wc as of 15th july : 10,997
categories: slice of life, angst, major character death, college au, fluff, slow burn
"Don't read them all at once."
That was the promise Hyunjin was supposed to keep.
Years after Jeongin's death, all he has left are the letters, each one pulling him back to the beginning, when they were just two college students who happened to meet in a neighborhood café. Between lectures, late night study sessions, shared laughter, and countless ordinary days, a friendship slowly becomes something much harder to lose.
slow-burn strangers-to-lovers story about first love, found family, grief, and how the smallest moments are often the ones that stay with us forever.
ao3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/88545636
i will be making a master list for this fic here aswell!! Masterlist
it is unfinished but is updated regularly! keep in mind english is not my first language so go easy on me :)
also i have to mention , chapter titles and summaries may be different from tumblr and ao3 but the work itself is always the same!!!
Hyunjin used to think silence was peaceful. Before. Before it became something he actively noticed, a heavy presence pressing against his chest rather than a lack of sound. There was a stark difference between a room that was simply quiet and a room that was hollowed out, missing a vital piece of its gravity.
The clock above the kitchen counter ticked softly, each rhythmic strike stretching the seconds out longer than they had any right to be. Outside his window, the city continued its relentless, indifferent motion. Cars drove past on the asphalt below. Distant laughter drifted up from the sidewalk. Somewhere in the neighborhood, a dog barked from a balcony across the street. The world had kept moving, entirely undisturbed by the fracture in his own timeline. Hyunjin hated that it had.
His gaze drifted slowly toward the dark wooden drawer beside his desk. He had avoided opening it for three years. It wasn't because he had forgotten. Never because he forgot. It was entirely because he remembered too much, and his mind couldn't handle the weight of the clarity.
Steeling himself, he pulled the drawer open. Inside sat a small, plain cardboard box. There was nothing special about it,no intricate decorations, no velvet lining. That was the worst part. It was just a utilitarian container he had salvaged while moving apartments, yet it carried more gravity than anything else he owned.
Inside were letters. Dozens of them. Each crisp white envelope bore Jeongin's unmistakable, neat handwriting on the front.
The first time Hyunjin had looked at them after the funeral, he hadn't been able to open a single one. He had sat on the floor for nearly an hour, staring blankly at his own name written in dark ink, paralyzed by the terrifying finality of it. It felt as though opening an envelope would make the loss absolute. It felt as though keeping them sealed allowed a delusional part of him to pretend that Jeongin was just busy, or away on a trip, and would eventually walk back through the cafe doors with that bright, dimpled smile to tease him about his order.
Hyunjin let out a long, quiet breath, the sound catching slightly in his throat. Three years later, and the fundamental ache hadn't changed.
His fingers reached into the box, brushing past the envelopes he had already painstakingly read over the years. His hand stopped at the very bottom. The final letter sat there, pristine and untouched. The one he had aggressively avoided. The one Jeongin had explicitly instructed him not to touch until he was truly ready.
Hyunjin hated how well Jeongin had known him, well enough to anticipate that he wouldn't be ready. Not after a year. Not even after three.
He turned the envelope over in his hands. His name wasn't written as "Hyunjin," nor did it use his full legal name. Written across the center in a soft, familiar script was just one word: Jinnie.
His throat tightened instantly, a sudden ache blooming behind his eyes. No one called him that anymore. No one had the right to.
Slowly, his thumb slid under the seal. The paper inside was folded into neat, sharp thirds, matching the meticulous precision Jeongin always applied to setting up the cafe pastry cases. For a moment, Hyunjin’s fingers froze, unable to flatten the page. Then, a memory surfaced , of Jeongin sighing softly, telling him he overthought things until his own brain tripped him up. With shaking hands, Hyunjin unfolded the letter.
Hyunjin.
If you're reading this, it means you finally listened to me. I'm honestly surprised. I thought I knew you pretty well, but apparently I was wrong, because you managed to ignore a very simple instruction for three whole years.
Hyunjin froze, the words blurring for a split second. A sudden laugh escaped him before he could suppress it. A small, broken, breathy sound that bounced uselessly off the bare walls of the room.
"You're unbelievable," he whispered, his voice disappearing instantly into the empty space.
He lowered his gaze back to the page, swallowing hard as he continued.
Before you start crying, don't. Actually, that's an impossible request, isn't it? You cried when that golden retriever in the movie got lost in the woods, even though it was found safe five minutes later. You still sobbed into your sweater.
Hyunjin pressed his lips together, the brief warmth of the memory fading into a sharp sadness. That was the cruelty of it. Jeongin hadn't just remembered the milestones or the broad strokes of their time together. He had archived the small things. The embarrassing, trivial details that Hyunjin didn't think anyone was paying attention to.
I know you hate goodbyes. You always have. You pretend you don't care, or you throw yourself into a drawing to hide, but you do. You like pretending things don't hurt until the exact moment they break you.
Hyunjin’s eyes stopped moving across the paper. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air growing thick. Jeongin had always seen right through the artistic armor. Not because Hyunjin had ever explicitly bared his insecurities, but because Jeongin simply noticed. He watched, he cataloged, and he cared.
