anti-biotics + burnt porridge
@krtaemin
"Three." Mark whispers to himself as he glare a hole through the calendar that was hanging in the staff room. His alone time with the anime-themed calendar was cut short by the farewells and goodnights of the employees, signaling that he too, should go home.
"Four.", he sighs as he locks the main door of the café the following night, as if to keep track of something. His employees are shouting his name from across the street, telling their employer to hurry up. Oh I promised I'd go drinking with them tonight, huh.He then runs towards them and went home at dawn.
Five, he thought to himself as he watch the employees cleaning up and getting ready to close the café. They left one by one, but Mark stayed for a while before locking up, as if whatever he was waiting for would come at 10 pm.
"I guess it's not too early to declare this the sixth", Mark launched himself on top of the counter, receiving a nudge from one of the employees "Boss, coffees and sweets go there, not your ass." and when Mark does not move, he continues. "What's with you and numbers anyways? You've been counting who knows what almost a week ago." Mark winces, he was unfocused the whole day, messing up orders and even shattering a glass. As a result, he's now loitering behind the counter as a request from his employees to stop being a liability. Before he could answer the question, the head barista held his waist and slides him sideways with enough force to keep him from blocking one of the drippers, while at it, they also answered for the surprised owner. "It’s probably because that guy stopped coming, you know, that regular who imprinted his ass already at that couch", he then points with his lips at the corner couch without lifting his gaze from the coffee he's making.
It took an hour and a half of discussions in between serving customers and cleaning tables, Mark finally gave in to the suggestion of calling the person in question, seeing that 1) Mark seems to notice his presence and the lack of it greatly and; 2) He has this person's mobile number. Grabbing his coat, he retreated outside and leaned against the café window. He then proceeds to scroll down his contacts till a familiar name appears, accompanied by a blurry contact picture. With a deep breath, he pressed call, waited what was like forever and once the line was finally alive, he spoke.
"Hello? Taemin?"
