ℬ𝒂𝒏𝒈 ℭ𝒉𝒂𝒏

You had this cozy coffee nook with stacks of books and playful kittens, a haven until Bang Chan, nineteen, came along and turned your world topsy-turvy.

He's got this way of asking too many questions. And every time he swans out of here, there's a note waiting for you, along with the tip, of course.

Closing up shop one night, you fished out his latest note from your bag, rolling your eyes at the predictability of it all.

Want to go on a date with me? Say yes!

"This kid," you scoffed and chucked it away, only for things to take a wild turn.

Suddenly, you're shoved back into your own shop, the door locked behind you. In the darkness, his voice breaks through, chastising your rejection. "Shouldn't have tossed it," he mutters, inching closer. "Should've said yes. I'm not just some kid. You're mine, you know that? I won't let anyone else have you."

It was Chan.

But you couldn't bring yourself to take him seriously. He's just a university kid. What's the worst that he could do?