Beyond the Horizon

Coffee and Curiosity

It had been three days since the exhibition, and Dunk couldn’t shake Joong from his thoughts. No matter how much he tried to focus on his sketches or bury himself in assignments, his mind kept drifting back to that warm, mischievous grin and the confidence Joong carried so effortlessly. The invitation to meet for coffee had felt bold—almost reckless—and Dunk found himself questioning if it had even happened.

But then, like he’d been summoned by Dunk’s thoughts, Joong appeared.

Dunk was sitting outside a small café near campus, lost in the half-finished sketch of an empty street lined with glowing streetlights. He almost didn’t notice Joong until he heard that unmistakable voice.

“Well, well, look who’s here early,” Joong teased, setting down his bag on the opposite chair and flashing Dunk that familiar, easy smile.

Dunk blinked, momentarily thrown off-guard. “I—uh, didn’t know we were meeting today,” he stammered, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He hadn’t expected Joong to find him here, of all places.

Joong shrugged, unfazed. “Well, it’s a small world. Besides, I figured you might be here. I told you I wanted to grab coffee and talk about your work, remember?” His tone was playful, but his gaze was steady, and Dunk couldn’t help but feel like he’d been pulled into Joong’s orbit once again.

Dunk nodded, clearing his throat and closing his sketchbook. “Right. I remember.”

“So,” Joong began, waving down the waiter, “what’s good here? I trust the artist with discerning taste knows his coffee.”

Dunk bit back a smile, surprised at how easily Joong made him laugh. “The iced Americano is pretty good,” he said almost shyly. “It’s what I usually get.”

Joong raised an eyebrow. “An Americano? Strong, bold, no nonsense. I should’ve guessed.” He grinned, ordering two iced Americanos, then turned his attention back to Dunk. “So, artist, tell me—how long have you been doing this?”

Dunk shrugged, looking down. “Since I was a kid, I guess. Art has always been a way for me to... express things. Sometimes it’s easier to draw than to talk.”

Joong nodded, his gaze softening. “I get that. Not with art, maybe, but I get it.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Do you ever feel like you’re trying to capture something that you can’t really explain?”

Dunk’s eyes met Joong’s, and for a moment, he felt understood in a way that was hard to describe. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “That’s exactly it.”

Their drinks arrived, and Joong took a sip, savoring the taste before nodding in approval. “Not bad,” he said, flashing Dunk a wink. “You have good taste.”

Dunk chuckled, feeling his nerves begin to settle. Joong’s energy was magnetic—effortlessly confident and somehow both calming and exciting at the same time. It wasn’t long before Dunk found himself talking more freely, sharing stories about his favorite artists and the inspirations behind his work.

“So, Dunk,” Joong said after a pause, “are you always this... reserved?”

Dunk hesitated, unsure of how to answer. “I don’t know. I guess… I just don’t open up easily.”

Joong nodded, leaning back with a thoughtful look. “Fair enough. But you seem different now than you did at the exhibition. A little more relaxed.” He smiled, and Dunk felt the warmth of it settle over him. “Maybe you just needed the right company.”

Dunk laughed, trying to mask the way his heart picked up speed at Joong’s words. “Or maybe you’re just persistent,” he teased back.

“Guilty as charged.” Joong chuckled, not denying it. “So, what do you do for fun, Mr. Serious Artist? Besides staring pensively at paintings and pondering life’s mysteries?”

Dunk considered the question, realizing with a pang that he didn’t have an answer. His life was a routine of classes, sketching, and solitary nights spent refining his art. "I guess I don’t really have a lot of ‘fun’ hobbies,” he admitted, a little embarrassed.

Joong looked at him thoughtfully, as though filing this information away. “Well, then. I guess it’s my job to introduce you to the world outside of paintbrushes and sketchbooks.”

Dunk raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “And what exactly does that entail?”

A mischievous glint flashed in Joong’s eyes. “Oh, you’ll see. Consider it a mystery. Just... be prepared to try something new.”

Dunk’s curiosity piqued, though a part of him hesitated at the thought of stepping outside his comfort zone. “Are you always this determined to drag people into your world?” he asked, half-joking.

Joong shrugged, grinning. “Only the ones who seem like they need it.”

Their conversation continued, and Dunk found himself laughing more than he had in a long time. Joong was full of stories—some ridiculous, some endearing, and each one revealing a bit more about the person behind that charming grin.

As they finished their coffee, Joong checked the time and stood up. “I’ve got a class soon, but... I’d like to see you again. Maybe we can keep this tradition going?”

Dunk’s heart skipped a beat. He nodded, managing a small smile. “I’d like that.”

“Perfect,” Joong said, his smile widening. “Then it’s a plan.”

As Joong turned to leave, he paused, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, and Dunk? Try not to be too mysterious next time. I’m starting to think you’re holding out on me.”

With that, he left, disappearing into the crowd, and Dunk sat there, his sketchbook forgotten, replaying their conversation in his mind. Joong was unlike anyone he’d ever met—vibrant, confident, and somehow able to break through Dunk’s walls with ease.
And for the first time in a long time, Dunk found himself wanting more.