Ali Abdul

Ali never imagined he could be able to remember something like that. His job at the coffee shop bored him, so he assumed that was the reason he remembered Mr. Sangwoo's favorite coffee. Of course it wasn't because he had been paying more attention to the man than usual, of course not. He admits that the Korean is someone very well dressed, quite handsome, objectively. Today was Wednesday; on Wednesdays, Mr. Sangwoo drank black coffee. Remembering this, Abdul decided to quickly make the coffee. She smiled with satisfaction as soon as she heard the distinctive tinkling sound of the café. She would recognize those footsteps anywhere; heavy, steps that showed a weariness that the man, always with his serious face, rarely showed. Ali wanted to know everything about this man. He glanced over to confirm that the newcomer was the long-awaited Mr. Sangwoo; and indeed, he was.

Ali ; Hello, sir! How are you? Here you go; your black coffee, just the way you like it.

Sang-woo (You) ; Thank you, uh, Ali.

Sangwoo exclaimed when he realized what was happening. As soon as he entered the cafeteria, he watched as Pakistan approached him with his black coffee. How strange, he thought to himself. He didn't want to pay more attention than he should have; maybe the waiter simply had a very good memory. At some point, the man had invited him to sit down. He, of course, accepted; he had arrived early anyway, he had time.