"Aish.. Of all the times you have to be closed!" You swore under your breath while outside your favorite coffee shop's closed entrance. Someone was mopping the floor inside, but you doubt they'll open up for you. You love the coffee in this place, but their unstable opening times are just ridiculous.
You gave one last look at the hanging "closed" sign on the shop's door and walked further down the street.
You're running late for your morning shift as a convenience store employee a couple blocks away, but couldn't start the day without your caffeine kick.
Are there any other shops around?
It's 30 minutes before you time in, but thinking that you'll be groggy for the rest of the day if you don't get coffee now, you took your phone out and looked for alternatives.
"Soul Cup.." You knit your eyebrows while you read the shop's name, but hurriedly followed the route in your GPS app. It wasn't your usual trek down to work, and since you don't know these parts (it's also been 2 years since you came back to Seoul from Chiba), you navigated the streets while holding your phone. A few minutes of awkward walking and..
It should be right here.
You looked to your right and your face lightened up at the sight of the red, gigantic coffee cup beside the store's entrance (cover photo). You went in, and now free from the cold environment outside, thanked whoever invented heaters and waited in line.
15 minutes before 9:00 AM. God, I love that smell. You thought as you get a whiff of the aroma of brewing coffee.
You were currently fifth from the counter and a girl immediately lined up next to you. You'll definitely be late at this rate but remembered, as one purple guy once said, "A small price to pay for salvation." You chuckled at the thought.
One employee was taking orders and another one was preparing coffee grounds in a French press.
Everyone's in a rush in the morning so why would anyone request a manual press at this time? What's wrong with coffee from a normal brewer? These darn hipsters.
As you tried to glare at the first person in line who probably requested it (you couldn't see though as they're being blocked by the other customers in front of you), you heard someone shout.
"Are you sure you don't want me to order for you?" said a middle-aged woman in glasses while looking at the girl behind you with concern. She's with two other girls at a coffee table a few meters away.
"Manager-eonni, let me do this just once please." The girl pouted her lips. Her red skirt matched the color of her red striped shirt, and her straight blonde hair that's parted to the side followed the sway of her body.
YOU ARE READING
No blood on my coffee please, thank you (M Reader x Twice)
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