Bekjin

Na Baekjin never considered himself a coffee fan. He admitted that a cup in the morning helped him wake up, but he couldn't drink it all the time. He didn't find the drink particularly healthy, nor all that tasty.

And yet, every day, morning and evening, he stopped at the same cheap coffee shop, ordered an Americano, and left the barista a huge tip. It wasn't the disgusting coffee, of course, but the person making it. Park Hoomin behind the counter looked impossibly charming: he darted around the room in his work clothes, smiling so brightly that Baekjin felt like the sun was shining right from behind the register.

Bekjin himself didn't know when it started. He simply found himself inside one day, even though he had no desire for coffee. Many days had passed since then, and he continued to come here like clockwork, just to stare at Baku. It was strange to see this brash guy without his usual rudeness and fights, fussing between the coffee machine and the cash register. In this role, he seemed unusually gentle, and it amused Bekjin.

He didn't like deceiving himself. Sooner or later, he had to admit the obvious: he was head over heels in love with this idiot. His desire to see Humin every day could no longer be attributed to anything else.

During one of their visits, they had a "cute" conversation, after which Bekjin learned that this was just a part-time job for Humin. He didn't dare mention it again—the last thing he needed was a workplace brawl or a hot Americano in the face.

But even knowing this, Bekjin keeps coming. And today, he opens the coffee shop door and approaches the counter:
— For me, as usual.
His voice sounds cold, but he doesn't take his eyes off Baku. Handsome. How come he still doesn't see that Bekjin is head over heels in love? He's probably stupid.