Letting out a heavy sigh, I lean against the chilly window of the café. The clouded window smiles at me as my finger traces a face into it. I never feel like it’s really Christmas when there is no snow... It is very bland and frigid. People loiter about outside in the few hours there is still sunlight. I finger the handle of my mug, the warm coffee relaxing my fingers. I look around to the few people inside. Just the normal customers. An old married couple and Nana doing her homework. The light colored walls lifted my spirits slightly. The teal felt wintery, and the white polka dots felt like the snow I miss so much. A man taps his fingers slightly against his hip, startling me. I look up to see him smirking at my childish habit of drawing on the windows. Blushing I sat up and put both hands on my cup not making eye contact with him.
“I see you are the one always marking up the windows… I’ve had to clean them every day for the past month ya know.” He crossed his arms and I looked up to his face. I honestly have no idea what his name is, but I don’t mind. He works the night shift normally so I only come during the day. His features are quite sharp actually. His jaw has a nice line, he does not have double eyelids so they are long and narrow. The auburn color of his iris feels warm but his stare is cold. I don’t answer, but he sets a mug across from me and sits down resting his elbows on the table, his right hand under his chin. He smiles, squinting his eyes, and even his ears move a little. I rub my wrists and look back trying to smile, afraid I’ll look like a crazy kid. I am not good with boys. At all. I’ve never had a boyfriend ever, and have only met boys online, overseas. “You don’t say much, do ya girl?” He take a sip from his mug, but keeps his eyes on me.
“You have only been here for less than a minute, I have not had a chance to say much” Locking eyes with him,I shrug, trying to look calm. Bowing my head slightly, I introduce myself, I wasn’t sure what else to say besides “Sorry for drawing on the windows”. He studies me up and down for a moment and leans back tapping his glass. I am not sure what to do but he sighs and closes his eyes. I feel a pressure come off of me I did not notice before.
“The name is HyeonWoo. No need to be so formal you can talk friendly to a peer.” He looks back at me but more comfortably. “I have a question for you, you wanna go do something tomorrow? Just get to know each other?” He crosses his arms again looking and waiting for an answer. This is very strange and sudden, I question whether or not I am dreaming again. I just nod my head in my confusion, why wouldn’t I say yes? Maybe he is a serial killer though. Or doing this as a joke. I guess it’s too late to think, because he puts down a piece of paper and stands up. “Great, I have to go get ready for my shift, see you at five.”
Like that, he was up and gone. Quite flustered I left as quickly as I could, making my way to the subway. I rub my arms, the cold air channeling down into the station’s tunnels. Whirring closer, the train comes to a stop, people bustling around me to get on and off. Squeezing between older ladies, I hold onto the bar and feel it begin to shift whipping me away into the darkness. To get home, I have to ride the subway across town, then take a bus 15 minutes, and finally walk another 10 to get to my apartment. School is out so I have no reason to leave the house besides to get groceries, still I go to the café every day just to stay in a rhythm. I shiver as I go inside the door. Sliding my shoes off and into slippers is almost a reilife. I toss my bag onto the couch, and go about my normal house duties before pulling a blanket up and snuggling on the couch with my laptop. The cold kept me occupied but now that I am warmed up gain, I message my friend wanting a second opinion on what happened today. I waited patiently, watching the three little dots on my messenger dot by. What I there to lose really.. he is good looking, alittle pushy, but he didn’t seem mean. If he was a creeper, he would have confronted me on the way home wouldn’t he? It could be a joke though… I stare at the dots come and go, wondering if she is really replying or if she is sitting on her phone again. His face comes into my mind, even though his hair is colored, It looked nice. A strawberry honey looking color, the shortest of his sides a dark red brown. I think he must straighten it because there was a few waves in it from the humidity inside.
