“Chanyeol will be here in a moment,” Jongin sang, just as I was halfway through the threshold. “He’s on an errand.”

I frowned, but decided not to comment. I’d been here way too often to get insulted by their jibes, and the constant playful sneers that they subjected me to whenever I let Chanyeol’s name slip were the norm to me now.

He draped an arm over the register, purposely bumping his hip against Kyungsoo who was busy sweeping the floors with a broom. In retaliation, Kyungsoo knocked Jongin’s knees with the broom. That didn’t stop his next comment though. “I think we should get you a member card. You’re officially the most frequent customer that we’ve had since the past twenty years.”

“You were in diapers twenty years ago,” Kyungsoo pointed out drily, nudging Jongin aside with his broom. “And apparently, time hasn’t done anything to your maturity level yet.”

Jonging shrugged. “Hey, but twenty years is enough to grow from a clumsy kid to a hot barista.”

Kyungsoo groaned and rolled his eyes. “Apparently, your ego grew too.”

“Guys?” I said, waving my hand in front of them. “I suppose I’ve lost my novelty as a new customer by being here so often, but you boys do realise you still have to serve me, don’t you?”

“Alright, fine. Would you like anything, miss?” Jongin asked, bowing in mock politeness.

“Why thank you,” I said, satisfied, “but I’d just like you to pass a message.”

Jongin dropped the act. “Then why did you –”

Kyungsoo nudged him sharply before he could go on. “Sure, what is it?” he asked, ignoring the whimpers of pain Jongin was emitting as he doubled over, rubbing his stomach.

“Can you tell Chanyeol that I’d like to see him? At around five o’clock if he’s free.”

I arrived at a quarter to five, thinking that since I was the one who requested the meeting, the least that I could do was to be there upon his arrival. I was, however, a few minutes too late, because four forty-five found Chanyeol leaning against the doorway of the cafe, long legs stretched out in front of him as he ran his fingers through his hair.

He perked up when he saw me. “Hana!”

He bounded down the steps with the vigour and energy of a hyperactive child, and only stopped when he was just a few inches away from touching me. I didn’t step back, aware of how his warmth engulfed me despite that he hadn’t initiated physical contact, and just tilted my head back.

“Hi.”

Chanyeol grinned, showing a row of perfect teeth. His hair looked windblown, ruffled and out of place, but a quick corrective movement of his hand through the strands made them lie down again, smoothing them into position. I noticed how soft his hair seemed, and how his bangs were a few millimetres shy from meeting his eyes.

“Hi!” He made a move to wave at me, but then, realising that he had no space to raise his hand, settled on just having them clasped behind his back instead. “Kyungsoo told me that you wanted to talk to me.”

“At five,” I pointed out, checking my watch. “You’re early.”

“And so are you.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Let’s go in then.”

Chanyeol caught me by the hand before I managed to skirt around his impossibly tall figure. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

He smells like cocoa and cinnamon, I thought, as a gentle breeze blew and his scent wafted up to me. His clothes were crisp and ironed, and he had thrown on a jacket over a nice button up shirt and a pair of form-fitting jeans. In all honestly, he looked like a model from a magazine, but the sweetness of his expression and the brightness of his smile made him just a few merits short to be considered as one.

“Why not?” I asked, trying not to get too distracted by his face.

He pouted. I marvelled at how an adult could pull off the move successfully enough to rival whimpering puppies. “I don’t like it here.”

“You work here.”

“They eavesdrop,” he said, casting a warning glance towards several pairs of eyes staring at us from behind glass. “I don’t like them eavesdropping when I’m talking to you.”

“Alright,” I nodded numbly, furrowing my brows at Jongin, who was shooting me a thumbs up.

I shrieked a little when Chanyeol suddenly tugged me down the pavement.

