it was him. the coffee shop boy, with the big eyes and elvish ears. he always wore the same circle rimmed glasses and large grey hoodie, although on him it fit perfectly, it would swamp your tiny body, leaving nothing but a small face, peering out of the oversized hood.
on sunny days in the spring or summer, heād sit outside wiith his little maltese, napping at his feet. heād flip effortlessly through whichever book heād picked up at the library that week, quietly humming to himself. when he was concentrating especially hard his dimples would make an appearance on his soft cheeks, almost taking your breath away.
it was on one of those fresh spring mornings that it happened; now, youād never believed in all the soulmate crap your grandparents had told you when you were young, āas soon as you touch you know itās true love, you know youāll live the rest of your life with that person,ā they said āit feels like an electric shock, but the kind that energises you, instead of hurting you.ā
of course you were skeptical, they were old and knew nothing of modern love, and how it didnāt always plan out, at least not like it did in their time. but that day was different, you felt a wave of optimism wash over you. you saw the coffee shop boy with his dog, sat at their usual spot, to the right of the door, closest to the dog bowl. his brown, curly hair glistened in the sun and danced in the breeze. his feet tapped to the beat of the music in his head and his fingers patted the pages of his newest book, The Book Thief. you recognised the cover immediately and decided to go over and strike up a conversation. it seemed easy in your head, but things never played out exactly as you wanted.
you made your way over, expecting to be able to sit opposite him, and spark a conversation about Hans Hubermann or the portrayal of death, or something of an equally intellectual standard.
you straightened your shirt and were just about to sit when she sat down opposite him. she was tall, slim and beautiful, even you couldnāt deny that she really was stunning. coffee shop boy mustāve thought so too, because as soon as she sat down his big eyes lit up and his dimples appeared due to the grin on his face. you turned and sat back down on your original table, staring enviously at the couple, feeling an unworthy hatred towards the woman.
as time went by coffee shop boy and his partner frequented the coffee shop more often, always ordering the same drinks, but never ordering the same dessert twice.
in spring, theyād order iced coffee, laughing at the misfortune of the other getting a brain freeze.
in summer, theyād order milkshakes and smoothies, grinning and talking about how they were ābeing healthy, it had fruit in it didnāt it?ā you couldnāt help but smile. you really were happy for them, more specifically, coffee shop boy.
you only saw them once in autumn, theyād both sat down quietly, each with a halloween themed drink. they sipped quietly, occasionally look over their mugs to participate in serious small talk. that was it for that season, he didnāt return until the next year, and you missed him.
as spring turned to summer, summer turned to autumn, and autumn turned to winter youād fallen in love with coffee shop boy, with the way heād acted when he was in love. it was the small things you loved the most; the way he pulled out a chair for his date every time they arrived; the way he always offered her his last biscuit; the way he stared at her with emoji-like āheart eyes.ā
you waited, every saturday morning youād go down to the coffee shop, a small attempt at being able to catch another glimpse of his long gangly legs, or big elephant ears.
but finally he made a reappearance. you noticed a change in coffee shop boy that rainy january morning. he was alone. not even his trusty maltese was there to accompany him in his coffee. his hair had turned from shiny to dull. it no longer danced in the wind but clung to face with damp. his expression showed nothing but sadness and you couldnāt help but pity him, tossing aside all feelings of envy youād had towards him before.
you picked up your plate and sat opposite him, āi ordered too much cake, i thought, seeing as you donāt have any cake, you might like to share some?ā you felt your cheeks redden and the room became a sauna as coffee shop boyās eyes fixated on yours first, and then the cake before him.
he smiled and picked up a fork, delving into the rich chocolate. hardly glancing up from his book the entire time.
āmy nameās connie,ā you beamed, āitās nice to meet you.ā
the boyās attention broke from the book as his eyes widened āiām so sorry, i shouldāve introduced myself,ā he apologised, smiling nervously, āiām chanyeol.ā
he was in such a rush to reach and shake your hand he knocked his book off the table and it landed on the floor with a thud. it was only a small book, but it was heavier than it first appeared.
To Kill A Mockingbird.
you reached down to pick it up for him. your hands met and it felt like a thousand volts if electricity had shot up your arm, but it didnāt hurt, it felt like the concept of being struck by lightening, as opposed to the action. you looked up and his eyes peered over the lenses of his usual circle rimmed glasses. he smiled a shy smile and picked up the book in slightly shaking hands.
āitās very nice to meet you connie, i hope this becomes a regular meeting, except, of course, iāll pay for the cake next time,ā he grinned, bowing his head slightly.
heād obviously felt it too, you could tell by the way his eyes shone the richest shade of brown, not unlike the cake resting on his fork, and his dimples indented his now rosy cheeks, delicately.
āonly if you promise to bring your dog next time,ā you pouted. chanyeol chuckled, but nodded his head in reply.
āanything to see you again,ā he said, shoving the cake into his mouth, causing you to laugh.
