The spring sky is heavy with low-laying clouds and slanted walls of rain. The air smells of cold water and damp pavement; it sends shivers through my body. A rumble of thunder echoes across the tall, brick buildings of downtown. The planted trees lining the streets shudder and shake their freshly budded branches.
I sit safely in the warmth of my car, double-checking the address on my phone. I glance out my rain-spotted window and look over the brick building in front of me.
It's a three-story building with curling black railings and warmly lit windows. The address of the building is written on a white plate reading 613. It doesn't look like a normal apartment building and has the same exterior design as the other downtown buildings with simple windows and a large door in the front.
This is it.
613 12th Street.
I take a steadying breath and allow my anxious thoughts to fade into the back of my mind. I place my hand on my racing heart and quietly breathe out my worries.
Once I become calm enough to become confident, I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn off my car. I open the door only to be greeted by a wave of wind and rain to the face. I squint through it and quickly exit my car. I shut the door with a quick bump of my hip and jog up to the building, trying to avoid the rain the best I can.
I reach the door and find the doorbell with ease. I press it and faintly hear the ring of their bell echo through their home.
Then I wait.
And wait.
Just when I started to doubt myself, the door opens wide and I am greeted by a familiar face.
It's Jimin.
I offer him a quick smile, pressing my arms into my sides to keep myself from shivering as the rain grows colder. "Hello--" I begin but he interrupts with an urgent tone.
"Oh! Come in! You must be freezing!" Jimin rushes and motions me to move quickly, "Sorry to keep you waiting! Come in, come in! You'll catch a cold out here."
I take a swift step inside and the intensity of the storm lifts off my shoulders when I cross the doorway. I glance around the small entryway and realize we are standing at the base of a staircase. At the bottom of the steps, lies a pile of dry and soaked shoes.
Jimin flashes me an apologetic smile as he gives me room to settle. "I ran down as fast as I could, I hope you weren't waiting long."
"Oh, no no it's good. I wasn't."
"Great." Jimin sighs with relief, tilting his hard to one side as he looks down at the ground. He adds, "We had no idea it would rain today. The weather said it was going to be clear."
"I noticed that too, I guess spring can be unpredictable."
"It sure can," Jimin agrees with a bob of his head. Then he looks up at me with a lovely smile, his eyes curving with a smile, "I am glad you could make it. You can take your shoes off here, then we will head upstairs."
"Alright," I reply, slipping my shoes off my feet. I set them neatly against the wall and sneak a glance up the stairs. "So all of you live here?"
Jimin begins climbing up the steps with his gaze still on me. "Yeah. We rented this building out since it was cheaper than finding a seven-bedroom apartment. It used to be an office building but we converted it into a home over the years. Everybody pooled their money into it. You'll see when you get up there."
With my curiosity aroused, I follow Jimin up the steps to the second floor. We come to another closed door. The sound of muffled laughter and music comes from behind the door with a flashing light shining through the crack underneath the door and through the keyhole.
Jimin flashes me an excited grin, "Welcome to our home!" Then he throws the door open with dramatic flair.
A large room lies behind the door with hardwood flooring and surprisingly high ceilings. The windows are covered with curtains and the only light source of the room comes from the main light and small spinning disco balls set throughout the living room. They cast their spotted, rainbow lights across the blank walls and create party energy for the room.
A set of couches are focused in the far corner of the room with a large flat-screen TV at the center of it. A mess of blankets are thrown over the couches with various throw-pillows tucked into the corners. Large brown bookshelves border the TV on both sides and begin to overflow with various books and worn-out magazines. A Bluetooth speaker sits on one of the shelves and pulsates with blue light as it blasts pop music.
On the other side of the room, I catch a glimpse of a kitchen hiding behind a jutting-out wall. Though I may not be able to see the kitchen entirely, the masterpieces being created within it are no mystery. The heavenly aroma of barbeque sauce and the sound of sizzling meat is evidence enough that the kitchen is in full use.
