You had been working at this coffee shop for a while as a part time job. Just something to get you out really. You knew the place well, it was a 10 minute walk away from your flat, and one of your friends worked there as well. Not too bad pay either. You had definitely been there long enough to know the regulars.
A group of high school girls gathered every Friday at 5:00 to get some homework out of the way, they always ordered the same thing so you always got it ready before they got there.
A man in his 30's who came to grab an espresso every morning before heading out to the office. Some extra stressful days, he asked for his drink extra strong. Whenever he ordered a double espresso you would reply with, "one of those days hu?" And he would nod with a weak smile.
There was also a woman in her late 20's who would bring a different client every month. She was a loud talker and a phone screamer. The type that shouts over dramatically down the phone at who ever was on the other end.
Then, there was a handsome man about your age -maybe slightly older- who came every Sunday afternoon. He would lean over the counter and ask what was the favourite that week. No matter what it was, he would order it. You can't remember when the habit arose but eventually it became a habit. Sometimes, you didn't even wait for him to ask before you told him what the favourite was while making it. Anything went with him. When he got his drink, he would sit at the same table by the window and near the counter. Sometimes he would play on his phone, sometimes he would listen to music, sometimes he would scribble something in a tatty old leather notebook, nodding his head occasionally or making strange hand gestures, sometimes he would just stare out of the window, others at you. You didn't mind. You stared back.
While you were making his drink, he would spark up conversation. Always about you. How your week had been? What you had planned? Hobbies? Family? Anything. Rarely mentioning himself. You would ask him about himself sometimes and he would reply shortly and sweetly, never sharing personal information such as his name or job. He knew yours of course. It was in your name tag. And he met you where you worked every Sunday.
One day, he was drinking his drink normally and you were cleaning the counter in front of you. The rest of the coffee shop was empty due to the lovely, hot, summer weather outside. He approached you confidently and said,
"Can you listen to something for me?"
"Urm... Sure?" You replied, taken aback.
He pulled the headphones out of his phone, put it on the counter, pulled out the same old notebook, and cleared his throat before pressing play on his phone.
A solid beat sounded from the speakers, filling the shop.
Without warning, he started rapping at a rapid pace, shocking you. His eyes were closed and he was clearly putting everything into what he was saying. The lyrics went in one ear and out of the other because you were too engrossed in him. His face, his voice, his stance, him. So much so, that without realising you had leant forwards to rest on you elbows with your hands cupping your face like a school girl.
You don't know how much time passed, but when he stopped rapping and the beat stopped, he looked at you waiting for your reaction. But, upon seeing you staring at him how you were, he just smirked.
"Wow." You breathed out. Then realising what you were doing, you jumped, blushed, and picked up your cloth quickly muttering, "sorry."
"What did you think?" He asked, still smirking.
"You're... You're..." You stumbled over the words, "amazing!"
He laughed a sweet, liquid laugh, "Thanks."
"Anytime." You grinned up at him.
"Hoseok." He extended a hand, finally giving you a proper greeting.
"Y/N." You replied, giving his hand a firm shake.
"I know," he flicked the badge on your chest and instantly his cheeks lit up red. "I... Uh... I'm sorry..." He scratched the back of his neck nervously, making you laugh.
"It's okay, Hoseok." You smiled at the taste of his name that somehow already felt familiar.
He smiled down at you, hand still on the back of his neck which you must say, showed off his arms and chest muscles in just the right way. Noticing your staring, he grinned showing his beautiful teeth.
The two of you stood there for a few moments, staring at each other, when his phone buzzed.
"Oh god..." His eyes lit up urgently and he scrambled around to get his notebook and phone. Quickly scribbling something down, tearing it out and handing it to you quickly. "I have to go! Call me!" He called, already half way out of the door, running.
Looking down at the note in confusion, it hit you what he said when you head the note. It had his phone number scribbled on it quickly and a few words underneath.
'You're the favourite every week.'
You laughed at the cheesy line and put the note into your back pocket. The grin didn't leave your face for the rest of the day
