↝ are you sure you don't have any childhood grudge against sug-
shut the fuck up and just take the order, latte boy ↜
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| where min yoongi seems to prefer extra black americano, but the red-haired barista is de...
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author's note: this chapter is longer than the previous ones, promise.
The crisp morning air caresses Yoongi's blue locks over his forehead as he checks the time. Two minutes more until he walks to the cafe. Eight minutes until he dashes past the security checks and onto the subway. And if he is lucky enough, he might catch a glimpse of a mop of burgundy hair, chin tucked into the muffler,tapping his foot against the asphalt and waiting for the train to arrive.
He did not just go to the café for that eight-shots-morning-americano. Yoongi visited the counter daily, in hopes that someday he will know about it from his new boyfriend. And maybe realize dumping Yoongi's fragile heart is like getting a brand new stalker alert.
"The same order."
"Well, then here you go." The barista pulls out the Grande cup from under the counter and hands it to him.
"What di—"
"Since your order is the same every morning, I decided to make it ahead of your arrival. Have a good day, sir."
He isn't being cheeky today. Not one bit. Oh well, at least he didn't lag behind like always.
Yoongi presses the usual bill onto the marble counter-top, and strides outside. His lithe legs carry him down the block before his lips touch the rim of the cup...
Only to realize something is terribly wrong. His drink never smelt like that. Prying his fingers around the edge, Yoongi's face contorts in pure disgust as he watches the brown, frothy liquid swirl around in the white container.
Sugar is the one thing in this entire world he hated more than him. It is despicable, full of hyp—
And just like that, with the sickly, sweet steam puffing out on his face and his lips curving into his alluring smirk, the idea comes floating up to him and this time, he knows his past would not ignore.
