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"Which is which?" I asked, squinting into the dark pan.

"Does it matter? Just eat."

I looked at Jongsuk as he poked his own spoon into what I thought was a slice of blueberry cheesecake, scooping out a huge bite. "You can't just jam them all together and make some hybird. We got six flavors. Each needs to be tasted individually."

"Su," he said. "It's 1:30 in the morning and we're sitting in the dark. Just drink."

I had a nickname now, something else I'd never experienced before. The numbers in that category just kept growing. And yet, I was clearly the same Suzy, compelled to add, "That man clearly takes his muffins seriously. The way he advised us you would have thought we were buying a car. Or life insurance."

"But we weren't. Here." The next thing I knew, his hand was up against my lips, and I smelled cinnamon. "This one is my favorite."

I took a bite. "Mmm."

This I remembered specifically,  because it was so good. Once inside the coffee shop, we discovered the owner,a guy in an EAT SLEEP and AGAIN shirt, was closing up. At the register, a dark-haired boy and his girlfriend, clearly regulars, were getting one last of caffeine to go.

"Anywhere else close by to eat at this hour?" Jongsuk asked them as they paid up.

The girl, wearing shorts and off-the-shoulder blouse, looked at the boy. "This place is okay, but they're closing up soon. But your best bet is to take some muffins and drinks to go."

"Please do," said the guy behind the counter. "I'll even give you a deal. Muffins is never good the second day."

Choosing has taken time with so many selections, all looking delicious, and the owner walking us through the particulars of each. In the end, we'd left with two large coffees, a basket full of every muffins. The muffins looked yummy. In the dark, though, it was all about taste.

"Omo." Jonsuk sat back, whistling, then pointed at the basket. "This one, on the right, is IT. Chocolate and creamy. And maybe almond?"

I reached across him, his half-eaten muffin. "Choco-mond. He said that one was his favorite."

Jongsuk helped himself with another bite of the cinnamon muffin, crumbs falling onto my arm. "Whoops. Sorry."

"Look at you," I chuckled, as he picked it up, stilling chewing. There was a spot of chocolate on his nose. "You're a mess."

"Try to catch this," he said, leaning back. I opened my mouth. He threw it and it hit my ear. "Bad throw. Sorry."

"Give me that," I said, taking the basket. I broke off a piece of a muffin, and he got his mouth opened. I started laughing before I threw it, sending it flying over his head.

He turned, watching it hit the sand. "Well, if you were aiming for the water, I'd call that close."

"I was," I said, and then he smiled at me and pulled me into a kiss. He tasted like chocolate, and as the wind blew us over, landing on the sand, I closed my eyes, thinking no, now I wanted to stay in this moment, forever.

This was weird, I knew, as I'd only met him a few hours ago. But with our walk, the dance, all the talking, and now muffin, Jongsuk was already someone I cherished. The way he squinted, before saying something he felt strongly. The slow way of his walk. The feeling of his class ring, cold and smooth, against my fingers when he took my hand. His ringtone, a pop song unexpected that the first time I'd heard it, I'd had to laugh.

We'd been sitting in the sand, sharing pictures on our phones. I showed him Gayeon, Eomma and Wooyoung, and the one picture of myself I actually liked, which had been taken on a balcony at a wedding the last spring. In turn, I got to see him with the guys he'd been friends with since childhood, posing shirtless, all of their hair wet , by a backyard swimming pool. Then his phone rang, the female singing.

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