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Jeonghan knew what he wanted. He wanted to finish school and pursue in a literature major at his dream college, knowing that absolutely nothing would stand in the way of his life plan. He's written all his life. Ever since his grade school teacher told him to write stories, Jeonghan was set. The words he wrote weren't just everyday words that were tossed around. Each letter, word, sentence had a meaning and that's what Jeonghan loved about writing. It's the only thing he's ever loved. But things have changed. Changed in a way he never thought could happen.

Jeonghan's gay. He didn't think it would be that much of a big deal or that it would become a major crisis to his perfect life plan. In highschool, he thought of it as a 'phase' until he realized he couldn't hide his reddened cheeks in the locker room showers forever. He sought the Internet for help since the subject was something personal to him, and decided to just deal with it. He let his feelings fly high for all the jocks and good looking teachers at his school, even into college. Throughout his four years, he never experienced real love or relationships. He never wanted to, anyways. But by the end of his college journey, Jeonghan never knew one look was all it could take to make his heart stop in an instant.

The library. Jeonghans absolute favorite spot to write. The atmosphere of the room was perfect for brainstorming new ideas and plots for a story. All he did was observe his surroundings then stuff his nose in a journal or plug into his laptop and he was off. He wrote short stories, about 10 to 12 a day. Many of them masterpieces or others, trash. Each one was always different with unique titles. The Tales of the Lost Bookmark. Empty Shelves with Crowded Pages. Tea and Novels: The Perfect Combo.

Today was like any other day. Labeling the date at the top of his journal, Jeonghan sipped his tea before setting it down and getting to work: observation. He noticed the usual things: the librarian leisurely flipping through a textbook, a study group whispering softly to one another, many empty aisles with book carts overflowing with books. It was all the same to him, until his eyes swept down the fiction aisle. They landed on a boy, leaning against the shelves, head buried in a thick novel. Jeonghan squinted, the title reading Percy Jackson. He lifted his eyes, scanning the boy. He was somewhat tall, ashy brown hair with a long torso and skinny legs. They were crossed, one over the other, as his weight fell onto the wooden structure next to him. Jeonghan saw many other books beside his feet, stacked in a column. He thought about his empty journal in hand when the boy turned the page, his hand lowering the book. Jeonghan caught sight of his face, high nose with round spectacles resting on its bridge. His eyes were round and sloped a little downwards, like a camel. His brown hair fell to his eyes, brows hidden under his mane. Jeonghan marveled at the boy and began scribbling little details into his journal.

His eyes switched from the boy to the pages, back and forth until his neck ached. After getting all the small details, he began with the background. Tall shelves, quiet air, rustic smell, dim lights. He thought about a title as he finished up his writing, but his mind went blank. He tapped his pencil lightly against his temple, sighing under his breath. Picking up his cold tea, Jeonghan grimaced as the liquid went down his throat. He heard a bag zipper open and looked up, the boy quietly packing up his books. Jeonghan set down his cup as the boy stuffed the last of the books into his bulging backpack. He pushed his glasses up onto his nose before standing up straight. Jeonghan was staring intently at the boy until he realized, he was staring right back at him. Jeonghan froze. The boys eyes twinkled, despite the terrible lighting. His soft fringe fell into his eyes, a hand coming up to sweep them away, never losing eye contact. Jeonghan knew his heart was inside him but somehow it wasn't working. The boys stare was breathtaking, soft yet piercing into his soul, all the life out of him. Jeonghan felt his lips part in awe as the the boys lips tugged upwards, a small smile forming on his lips. Jeonghan couldn't breathe, his lungs suddenly collapsing inside him. All he could do was look back at the boy, his whole body paralyzed. Then suddenly, his eyes were gone, back facing Jeonghan as he headed towards the front doors, never looking back.

