P.J. (Hyunjin) Short Story Collection (Visual)

More perfect than a K-drama

The cafe was filled with the low murmur of conversation and the rich, cozy aroma of roasted espresso beans.

We barely snagged a small table tucked quietly near the huge floor-to-ceiling window, a perfect spot for spending a lazy afternoon.

Hyunjin, seated across from me, matched a white-collar shirt with a neat pinstripe vest, giving off an effortlessly polished vibe.

He pulled the cup closer and took up the iced drink, casually slipping a black straw between his lips.

He stared straight at me with intense, dark eyes, following my movements with a gaze that was soft yet frighteningly focused. My heart sank with a familiar thud at that look.

"Is it good?"

Watching him slowly take a sip of the drink, I rested my chin in both hands and asked.

"Yeah, it's good."

Setting the cup down, he murmured softly, a slow, playful smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

He didn’t slide the cup across the table for me to taste. Instead, he just kept the drink all to himself, staring straight into my eyes the whole time.

"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 together in perfect layers inside his cup.

"Just one sip? Huh? Please?"

Hyunjin let out a low, soft laugh. He looked completely thrilled by how easily he could tease me.

Instead of handing the cup to me, he leaned slightly across the small wooden table. Then he tipped the cup at an angle so the straw pointed straight toward my face.

"Fine,"

he whispered. His voice dropped into that uniquely soft, alluring tone that always left me flustered.

The corners of his eyes folded with an unexpected, warm little spark of mischief.

"But in return, I get to choose the dessert next time. Deal?"

"Deal,"

I said, smiling brightly as I leaned forward to take a long sip through his straw.

The strong espresso was perfect. But as I leaned back, I caught sight of him taking a sip of the warm vanilla latte we’d been sharing instead of the iced drink.

A single, perfectly round drop of milk foam—like something straight out of a textbook—sat stubbornly on his upper lip.

Hyunjin didn’t wipe it off. Instead, he just stayed there, looking at me with a completely, absurdly innocent expression, as if it had all been meticulously set up.

He blinked slowly, and with a tiny, cunning glint in his dark eyes, he casually leaned his face a little closer.

"Why?"

he asked softly, with an air of blatant pretending-not-to-know.

"Did I get something on my face?"

I instantly saw through his scheme and burst into breathless laughter in disbelief.

"Hyunjin, please tell me you’re not trying to do that famous Secret Garden foam-kiss cliché right now. In this crowded cafe. In broad daylight."

"I have no idea what you mean,"

he murmured low, even though the corner of his mouth was twitching as he struggled to drop the serious-actor mode.

He moved a step closer until there was barely a hand’s breadth between us, his gaze dropping to my lips before lifting back to my eyes as an alluring flirting smile spread across his face.

"If there really is something on my face... wouldn’t it make sense for you to wipe it off? That’s proper cafe etiquette, isn’t it?"

"You’re unbelievable,"

I snickered, 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 some dramatic, movie-like kiss, I reached for the small metal holder on the table and pulled out a paper napkin.

Then, with a rough but gentle motion, I pressed it directly against his lips and wiped the foam away in one swift move.

"Ah!"

Hyunjin yelped. He rubbed his nose and recoiled, his shoulders shaking violently with silent, brilliant laughter.

He looked at me with a deeply sulky expression, like he was dying of grievance. For all his crisp white-collar shirt and pinstripe vest, he looked completely scruffy.

"That’s not how it goes in the script."

"This is the real-life director’s cut."

I tossed the crumpled napkin onto the empty dessert plate and shot back playfully.

"Now go on and finish ordering the dessert you promised."

Hyunjin let out a long, theatrical 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 it,"

he muttered, shaking his head with the most pitiful expression in the world.

"It was a masterpiece-level setup, and it got ruined completely by a single napkin."

"Hurry up and go, Mr. Romeo,"

I laughed, waving him off.

"The cake display case is waiting for you."

Muttering something about his “unrecognized cinematic genius” under his breath, he rose from the chair with dramatic heaviness.

But what he came back with five minutes later was a huge slice of strawberry shortcake and two forks.

We spent the rest of the time sharing dessert sweetly, and the tense spark of flirting from earlier gradually melted away into easy, quiet laughter as we finished our drinks.

As the afternoon sun slowly tilted downward and cast long, golden childlike shadows over our table, Hyunjin nudged his empty cup aside.

He stood up first, smoothly slipping his smartphone into his pocket with a gentle motion and brushing off a small breadcrumb on his shirt.

When I gathered my bag and stood beside him, Hyunjin didn’t wait until we stepped out onto the crowded street.

Right there, at the threshold of the cafe, he reached down and, with effortless naturalness, slid his long fingers between mine.

His palm was warm, soft, and steady as he locked our fingers together and held my hand tightly.

The theatrical whining from earlier was gone without a trace, replaced by a look of affectionate, genuine satisfaction.

He adjusted his grip so our two hands fit together perfectly, with no gaps at all.

Then he looked down at me with calm warmth in his eyes, a gaze that shook my heart far more fiercely than any famous K-drama cliché ever could.

"Let’s go,"

he whispered. Pushing open the cafe door with his free shoulder, a sweet smile spread softly across his handsome face, meant for me alone.

And so he led me out into the warm afternoon air.

"Let’s take the long way home."