The roses paint themselves

with blush from your cheek;

In the devilish darkness

your warmth I seek

Myungsoo feels full.

Ha can’t exactly explain the feeling, not because he will fall short of words but because this feeling is foreign, radical. He hates all things new and…different; he is actually terrified of changes. But this doesn’t feel so horrible, whatever this is. He feels warm and content. It must be the coffee. Or the coffee-black eyes staring at him. Or maybe it’s the pink, full lips. When he’s not smiling, he’s pouting. When he’s not pouting, he is biting his lips. When he is not biting his lips, he is smiling. Does staring at someone’s lips count as flirting? He hopes the boy doesn’t get any wrong idea. It’s not like he’s sending out a hint that he would love to kiss those lips. That will be so embarrassing. It is an old habit of his, smacking his lips when he looks at something for too long. Maybe not that old…well, the habit is quite new. The boy hopefully won’t take it otherwise, so it is safe to smack his lips and bite them as well.

Sungjong notes that the boy with the warm eyes also has very full lips.

Sungjong also notes that the boy looks embarrassed for some reason.

Could it be that it has occurred to him as well that they have been flirting? Without warning, a crimson blush spread across his cheeks. He steals a quick glance; the other boy is turning pink as well. This is not good. Suddenly, madness strikes him and he jumps up, collects his things like a madman and almost runs out of the shop. Gone with the wind. Gone, not around any longer. He doesn’t stop or look back. He feels bad about everything that has happened and he wishes he wasn’t so stupid, or such a flirt. He has probably been labeled as a creepy stalker in the other boy’s mind. As he walks home, the feeling of fullness and warmth fades away. He feels lonely, he is lonely. A lonely boy on a winter night.

Myungsoo is now sure the boy thinks he is a stalker; his embarrassment knows no bounds.

Mortified, Myungsoo gets up from his seat as well.

All the fuzziness that has collected during the evening fizzes away. He looks at the table beside the window one last time, and there on the floor beside the chair is a yellow scarf. Tentatively, he picks up the woolen warmth. It smells like…lemongrass mixed with coffee - a curious fragrance. Something clutters onto the floor. When Myungsoo picks it up, he doesn’t know if he should be happy or sad. The boy will probably be looking for his cellphone and there is a good chance he will call but would that make Myungsoo the hero for picking it up and returning it or a creepy stalker. As he ponders over the dilemma, the phone rings. The screen flashes the name ‘Hoya hyung’. He doesn’t pick up, he wants to think it over and then decide his course of action. The café is almost empty now and he uses the silence to his advantage as he slips into the chair that was, a few minutes ago, occupied by the boy. It’s still warm and comfortable. Almost as if he has left behind a part of him on the chair – the boy with the coffee eyes. After much consideration and careful planning, Myungsoo decides he’s going to give it a try. If the boy continues to think he’s a stalker, he can live with that. But if he lets this opportunity slip by, he cannot live with that. Maybe he cannot live with the first outcome as well.

Determined to take the next call, Myungsoo gets up again – this time heading out into the snow.