005

Seong Somin

We'd been texting non-stop from then. I mean, we had so much to talk about. His team's Grammy, my new found success. The photoshoot was released to the press, snow fell, the ice melted from the rooftops, and the cherry blossoms painted the sidewalks pink before we mustered up the courage to meet face to face. But I don't think a day passed without waking up to a good morning text or closing my eyes smiling at the sound of his voice.

He chose a coffee shop quite close to my house and the moment I arrived and noted he wasn't in the room yet, I ordered an iced coffee with two shots of expresso and pulled out my laptop. He'd already apologized and given me the odds that he would be late so I'd brought work. I set a pair of thin metal reading glasses on my nose and begin responding to emails. And hour passed without me noticing interrupted only twice by a part-time worker refilling my cup. The room grew hot as the day got older and couples entered to enjoy their night and I tied my hair up off my neck.

The small silver bell attached to the door rang charmingly, announcing another customers entrance but I didn't bother looking up. I was editing photos now, I had to put together a portfolio for my final grade before graduating university that depicted my progression as an artist.Anyone that looked at the photos could tell how much I changed.

"Somin-ah. You're still here?" My gaze flickers up at the sound of his low, familiar voice. Standing in front of me wearing a black baseball cap is Min Yoongi.

"We agreed to meet here didn't we?" I ask, confused.

He smiles at me. "Five hours ago," he says glancing down at his watch.

"I lost track of time," I say looking out the window for the first time and notice the darkened sky. "The sunset."

"I called and texted you," Yoongi says, sitting down in front of me and I close my laptop screen to check my phone. Four missed calls and 7 text notifications popped up on my screen.

"Sorry, I must not have noticed." I unlocked my phone and looked at the messages.

I'm sorry, I'm going to be late today, please wait for me.

Sorry, just a bit longer.

Somin-ah, I'm an . I don't think I can make it tonight.

Please don't be mad, I promise to make it up to you.

Somin-ah please respond.

Please answer the phone.

Answer the phone damn it

There's no way you're still waiting for me, right?

"Why were you late?" I ask, suddenly feeling wronged.

"One of my sunbaes wanted to take everyone out for drinks, I couldn't get away." He says apologetically. Slowly, I reach forward and sniff the air around him.

"You smell like nicotine. I want a smoke," I sigh, leaning back in my seat and cross my arms.

"I thought you said you stopped smoking?" Yoongi asks, immediately distraught.

"I did," I say without offering him anything else. I might not have noticed time passing by, but he'd made me wait for five hours and practically stood me up. "What are you doing here? You texted me saying that you couldn't make it."

"The rest of my team is passed out in a bar, I sneaked away and Aaemi gave me my car keys. I thought that I come here just to check because you hadn't answered any of my texts or calls." Yoongi explains.

"Five hours late," I tell him. "What's stopping from walking out the doors?" I narrow my eyes.

Yoong bites his lip sheepishly.

"Me?"

I rolled my eyes not wanting to feel like smiling, but feeling like it anyways. Talking to him didn't feel as awkward as I had feared it would be. It felt like before, like the way we used to talk almost fifteen months ago, the way we talked on the phone.

"Let me order more drinks," Yoongi stands up, pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaving it on the table. "What would you like?"

"I want a blackberry smoothie," I say after taking a moment to look at the menu, suddenly craving something cold and sweet. Yoongi raises an eyebrow but walks to the counter to order. I busied myself with quickly finishing up the final descriptions of my pieces. The rings on my fingers glinted comfortingly as I relaxed my breathing and waited for Yoongi to return.

"Here," Yoongi sets the purple drink down on the table on top of several napkins. He sets a warm drink down in front of myself.

"Sorry, I'll just be a second," I say, my fingers speeding up. I only had a few sentences until I could wrap up my texture shots and then all I had left to write about was color, and I could do that in my sleep.

"Don't worry about it," he said and I hear him taking a drink. "Take your time." I don't pay him any heed and continue you type, promising to fix my grammar mistakes later and pull my reading glasses off my nose.

"Done?" He asks, shifting his weight to lean back in his seat.

"Yeah," I close my laptop lid and gather up my papers.

"What are you working on? School or work?" He asks curiously and for the first time since he's arrived, I forced myself to meet his eyes and examine his face. His dark eyes are open with interest and his smile is warm. He wore comfortable clothes, a plain t-shirt, and jeans and his familiar black boots.

"School," I say, realizing I had stayed quiet too long. "It's my final project, I'm graduating later this month."

He smiles widely, his eyes turning into crescents that make my heart heat up. "That's so good to hear, you're so popular around the world, I forget that you're still a college student."

"Yeah," I take a sip of my drink, not knowing what else to say. He was warm and familiar and seemed so willing to keep up our conversation but without the protection my phone screen between us my confidence wilted. It felt almost as if we were talking through a film, awkward and pressured as