My spring day. [COMPLETED]

black hoodie.

̴̴ ̴ ̴ ̴Autumn ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴

He's back, you think.

He black hooded figure was hunched over his coffee as you walk into the café.

The sound of the wind chime ringing as the opening door knocks against it makes him briefly look up at you. A second of eye contact, and he looks down again, unbothered. Hm, rude much. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and keep walking inside. As you push open the saloon doors leading your way to the café's kitchen you already hear it. One café owner, very much pissed off; check.

"This is not your first warning, y/n. Don't make me fire you, you know how much I hate it," Ms. Goldberg said, dramatically patting off sweat beads off her forehead with her pink, laced handkerchief. "Do you, Ms. Goldberg? Do you?" you ask, except in your head than actually out loud because that road is one you cannot afford to take right now.

"I'm sorry Ms. Goldberg, I won't let you down".

The woman kept looking you up and down, a look of disappointment sprawled across her heavily painted face. And then with a sigh, she lets you leave.

As you walk out to take any waiting orders you see the hooded man looking away suddenly. Had he been eavesdropping? Not only is he extremely rude, is he a snob too? What does he want anyway?

You walk up to him, carried away with anger and embarrassment. "What?" you hiss. As he looks up in clear surprise you see his eyes up close for the first time. They were twice their normal size, no doubt. Right? Yeah, because he's shocked by your stupid ass hissing at him. Yet, something about them pulls you into a trance, and you can't get yourself to look away. "Oh, no that was it. I don't need anything more," he gets up, having misunderstood your question. A misunderstanding in your favor. He walks out in quick steps, not looking your way again.

It takes your loud boss to get you back into this world. You realize you've been holding your breath, and a heat was slowly rising up the back of your neck. Weird. As you pull out a cloth to wipe the table he had left, you spot a black wallet on the seat. You look out, but he was already out of sight. A group of teenagers walk in at the same time, making you put the wallet into your apron pocket, I'll have a look at it later.

̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴ ̴

It was the beginning of September, and the days were getting shorter and cooler. Bugs flowing close to the street lights cast shadows on the street as you take your usual route home. The shadows were much bigger than their true self. It was as if they were putting up a facade, almost like you; looking stronger than you actually are. Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted, by the memory of two big doe eyes.

The hooded guy came to the café almost every other week, not regular enough for the other staff to remember him, but just enough for you to notice. Oh that's right, you had his wallet. Stopping under a street light you pull the black leather pocket out. He's got to have a license, you think as you open it up. Bingo! Straining your eyes a little, you read the name on it.

Jeon Jungkook.