Wonyoung came by again the next day.
Gaeul felt uneasy but she had no valid reason to tell Wonyoung to leave. She could have been fine with this if the younger woman didn’t try to keep talking to her, lingering by the counter as she ordered another black coffee.
But Gaeul remained the same, serving the coffee as always, responding politely but not letting her in. Unmoving, unaffected, emotionally unavailable.
Wonyoung stayed for two hours, said a soft, yet hesitant goodbye then left.
Gaeul didn’t say anything back.
She just went back to work.
It was probably nothing.
//
Wonyoung arrived again the next day.
She wore a lighter looking coat this time. Makeup was just right; her hair was down. She didn’t speak much, just ordered the same thing. Black coffee. Then she brought it to the table by the window, took the book she bought days ago and read it in silence.
Gaeul did her usual thing, cleaning, grinding, pouring, waiting. But not once did she try to stare at the table by the window.
Wonyoung stayed for two hours, said a soft goodbye to Gaeul then left.
Gaeul wasn’t able to say goodbye.
But she went back to work.
It was probably nothing.
//
Wonyoung wore a darker coat that afternoon.
She ordered the same thing.
Coffee. Black.
The same book was in her hands, Gaeul noticed the bookmark that was in the middle. Wonyoung took the coffee, said a soft thank you, then went straight to the table by the window, reading in silence once again.
Wonyoung stayed for another couple of hours, said her goodbye and left.
Gaeul refused to say anything.
She turned around and went back to work.
The weather was unpredictable. Sometimes it rained, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it made Gaeul feel more than she should.
It was probably nothing.
Gaeul wasn’t stupid.
It was on Wonyoung’s sixth visit where Gaeul stopped telling herself that it was nothing.
The bell chimed, heels against the wooden floors, quietly approaching the counter. Gaeul didn’t move from her spot, didn’t need to turn around and check.
“Coffee, black?” she asked instead, hand already reaching for a cup.
For a moment, she thought she was talking to a different person, or no one at all. There was a brief pause until—
“Yes, please.”
Gaeul knew she shouldn’t, but she still turned her head to glance at the counter. Wonyoung was standing by the same place by the counter, a sheepish look on her face, but solely looking at her.
That made her sigh, her mind going through several things at once, but she managed to stop it before she gave it a second thought.
Wonyoung was never good at pretending, and it was now obvious to Gaeul that she really was, and she couldn’t hide it anymore.
She turned to the machine again, grabbing the pot and pouring the coffee into the cup.
“You’re not asking me what I want to order anymore,” Wonyoung said after another pause.
Gaeul noticed the tone of her voice as she spoke. Wonyoung was probably trying to see if their conversations could go somewhere else. But Gaeul didn’t know what to do about it. If it were true.
“You ordered the same thing five days in a row,” Gaeul answered bluntly.
Silence.
“Right.”
Gaeul didn’t reply.
“I’ve been coming back here that many times?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She let out a weak laugh. “That’s embarrassing.”
Gaeul shrugged, placing the cup of coffee in front of Wonyoung, retracting her hand immediately. “It's fine.” She turned away. “People come and go. Some are the same, some are new.”
Wonyoung carefully took the cup of coffee, the steam wafting through the space between them. She glanced at her. “Do you remember them?”
For a moment, Gaeul took the risk and looked at Wonyoung, there was something in those brown eyes of hers, something she couldn’t find. A feeling she had before but suddenly felt like it was missing. “Sometimes,” she replied, muttering her response.
“Were you keeping track of my visits then?” Wonyoung asked, still careful and observing.
It didn’t sound like she was teasing or implying anything. It was like Wonyoung wanted to test the waters that separated the both of them.
Gaeul stared at her for a moment, wanting to react, but she chose not to. “I notice patterns.”
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