I notice another hallway leading away from the main room and I assume that is where the bedrooms are.
"She's here!" Jimin shouts with the full force of his lungs.
Within seconds, the occupants of the house appear from their various spots. Taehyung and Jungkook sit up from the couch, their heads peeking over the back with mirrored curious expressions. Jin pokes his head out from the kitchen doorway with a soft pink apron that reads, "Kiss the Cook" on the front. Namjoon jogs down the hallway with Hobi on his heels.
"Finley!" Hobi celebrates, dodging around Namjoon's broad figure, and rushes up to me. He takes my hands and holds them gently, "I am glad you could make it!"
He's holding my hands! I think excitedly to myself.
I return his excited smile and hold his hand a little tighter. "Yeah, of course!"
Jin leaves the kitchen and comes to greet me as well. "Welcome! I hope you came hungry, I've been in the kitchen all day." He throws a pointed look at the boys on the couch, "These punks eat quickly so you might need to fight them for it."
I chuckle at his comment and nod, "Got it. I'm ready to fight."
Hobi releases my hand and moves to Jin's side, throwing his arm around his shoulder. "We really love your food, hyung. It's no surprise that we never have leftovers."
With Jin's dark-toned eyes glittering with smug humor he says, "Ah you're giving me such a high e-steam, Hobi."
Jimin makes a strangled sound of death and stumbles away, "He couldn't even last five seconds, hyung," he whines to Namjoon with pleading eyes.
Jin bursts out laughing at his own joke which makes the joke sound funnier than it was. I can't fight my growing smile so I cover my mouth shyly.
Hobi laughs as well, either out of sympathy or because he believes it was funny. "Sometimes I think you became our cook just so you could make more cooking puns."
Jin grins playfully at him and lightly pushes Hobi's shoulder back. "Maybe I did," he muses.
In the corner of my eye, I watch Namjoon give Jimin a light hug before moving to join our semi-circle. "Hey Finley, I hope the rain didn't give you any trouble," Namjoon greets and bows his head to me.
I bow my head in return, "It didn't, no worries. Thank you for inviting me here."
"Company barbeques are an absolute must!" Hobi claims, standing up straighter as he announces it. "Besides, it's nice to have a party every once in a while."
"I agree."
I look over and find Yoongi standing in the kitchen doorway. His face is flushed red and his black plaid shirt is covered with a fresh layer of flour stains. He tilts his head to one side as he studies me, "Do you like spicy food?" he questions. "We are making sauce right now and I need to know how much non-spicy sauce I need to make."
"I like spicy food," I answer.
Yoongi nods, beginning to withdraw into the kitchen. "Okay."
"Hyung, how long before it's ready?" Hobi asks curiously.
"We still have about fifteen minutes. Grab her a drink in the meantime, alright, Hoba?" Yoongi gestures to me before returning to the kitchen without another word.
"Let's start with a tour of the house," Hobi corrects and turns to me with a warm expression. "Does anybody want to join us?"
Jin grabs Jimin by the sleeve and playfully tugs him towards the kitchen, "I need my helper," he teases, "are you going to help us with garlic, Jiminie?"
Jimin groans out loud, "Why do we need so much garlic? Are you trying to kill a vampire or what?"
From the couches, I can hear the sound of Taehyung and Jungkook giggling out of sight. I realize they must be hiding from Jin and his garlic chores. The thought of it brings an unexpected smile to my face.
Namjoon lifts his hand and begins to follow close behind Jin. "I can help too," he offers in a hopeful voice.
Jin spins on his heel and gives him a half-panicked but gentle expression, "Joon-ah, you're still banned from the kitchen."
Namjoon's face falls with disappointment before he scowls, "Why can't I? It's as if every time I pick up a knife, everybody acts like the world is suddenly ending," he complains. "And I am practicing more! I am better now."
Jin raises his brow, still holding Jimin hostage. "Because you with a knife never ends well for yourself or the food. But I guess you can help peel garlic with Jimin."
