Chapter 8

Kyungsoo didn’t notice Jongdae’s presence as anything abnormal for most of Yena’s shift, so she kept an eye on both of them as she served customers, took a break, checked their theory homework, then went back to work. She was beginning to get increasingly nervous by Jongdae’s presence there because he didn’t seem to show any sign of leaving, and the more he stayed, the more likely it was for Kyungsoo to see him, or the gloves, or for him to talk to her (though that was a bit less likely, since he didn’t exactly seem the type to start conversations). By the time it was nearly three and her shift was almost over, none of them had moved from where they were, though Jongdae had ordered another tea. Junmyeon had complained briefly about her friends being too loud, then promptly went to take a nap in the staff room, leaving her alone with Minseok.

He left a bit earlier than her and Heechul took his shift. Yena didn’t even notice them switch—it was empty in the afternoon, and Sehun, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had quieted down to do their own work—and the lack of customers coming in and out and gradually made it boring with nothing to do. Yawning, she leaned forward on the foldable chair she’d dragged out, ready to close her eyes for a couple of seconds at the counter, when someone tapped her on the back.

“Surprise,” Heechul half-yelled into her ear, and Yena toppled off the chair in shock.

There was a crash as she took a stack of paper cups down with her—less damage than it could’ve done—but the chair also knocked over, folding out from under her, and in the end, paper cups were strewn all around her and everyone in the cafe was looking at her. It would’ve been fine since there were only four customers and three of them were her friends, but Jongdae had also looked up from what he was doing—which turned out to be packing his stuff—to stare at the commotion.

Mentally, she groaned. Whirling around to look at Heechul, she jabbed an accusing finger at him. “What the hell was that?”

“Are you reaching for my hand?”

Face already red, she shooed him away and picked herself up. Jongdae had looked away and was focussed on whatever he was doing at the minute—Yena didn’t know if that was a good thing or bad—but Kyungsoo and the rest of them weren’t done snickering. Groaning, she bent down to pick the cups up from the floor again. Heechul, seemingly having finished his fill of causing destruction, went back to the counter even though there was no one there.

She set them back up. Kim Jongdae had shouldered his bag, holding the mug with the cafe’s symbol printed at the front. It took Yena a couple of seconds to realize that he was heading towards the counter, and then a second more to panic before she reached upwards in a vain attempt to smooth out her hair, which had come out from the bun she’d hastily done. It obviously hadn’t survived Heechul. Yena managed to push up her glasses at the last moment before Jongdae approached, but she noticed two things at the very last moment: firstly, her apron had come undone, which really wasn’t too much a worry compared to the fact that Kyungsoo was looking towards them.

Jongdae handed the cup over to her. He still wasn’t wearing his gloves, to her relief, because that was hopefully Kyungsoo’s only way of distinguishing who he was. Briefly, his fingers brushed over hers when he handed her the cup, then he let go and offered a slight smile. “Thank you,” was all he said before he dipped his head then turned the other way.

Yena didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until Jongdae turned away. Her first comprehensible thought was that he was really handsome, but that wasn’t exactly anything new, and then she caught a glimpse of him pulling something from the pockets of the coat—gloves.

Panic seeped through her. Kyungsoo was still watching him, and he slipped the gloves on before he pushed open the door and stepped through. The bell chimed behind him, and then he was gone.

“Well,” Yena started, still holding his mug of finished green tea, “it’s getting chilly, so I should probably dig my mittens out—”

“Wasn’t that that guy?” Heechul demanded. “The one you said was hotter than me?”

She couldn’t help but glance towards Kyungsoo, who, from what she could see, had already pieced it together. “Heechul,” Yena started nervously. “I think you’ve got the wrong one—”

“Who the hell wears gloves right now?” Kyungsoo demanded. “Is he trying to be edgy?”

“I’m sure he has a reason,” Yena started to say, but Kyungsoo was already moving on.

“That’s the Beijing subway guy, isn’t it?”

She shot Heechul a dirty look, which he remained completely unaffected by, and then turned to look at Kyungsoo. “That’s another one.”

“Guys, we found the stalker,” Kyungsoo announced loudly. “It’s a perfect match. Heechul himself confirmed it and he’s wearing gloves.”

“You really shouldn’t be solving it like this.”

“He came again today,” he went on mercilessly, “you really ought to be careful.”

“Jongdae’s not a stalker—” Yena began.

“You know his name?” Chanyeol demanded so loudly that Yena jumped.

Heechul frowned. “Can we first agree I’m better looking?”

“No,” Yena and Chanyeol said at the same time.

“I mean,” Chanyeol went on, “look at what he’s wearing. He’s probably like, some rich heir.”

“Wait,” Kyungsoo said, ignoring all of them, beginning to frown. At that point, Yena wasn’t sure whether or not he genuinely believed that Jongdae was a stalker or if it was still a joke. It was always impossible to tell with Kyungsoo. “How do you know his name again?”

She contemplated the flower shop story. That had been completely her—unless Kim Jongdae had the ability to read minds, there was no way he would know she was going to randomly drop by the flower shop, but telling it to Kyungsoo would probably make him insist that he was a stalker. After a couple of moments, Yena decided, “I asked him.”

Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow. “I’ve known you for thirteen years and you’ve never asked a stranger for their name just because they came to a place you’re working at for a couple of times.” He narrowed his eyes. “How many times has he been here?”

She was digging the hole deeper for herself. Groaning, Yena shook her head at him. “Like… four,” she muttered. “I asked him. Because he’s cute.”

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