I didn’t ask where he was planning on going. I was just too distracted with staring at his shoulders, broad and strong, developed after years of doing jobs that I figured required physical strength. His hands though, were undeniably gentle. There were slightly rough at the thumb and middle finger and his nails looked clean, albeit roughly cut, but they seemed to fit mine as how two puzzle pieces fell into place to form a larger picture. I was mulling over the analogy when he pulled me into a cafe.

I raised my brows at him. “If you were planning on going to a cafe, we could have just stayed at EXO.”

“I told you, they eavesdrop. They’re not very good at minding their own business,” he told me as he selected a table and led me to it.

“What would you like?”

I tried to peer at the menu above the counter. “I don’t know...”

“They have both coffee and mocha latte,” he offered, peering at the menu with me.

“Do they have caramel?”

I blinked when I realised what I said, and tried desperately to stem the rising blush colouring both my cheeks when Chanyeol slowly turned to look at me. His eyes were alight when he smiled playfully at me. “I don’t think so, because those two are actually my specialty.” He winked at me, and then headed off to order.

I buried my face in my hands and patted my cheeks, hoping to dispel the heat. It was true that I was gaining a steady fondness for all things caramel, but I didn’t think it was something that would blurt out so easily.

Chanyeol returned with two cups, setting mine down first, slowly and gently. “Latte,” he said, smiling down at me. “Though not exactly the caramel variety.”

I nodded, accepting the cup. “Why didn’t you order the mocha latte? Because, well,” I became flustered, “that’s what you mentioned.”

Chanyeol leaned across the table, as if he wanted to whisper a secret to me. “Because I want you to have only the ones I make.” He leaned back, satisfied, and I stared at him for a moment while his words sunk in. He smiled again when my blush returned.

“So what do you want to talk about?” he asked as he blinked innocently at me, pretending as if he hadn’t realised the effect that his words had on me.

I took a deep breath, suddenly reminded of my intent when I arranged this meeting. “Right.”

I rummaged into my purse, taking longer than necessary to extricate the box because of my unsteady hands and racing heart. Chanyeol didn’t appear to be perturbed. He just sat there and stared at me; it just unnerved me even more.

After much difficulty, I was finally able to produce a box. It was wrapped in silver paper (the only thing that Eunmi claimed to have when I asked her) and had a red ribbon which I had carefully tied and looped into a bow on top. Chanyeol’s eyes lit up at the sight of the box. “A present?”

“Yeah,” I said, somewhat relieved that I had managed to draw his attention elsewhere instead of having it focused on me. I watched as he gently turned it with his hands, inspecting it with the air of a child who’d just received his first present on his birthday. “It’s to say thank you.”

“Can I open it?”

“Sure.”

He did so carefully, gently tugging at the bow that held the wrap together, and taking it apart fold by fold. It was unnerving watching him do so, but at the same time touching because he cared enough to preserve my hard work. My breath hitched when he slid the box out of the hole at the side of the square.

“I couldn’t give it to him,” I explained, keeping my gaze away from his as he stared at the box. “He didn’t let me because...” I trailed off and decided to get everything that I had rehearsed out without digressing. “Anyway, I thought you should have it because, well, I picked it because of you.”

At first, I thought he was insulted because he kept his head bowed. I worried that he thought it unflattering to be considered as a second choice, but then, he looked up, eyes gentle and soft beneath his overgrown bangs, and smiled at me. My heart palpitated.

“Thank you.” Despite the muted din of the conversations around us, his words seemed to ring throughout the room. The syllables played itself in my head long after he had said it, and I was still distracted by the soft edges of his deep voice when he reached his hand across the table towards me.

He smiled sheepishly. “Help?”

I laughed a little, but reached out nevertheless to help him with the metal clasp. The watch looked as good on him as I had remembered, and I watched as he withdrew it to inspect it under the lights. I smiled softly at the pleased look he had on his place, but soon, it disappeared into a frown and he set his arm down.

“But I don’t have anything to give you,” he said, brows furrowing.