Jimin's eyes light up from their previous pouting. His plump lips spread into a smug smile as he quickly snatches Namjoon's arm and drags him close, "Yep, we're helping with garlic now."
Hobi laughs at them before looking at me again. "Let's go before we get recruited as well." He beckons me to follow him, "Let me show you around. Then we can get our drinks."
"Sounds good!"
Hobi leads me to the hallway and runs an absent hand through his fluffy brown hair. He casts me an apologetic look over his shoulder, "My hair hasn't been behaving today," he explains, pointing to his hair, "it looks a bit strange right now."
But I shake my head a few times. "No no, I think it looks good."
He looks so comfortable here, and his messy hair is driving me crazy.
Hobi is wearing a light olive green cargo jacket with a t-shirt underneath with a graphic design I can't see entirely. He is wearing a pair of light faded jeans that match the shade of my jeans. It takes a moment for me to realize we are somewhat matching without ever planning to.
As I pass the couch area, I notice Taehyung and Jungkook flicking blankets off of each other with grins on their faces. Jungkook's eyes are bright as he reaches over and yanks away Taehyung's blanket only to have his blanket stolen in return. Taehyung's laugh rumbles due to his low voice but the playfulness in his eyes is that of a child.
I follow Hobi down the hall and pause in front of one of the doors. He pushes it open and gestures to the bathroom, "This is the restroom," he begins only to pause. His eyes glaze momentarily before he laughs at himself, "Yeah, that's the restroom," he repeats humorously.
I peek into the restroom and notice it is freshly cleaned. There is a large mirror with a sink built into the counter beneath it. They have a bathtub and shower combination with a plastic curtain pushed back against the wall.
I nod, "Oo nice."
Hobi gestures to another closed door, "This is Namjoon's office. And that one is the storage room." He points across the hall to another door as he walks by.
We reach the end of the hall and come to another set of stairs leading up to the third floor. "Come on," he encourages, "I want to show you something. I was wondering if you have a lot of barista things at your home, like a station?"
I follow him up the steps and glance out the window as I pass by. It gives me a view of the other buildings surrounding this one with the rainy haze covering the horizon. "Sort of. Most of my supplies are at work. I do have a special cabinet for my espresso machine, my steamer, my cold-press... When I experiment, I prefer the cafe over my home."
I prefer the cafe over many things.
I add, "I also do a lot of baking. I probably love that as much as making drinks. I make most of the wedding cakes because of my piping skills."
"Oo that's cool," Hobi encourages as he rounds the last corner of the stairs. He waits for me at the top of it, "I'd love to try one of your cakes," he says eagerly.
"I'll call you next time I am experimenting," I promise with a wink.
Hobi's smile widens and a soft blush pinks his cheeks. "Awesome." Then he turns and opens the door behind him.
I lean over to peek around him and see another hallway leading into the building. "Is this where your bedrooms are?"
He nods. "Yeah. We converted all the offices into bedrooms," he explains.
"Ohh, Jimin was telling me about that earlier."
We walk together down the hallway and he pauses in front of one of the doors. He smiles shyly at me, "This is my room." He opens the door and walks in first before beckoning me to follow him. "I want to show you my corner."
My curiosity piqued, I walk into the room and the first thing I noticed was how neat and organized the room was. The theme of the room is defined and purposeful with black furniture and bursts of color. A shelf is built above his bed with figurines and souvenirs with backstories I don't know about yet. A window allows gray light to shine across his room in a daydream-like way. I notice his bed is made and there is a cluster of stuffed animals at the base of his pillows.
My heart flutters inside of my chest, realizing he too keeps a stuffed animal collection.
His room is filled with endearing details that send me into a dream-like euphoria. I notice he has a large chicken nugget pillow, a photo of his roommates at Disneyland on his desk, and a small acorn bag with complicated yarn designs on it. Then I see his "station" set up near the window, glittering in the gray lighting.