That's why I made these letters. I didn't want there to be one single day where you had to lose everything all at once. So I hope you don't hate me for doing this. I wanted you to keep pieces of me with you. Not because I wanted you to stay stuck in the past, Hyunjin, but because I wanted you to remember that there was a time when we were completely happy.
Hyunjin lowered the letter slightly, his knuckles turning white as his fingers tightened around the edges of the paper. A wave of unspoken arguments flooded his mind. He wanted to dispute the text. He wanted to yell at the empty room, to tell Jeongin that he was entirely wrong. He didn't need a collection of paper and ink. He didn't want pieces. He needed the whole person. He needed the boy behind the counter.
But the apartment remained stubbornly silent, offering no echo. And for the first time in three long years, Hyunjin allowed the truth to leave his lips.
"I missed you," he said aloud. The words felt foreign, rough and heavy, like an object he had kept locked away in the dark for far too long.
He forced his eyes back down to the final lines waiting at the bottom of the page.
Open the next one when you're ready.
Hyunjin looked back into the cardboard box, his eyes landing on the next envelope sealed in the queue. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched his lips. Even now, long after the world had shifted, Jeongin was still enforcing patience. He was still guiding his steps, still dictating the tempo, still taking care of him from a distance.
Hyunjin set the letter down on the cushion beside him. He didn't reach for the next envelope. He wasn't ready for it yet, and he knew it. But as he leaned back against the couch, looking at the open drawer, he didn't put the box away either. For the first time since the silence had started, he left it right where it was
As another day unfolds at the café, familiar routines, quiet conversations, and a late-night study session reveal that sometimes the smallest moments are the ones that leave the biggest impression.
The streetlights outside were still flickering against the pale blue twilight when Jeongin pushed open the heavy glass door of the cafe.The cafe bells chimes once again. The familiar scent of stale coffee beans and clean polished wood washed over him, a comforting weight that immediately made him feel awake.
He flipped the light switches by the door. One by one, the warm, low-hanging Edison bulbs hummed to life, casting golden pools over the empty wooden tables and the neat rows of chairs turned upside down.
Jeongin tied his dark green canvas apron around his waist, smoothing down his oversized beige sweater. He set up the cash register, washed his hands, and began wiping down the gleaming marble counter. The only sound was the soft thrum-thrum of the refrigerator units and his own quiet humming.
Then, the back door rattled.
"Jeongin-ah!" A burst of crisp morning air rushed into the kitchen as Yunho stumbled through the rear entrance,balancing a cardboard box of freshly delivered pastries on one forearm while trying to kick the door shut behind him with his heel. He failed, the door slamming louder than intended, but he just laughed it off—a bright, booming sound that shattered the morning silence.
"You're early," Jeongin said, jogging over to take the heavy pastry box from him before Yunho could drop it.
"I bought a new bike!" Yunho announced proudly, shedding his oversized denim jacket and tossing it onto the breakroom coat rack. He immediately bounded behind the counter, his giant frame making the narrow barista workspace look suddenly small. "I flew down the hill. I think I beat my personal record by three minutes."
"Please tell me you wore a helmet this time," Jeongin muttered, carrying the pastries to the front display case.
"Of course I did. I look like a giant mushroom in it, but safety first." Yunho tied his apron strings with practiced, chaotic speed and immediately walked over to the massive espresso machine. He patted the top of it affectionally. "Good morning, beautiful. Let's wake you up."
The machine let out a loud, grinding hiss as Yunho began purging the steam wands. Jeongin knelt by the pastry display, carefully arranging the fresh croissants and strawberry scones onto ceramic platters.
"Are we playing the acoustic playlist or the indie-pop one today?" Yunho called out over the hiss of the steam. He was already swaying on his feet, dancing to a rhythm only he could hear.
"Acoustic," Jeongin replied, adjusting a crooked tray of muffins. "It's a Tuesday morning, Yunho. Give the people a chance to wake up gently."
"Acoustic it is." Yunho tapped a few buttons on his phone, and a soft, finger-picked guitar melody began drifting from the ceiling speakers. He stepped up next to Jeongin, peering down at the pastry case with his hands on his hips. "Looks perfect. You're too neat, you know that? It's intimidating."
Jeongin stood up, brushing a stray crumb off his apron, a small, dimpled smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's called a presentation."
Yunho laughed, slinging a massive arm around Jeongin's shoulders and shaking him gently. "Yeah, yeah. Go flip the sign. It's 6:59."
The first thirty minutes of opening were always the quietest, marked only by the steady rhythm of the espresso machine and the soft acoustic guitar playing from the speakers. Then, right around 7:30, the true heartbeat of the neighborhood began to walk through the door.
The bell chimed, and a gust of cool morning air swept in along with Mrs. Kang. She was an elderly woman who lived two blocks away, her small frame bundled tightly in a knitted purple cardigan.
"Good morning, Halmeoni," Jeongin greeted her instantly. His voice dropped to a softer, warmer register, and his face broke into that familiar, dimpled smile that made him look like a proud grandson.
He didn't wait for her to walk all the way to the counter. Knowing her knees troubled her on damp mornings, Jeongin quickly stepped out from behind the register, meeting her halfway in the seating area. He gently took her reusable shopping bag to hold it for her. "You're early today. Is the morning air too cold?"
