You didn't know.

It was in the middle of a busy, stressful workday—I work on Saturdays, too, and I consider it a workday—when I finally found the courage to tell my boss that I had a bit of an emergency. And by emergency, I meant you.

You texted me in the morning, right after I took a sip of my black coffee, gearing up for what lay ahead of me at work. You definitely caught me off guard that I choked and started coughing.

I was reluctant to text you back, afraid that I might say something I would later regret. I still did it, anyway, despite being unsure how I could hop away from an important photoshoot. I agreed to meet up with you.

My boss looked at me as if I just handed him my resignation letter. I did my best to look pitiful, not wanting to explain further, and it worked.

I left the photoshoot, and once alone in the elevator, I let go of the loud laugh I've been holding in. My boss would definitely kill me if he finds out the stunt I managed to pull off.

It was all worth it, though. When I saw you sitting at one of the tables in the coffee shop, all my worries were wiped away. You had a shy smile on, your head was turned to the glass wall, looking out to the busy streets.

I walked leisurely to your table, taking my time, committing every detail of the precious image to my memory.

"Hey," I said, one hand half raised in a timid greeting.

You tilted your head to focus your eyes on me. The shy smile was replaced with a grin. You seemed genuinely happy to see me. I must have looked the same, since I heard a soft chuckle escape your lips. A blush immediately followed, dominating both of your cheeks.

God, I love you.

Wait, what? I didn't say that out loud, right? Did I? No, I didn't. You just continued blushing as I took my seat across from you. I sighed in relief and mentally thanked the gods for not allowing me to look like an idiot on this momentous day.

It took you five whole minutes, just staring at me, before you managed to utter a word. Yes, right, I was counting.

I didn't want to rush you. I wanted you to take your time. It didn't matter that I was already itching to drink your frappe—my throat has gone dry from too much gulping—I just wanted to hear what you had to say. I didn't think it would be necessary to order one.

I waited, and when you finally opened your mouth, I felt a deep pang of jealousy hitting every nerve in my body. A strong feeling of uncertainty and doubt rising from the pit of my stomach.

I wished you didn't have to be so detailed about how your best friend confessed to you. I wished it didn't have to hurt so much hearing you talk about it.

It hurt so bad that I needed a distraction.

My gaze fell on the green coffee stirrer beside the wad of brown napkins on our table. I wasn't sure what it was for, since I'm pretty certain frappes don't need stirring. I mean, you have the straw to do that. Unless you've been drinking coffee before I arrived. That was the only explanation I could come up with.

You finally finished talking. I looked back up at you, and I saw a sad, resigned look on your face. You seemed to be on the verge of crying. I wanted to hold you, tell you that it's okay, but I restrained myself. I told myself that we could cry about this later. When it was just the two of us. The world—four crews and five other customers—didn't need to see how vulnerable we were at this moment.

Then I heard you comparing yourself to your past boyfriends. It sounded more like a mumble, but I heard it anyway. You must have voiced out your thoughts out loud, because you looked surprised when I replied.

"No, you're not," I said, and I truly meant it.

"W-What do you mean?" you stuttered.

"You're not heartless, and you're definitely not the same as them," I explained further.

I wanted to engulf you in a warm embrace, and never let you go ever again. But, again, I held back.

"You're just stuck in a situation that neither of us can control," I continued.

You then asked me if I was mad, as if you expected me to be mad. I had to laugh at that, remembering my friend Hitomi who asked me a similar question, like she expected me to be not okay even when I said I was.

Maybe I was a bit mad, but that was before I agreed to meet up with you. Back when you deliberately ignored me.

I was buying a new sweater for my friend Yuri. She has this fondness for knitted ones. It was her birthday, so I decided to get her a new one.

You were on the other side of the glass wall, out in the busy streets. Your eyes were focused on your phone, engrossed on a text message that someone must have sent you.

I knew it was you even though your head was bowed down a little and some of your hair was blocking your face. You were wearing the same white button-down shirt that you wore the last time we met.

You lifted your head after a while, and your eyes darted inside the clothing store. I got nervous, so I immediately shifted my gaze so you wouldn't know that I was staring at you first.

But, my friend Eunbi was with me that time, and she caught you staring at me even before I saw you.

"She's been staring at you. I've been wondering when she's gonna come in."

You were already gone before I could decide if I were to run after you.

"You should have told me," I told my friend, irritatingly.

"Tell you? And then what? You're gonna chase after her, again?"

Again? Flashes of the night when I first met you came spiraling back to me.

"I'm sure she has her reasons," I wanted to convince not just my friend but also myself.

Eunbi sneered, letting out a humorless chuckle. "Serious