Jeonghan sat stunned in his seat before scrambling to get to his journal. His breath heaved heavily in his chest, as if he just ran a few miles. Hand slightly shaking, Jeonghan titled the page as he tried to regain control over his body. His arms and legs felt numb as he tossed his journal onto the small table beside him. He didn't know what overcame him after seeing such beauty, didn't think it was capable of a human to stun another human like that. Jeonghan leaned over, resting his face in his hands. As he returned to his normal breathing rate, he glanced over at his open journal, his messy scribbles barely making out the title: One Look.

 • • • 

That night, Jeonghan laid in his cold bed, insomnia taking over his mind. When his eyes closed, those twinkling eyes replaced his sight. Everywhere he looked or thought, the image of the boy would pop up, lean figure with soft looking hair. He would think of his smile too, feeling his cheeks heat up. Jeonghan felt a small smile crawl onto his lips as he fell into sleep, dreaming about the mysterious boy with twinkly eyes.

He would wake to the sound of his alarm, cold. He shivered as he felt for his phone and turned off its ringer. Sprawled on his bed, Jeonghan listened to the sound of his own breathing, it's rhythmic pattern making him doze off once more. He abruptly sat up, regretting his decision as blood rushed to his head, making the world spin around him. He eventually got up and made his way to the bathroom through the dark, the bright lights above his sink radiating some heat to his body.

After a quick shower, Jeonghan bundled up with layers of clothing. It was nearing Christmas time and that meant cold and windy weather. Grabbing his keys, wallet, and phone, Jeonghan flew out the door of his one roomed apartment, to the garages where his car was parked. It was a short drive to his university and it was still early so Jeonghan decided to head to the small coffee shop in the outlet across from his school.

He was shivering as soon as he got out of his car but once inside the shop, Jeonghan’s body was blasted with warm air. He quickly ordered a small green tea latte and took a seat in a corner booth where the warm air radiated most. Jeonghan breathed in heavily, loving the aura of the small coffee place. He took out his journal, which was always with him, and penciled down the date. He started to jot down all of his senses that were awakened in the small shop, only looking up to say thank you to the waitress for delivering his hot tea. Sipping his drink, Jeonghan described the colors of the room and little booth he was in, pointing out the small details of the cracks on the walls or the dust piles lining the seats. Every now and then the door to the cafe would open, a cold breeze finding it's way into the hot room. The door bell would jingle, Jeonghan only glancing up slightly at every customer. He took note of all the different aged people walking in: early 20’s, nearing 50’s, mothers with small kids or college students. He worked his way down the page, emptying his cup as he went.

His tea finished, Jeonghan checked his phone. 7:34 am it read. He cleaned his area up, stashing away his journal and walking towards the door to leave for his 8 am class. Jeonghan pulled his large jacket tightly around him before pushing open the door. He felt a gust of cold wind hit him, his body stiffening under his layers of clothing. His hair flew around his head, him silently thanking himself that he’d cut it just last week. As he took a step into the cold morning, someone helped hold the door open for him. Looking up, Jeonghan felt his mouth fall open slightly. Twinkly eyes were staring back at him, ashy brown hair disheveled from the fierce winds. The tall boy from the library that wasn’t very tall after all, stood in front of Jeonghan. He felt his feet solidify in place, his hand just about frozen from being exposed to the cold air but all Jeonghan felt was those twinkly eyes on him, warming up his cheeks. Blinking once, the boy stepped back, gesturing Jeonghan out the door with the same small smile he gave him in the library. His movements were like water, slow and graceful, almost angelic. And then, the voice of God spoke to Jeonghan.

“After you.”

Jeonghan felt his entire face, neck, and ears turn red. His voice matched his face so well. Soft and delicate, as if the boy was afraid to frighten Jeonghan. Feeling himself come back to his senses, Jeonghan stepped out into the cold, his eyes diverting to the black marshmallow jacket the boy had on. Jeonghan didn’t know whether to thank the boy or if his voice was even going to work if he spoke, so he gave the boy a small nod before swiftly making his way to his car across the parking lot. There he felt at a safe distance to finally breath, not realizing he was holding his breath the whole time. Looking back into the large windows of the shop, Jeonghan saw the black marshmallow jacket making his way to a corner booth, taking a seat right where Jeonghan was a few minutes ago.