I shook my head frantically. “No, it’s a gift. You don’t have to.”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he leaned forwards and peered around me. Shocked, I pulled back, but his eyes were already glimmering. “Perfect! You have piercings.”

Before I could even process what he was doing, he had already unclasped the earring he was wearing on his left ear and was reaching over towards me.

“Chanyeol, what –”

“Shh,” he said, catching my face gently with his hand, “stay still.”

I remained frozen as he leaned towards me and reached for the side of my head. His fingers were surprisingly deft as he worked to slip the tiny earring in, and I could feel the gentle brush of his fingers as he tucked my hair away. I held my breath the whole time.

He leaned back when he was done, satisfied. “There. Now we’re even.”

“But it was a gift,” I repeated meekly.

“Mine is too.”

“Chanyeol –”

“I hope you keep it,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s one of a kind.” He smiled, and then winked at me.

“I see that you’ve taken the next step,” Jongin commented, slinging a tan arm around Chanyeol’s neck as he twirled the dish cloth in slow, lazy spins.

Chanyeol’s smile, which had been gracing features all the while he was serving me, turned into a frown as he elbowed Jongin in the ribs, whether to free himself from the confines of Jongin’s partial embrace or merely to get him to stop talking, I had no idea.

I frowned at Jongin in confusion, and just focused on balancing the iPad I had tucked in the crook of my arm before I answered. “What step?”

Jongin smirked. He lifted the corners of his lips slowly and deliberately, as if he was relishing the question and the answer it called for. He lifted the arm he had slung around Chanyeol slightly brush his right ear. “The earrings. You’re each wearing a part of the same set.”

I blushed, my hand instinctively moving to touch the small silver earring Chanyeol had carefully pinned into my right ear. It was still cool to the touch, the small stone embedding its centre smooth as I grazed my finger over its surface. I had gotten so used to it these past few days that I didn’t even think to twice as to why I was wearing one earring without the other. It gave me strange comfort to know that Chanyeol had its twin, and that he was probably as adamant as I was in our refusal to take them off.

Chanyeol’s cheeks were red as he forcefully pushed Jongin away, lips pressed tight.

It took a lot more strength to make him budge though. He shook his head at us. “Really guys. Why not you two just admit it? It’s so painfully obvious that you li–”

Chanyeol smothered Jongin’s face with the cloth that he wrestled out of his grip and smiled brightly at me, as if he didn’t have a writhing captive within his clutches suffocating from lack of air.

“I’ll have your order done in a minute,” he said cheerily, and then proceeded to drag Jongin away with him towards the machines, ignoring the wails of pain that the latter was emitting as Chanyeol accidentally knocked his body against the sharp corner of a counter.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Despite the endless teasing and Jongin’s persistent pestering, I still remained as one of EXO’s most frequent patrons. It appeared that all the boys had memorised my order by heart, and had the seat by the window reserved especially for me every evening at four. I found that the boys and I were growing to be quite good friends, and once Joonmyun even asked to me to sample a menu for him.

“To guarantee customer satisfaction,” he told me when I asked why he required my input. “And besides, you come here every day; I highly doubt we’ll be able to chase you away with one unpleasant dessert.”

It ended up being the best thing that I had ever tasted, and Kyungsoo beamed with pride when I announced it.

It soon became a regular occurrence, the boys using me as a taste tester. I had sampled almost all the cookies that Kyungsoo had made, several puff pastries that Jongin insisted had to be in the menu, but vetoed by Joonmyun out of the reason that they were fickle to make, and also several of the boys’ experimental brews that ranged from utterly delectable to downright horrible.

“Hey, I thought it would be a good mix,” Jongin had protested as I sat there coughing my lungs out while Chanyeol hovered protectively behind me, gently rubbing soothing circles on my back.

“Yeah, next time, stick to the recipe,” Kyungsoo had told him, shoving a rag into his hand and ushering him towards the counter, hands on his hips as he ordered the baleful Jongin to clean up the mess he made.

