Kang Seungyoon loves coffee shops. Always have and most likely always will. He has been to so many of them in the past year that just the number of the shops he has visited in the very city he lives in is staggering. He doesn’t have anything in particular that he is searching for but still, he keeps coming to them and going, one coffee shop at a time.

Maybe someday he’ll find the reason. Whatever that may be.

It was on a fairly sunny yet chilly morning when Seungyoon happened upon a quaint coffee shop tucked away in a barely noticeable alley. It did not look like much from the outside but once he stepped in, he just had this overwhelming feeling of palpable relief come to him. That feeling of ‘finally finding something’ even though he was not even searching for anything to begin with.

The coffee shop was empty but it was warm and very inviting, smelling so much of ground coffee beans and of the assortment of freshly baked goods that they had on display. Seungyoon felt like he was coming home to its mismatched chairs and worn wooden tables, which he found to be absolutely charming. Pictures of unknown folks are on the walls, in monochrome and in sepia with a heavy sprinkling of colored polaroids pinned in-between. Sunshine filtered quietly through the lone front window and Seungyoon watched dust motes twirl freely before his eyes. He breathes in deeply, letting the strange almost mystical atmosphere in the coffee shop wrap comforting arms around his body.

This place is it. This place feels like whatever it was that he felt he had been searching for all this time.

He walks over to the counter, a part of him excited and another part of him very much intrigued. Just what is it about this place that stirs him up? The barista behind the counter stares at him expectantly and Seungyoon’s gaze flickers down to the name tag that was pinned on his chest, growing pleased to read a name so close to his own.

“I’m Seunghoon. Welcome to Kaffe Lagom! What would you like to order?”

Seungyoon looks up at the chalkboard hanging behind him, becoming instantly impressed with the chalk art that accompanied the brazenly handwritten drink menu together with their specials.

“Mino drew them.” Seunghoon, the barista, sounded proud, “The two of us work here together and he is very good with latte art as well.”

He must be, Seungyoon doesn't doubt. This ‘Mino guy’ has turned this coffee shop’s menu into a stunning work of art. He should definitely remember to take a picture of it later before he leaves.

After placing his order, Seungyoon decides to wait for his coffee by the counter, taking in the view of the empty tables before him. His eyes are drawn to the front window again where a small table for two was being bathed in shimmering morning light, almost as if it was calling out to him. He starts to move towards it, stopping in his tracks when he hears the front door open to a young man who looked to be about the same age he is.

Tall, lithe, and incredibly appealing with sand-colored hair and a ridiculously prepossessing face. Seungyoon quietly keeps his eyes on him, watching him as he takes one of the seats on the table that he had in mind. He looked absolutely ethereal in his eyes, bathed in pristine sunlight with his facial features so delicate and his skin so pale.

There is something about him, something about the strange ruckus that just started up in his chest, something about the way he looks out the coffee shop's only window - hauntingly and beautifully somber.

“Can I sit with you?”

The words are out of his mouth faster than he can think them. The young man turned to face him and his eyes - a soft caramel color sparkling under the glare of sunlight - bore into his before flickering over his face for a brief moment. Blood pools beneath Seungyoon's cheeks and he is almost certain that they are now the color of poppy.

“It’s my first time here.” he tells him with a smile, offering his hand, “My name is Seungyoon. Kang Seungyoon.”

The young man blinks slowly, ignoring his hand while he holds his breath. Eventually, he nods ever so slightly, making Seungyoon feel like he’s won some sort of marvelous prize. He quickly settles in his seat, his eyes inexplicably drawn to him. They trace the outline of his body as he leaned towards the glass. Seungyoon watches him wordlessly as he watches the world outside go by. There's a warm feeling that he rouses in him, a feeling that's been dormant for so long. 

“Do you come here often?”

There was no response, the young man sitting across him doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. Silence stretches between them giving Seungyoon a chance to study him carefully. Simply watching him was poetry eno