigh, feeling supremely gratified when the other boy bit his lip to hold back a smile. 

Sure it is. Sometimes, Seungcheol still marveled at the fact that the brunette could convey sarcasm as easily with just movements as others could do it with words. And good morning to you as well, Seungcheol. At that point, the younger boy had already conceded the battle with his growing amusement, allowing a small grin to grace his lips.

And instead of replying with sign (as he had practiced for months on end since that first fated afternoon), Seungcheol gave into impulse and leaned across the counter, purposely brushing his lips lightly across the brunette’s cheek - a murmured “good morning” ghosting against the other boy’s skin. 

And though he could not hear him speak, the pink that painted Jisoo’s cheeks as Seungcheol withdrew told him that he understood all the same.  

A/N: In case anyone got confused, Jisoo is actually deaf in the story. I didn't want to explicitly say it, but hopefully it somehow got across. Hehe.