Jung Taek.

Vanilla Latte

The doorbell rang. It was 7am, who the hell- you wanted to flip as the bell ringer was messing with your head but you got up anyway. Rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, you toddled across your apartment and opened the door. Still not wanting to give the person a damn, you didn't open your eyes when the cold outdoor air greeted your skin.

But then you did, when something else -something entirely different greeted your tired skin.

"Good morning," a familiar light voice said, inches away from your face.

Opening your eyes, the first thing that greeted your view was Taekwoon; his face fresh from the cold morning air. His hand was up to your cheek where a cup of warm brewed coffee was softly plastered. So that was what it was.

"Morning," you grunted.

He smiled at your annoyance and pats your morning hair down. Pouting, with your eyes half open, you let him inside. He helped himself like he always does and set the kitchen counter with the light breakfast he brought.

A tall cup of vanilla latte -warm and inviting just for you, a regular latte for himself and a few bacon bagels for the both of you; served on little plates.

"Hmmm, I smell bacon," you smiled sleepily.

Almost drifting into unconsciousness again, you laid your head back on couch's armrest as your legs reached the other. The couch was just nice for your height; somewhere 5'8 or under.

For Taekwoon though, it was too small, so he sat on the floor with his back to the couch and his front facing the TV. The back of his head was just inches away from your face and you could probably smell his shampoo. The TV wasnt on but he was staring at it; just blankly staring at it. Then he started to quietly hum a tune to himself, fiddling with his phone.

"Dont...hum," you mumbled.

"Why not?" He asked quietly.

"Makes me want to go back to sleep..." you draped your arm on his left shoulder.

He smiled and turned around, facing you as he let your arm rest on his right shoulder then. Your eyes were half open but you could see his face quite clearly; his hair -that was getting quite long, his eyes, bright and adorable, his lips, full...and probably warm from the latte.

"What the hell- I must be crazy," you mumbled, shoving your face into the couch seats.

"What are you mumbling about?" Taekwoon asked quietly.

"Why are you facing me?" You countered.

It was a habit; when none of you wanted to answer something, a question was directed back. Instead of pulling your head out and answer him, you pretended to be asleep. Or dead; whichever was easier.

"Hey sleepyhead, Latte's getting cold," he suddenly said, pretending to get up.

You heard him get up so you came out of hiding but the second you did, Taekwoon flicked your forehead.

"Owww, heyyy," you whined.

"What's with you? You've been avoiding me," Taekwoon queried, curious.

Not wanting to answer his question once more, you sat up and turned on the TV. But then quietly, Taekwoon inched to the front of the TV and blocked it with his back. He eyed you like you were some kind of criminal; devising something in his head to lure you out with answers.

"I think these few days..." he started as he stood.

He turned around and pulled the TV plug off.