S t r a n g e r s

KyungSoo scans the crowded bookstore. He hesitates but decides to move to the middle where he had better chances of finding a good book. He thumbs through the new releases in the middle table but he suddenly jolts as a finger brushes against his.

Another mindless book shopper in search of a novel that can maybe help him pass time. They smile at each other. Eyes lock for a brief second as the other male nods and proceeds to disappear amidst the shelves lined at the side.

KyungSoo smirks as he tries to recall the last time he received such a warm smile from a stranger. Never.

He decides on a hardbound new release entitled I Don’t Want To Be Forgotten. He pays for it and leaves.

He stops by his usual cafe, orders his favorite Americano and sits outside. He reaches for his new book and starts reading. It's surprisingly addictive as he gets too absorbed with it.

Only after he realizes that he almost finished six chapters does he become fully aware that someone's eyeing him. It was that familiar warm smile from earlier.

The stranger stands, walks over to where he is, and sits beside him. He smiles that same smile in the bookstore. He gets a pen and paper and starts writing. KyungSoo can't help but drink in the features of this stranger who sat beside him.

"Do I know you?"

The unnamed guy just looks at him affectionately and goes back scribbling. Why doesn’t he find it awkward or weird that they’re sitting across the same table as if they’re friends. And more importantly, why did he accept the silent reply of this person?

He decides against better judgement and just sips his coffee and resumes reading. It was a good one and a half hour until the other closes his notebook, nods at him, and leaves wordlessly.

The next day finds KyungSoo on the same spot with the same book, sipping the same coffee. Is he here because he wishes that the stranger will share a quiet moment with him again? He doesn’t keep his hopes up.

But just like yesterday, the same guy who smiled at him at the bookstore and who quietly wrote on his notebook, sat from across KyungSoo’s table. He pulls the familiar brown notebook, and starts writing.

This time KyungSoo doesn’t ask who he was. He just let them there and let the wordlessness exist between them.

A week passes and so did seven mute encounters. KyungSoo becomes accustomed to seeing him almost everyday. The anonymous guy always had this air of sophistication. Crisp clothes, manicured hair and a soft countenance. He notices that the other started ordering Americano as well. Yet they never spoke. Never uttered a word.

KyungSoo looked forward to the brief encounters everyday, and each and everytime, he was never disappointed. He would sometime see the guy looking at him, eyeing even as if trying to study him. He never cared, as long as they were both there, nothing else mattered.

KyungSoo finally finished the book he was reading. Around that time, it stopped. The quiet meet ups. The wordless conversations. KyungSoo’s Americano stopped tasting good. It’s as if he lost a friend.

It didn’t just happen a single day. It went on for weeks. He would sit on the same corner as the shadow of the stranger betrays his expectations. He never sees him again.

KyungSoo was reading a magazine early morning and was flipping through it looking for an interesting article when he sees someone familiar. He stops. The strangers face was framed in a small box. He was smiling. That same warm smile he has grown accustomed to a few months back. He reads through the article.

His eyes grow wide as he learns of what and who this stranger was. He was an author and a loner. He spends most of his time alone writing novels in the comfort of his home. He never left his abode save for book signings and personal errands, and that was that.

Then suddenly, they noticed that he started going out. He left the comfort of his home more and more often. He became less of the recluse he was known for. They assumed that he needed inspiration for a new book.

But one eventful day while he was going home, an accident most unfortunate. He was hit by a car and the driver fesses to driving under the influence. He was dead on arrival at the local hospital

KyungSoo stops and couldn’t read any further. He looks at the author’s name.

Joonmyeon. Same name as the author of the book he was reading when they met. His eyes blur from emotions unknown and sadness most pure yet confusing. At the bottom of the article they mentioned the name of the book that the author was currently writing.

The Stranger With an Americano.

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Okay so it ended up being a one shot.

Not sure if it's any good though.

kkk~

Waddya think guys?

I know my stories center on death, I'll try to lighten up next time. :)

Comments will be appreciated better than donations. :)