The next day, when he opened the cafe door, I averted my gaze. I was pouring coffee as if nothing had happened, but my heart was racing on its own.
Jungkook paused in front of the counter, looked at me, and then said.
“Please give me another recommendation today, just like yesterday.”
“Just… eat what you normally eat.”
“Yesterday was good too. That’s because you chose it.”
At those words, my eyes widened, then quickly lowered my gaze to the cup. Jeongguk didn't press for an answer, but leisurely fiddled with his wristwatch. Each of his actions seemed to strangely stall the time.
In the end, I recommended an iced vanilla latte. He smiled and nodded.
“Give me that. I need something sweet today.”
While I prepared my vanilla latte, Jungkook leaned against the counter and waited. He always went straight to the window seat, so standing so close felt strange. My hands shook slightly as I poured ice into the cup.
“By any chance, do you remember me?”
He asked in a low voice.
“What do you mean… You’re just a guest to me. Sometimes I confuse you with other guests.”
I answered deliberately nonchalantly. Jungkook smiled briefly, then took the cup and said.
“I’m not confused. Not once, since the moment I saw you.”
He went to sit by the window, but his gaze often drifted toward the counter. I wanted to avoid that gaze, but strangely, my spine kept getting hotter.
—
As closing time approached, Jungkook reappeared at the counter, holding a small paper bag of brownies in his hand.
“Eat this.”
“The guest should eat it.”
“I originally bought it to give to you.”
I opened my mouth to refuse, but he added first.
“Do you remember what we ate on stage? After the show, in a back alley.
“You said while eating a brownie that it was the best thing in the world.”
At that moment, I couldn't say anything.
There was someone right in front of me who was holding that memory, that scene, more clearly than I was.
“Stop it.”
My voice was small, but firm.
“That kind of talk… is meaningless now.”
Jungkook looked at me with narrowed eyes.
And he spoke slowly but clearly.
“It’s just not for you. It’s still the same for me.”
He put the envelope down on the counter and left without saying anything.
The door closed, and the sound of the bell receding lingered in my ears for a long time.
I looked into the envelope.
One small, firm brownie.
With one bite, the temperature and smell of that time, along with his and my laughter, seemed to come rushing back.
So, I ended up not eating it.