"A little chilly, sweet boy," Mrs. Kang smiled, her wrinkled eyes crinkling. "But I wanted to get my walk in before the sun gets too hot."
"Sit right here by the window, the heater is running underneath," Jeongin said, pulling out a chair for her.
He didn’t ask for her order. He already knew it by heart. Two minutes later, he returned to her table carrying a small tray. Instead of a standard porcelain mug, he brought her a lightweight, insulated thermos cup that was easier for her arthritic hands to grip. Inside was a lukewarm grain latte steamed milk mixed with roasted multi-grain powder made exactly how she liked it so it wouldn't upset her stomach. Next to it sat a single, soft red bean bun.
"On the house today, Halmeoni. The bakery sent an extra one by mistake," Jeongin lied smoothly, offering a sheepish grin. In reality, he had paid for it out of his own tip jar.
"You always spoil me," she patted his hand, her face glowing.
Behind the counter, Yunho watched the exchange while wiping down the steam wand, a fond, knowing smile on his face. As Jeongin walked back behind the bar, Yunho nudged his shoulder. "An extra bun by mistake, huh? Your accounting skills are terrible, Yang Jeongin."
"Shut up," Jeongin muttered, though his cheeks flushed slightly. "She reminds me of my grandmother."
Before Yunho could tease him further, the door chimed again, much louder this time. A young woman stumbled in, balancing a heavy laptop bag, a thick textbook, and a drooping umbrella. It was Minah, a university student who practically lived in the cafe during midterm season. She looked entirely sleep-deprived, her hair tied in a messy, frantic bun.
Jeongin’s caretaking style shifted instantly from gentle reverence to efficient rescue mission.
"Rough night?" Jeongin asked, already reaching for a large takeaway cup.
"I think my brain is melting," Minah groaned, dropping her heavy bag onto the counter with a thud. "I have an exam in forty minutes. I need a triple shot Americano, iced, or I won't survive the syllabus."
‘’No Americano," Jeongin said firmly but kindly, shaking his head.
Minah blinked, looking betrayed. "What? Why?"
"Because you've come in three days this week, and every time you drink a triple shot on an empty stomach, you get a migraine by noon," Jeongin explained calmly. He was already pulling a shot of espresso, but his hands moved toward a different syrup bottle. "I’m making you a honey-vanilla oat latte. It has two shots so you stay awake, but the oat milk will be easier on your stomach, and the honey will help your throat since you've been coughing."
Minah stared at him for a second, her shoulders dropping as the tension left her body. A exhausted, grateful laugh escaped her lips. "Fine. You're the boss. Thank you, Jeongin-ah."
As Yunho handed her a fresh, warm chocolate croissant wrapped in tissue paper "To fuel the brain cells," Yunho added with a bright wink. Jeongin pulled out a black marker. On the side of Minah's plastic cup, right next to the sleeve, he drew a small, clumsy sketch of a smiling fox holding a tiny "Good Luck!" sign.
When he handed the drink over, Minah noticed the drawing and let out a genuine, happy smile, the exhaustion vanishing from her face for a brief moment. "I'm going to ace this test just for the fox."
"Go get 'em," Jeongin cheered quietly, waving her out the door.
As the bell chimed shut behind her, the cafe fell back into a temporary lull. Jeongin breathed out a soft sigh, resting his hands on the marble counter, his heart feeling full and grounded. This was his favorite part of the job, not just making the coffee, but being the quiet, steady anchor in the chaotic mornings of the people around him.
The morning rush eventually settled into something quieter. The espresso machine still hissed, cups still clinked against ceramic, but the frantic rhythm had softened into something familiar.
Jeongin liked this part. The moment between chaos and silence
The bell rings, as usual when someone enters. Yunho yells a warm welcome, even when their manager told him explicitly to stop yelling and just greet them like a normal person. Not like Yunho would start ever doing that.
The afternoon light shifted, casting long, amber blocks across the worn floorboards of the cafe. The frantic energy of the morning rush had evaporated, replaced by a heavy, peaceful stillness. A few customers remained scattered at the corner tables, their low murmurs blending with the soft acoustic guitar playing from the speakers.
Jeongin ran a damp cloth over the polished marble counter, his movements rhythmic and unhurried. He was humming a melody he couldn’t quite name, completely at peace with the quiet hours.
"You know," Yunho’s voice broke the silence from behind him, accompanied by the dry clack of ceramic mugs being stacked onto the shelf. "You’ve basically adopted half this neighborhood, right?"
Jeongin paused, looking over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "What?"
"Mrs. Kang. Minah. The guy who always forgets his umbrella," Yunho counted them off on his fingers, leaning his frame against the espresso machine. "Oh, and that business student who sits in the corner and cries over accounting every Thursday."
"He doesn't cry," Jeongin defended mildly, turning back to his wiping. "He just gets emotional."
Yunho stared at the back of Jeongin’s head, entirely unamused. "Jeongin-ah, that is literally the exact same thing."
Jeongin ignored him, meticulously organizing the sugar caddies instead. He could hear Yunho huff a quiet, fond laugh behind him.
