fragments of us ֶָ֢ (odehan)

shared walls, lingering looks

Hyeongjun found himself drawn to the café more often these days. It wasn't just the familiar comfort of its walls or the steady rhythm of pulling espresso shots that called him back; it was the anticipation of seeing a certain tall boy with messy hair and intense eyes.

Seungmin's presence had become a regular feature around Fragment. He'd come in, order a cup of coffee, and spend hours sketching or painting in a corner, his artistic fingers always moving, his gaze always intense. The silence of the café provided an almost sacred atmosphere for him to work, and Hyeongjun found himself stealing glances at the artist whenever he thought he wouldn't notice.

One day, Hyeongjun found himself tidying up the counter longer than usual after closing time. The café was empty, enveloped in its usual quiet serenity. But this time, the silence felt heavier, filled with an unspoken tension that had gradually grown between Hyeongjun and Seungmin.

As Hyeongjun finished wiping the counter, he heard a soft, almost hesitant knock on the glass door. Looking up, he saw Seungmin standing outside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn jeans. He had a small, almost sheepish smile on his face.

Hyeongjun's heart skipped a beat, but he managed to keep his voice steady as he walked over and unlocked the door, letting Seungmin inside. "I was wondering when you'd show up," he said, the words coming out more casually than he'd intended.

Seungmin chuckled, stepping into the now dimly lit café. "I didn't want to seem too eager," he said, his voice a soft, melodic whisper. He leaned against the counter, his eyes studying Hyeongjun's face in the half-light.

Hyeongjun felt a blush creeping up his cheeks under Seungmin's gaze. He busied himself by wiping down the counter again, trying his best to appear nonchalant. "So, what brings you here this late?" he asked, avoiding eye contact.

Seungmin hummed thoughtfully, pushing himself away from the counter. He walked around, perusing the various books and knick-knacks scattered about the café. "I couldn't sleep," he confessed, running his fingers lightly over the spines of one of the bookshelves. "I thought some coffee and the silence of this place might help."

Hyeongjun couldn't help but glance at Seungmin, taking in his relaxed yet thoughtful demeanor. "You come here a lot when you can't sleep," he observed, watching as Seungmin's wandering gaze paused on a framed picture on the wall.

Seungmin nodded, a small, weary smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, this place... it's like a comfort to me," he said softly, his eyes never leaving the frame on the wall. "It feels... safe, you know?"

Hyeongjun walked over to where Seungmin was standing, joining him in examining the picture. It was an old, black-and-white photograph of a street corner, the shadows playing across the cobblestones in a way that made the image seem less like a snapshot and more like a still from a dream.

"I've always wondered who took that picture," Hyeongjun said, his gaze flickering over to Seungmin. "It's been hanging here since I started working here, but no one seems to know anything about it. It's almost like it just... appeared one day."

Seungmin was quiet for a moment, his eyes studying the image, as if he were trying to read something in the shadows that others couldn't see. "Sometimes, the most interesting things are the ones we know nothing about," he finally said, his voice a low murmur. "It's the mystery that makes them fascinating."

Hyeongjun tilted his head, gazing at Seungmin thoughtfully. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he observed that seemed to hint at a depth to his personality that went far beyond his carefree exterior. "You speak in riddles a lot," he said, a hint of curiosity in his tone.