𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄; boysnextdoor

drink or coffee ; leehan

Leehan's fingers trembled as he wiped the counter, watching Y/N push open the café door. The bell chimed faintly, almost inaudible over the quiet hum of the espresso machine. She stepped in, her scarf slightly undone, cheeks pink from the winter chill. Her presence always slowed time, or at least, that's how it felt to him.

He didn't know when it started—the urge to make her smile, the quiet satisfaction in learning her order by heart. She wasn't just a customer; she was the customer. The one he thought about during the slow hours, the one who turned his mundane shifts into something bearable.

"Good morning," Y/N said, her voice light, warm.

"Morning," Leehan replied, straightening the small name tag on his apron as if it mattered.

She ordered the same thing every day—a latte, no sugar, a little extra foam. He began making it without her even asking, but today, he had a plan. A cheesy plan, one he debated over for weeks.

Sliding her coffee cup under the machine, he glanced at the marker in his pocket. He pulled it out, popped the cap, and wrote, "Are you French? Because Eiffel for you."

It was ridiculous. Juvenile. But it was a start.

When he handed her the cup, their fingers brushed briefly—a second too short, a second he'd replay in his mind all night. Y/N smiled faintly, thanked him, and left. He watched her sit by the window, her usual spot, and take a sip. She paused, noticing the writing on her cup.

He pretended to clean tables nearby, stealing glances as she tilted her head, smiled, and bit her lip, probably stifling a laugh. That reaction alone made his heart race.

The next day, Leehan was ready. He spent an embarrassing amount of time searching for the perfect line. When Y/N walked in, he greeted her with a soft smile, his nerves hidden behind the calm mask he'd perfected.

Her coffee cup today read, "Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes."

This time, she laughed audibly, her fingers brushing over the words as she carried the cup to her seat. He caught her looking in his direction, her smile lingering like sunlight breaking through clouds.

His co-worker, Minjae, nudged him. "You're really doing this, huh?"

Leehan shrugged, hiding his grin. "It's working, isn't it?"

Day by day, the lines grew bolder.

"Do you believe in love at first sip, or should I make you another latte?"

"Are you a magician? Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears."

Y/N began looking forward to these notes, her anticipation evident in the way her eyes lit up as she accepted her coffee. She even started lingering at the counter, asking him how his day was, complimenting the latte art he carefully crafted for her.

"You've got a talent for this," she said one day, pointing to the foam heart he'd drawn.

"Just for you," he blurted before he could stop himself.

Her laughter was the best sound he'd heard all week.

One snowy afternoon, Leehan decided to push his luck further. He slipped a small note into the sleeve of her coffee cup. She found it after she'd sat down, unfolding the neatly folded paper.

"I must be a snowflake because I've fallen for you. Will you let me take you out for coffee? (Not here, obviously.) Check 'yes' or 'no' on the back."

She laughed so hard she startled the man sitting at the next table. Her cheeks flushed as she turned the note over. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled out a pen from her bag and scribbled something.

When she left, she handed him the note along with her empty cup. "See you tomorrow," she said, her tone playful.

As soon as she was out of sight, he unfolded the paper.

She'd checked yes.

Their first date wasn't at the café. Leehan took her to a cozy bookstore that also served coffee, a place tucked away from the busy streets. They spent hours browsing shelves, sipping warm drinks, and laughing about how terrible his pickup lines were.

"You're lucky I found them endearing," Y/N teased, nudging him.

"I'm lucky you didn't think I was a creep," he shot back, grinning.

The chemistry between them was effortless, like they'd known each other for years. By the time he walked her home, snow crunching softly under their feet, he couldn't believe how perfect the evening had been.

As they stood outside her building, Y/N turned to him, her expression softer than he'd ever seen it. "So, what's the line for tomorrow?"

He laughed, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "Guess you'll have to show up to find out."

"Bold of you to assume I'll still come by," she said, though her smirk betrayed her.

"I'll risk it."

Y/N leaned closer, her eyes meeting his. "For the record," she murmured, "the snowflake one was my favorite."

Leehan's heart skipped a beat as she stepped inside, leaving him standing there, grinning like an idiot in the cold.

The next morning, he wrote, "If kisses were snowflakes, I'd send you a blizzard."