"You're a weird kid, you know that?" Yunho said softly.
"That's not exactly new information."
"No, but I mean it in a good way."
Jeongin kept his eyes glued to the counter, pretending to find a stubborn smudge of coffee ground incredibly fascinating. Compliments had always made his chest tighten with a strange, awkward heat. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them; he just never knew where to put his hands or what face to make when people said nice things to him.
Fortunately, the sharp ping of the bell above the entrance cut through the tension. Jeongin’s attention snapped to the door, his posture instantly straightening.
A familiar figure stepped inside, shivering slightly as he pulled down the collar of his coat. Before Jeongin could think to filter himself, a small smile tugged at his lips. "Caramel latte guy."
Hyunjin froze halfway through slipping his arms out of his heavy jacket. He blinked, his dark eyes fixing on Jeongin behind the bar. "You know my name."
"I do," Jeongin countered smoothly.
"Then why do you keep calling me that?"
Jeongin reached back, grabbing a clean paper cup from the stack Yunho had just finished organizing. "Because you react every single time."
Hyunjin narrowed his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward as he walked toward the register. "That feels highly intentional."
"It is."
A breathless, quiet laugh escaped Hyunjin’s lips. He leaned against the counter, resting his chin in his hand. "I'll have the same as usual, please."
Jeongin raised both eyebrows, a playful glint in his eyes. "So you've finally learned how ordering works."
"Don't ruin the moment," Hyunjin muttered, though there was no real bite to it.
Jeongin laughed quietly, turning around to grind the espresso beans. There was an effortless quality to talking with Hyunjin that Jeongin hadn't quite figured out yet. Usually, when dealing with new people, Jeongin felt an underlying pressure to keep the gears turning. He felt responsible for filling the empty spaces, asking polite questions, and making sure the other person wasn't drowning in awkwardness.
But with Hyunjin, the quiet didn't feel like a problem that needed fixing. It just sat between them, comfortable and warm, like a heavy blanket.
When the espresso machine finished its low hiss, Jeongin handed the steaming cup over. Hyunjin took it, his fingers brushing against Jeongin's for a fleeting second, before he glanced out toward the sunlit windows.
"Do you work here a lot?" Hyunjin asked, taking a slow sip.
"Most days."
"Don't you get tired?"
Jeongin shrugged, leaning his elbows on the counter. "Sometimes."
"Then why keep doing it?"
The question wasn't judgmental; it was genuinely curious. Jeongin let his gaze drift across the small room. He looked at the wooden tables where people had left behind scribbled napkins and dog-eared books, at the corner seat where Mrs. Kang’s purple cardigan usually rested, and at the counter where regulars leaned to tell him about their lives.
"I like knowing people have somewhere to go," Jeongin said quietly. The words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to second-guess them.
Hyunjin didn't answer right away. He just looked at Jeongin, not in a strange or searching way, but with a quiet intensity, as if he were memorizing the answer. Then, a small, soft smile broke across his face.
"That's a very you answer."
Jeongin blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "What does that even mean?"
"I don't know," Hyunjin murmured, pulling his gaze away and taking another sip of his coffee as he began walking toward his usual table. "But it makes sense."
Jeongin watched him go, the phrase echoing quietly in his mind long after Hyunjin had sat down.
Later that evening, the cozy aroma of coffee was replaced by the smell of delivery pizza and old carpet. Jeongin was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Changbin’s living room, completely surrounded by a chaotic sea of open textbooks, glowing laptops, and friends who were technically supposed to be studying.
Keyword: technically.
"I hate this," Jisung announced to the ceiling, dramatically dropping his forehead flat against the low coffee table with a dull thud.
"You've been studying for exactly twenty minutes," Chan pointed out without looking up from his laptop, his fingers typing away at an essay.
"Exactly," Jisung groaned, his voice muffled by the wood.
"That is not a long time, Jisung-ah."
"It felt like three hours in a sensory deprivation tank."
Changbin looked over from the kitchen counter, tossing a crumpled napkin at Jisung’s head. "You're pathetic."
"I'm suffering!"
"You say that literally every single time we meet up."
"Because every single time, I suffer!"
Jeongin let out a quiet laugh from his spot on the floor, leaning his back against the base of the couch. This was exactly why he loved these nights. Nobody was trying too hard to impress anyone else. Nobody was pretending to have their lives completely figured out. They were just a bunch of exhausted students trying to survive another semester together.
Hyunjin was sitting right beside him, his long legs stretched out under the table. His sketchbook was flipped open next to his laptop, a charcoal pencil held loosely in his fingers.
Jeongin leaned in slightly, peering over his shoulder. "Are you actually studying?"
Hyunjin didn't look up, his hand moving in small, precise arcs across the paper. "Yes."
Jeongin’s eyes dropped to the page. There was no math formula or history timeline. Instead, a highly detailed, beautifully shaded drawing of a ceramic coffee cup occupied the center of the sheet.
"That doesn't look like math," Jeongin noted dryly.
"It helps me focus."
"How?"
"It doesn't."
Jeongin let out a sudden, bright laugh, the sound drawing a brief glance from Chan. "Then why do it?"