• • •

Jeonghan couldn’t concentrate. He sat in his absolute favorite class: English Literature. The teacher was droning on about Hamlet, his favorite play but all he could do was watch his fingers shake as they held up a pencil. All he could think of was that boy. He desperately needed to write about him, to put all of his feelings and emotions into paper to keep forever. Luckily, the teacher called for a writing break and Jeonghan scrambled to get his journal out. He drew a horizontal line across the page, underneath his coffee shop description. He scribbled down all of the boys features: his messy hair, light eyes, carved cheekbones, bronzed skin and the absence of his golden rimmed glasses. Jeonghan closed his eyes, the picture of him painted into his thoughts. He would never forget his perfect face but he still wrote down each detail to make sure he wouldn’t forget. The wrinkles on the outside of his eyes when he smiled slightly; the way his top lip almost disappeared when he smiled; the small indents on his cheeks; the slight rose color filling his cheeks from the cold wind; the way his hair would turn a lighter gray brown shade under the bright sun’s rays. Jeonghan felt himself exhale quietly, his insides finally settling down from his morning rush. He opened his eyes, his body and mind at peace.

This is why I love writing he thought. It left him at peace inside and the bliss exploded in his mind. The teacher recollected the class and Jeonghan joined in with the discussion about Shakespeare's purpose of writing. He spoke out intently about his thoughts on the poet, other classmates joining as well. This is why I love writing was all that ran through Jeonghan’s mind. It never left, even as he made his way to the library for break.

It was a routine. Jeonghan would walk into the library, the librarian would nod a hello to him and he would return it with a smile. He used to linger around the shelves, pretending to look for a book but now, his feet would lead him to the same spot he always stays to write: two green cushioned chairs with a small coffee table placed between them behind all of the tall shelves. It had a light dangling above the table, so dimly lit it was almost dark. The windows were no help either but Jeonghan prefered it that way; the darkness stimulated his thoughts and he could also sleep peacefully back there. It reminded him of the same rundown library he used to go to when he was a kid. It was dusty and dark but somewhat inviting for a curious kid like Jeonghan. It was a place where as a kid, Jeonghan discovered himself. He found his voice among the shelves of novels upon novels; his writing ability in the millions of pages he went through in a week; his interest in sitting on a small stool, reading from dawn til dusk. His parents never really minded him staying at the shop overnight, they knew the owner well. She was a nice old lady who would always show Jeonghan the new arrivals and let him take first pick from the boxes.

As he sat, Jeonghan slumped against the worn down cushion, it's green color fading away. He felt sleep crawl over his body but fought the urge and sat up abruptly. The library was quiet today, many people out with friends for their breaks between classes. Jeonghan, this being his last year in college, had only one class today. He could go home and sleep for all he wanted but there was a feeling inside him telling him to stay at the library. He got up and wandered over to the fiction aisle where he saw the boy stand the day before. Running his fingers along the rows of books, their spines old and worn out. Jeonghan stopped when his finger reached an author's name that read Riordan. He plucked out the thick novel, turning it over. The words Percy Jackson spelled across the front, with an image of a boy standing on a head of a titan looking creature. Jeonghan grimaced at the tackiness of the fonts and the overall cover of the book. Fiction wasn’t his favorite type of books to read; he prefered novels with thought and realistic plots with tragic endings. Sighing with slight disappointment, Jeonghan slipped the book back into it's place, moving further down the row of books, hoping for a better one to catch his eye. He searched, eyes grazing over different color titles with various fonts, his eyes landing on a book a few shelves up. Extending his left hand towards it, Jeonghan reaches for the white book but before he knew it, someone else’s hand was already on it. His eyes traveled down the long arm that the hand was connected to and stood frozen with his arm still in mid air as his eyes met a pair of twinkly ones. The boy. He was back and this time was close to Jeonghan, so close he didn’t dare breathe. He felt the same shift fall over him: his limbs go numb, mind go blank, lips parting slightly in awe of the marvel before his eyes. The boy took down the book Jeonghan reached for and flipped open it's cover. The sound of the pages in his hands were so loud in Jeonghans ears, next to the pounding sound of his heart beat growing faster within himself. Jeonghan slowly lowered his arm, gulping as he watched him turn the book over in his hands then, surprisingly, hand it over to him.

