Areum had always hated mornings like this—cold and quiet, where the chill seemed to seep into her bones no matter how many layers she wore. But today, it wasn't the weather that made her shiver. It was the lingering weight of Jeonghan's gaze from last night.

She pulled her coat tighter as she stepped out of her apartment, the Seoul skyline stretched out before her, hazy with the first light of dawn. Her breath puffed out in small clouds as she walked, the sound of her boots against the pavement filling the silence.

It wasn't far to the café she worked at part-time, a cozy little corner shop tucked away from the bustling main streets. Usually, the routine soothed her. She liked the early hours, the quiet hum of the espresso machine, the way the scent of coffee beans wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

But today, her thoughts were anything but quiet.

Jeonghan. His name echoed in her mind like a song she couldn't turn off.

She hated how vivid the memory of that kiss still was—the warmth of his lips, the softness of his touch, the way he had looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. She had spent weeks convincing herself it was a mistake, a fleeting moment born of too much proximity and not enough sense. But seeing him again, hearing his voice, had unraveled all her carefully constructed lies.

"Morning, Areum," her coworker Jihoon greeted as she stepped inside the café. He was already behind the counter, adjusting his apron.

"Morning," she replied, forcing a smile as she shrugged off her coat and grabbed her own apron.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You look like you didn't sleep."

She waved him off. "Just tired."

"Tired or overthinking?"

She shot him a glare, but he only smirked, turning his attention to the stack of cups beside him. Jihoon had a knack for reading people, and Areum hated how easily he could see through her.

The morning rush came and went, a blur of orders and polite smiles. By the time the café quieted down, Areum was almost grateful for the distraction. Almost.

And then the bell above the door chimed.

She didn't have to look up to know who it was. She felt it—an inexplicable shift in the air, a familiar warmth that made her pulse quicken.

"Morning," Jeonghan said, his voice soft and smooth, like a secret whispered in the dark.

Areum froze, her hands tightening around the coffee cup she was holding. Slowly, she looked up, her heart sinking as she met his ocean eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Jeonghan leaned against the counter, his smile lazy and effortless. "Getting coffee. Isn't that what people do in cafés?"

Her jaw tightened. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Not really." His smile widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I heard this place has the best coffee in the neighborhood. Thought I'd see if it's true."

Jihoon, standing a few feet away, coughed into his hand, clearly holding back a laugh. Areum shot him a withering glare before turning her attention back to Jeonghan.

"What do you want?" she asked, her tone clipped.

"You."

The word was so quiet, so casual, that it took her a moment to realize he had actually said it. Her eyes widened, heat flooding her cheeks as she stared at him in disbelief.

"Excuse me?" she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan's smile softened, the teasing edge in his expression fading. "I mean it, Areum. I can't stop thinking about you."

Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. "You need to stop," she said, forcing the words out even as her voice trembled. "This—whatever this is—it's not happening."

"Why not?" he asked, his tone gentle but insistent.

"Because it's complicated. Because you're Seungcheol's best friend. Because..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Just because."

Jeonghan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Areum, I know it's messy. I know your brother would kill me if he found out. But I can't ignore this. I don't want to ignore this."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her chest tightening with a mix of frustration and longing. "You don't get it, Jeonghan. This isn't some game. If Seungcheol finds out—"

"He doesn't have to," Jeonghan said, stepping closer. His voice was softer now, his gaze unwavering. "This can stay between us. Just you and me."

Areum shook her head, taking a step back. "It's not that simple."

"Maybe not," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But don't you think it's worth trying?"

Her heart ached at the sincerity in his words, at the hope in his eyes. For a moment, she wavered, caught between the fear of what could go wrong and the possibility of what could go right.

But then Jihoon cleared his throat loudly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Areum," he said, his tone casual but his gaze pointed. "We've got customers."

She turned, grateful for the distraction, and busied herself with taking the next order. By the time she looked up again, Jeonghan was gone.

But his words lingered, echoing in her mind long after the door had closed behind him.

"Just you and me."