Hyunjin finally paused his pencil, tilting his head to look at Jeongin. His dark hair fell slightly over his eyes. "I just like drawing."
The answer was simple. Almost too simple. But as Jeongin looked at the lines on the page, he found that he understood it completely.
A few hours drifted by, and the room reached that collective, dangerous threshold where studying completely ceased to be productive. Brains were fried, and the night dissolved into a loud, disorganized group complaint session.
Suddenly, Jisung sat up straight, his eyes wide as if a lightbulb had exploded in his head. "Wait."
Everyone collectively ignored him.
"Hey, I said wait!" Jisung snapped, throwing a stray eraser at Changbin. He pointed a finger across the table at Hyunjin. "Didn't some girl give you her number at the cafe yesterday?"
The sudden shift in topic caused the room to fall completely quiet.
Hyunjin slowly lifted his head, his expression instantly flattening into one of deep regret. "Why do you remember things like that?"
"Because your love life is infinitely more interesting than macroeconomics," Jisung grinned.
"It's really not."
"It is to me."
Changbin leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Wait, someone actually managed to approach you without getting intimidated? Did you actually get asked out?"
Hyunjin let out a long, heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can we please not make this a thing?"
"No," Jisung said instantly.
"Absolutely not," Felix chimed in from the corner, a massive, mischievous grin breaking across his face. "You never told us about this."
"There wasn't anything to tell," Hyunjin muttered, looking thoroughly exhausted by his friends.
Jeongin watched the back-and-forth, a strange, quiet curiosity bubbling up in his chest. Before he could stop himself, the question slipped out naturally. "Did you text her?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the ambient noise in the room seemed to drop by half a second. Jeongin blinked, suddenly realizing that Jisung and Changbin were both staring directly at him.
"What?" Jeongin asked, defensively pulling his knees closer to his chest.
Jisung’s grin widened into something entirely unbearable. "Nothing."
"Why are you smiling like that? Stop it."
"I'm not doing anything, Jeongin-ah."
"You are."
Hyunjin looked down at his sketchbook, a tiny, amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I didn't text her," he said softly, his voice cutting through the teasing before it could escalate.
Jeongin looked back over at him. "Why?"
Hyunjin shrugged, his shoulders shifting under his oversized sweater. "I don't know. I guess I just wasn't interested."
Jeongin nodded slowly. It made sense. For some inexplicable reason, deep down, he had already known that would be the answer. "Then that's probably better."
Hyunjin tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto Jeongin’s. "Better?"
"Yeah," Jeongin said, his voice dropping into that quiet, earnest tone he usually reserved for the cafe. "If you weren't interested, it would've been unfair to lead her on. It's nicer to just leave it."
The room went entirely quiet again, but this time it felt different. Changbin stared at Jeongin, a look of profound bewilderment on his face. "Since when are you giving out relationship advice?"
Jeongin frowned, feeling a sudden wave of heat rush up his neck. "I'm not."
"You kind of are," Felix giggled.
"I just said one logical thing!"
Jisung leaned back in his chair, folding his arms with a dramatic sigh. "The fact that it's logical makes it so much worse coming from the kid."
Jeongin rolled his eyes, but a small smile broke through his annoyance. The conversation inevitably moved on a few minutes later, fracturing back into complaints about professors and upcoming deadlines as everyone returned to their screens.
The apartment slowly emptied as the night grew later. One by one, everyone started gathering their things, complaining about unfinished assignments and how early they had to wake up the next morning.
"I still think we learned nothing," Jisung announced while pulling on his shoes.
"You learned that you need to start studying earlier," Chan replied.
"That's not a lesson. That's an attack."
"It's both."
Changbin laughed as he pushed Jisung toward the door. "Go home before you start another argument."
"I wasn't arguing."
"You were."
"I was making a point."
"You were losing."
Their voices faded into the hallway, followed by Felix's laughter and Minho's quiet goodbye. Soon, the apartment that had been filled with noise was reduced to a comfortable silence. Jeongin stood up from the floor, stretching his legs after sitting for hours.
"Thanks for having me over," he said, grabbing his jacket.
"Anytime," Changbin replied. "Even though you barely complained. It's weird."
"I can start if you want."
"No, actually, keep being normal."
Jeongin rolled his eyes, smiling as he slipped his shoes on. He was halfway out the door when a voice stopped him.
"Jeongin."
He turned around. Hyunjin was standing near the couch, holding something in his hand.
"You forgot this."
Jeongin looked down. It was his phone charger. For a moment, he just stared at it. "Oh." He walked back over, taking it from Hyunjin. "Thanks."
Hyunjin shrugged. "You left it next to your notebook."
Jeongin looked at him, his dark eyes wide under his bangs. "You noticed?" The question came out before he could think to filter it.
Hyunjin seemed slightly confused by the sudden intensity of the question. "Yeah." There was no hesitation in his voice, no elaborate reason behind it. Just a simple, direct truth.
Jeongin looked down at the plastic charger in his hand, a small, involuntary smile appearing despite himself. "Right."
Hyunjin tilted his head, watching the way Jeongin's eyes softened. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You asked if I noticed."
"And you did."
"Is that surprising?"
