Chapter 3 — Morning Quiet, Gentle Smiles

Taehyung’s POV

The rain had stopped, but the street was still wet, shining like glass.

I slipped into the café, brushing some hair out of my face, and… there he was. The boy from yesterday. The one with the hoodie and quiet eyes.

He was already in line, holding a paper cup sleeve like he wasn’t even aware of it.

When his gaze met mine, my lips automatically tugged into a smile—my big, wide, boxy one. I couldn’t help it. I was just glad to see him again.

He gave me a tiny nod. Not a smile exactly, more like… recognition.

It felt warmer than “hello.”

I went to my usual spot by the window, sketchbook on the table. I tried to concentrate, but my pencil kept making lines that looked suspiciously like his hoodie.

A minute later, a shadow fell over the table. I looked up.

He was standing there, holding his coffee, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should speak or run away.

“You… always sit here?” he asked, voice quiet.

I nodded. “Yeah. Good light.” Then, without thinking, I half-joked, “This seat’s lucky. You can take it sometime.”

His lips twitched like he almost smiled. “Maybe.”

I pushed the cookie plate toward him. “Want one? You look like a cookie person.”

That got me a real reaction—he blinked, then laughed softly like I’d said something strange but… nice. He sat down, slowly. “Just… one.”

We sat like that for a while. Not awkward, but not loud either.

He sipped his coffee. I doodled. Sometimes our eyes met, and I felt this odd little zap of recognition, like we knew something about each other without knowing names.

Then I ruined the quiet by dropping my pencil. It rolled off the table and hit the floor. We both bent down, and as our hands brushed, I looked up and found him looking right at me—closer than I expected.

For half a second, neither of us moved.

I laughed it off. “Thanks,” I said, taking the pencil back.

He nodded, but I caught something in his expression. Something curious. Like maybe… he wanted to ask me something, but wasn’t ready yet.

When he stood to leave, I called after him, “See you… sometime?”

He gave a tiny bow. “Yeah… sometime.”

I watched him walk out into the street, hoodie pulled up again. I didn’t even know his name, but somehow, seeing him made the day feel lighter.

The next time we meet, maybe I’ll ask his name. Or maybe I’ll just try to make him smile again—the real one he’s still keeping hidden.

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Author Note:

I’m juggling a lot of ideas right now—wondering whether to add this scene first or start with something else. It’s a bit confusing, to be honest!

I’d really appreciate Your thoughts and feedback. Your opinions will help me decide what parts to write next and how to make the story feel even better.

Thanks so much for reading and being part of this journey with me.

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