The barista was pretty…in that small, wide eyed, innocent Asian way. You avoided looking at her and instead focused heavily on the big, dark green menu board, most of which you couldn’t read. It didn’t help that the text was all in some kind of handwriting font, further proving that you really weren’t that great at hangeul and only serving to cause your mood to slide further down.

You were so nervous that you had fumbled every word out of your mouth so far, and now the cute and happy barista chatting away with your date made you even more embarrassed. You couldn’t hold that kind of conversation with him - easy and free.

Your date.

If three weeks ago, someone would have told you that you would be asked on a date by Eunhyuk of Super Junior, you would have laughed and asked if they’d been reading too many of those scenario fanfictions.

But there he was, standing half a foot taller than you, in all his blond god glory. He finished talking to the barista and turned to you with a wide, gummy smile. Your heart skipped and your stomach erupted into butterflies.

“Do you know what you want?” he asked, his speech slightly slowed from the way he had talked to the barista, who was now eyeing you venomously behind his back. That’s swell, you thought to yourself. Pretty girls in every country have the same attitude.

You flushed and nodded, looking at the few items listed in English on the board and quickly trying to pick the one that sounded the least strange. You found it and placed your order with the barista who typed it in, looking rather displeased.

Eunhyuk placed his order and thanked the barista with a bow. You followed suit, although you were tempted to skip the bow and claim cultural ignorance if it came back to bite you. Eunhyuk found a table and sat across from you, still smiling.

You shifted in your seat when you sat down and twisted your hands nervously in your lap under the table while he cast a wary look around the small cafe he had asked you to. When he finished his inspection, he turned back to you.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped in your seat and focused your attention back on the gorgeous man in front of you. You smile was slightly strained but you smiled anyway and nodded.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

If Eunhyuk read something behind your face, he didn’t have time to ask you about it because the barista had brought your drinks. Yours was in a small, crisp white mug that was round and all the edges were soft. It was an adorable cup. The froth of the coffee inside had been poured so that the top looked like a pale five petaled flower in a sea of deep black.

You couldn’t help but coo over the cute coffee once it was placed in front of you. You didn’t notice Eunhyuk smile as you excitedly pulled out your camera to snap a photo of the coffee. The barista disappeared and you tucked your camera back in your bag, before taking a tentative sip of the coffee.

It was surprisingly good. It tasted like honey and cinnamon. It fizzed gently across your tongue - not scalding hot, but a pleasant warm that travelled down your throat and spread across your chest and into your stomach.

“Delicious!” you said brightly once you had set the cup back down. Eunhyuk was sipping his coffee slowly, watching you with bright eyes. You turned your cup on the table nervously. He set his own, much taller mug down and folded his hands.

“Something’s wrong and you’re not telling me,” he said quietly. You froze. He could tell? You continued to turn your cup nervously and avoid his gaze. Your wandering eyes landed on the barista who was watching you from the side and whispering with her other, still very pretty friend.

You turned back to him and sighed. “Hyukjae….” you mumbled, afraid of revealing the meaning behind your gloom. He didn’t give up easily, however, and he looked at you from under the fringe of blond bangs and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“You can tell me,” he said gently, reaching over and taking your hand.

Your heart stopped for a moment, and you were frozen in place for several long seconds. You finally regained your derailed train of thought and blinked. Casting one final glance at the pretty girls behind the counter, you sighed.

“…I’m…upset that Korean…is still very…difficult,” you muttered, piecing the sentence together carefully. “You can talk with other people so easy…but…I feel…like it’s really hard…to talk to me.”

Eunhyuk cast his glance in the direction you were looking and suddenly laughed. He leaned closer to you over the table and grinned, jerking his head in the direction of the barista who had taken your order.

“Is it because you think she’s pretty?”

“Wh-what?!” you yelped, leaping backwards in your chair. Eunhyuk laughed again and leaned back from the table, his hand still firmly wrapped around your own. Your heart hammered a dance beat in your rib cage. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought it was dancing a samba.

Eunhyuk shook his head. “Ah, you cute baboya…” He drank more of his coffee before continuing. “I asked you out because I like you. You’re funny and smart and pretty.” He smirked to himself. “And your baby Korean is adorable.”

“B-baby?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows. “You think I talk…like a baby?”

“No, I just meant your beginning Korean. It’s cute.”

“Yah! Why do you keep calling me cute?” You protested, secretly enjoying the reactions from Eunhyuk as you spoke in imperfect Korean. He laughed and it was as if all the pent up frustration inside your stomach melted away as you sipped the coffee.

The conversation kicked up pace and without even realizing it, you were keeping up and enjoying ever single second (while the barista watched on, green eyed with jealousy).

When Eunhyuk finally dropped you off outside the door of your small officetel, you smiled shyly and thanked him again for the coffee and the good time. He smiled widely and shrugged like he was embarrassed.

Before he turned to leave he caught your hand one last time and brought it to his lips, brushing your bare knuckles gently.

“I’ll see you later,” he said with a smirk practiced from multiple music videos and countless photo shoots before he waltzed off, leaving you literally breathless, leaning against your door, face warm and flushed.

The butterflies in your stomach acted up again and you felt a tingle in your toes. As you unlocked the door and pushed your way inside, you couldn’t help but let a smile creep your way onto your face knowing that it wasn’t from the coffee.