Jeongin opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. Because usually, in every corner of his life, he was the one who noticed. He noticed when someone's drink order changed from hot to iced. He noticed when a regular customer was quieter than usual. He noticed when a friend smiled just a little less than they normally did, and he always knew how to step in to fix it. But he wasn't used to people noticing him back.
"It's just..." Jeongin started, then shook his head, pulling his jacket tighter around his chest. "Never mind."
Hyunjin studied him for a silent second, his gaze lingering, but thankfully he didn't push. "Get home safely."
Jeongin nodded, stepping back into the entryway. "You too."
He stepped outside, the cold night air immediately brushing against his flushed face. The heavy apartment door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Hyunjin's words lingering in the concrete hallway much longer than they probably should have.
You forgot this.
It was such a small thing. Almost completely meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Yet, as Jeongin walked down the quiet sidewalk under the amber glow of the streetlights, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he found himself smiling. He noticed when the faint shadows under Hyunjin's eyes meant he was working too hard. He noticed the subtle shift in Hyunjin's posture when he was pretending not to care about something. He had thought he was the only one paying attention. But as he kicked a stray pebble down the pavement and watched it skitter into the darkness, the realization settled warmly in his chest. For some reason, Jeongin found himself smiling the entire walk home.
For the first time in almost a week, sunlight spilled across the campus walkways, catching on puddles that still hadn't dried from Tuesday's storm. Students hurried between lectures with coffee cups in hand, backpacks bouncing against their shoulders, conversations blending into a constant hum.
Hyunjin adjusted the strap of his portfolio and glanced at the time on his phone.
He had forty-five minutes before class.
Normally, he would've spent them in the library pretending to work while actually scrolling through his phone. Instead, his feet carried him down a familiar street before he'd really thought about where he was going.
"Welcome-" The voice stopped halfway through.
"...Caramel latte guy."
Hyunjin looked up, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You really don't know my name, do you?"
Jeongin leaned against the counter with a grin.
"I do."
"Then why?"
"'Caramel latte guy' is more fun."
Hyunjin sighed dramatically. "I regret introducing myself."
"No, you regret ordering caramel."
"I regret coming back."
"You say that," Jeongin replied, already reaching for a cup, "but you're here again."
Hyunjin looked at the menu for exactly half a second.
"I'll have the same thing."
Jeongin raised an eyebrow.
"So you can make decisions."
‘’Dont be stupid’’ he says after picking his drink up and sitting down at a table near the back of the cafe. It has a perfect view of the campus. Hyunjin finds it relaxing. Looking at all the people living their own lives, going around with friends or just in thought. Different expressions, one joyful, one almost sad, maybe lost in thought.
He settled into a table near the back of the café. It overlooked the campus through the wide front windows, and he always found himself drawn to it. Students hurried between buildings, laughed with friends, or wandered alone with their headphones in, each of them carrying on with a life he'd never known.
He slipped his sketchbook from his bag, something he always did when he found himself with too much time on his hands.
The familiar scent of coffee drifted through the air, mixing with the faint cedar and graphite of his pencil as it moved across the page. He started with the university library across the street, blocking in its sharp angles before letting his attention wander. Every now and then he'd glance out the window, searching for another detail he'd missed.
"Mind if I take a look?"
One shoulder. A few loose strands of hair framed her face, and she held herself with a hesitant kind of confidence, like she wasn't entirely sure whether she should have interrupted him.
"Sorry," she said with an awkward smile, her fingers tightening slightly around the strap of her bag. "I wasn't trying to interrupt. I just noticed you drawing."
The café continued around them, unaware of the small exchange happening by the window. Cups clinked against ceramic plates, quiet conversations blended into one another, and the soft hum of the espresso machine filled the spaces between their words.
"It's nothing special."
She looked down at the sketch again, her expression shifting from curiosity to genuine interest.
She laughed softly. "You're kidding, right?"
Hyunjin shrugged, slightly embarrassed by the compliment. He wasn't used to people seeing his unfinished work, especially when all he could see were the things he still wanted to fix.
"Are you an art student?"
The question caught him slightly off guard. He tilted his head.
"Illustration."
"I knew it."
"That obvious?"
She glanced toward his sketchbook, then back at him with a small smile.
"Either that, or you've been staring at the library for fifteen minutes."
Hyunjin laughed, a quiet sound that disappeared into the background noise of the café.
"Fair enough."
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The girl glanced toward the window, watching students pass by outside, then looked back at him. There was a brief silence between them, not uncomfortable, but filled with the uncertainty of two strangers deciding whether to keep talking.
The silence settled between them before she took a small breath.
"This is probably going to sound random..."
Hyunjin looked up, noticing the slight nervousness that crossed her expression.
"Would you maybe want to get coffee sometime?"
Hyunjin blinked. The question caught him more off guard than he expected. He hadn't been expecting anything beyond a simple comment about his drawing. His fingers rested against the edge of his sketchbook, unsure of what to do with the sudden shift in the conversation.
Before he could answer, she hurriedly pulled a pen from her bag.
"You don't have to answer now."
She scribbled something onto a napkin and slid it across the table.
The paper stopped just beside his pencil, a small contrast between something familiar and something unexpected.