“It’s a good read.”

Jeonghan’s eyes jolted up to where that beautiful voice escaped a pair of lips. The boy was smiling again and Jeonghan felt his insides twist into a tight knot as he took the book from his hands. He shifted his gaze to the white book in his hands, sight slightly blurry. Gray letters spelt the three words Look for Me. Opening the front cover, Jeonghan felt the boys gaze on him, his face heating up in embarrassment. He skimmed over the inside cover which had the book’s summary in tiny gray print.

“It’s about a boy. He lives an interesting life.”

Jeonghan looks back up at the boy, watching him casually lean against the shelves. There’s still a small smile plastered on his face and Jeonghan begins to think that he could stare at him all day. There’s this glow to him, his whole existence radiates this aura of warmth and happiness. Jeonghan thinks it’s maybe because he’s all about great skin care or maybe because Jeonghan has fallen hard for a boy he doesn’t even know the name of...

“He’s a mystery...but it ends well.”

Jeonghan snaps out of his deep thoughts, blinking up at the boy before looking back down at the book in his hands. His fingers, wrapped tightly around the spine of the book, are pale from squeezing so hard. He tries to breath normally but fails as he loosens his grip. He feels sweat under his arms in the inside of his sweater and all of a sudden he’s feeling very hot. He hears the boy move around in front of him, seeing him turn towards the bookshelf, eyes searching for something else. His fingers delicately graze over the spines of the books, eyes following his fingers path, stopping at a black book and plucking it out. He brings it down, flipping open it's cover, smoothing down the front pages with his right hand. Jeonghan stares at his fingers, so nimble and skinny, he’s afraid they would break if he touched them. He closes the black book, handing it over to Jeonghan.

“Sequel.”

Jeonghan stared at the two books in his hand. The black one had white letters spelling it's title: Found You. He flips through the second book, the cool air hitting his fingers. He still feels heat on his face and neck and awkwardly rubs under his hair with his left hand. Jeonghan looks up at the boy and with all his might, he pushes his voice to finally come to life.

“Uh...thanks. For these.”

Jeonghan mentally punches himself in the stomach. His voice didn’t sound like his and he tried to hide his embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile. The boy didn’t seem to notice the crisis Jeonghan was currently fighting inside and smiled before picking up his black backpack and swinging it over his left shoulder.

“Yea, no problem. Uh, see ya around...?”

Jeonghan watched as the boy took a few steps back, hope hanging from his lips as he spoke those last words. His eyebrows were raised as he smirked back at him. Jeonghans face felt extremely hot as his eyes widened in surprise. He fought the urge to smile but his cheeks failed him, diverting his eyes to the floor in front of him as his face broke out in a shy smile. Looking back up, the boy backed away, his face full of satisfaction. He saluted Jeonghan with two fingers before turning around and walking away. Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile as he watched the boy exit out of the two front doors before sighing out in relief, his heart beating fast in his chest. See me around huh… Jeonghan wondered what he meant as he made his way to over to the green cushioned chairs.

Sitting down, Jeonghan began to pack up his things. He took out his library card and phone to check the time: 10:46 am it read. He pocketed his phone and zipped up his backpack. He shuffled the two large novels in his hands before stacking them together and standing up to check them out. As he stood, Jeonghan noticed a small piece of paper fall out of the inside cover from one of the books. He watched it flutter to the floor before bending down to pick it up. Standing up, he examined the ripped piece of paper, noticing small words scribbled in pen on one side. Jeonghan gulped as a realization hit him. He would never forget the time when the mysterious boy that he’d fallen for wrote a small message for him and stuck it into a series of books he loved, words that started it all: Coffee tomorrow? Oh, and the name’s Joshua.

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