The bar cart is of sophisticated design with black edges with three glass shelves to hold the various liqueurs and glasses. There is a silver ice bucket, uniquely-shaped bottles of alcohol with crystal tops and shaded glass, and silver cups meant for shaking and mixing drinks. A small black booklet sits on the edge of it with a golden symbol engraved on the cover.
Hobi picks up the booklet and shows it to me, "This is my recipe book." He flips through the pages and stops on a specific page covered with handwritten notes. "This cart has my favorite drinks on it. I do most of my experimenting at the restaurant but during our breaks, I find it easier to be creative in my room than at the bar."
"If I had more equipment, I would probably do the same."
Hobi nods in understanding. "It took a while for me to gather enough for this," he gestures to the cart, "but it's worth it in the end."
I walk over to his side and look over the various drinks with genuine curiosity. "Do you drink often?" I ask.
"Sometimes. I know my limits," he laughs nervously, "I am not very fun when I'm drunk."
I raise an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"
He smiles awkwardly and clasps his hands together. "I am not as exciting, or fun. I am kind of a sad drunk. I guess I just zone out a lot."
"Ohh I understand." I laugh quietly and run my hand nervously through my hair, "I wish I were more boring when I'm drunk. Too exciting isn't that great."
"Being lightly buzzed is more fun," he summarizes with another smile. "It just feels comfortable. More open."
"I agree!"
Hobi looks over his cart and pulls out a beautifully shaped whiskey bottle. "How about that drink?" he asks hopefully, swishing the bottle. "Have you heard of Irish cream coffee?"
I nod earnestly, "Of course. I make it all the time at home. The non-alcoholic version, I mean."
"I make Irish drinks all the time at the bar, but I was hoping you could help me out with the coffee side," he explains as he pulls out two cups. "I know it has the whiskey and the Irish cream flavored whipped cream, but I never can get the right ratio for the coffee side."
"Ratios can be pretty tricky," I agree and come closer to his side. I glance at his recipe book and find the Irish Cream recipe. "Yeah, so you add iced coffee with brown sugar syrup and the whipped cream you mentioned. Sugar syrups can be tricky if you don't know the right temperatures, but luckily for you," I flash him a smile, "I'm an expert at that type of stuff."
He claps his hands together, "Yes!" he celebrates before refocusing on his book. "So what do you recommend?" He quickly crosses the room and grabs a pencil off his desk. "Do you know them off the top of your head?"
"What kind of barista would I be if I didn't?" I tease.
He giggles and nods quickly, "Ah true true." He sits down on his bed and lightly pats the spot beside him. "You can sit down if you'd like to."
It takes effort to fight my growing smile and try not to feel as if I were floating. I nod shyly and come to sit down at his side. "So about the ratios..."
We dive into a deep discussion about the proper coffee to alcohol ratios and as time went on, I started to feel as if the world around us no longer existed. It was just me and Hobi, in his bedroom, talking about our passions, and combining them.
I can't remember the last time I felt so happy with another person, with a man.
For the longest time, I doubted a relationship such as this was impossible. Yet as I sit there at his side, looking into his bright eyes and listening to the excited intonations of his voice, brushing my shoulder against his, I begin to realize what I had missing.
In my elated feeling, I begin to feel the quiet nudges of fear in the back of my mind.
What if he doesn't like me back? What if I am reading too much into this?
When those painful thoughts attempt to attack my happy feeling, I simply look into his eyes and those worries melt away like butter.
I won't let my thoughts ruin this moment. I will live in the present and treasure this precious memory. Moments such as this are often short and will fall through your fingers if you aren't careful. I should appreciate the time I have right now and just enjoy it.
So I do, and I don't regret it.
A/N: Surprise! Here is a double update! I felt like writing this today was perfect since it is currently Sunday, and we had a barbeque for lunch since it's Independence Day! I hope you enjoyed this longer, mostly fluffy chapter! I am seriously craving some fancy coffee right now! <3