"If you're interested... text me."
Hyunjin looked at the folded napkin, then back at her.
"...Thank you."
She smiled, seeming more relieved than disappointed.
"That's not a yes."
"No."
The honesty made her laugh softly. Instead of looking offended, she simply nodded, accepting the answer for what it was.
"See you around then."
She gave him one last smile before turning toward the entrance. The bell above the café door chimed, the same familiar sound that greeted every customer who walked in, but this time it marked someone's departure.
Hyunjin watched as she disappeared into the stream of students outside, sunlight catching briefly against the glass door before it closed behind her.
The café returned to its usual rhythm.
He looked down at the napkin resting beside his sketchbook, turning it over between his fingers for a moment. Then, carefully, he folded it and slipped it between the pages. Throwing it away immediately would've felt rude.
Before leaving, Hyunjin glanced toward the counter.
Jeongin was busy taking another customer's order, his expression focused as he listened carefully to whatever they were saying. For some reason, Hyunjin found himself waiting until Jeongin looked up.
He didn't.
_____________
The campus looked different after the rain.
Not dramatically. Nothing had really changed. The same buildings stood exactly where they always had, the same paths were crowded with students rushing between lectures, and the same conversations floated through the air.
But everything seemed a little brighter.
Hyunjin walked across campus with his portfolio tucked under his arm, his coffee already half-finished. He checked the room number on his phone before pushing open the lecture hall door.
Behavioral Economics. A class he had taken mostly because it fit his schedule and because his neglected GenEd requirements were beginning to catch up with him..
He wasn't even sure why he had expected it to be interesting. Numbers and graphs had never been his favorite things. Give him a blank canvas, and he could spend hours trying to figure out what belonged there. Give him a spreadsheet, and he immediately wanted to leave.
The lecture hall was already filling up when he stepped inside. Students were scattered across the rows, some talking quietly, others typing away on their laptops.
Hyunjin scanned the room, looking for an empty seat. Then he stopped.
A familiar face was sitting halfway up the stairs. At first, he thought he was mistaken.
"Hyunjin?" The voice confirmed it.
He blinked. "Chan?"
Chan looked just as surprised, his eyebrows raised slightly before a smile spread across his face. "What are you doing here?"
Hyunjin looked around the lecture hall. Taking a class."
Chan laughed. "Very insightful answer."
"You asked."
"I was expecting something more dramatic."
"Sorry to disappoint."
Chan moved his bag from the seat beside him. "Sit here."
Hyunjin hesitated for a second before taking the seat.
"I didn't know you took this class."
"That's because we never talk about academics."
"Fair."
Hyunjin placed his portfolio beside his chair, glancing at Chan's notes. They were already filled with neatly organized headings, highlighted sections, and notes written in a handwriting that looked suspiciously perfect.
Hyunjin looked at his own notebook. A few unfinished sentences. A coffee stain. A small doodle in the corner.
Chan noticed. "Don't tell me that's your actual lecture notes."
Hyunjin immediately closed the notebook. "It is."
Chan laughed."I respect the confidence."
"What does that mean?"
"It means if I wrote like that, I'd fail."
"You literally study finance."
"Exactly. My notes have to save me."
Hyunjin smiled. For someone who had only really seen Chan during group hangouts, it was strange seeing him here. Different.
More focused. More serious. The same person, just in another part of his life.
The professor entered before they could say much more, and the room slowly settled. For the next hour, Hyunjin tried his best to understand concepts that seemed determined to leave his brain immediately.
Something about decision-making. Something about human behavior. Something about why people didn't always act logically. Which, honestly, felt like something he already knew.
Halfway through the lecture, Chan leaned slightly toward him.
"Are you understanding this?" Hyunjin kept his eyes on the screen. "No."
Chan nodded. "Good."
Hyunjin glanced at him. "Good?"
"I thought I was the only one."
Hyunjin laughed quietly, quickly covering his mouth when a few people looked over. After class, they packed their things together. "I still can't believe you're taking Behavioral Economics," Chan said.
"Why?"
"Because you're an illustration major."
"And?" Chan shrugged. "I just can't imagine you willingly choosing a class with graphs."
"I didn't." Chan looked confused.
"It fit my schedule and I had to because of GenEd."
"That makes more sense."
Hyunjin rolled his eyes. "You're annoying."
"You say that like you're not friends with Jisung."
"That's different."
"How?"
"I don't know." Chan laughed. As they walked out of the lecture hall, the campus noise surrounded them again. Hyunjin didn't think much of the coincidence.
Jeongin’s shifts at the café are usually predictable, until one customer spends an absurd amount of time reading the menu. Somehow, “caramel latte guy” becomes a little harder to forget than anyone else.
On a morning with a fresh breeze, nothing is out of the ordinary for Jeongin. Customers coming and leaving.Some rude, some drenched in happiness.. Sometimes his thoughts drift and he messes up an order or two, covering it up with bright smiles and overly sweet goodbyes.
The bell above the door chimes once again, as always when someone walks in. Jeongin swears he sometimes hears it even when the cafe is empty.
