✿ ◉ ◉ ◉ Too Pretty to Behave
Pairing: Sung Hanbin × F/n
Genre: Romantic Fluff ・ Slow Burn ・ Modern AU
Themes: Fate ・ Emotional Intimacy ・ Soft Love ・ Mutual Choosing
Warnings: None — just sweetness ・ late-night feelings ・ mild emotional vulnerability
Synopsis: An accidental coffee mix-up leads F/n to meet Sung Hanbin, a kind and shy man whose quiet sincerity slowly turns into something deeper. What begins as exchanged numbers and casual conversation grows into late night calls, soft dates, and hesitant but genuine affection as they both realize they are choosing each other little by little.
The café was loud in the quiet way busy places usually were.
Soft conversations mixed with the sound of milk steaming, cups clinking, and keyboards tapping somewhere near the window seats. F/n was halfway through answering an email when her name was called from the counter.
She stood, grabbed the iced drink on instinct, and walked back to her table without checking it.
Before she could stand up again, someone approached her table.
“Um… I think you have my drink.”
And immediately understood why people talked about first impressions being dangerous.
He was standing there holding a cup identical to hers, looking slightly embarrassed but polite, like he genuinely felt guilty about something that wasn’t even his fault.
“You ordered an iced vanilla latte with oat milk?” F/n asked.
“I did,” he said. “But I’m guessing you didn’t?”
She glanced at her cup again. “No. I ordered the exact same thing.”
Then both of them laughed at the same time.
The stranger rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“I’ll buy you another one,” he said quickly. “To properly apologize.”
His tone wasn’t pushy. It was earnest. Almost nervous.
They waited side by side while the barista remade the drinks.
Conversation came easily after that about cafés, music, random thoughts, and how ridiculous it was that oat milk cost extra everywhere.
When it was time to leave, he hesitated.
“Can I get your number?” he asked. “So I can continue apologizing if necessary.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You plan on stealing my drink again?”
“Only if it means I get to see you.”
That night, the first text came.
I promise I won’t steal your drink again. But I might steal your time this weekend. Are you free?
She stared at her screen longer than she meant to.
Depends. Are you apologizing properly?
I take beverage related crimes very seriously.
He was already waiting when she arrived.
He stood immediately when he saw her, like it was instinct.
“Wow?” she repeated, amused.
“I had something smoother planned,” he admitted. “You ruined it.”
He listened when she spoke. Really listened. He didn’t check his phone. He leaned slightly closer when she laughed, like her voice mattered.
At one point, both of them reached for their glasses at the same time.
Neither pulled away immediately.
When he walked her home, the night felt softer than usual.
As they reached her apartment door, the air changed not heavy, just aware.
“I had a really good time tonight,” he said quietly.
“Even without stealing my drink?”
“Especially without stealing your drink.”
He lifted his hand slowly, giving her space to move away if she wanted.
His fingers brushed her cheek first gentle, careful before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Somehow it felt more meaningful.
“I’ll text you when I get home.”
Two minutes after she closed the door, her phone buzzed.
Still halfway down the block. Still thinking about you. Is that allowed?
And that was how it started.
The texting phase came naturally.
Pictures of skies from different cities.
I saw a dog that looked like it was judging me.
I think you would like this song.
One afternoon she sent a photo of her apartment window sky.
A little darker here, he replied. I think your city is prettier.
I wish I was standing next to you right now.
Late nights sometimes stretched past 2 a.m.
“Why are we still awake?” she asked once, lying in bed with her phone against her ear.
“Because I don’t want to hang up first.”
“I really like talking to you,” he said softly.
She swallowed. “I like talking to you too.”
Something shifted after that.
He asked her to be his girlfriend at the same café where they met.
“I don’t want to do this halfway,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “I like you. A lot. And I don’t want to keep pretending we’re not already choosing each other."
He reached across the table.
“I’m terrified,” he admitted. “But I’d regret not asking more.”
She placed her hand in his.
His smile after that was bright and unguarded.
He didn’t kiss her immediately.
He squeezed her hand first.
Because he understood it mattered.
Hanbin’s phone would buzz during practice breaks, and his expression would soften instantly.
One day someone said, “Bro, who are you texting?”
“That is not a ‘no one’ smile,” someone said. “That is a ‘she just sent something cute and I am emotionally compromised’ smile.”
Hanbin didn’t even deny it.
Which only made them more suspicious.
One night F/n called him.
After normal conversation drifted for a while, she said quietly, “Hey.”
“I’m really happy I met you.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“I think I started liking you the moment you argued with me about my drink.”
“You’re still thinking about that?”
“It was a very important moment in my life.”
Sometimes, late at night, he stared at his phone before sending messages.
Not because he didn’t know what to say.
But because he wanted to choose his words carefully.
Because F/n wasn’t someone he wanted to rush.
She was someone he wanted to keep choosing slowly.
Love didn’t feel like a storm with them.
It felt like sunlight through a morning window.
And somewhere between stolen coffee and shared nights of talking about everything and nothing at the same time, Hanbin realized one simple truth he was too shy to say out loud yet
He was already certain about her.
𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍.
Idk actually but I love this story it just came up for real.
