PJ (Hyunjin) short story collection

More perfect than a K-drama

The cafe was filled with the low murmur of conversation and the deep, cozy aroma of roasted espresso beans. We barely managed to claim a small table tucked near the big glass window — the perfect spot for spending a lazy afternoon.

Hyunjin, sitting across from me, wore a white-collar shirt paired with a crisp pinstriped vest, giving off an effortlessly polished vibe. He drew his cup closer and took up the iced drink, a black straw lightly between his lips. His dark, intense eyes looked straight at me, following my movements with a gaze that was both soft and chillingly focused. That look made my heart sink with familiar thumps.

"Good?" I asked, resting my chin on both hands as I watched him slowly take a sip of his drink.

"Yeah, it’s good." As he set the cup down, a slow, teasing smile curved his lips and he murmured softly. He didn’t even push the cup across the table for me to taste. Instead, he just kept staring straight into my eyes, deliberately hogging the drink all to himself. "But you picked the matcha latte, remember? You said you wanted to try something new today."

"Tch, but yours looks way tastier." I grumbled, glaring at the espresso and milk swirling into a perfect layer in his cup. "Just one sip? Hm? Please?"
Hyunjin let out a low, soft laugh. He looked completely delighted by how easily he could tease me. Instead of handing me the cup, he leaned slightly across the small wooden table. Then he tilted it so the straw pointed straight at my face.

"Fine," he whispered. His voice dropped with that signature soft, irresistible tone that always flustered me. The corners of his eyes folded with an unexpected warmth of mischief. "But in exchange, I get to choose the dessert next time. Deal?"

"Deal," I said with a bright smile, leaning forward to take a quick sip through his straw.

The rich espresso was perfect. But when I pulled back, I noticed him taking a sip of the warm vanilla latte we were sharing instead of the iced drink. Right above his upper lip sat a single, perfectly round dab of milk foam, so textbook-perfect it looked like it belonged in a textbook. Hyunjin didn’t wipe it away. Instead, he just sat there, staring at me with an utterly, almost suspiciously, perfectly composed innocent expression. He blinked slowly, a tiny, wicked glint flashing in his dark eyes as he leaned his face a little closer.

"Why?" he asked softly, with a completely fake innocent tone. "Did I get something on my face?"

I burst out laughing in breathless disbelief, instantly seeing through his scheme.

"Hyunjin, please tell me you’re not about to do that famous Secret Garden foam kiss cliché. In a crowded cafe. In broad daylight."

"I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about," he murmured, though the corner of his mouth was twitching as if it were fighting to drop the serious-actor mode. He leaned in one more step, closing the distance to less than a handspan, his gaze dropping to my lips before lifting back to my eyes as a seductive flirting smile spread fully across his face. "But if there really is something there... wouldn’t it be right for you to wipe it off? That’s proper cafe etiquette."

"You’re seriously impossible," I laughed, my face burning as I looked around to make sure the barista wasn’t watching us.

Instead of falling into his trap and leaning in for a dramatic, movie-like kiss, I reached for the small metal holder on the table, pulled out a paper napkin, and pressed it right against his lips with a rough but gentle hand, wiping the foam away in one swift motion.

"Ah!" Hyunjin cried out as if he’d been stabbed. He rubbed his nose and leaned back, his shoulders shaking hard with soundless, brilliant laughter. He looked at me with a deeply offended, sulky expression, as if he’d been wronged to death. For all his crisp white-collar shirt and pinstriped vest, he looked completely shabby. "That’s totally not how it goes in the script."

"This is the real-life director’s cut," I shot back playfully, tossing the crumpled napkin onto the empty dessert plate. "Now go order the dessert you promised, would you?"

Hyunjin let out a long, dramatic sigh and flopped back against the chair like some ill-fated lead who’d just been cruelly dumped in the rain.

"I can’t believe this," he muttered, shaking his head with the most pitiful expression in the world. "It was supposed to be a masterpiece-level scene, and it got completely ruined by a single napkin."

"Hurry up and go, Romeo," I said, laughing as I waved him off. "The cake display is waiting for you."

He got up from the chair in an exaggerated, heavy motion, muttering under his breath about his "unrecognized cinematic genius." But what he came back with five minutes later was a huge slice of strawberry shortcake and two forks. We spent the next hour sharing dessert sweetly, and the tense heat of the flirting at the start melted gently into comfortable, ordinary laughter as we finished our drinks.

As the afternoon sun slowly dipped lower and cast long, golden shadows over our table, Hyunjin slid his empty cup aside. He stood up first. With a gentle motion, he tucked his smartphone into his pocket and brushed off a tiny breadcrumb on his shirt.

When I grabbed my bag and stood up beside him, Hyunjin didn’t wait for us to take a step into the bustling street. Right there at the cafe threshold, he reached down and, as naturally as flowing water, slipped his long fingers between mine. Interlacing our fingers tightly and squeezing my hand, his palm was warm, soft, and steady. The theatrical grumbling from a moment ago was gone without a trace, replaced by a look that was affectionate and genuinely content. He adjusted his grip so our two hands fit together perfectly. Then he looked down at me with quiet warmth filling his eyes, a gaze that shook my heart far harder than any famous K-drama cliché ever could.

"Let’s go," he whispered. As he pushed open the cafe door with one shoulder, a sweet smile spread softly across his handsome face, meant for no one but me. And just like that, he led me out into the warm afternoon air. "Let’s take the long way back."