He looks back from the counter and sees a familiar face. ‘’Nice to see you again, caramel latte guy.’’ Hyunjin lets out a small chuckle while walking over to the counter. ‘’Struck you so bad you remembered my order?’’ he asked playfully. ‘’Well currently you're the record holder for who stared at the menu the longest. Hard to forget that’’
“You guys actually keep track of that?” Hyunjin asks amused, ordering the same thing once again.
Jeongin turns around and starts making his drink.
“No not really, but it’s not everyday someone really reads the whole menu, with allergies included.”
Fresh espresso filled the space, warm and bitter, almost enough to drown out the smell of rain drifting in through the door. “It’ll be ready in a minute.”
“Thanks.” Hyunjin answers and pays with a slight tip, nothing special but still a kind gesture.
Latte warming his hands against the autumn air, Hyunjin is headed across campus to his Digital Illustration lecture.He hated Digital Illustration. Traditional painting came naturally to him, and hours spent in front of a canvas never left his eyes aching the way a laptop screen did. More so, it soothed and calmed him.Maybe he was just old-fashioned
Days pass, lectures dread long.
Three assignments sat unfinished in his backpack, all due by Friday. Until it’s actually Friday. Hyunjin finishes them all and finally doesn’t have anything much to study. Obviously, if he really wanted to, he could. After a week like this, who wouldn’t want to spend a day doing absolutely nothing?
He goes to his last class, meeting Jiisung on the way to their Interactive Media class.
“Oh hey Hyunjin !” Jisung greets him with an, as always, big grin on his face waving enthusiastically. Hyunjin smiled back.
Hyunjin sighs after they’d had their usual small talk. “I really don’t want to rot in that class. If I disappear halfway through class, tell everyone I died doing what I hated.”
“It’s only for an hour,” Jisung replies, chuckling. “We can go to mine after. Me and Changbin are inviting some people over, you wanna come?”He asks Hyunjin casually. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d go over. Even though they do live at the other end of the city, everytime Hyunjin came over he had a great time. Changbin and Jisung beefing over Mario cart, Chan not trying to get crumbles everywhere after eating chips and Minho laughing at how stupid he looks. He knows a few from them from classes, and some he just met at theirs. It’s fun, he should probably go.
“Yea sure. Maybe this class does have something to look forward to.” He says laughing.
‘’Don't read them all at once. Promise me you'll save them….’’
‘’That was the only promise I ever wanted you to break.
I wanted you to open them all the day I left.
I just couldn't bear the thought of saying goodbye all at once.
So I asked you to lose me slowly,
The way we had to lose our future’’
The envelope was thinner than he expected.
That was the first thing Hyunjin noticed.
After all these years ,after all letters Jeongin had left behind he thought the last one would feel heavier ,something that could carry the weight of every word he never got to say, every moment he wished he could have back
But it was just paper.
White, folded neatly, his name written in familiar handwriting
He already knew what it was.
He had known since the day Jeongin told him ‘’promise me you'll save the last one for when you're ready.’’
Because even now years later, he still wasn't ready.
Not when the ink looked exactly like it had back then.
Not when his fingers still remembered the warmth of Jeongin's hand.
Not when part of him still expected a message to appear on his phone telling him to stop being dramatic and eat dinner.
Hyunjin turned the envelope over.
On the back there were only five words this time.
‘’For when you miss me.’'
He laughed once. “Seriously?” Three years later, Jeongin could still make him cry. And he hated how quickly he started crying.
Because he did miss him
He misses Jeongin everyday.
Three years earlier, before the letters even existed, Hyunjin met Jeongin on a rainy tuesday
And somehow without either of them realizing it, that was the day everything began.
The bell above the cafe door chimes as someone stumbles inside, escaping the rain with a quiet sigh. The server barely looks up from wiping down the counter. ‘’Welcome in.’’
He wandered over to browse the menu, staring at it longer than anyone reasonably should.
He watched him for a moment before calling out. ‘’It's not a test, you know.’’ he got a confused glance in return. ‘’The menu.’’ ‘’oh.’’
‘’You've been looking at it for like three minutes.’’
‘’I don't want to order something bad’’
Behind the counter he just got a small laugh in return. ‘’ We've been open for five years, we would've gone out of business if everything tasted bad.’’ The stranger finally stepped up to the register. ‘’So what do you recommend?’’
‘’On what?’’
‘’Do you like coffee?’’ ‘’...I came into a cafe’’
‘’You'd be surprised.’’ The stranger laughed a little louder this time.
‘’Im Hyunjin by the way.’’
‘’Jeongin.’’
There was a brief silence before Jeongin tilted his head. ‘’So, Hyunjin..’’ ‘’Yea?’’
“Are you going to order something, or are we just going to keep talking until my manager thinks I'm slacking off?’’ Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck, laughing under his breath.‘’I'll get out of your way.’’
‘’Probably a good idea,’’ Jeongin replied, nodding toward the growing queue.
Hyunjin laughed under his breath before walking over to the window seat.
Jeongin reached for the next cup,but for some reason,he glanced toward the window once.
Hyunjin was already staring out at the rain.
debating if I should post this on my story ahhh I hate social life. Why am I anxious to literally post anythinggg. Might need to stop judging others bc I fear it’s bc I know they’ll do the same 💕