The sudden break in my routine came weeks later, when I was on my to the cafe with my laptop tucked underneath my arm and saw Chanyeol shifting restlessly at the doorstep, looking slightly frazzled. He had on a plain shirt and a pair of denim jeans, which emphasized rather nicely the sharp lines of his figure and the length of his legs.

“Chanyeol? What are you doing out here?” I asked. I noticed that he was holding a cup in his hands, and the smell that wafted up from it alone was able to tell me that it was my favourite out of his special creations.

“Um...” He jumped, his lashes fluttering with every rapid blink, and smiled that toothy smile which I had grown to love. “Surprise?” He held out the cup hesitantly.

“Yah, Park Chanyeol, fighting!” a voice –one that I recognised clearly as Jongin’s –hollered from behind the glass.  We turned and found that he had his nose pressed onto the glass window, wide grin in place.

Chanyeol’s eyes were wide, but he managed to curl his hand into a fist and aim a punch at the direction of Jongin’s face. The glass between them provided him sufficient protection from Chanyeol’s fist, but Jongin still withdrew by instinct, before being hoisted away by the arms by both Joonmyun and Kyungsoo, who both marched him to his station at the counter.

“So, can we, um, talk?” he asked, turning back to face me once he was sure that Jongin was too preoccupied to interrupt.

“Chanyeol, you don’t need permission for a conversation.”

He laughed, his voice low and melodious, and took my wrist and led me away.

I wasn’t really surprised to learn that he didn’t really have a destination in mind, and I was perfectly content to accompany him throughout the various hangouts in town. We didn’t stop anywhere for very long, but Chanyeol always seemed to have some crazy idea that he was particularly insistent on fulfilling. It almost always ended with us being kicked out of a shop, or rudely requested to depart before he caused much damage to a particular site.

It was only hours later that I realised that Chanyeol hadn’t fulfilled his purpose, which was to have a discussion.

I voiced it out, and for a few minutes I was treated to a shyer version of Chanyeol, different from the one that I was used to. His expression was hesitant and his eyes looked anxious, but I decided to refrain from further coaxing and allow him the space he needed.

“You know, they won’t stop it,” he suddenly said, just as I was getting distracted by a particularly large butterfly that had lightly brushed the top of my head. Our ventures around the city had finally taken us to the park, where Chanyeol had promised would be the last place we explored.

“Stop what?” I asked absently, more interested by the colours on the butterfly’s wings at the moment than what he had to say.

“The teasing.

“I can see that.”

“It gets worse when you’re gone.”

I smiled as the butterfly flapped its wings faster and began its ascent to the sky. “You know how they are.”

“I can think of only one way to stop them.”

“Oh really? How?”

“If you and I really date.”

I blinked, and then turned to look at him. The butterfly escaped my line of vision - and soon, my thoughts –as I struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

His cheeks, flushed crimson, were enough to assure me that this wasn’t a dream.

“I already like you,” he said, words tumbling out of his mouth at the speed of a bullet train, “as in really really like you, since the very beginning. I just never said anything because I don’t know how it’s going to go and this is really not how I pictured things going....” He trailed off, and then glanced at me to gauge my expression. “But if you don’t feel comfortable with it, it’s fine,”

Still blushing, he quickly sped up his pace.

A little smile spread itself across my lips. Without a second thought, I quickly caught up with him and wrapped by arms around him from behind. I giggled when he jumped in surprise. “Yes, I think that’s a good proposition.”

It took a moment for Chanyeol to realise what I meant, and when he did, he spun around and pulled me into his arms.

“I promise that I won’t ever break your heart,” he said softly, holding me close.

I laughed. “Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

Chanyeol pulled back, sputtering indignantly, but paused when I laid my head on his shoulder. “But I believe you.”

THE END

Thanks for reading. :)