(This lazy-ass bitch decided to translate fics instead of finishing actual school assignments. And this won't be as good as the original work, so... bare with me through this mess, lol.)
***
One step, two steps.
At 3 p.m. sharp every afternoon, after his extra class at uni, Donghyuk arrives at Gyul. Donghyuk loves Gyul, because its owner is a very gorgeous man, and because accidentally, he has been enchanted with the bright golden sunflower trellis hanging in front of the door. The two reasons are all the same, maybe more, maybe a little less, but it doesn't matter. Most importantly though, he loves the sweet aroma of coffee that is brewed only by its very owner, maybe.
He is called Junhoe - his friends who came here once called him that. Strangely, Gyul only serves iced black coffee and latte, yet its name means "mandarin". It's ridiculous, really, Donghyuk exclaimed when he first found out about the shop in a small alley. Even when he inquisitively asked Junhoe about it, he simply said it was a secret, then jokingly laughed, pinching his ear.
Donghyuk loves to gaze at the flowers, watching Junhoe preparing coffees. He loves to have his seat by the window, leisurely sipping his latte, flipping through every page of his novel. Donghyuk loves Gyul, because the place offers a true sense of serenity. Gyul has a subdued color of wood, an austere simplicity of those sunflowers, completely contrasting with the vibrant platinum blonde hue of Junhoe's hair. Donghyuk wonders if he has albinism. But Junhoe only gives him a light glare and silently snatches his half-drunk latte.
Yes, Donghyuk loves Gyul to the point where he has to drag his friends here to meet up, celebrate, and even for a yearbook photoshoot. To the point where Junhoe has to burst out laughing. Donghyuk loves to watch his messy platinum head sticking out behind the counter, when he's bending over searching for a new coffee package. Donghyuk comes here so often that Junhoe has already got used to waiting for him, chit-chatting for some time, exchanging a few jokes, listening to their mutually enjoyed pieces, before closing the place.
- Why don't you add some other drinks to the menu? Like mandarin juice or green tea. Those kinda things.
Donghyuk blurts out when Junhoe has brought out a cup of latte, as usual.
- Nope, I prefer it this way.
He answers while lazily dragging his finger along the mouse.
- Maybe that's why Gyul doesn't have that many customers.
- Yeah. I only like iced black coffee and latte. And why are you staring at me like that?
- Ah... Nothing.
Donghyuk quickly hides his face behind the pages of his novel. On his first time entering Gyul, he did find Junhoe a bit scary. With that grumpy look on his face, it seemed like he didn't want to be approached or talk to anyone at all.
The girls who come here all take a liking to Junhoe, because he's cold, yet handsome. But after months of coming to this place, he realized Junhoe wasn't stand-offish at all. Junhoe is just like that, time does help people open up. He's just a bit picky, a bit childish, a bit mean, and a bit (much) noisy. And sometimes he unconsciously furrows his brows, too, as a habit. Or maybe it's just Donghyuk who notices that.
***
One day, Donghyuk came to the shop. Junhoe was in a hurry, and told him to cover for him, as he would just be gone for a while, and off he went. Donghyuk bewilderedly walked around the shop, cleaning up here and there, and even watered the sunflowers. He'd finished two lattes, brewed three coffees for the customers, yet Junhoe still hadn't been back. Donghyuk made a call. The line was busy.
And it was beginning to drizzle.
Donghyuk dropped off by the table.
***
- Knock knock.
The sound of Junhoe stirs Donghyuk from his slumber. Junhoe shakes his drenched raincoat lightly; his hair is a mess, its platinum lustre lost, replaced with a gloomier shade. A grimace finds its way to his face.
- I had some urgent business, and my phone died. Let me take you home later, but we have to wait for the rain to die down.
- Thanks!
Junhoe makes a cup of iced black coffee for himself then slumps down facing Donghyuk, sucking his teeth, a sadness in his voice:
- Next month, maybe I'll have to close Gyul down.
- Do they want to raise the rent or are you not able to balance the losses? - Donghyuk frantically widens his half-asleep eyes.
Junhoe silently frowns:
- I'm waiting for someone. But it seems like I'm in vain.
- Oh... - Donghyuk leans against the chair, intrigued by the somewhat intriguing story - Is it your ex?
- No. It's someone I like, and I promised him to wait.
- Here?
- Yeah. I told him I would open Gyul.
- But you've been running Gyul for only two months? - Donghyuk takes a sip from his latte.
- He's going away. Somewhere very far away. And maybe he's not coming back here.
Donghyuk closes his book, putting it in his bag, and hazily glances outside the window. The streetlights are shining bright, reflected on the panes. It has got clearly dark, and the rain has died down.
- Donghyuk, you once wondered, why the shop's name was "Gyul" and not "Iced black coffee and latte" or "Latte and iced black coffee", right?
- Yeah.
- I met him in Jeju. When the mandarins were in season.
The rain stops. Junhoe busies himself closing the shop. Donghyuk sits behind him, wanting to ask more questions but doesn't dare to. Donghyuk can't stop his thoughts from wandering. It has turned out that Junhoe opened Gyul not to earn his living, nor to kill time while waiting for a perfect job, and especially not to become a coffee shop manager. He doesn't know how to help him, even a reassurance now seems redundant. But Donghyuk really doesn't want Gyul to be closed down.
- How did you know he was going away? - The curiosity inside Donghyuk wins, after all.
- I've just gone to meet him.
Cold gusts of wind from the Han river blow against them. Junhoe speeds up his motorbike.
- But I don't want Gyul to be closed - Donghyuk's voice drops lighter, muffled by the wind.
Junhoe rides with Donghyuk until he reaches the front of his house. Before turning his bike around, Junhoe says to him, his voice small, void of any every-day playfulness.
- I don't want to shut Gyul down either, Donghyuk.
***
Donghyuk comes to Gyul more often, at any moment of his spare time.
He's never pictured the day Gyul being closed down, the day its owner disappears, along with the tasty latte, and the ongoing stories they've shared. It seems like Junhoe is not changing his mind. He's not as cheerful as before and often distracted. He's charged customers the wrong price a number of times. They ordered iced black coffee yet he brought out two lattes. Donghyuk can only count down the days. If Junhoe leaves early next month then he'll just have exactly five days to drop by. The sunflowers are still in bloom, the table sets are still the same, plain and rustic. Yet, Gyul is about to be closed down.
- Hey! - Donghyuk calls out when he sees Junhoe repairing the drawer.
- You said you would close Gyul next month, so is it at the start or at the end of the month?
- You're up to something, aren't you?
- Ah, I'm just wondering.
Junhoe stands right up. Some platinum blonde strands fall down to his eyes, tousled. He breathes out a gush of air as if to empty the heaviness in his chest, but a brooding melancholy still lingers.
- All right. Listen, Gyul won't be closed down. I'll assign a friend to manage this place. You can come here anytime, order a cup of latte and read a book. My friend won't bother you. Oh. Maybe then Gyul's menu will be filled with many new types of drinks, too.
Not until Junhoe talks about giving this place to a friend does Donghyuk realize that he is even more important than Gyul. Gyul won't be closed, yet he's still upset, because Junhoe still has to go.
- I won't be coming here then. - He says.
- Why?
Donghyuk doesn't answer, taking the book to hide his face. He's afraid that, if he talks any longer, he will cry. And a guy crying is obviously not so great.
Junhoe steps forward, taking a seat facing Donghyuk, and without warning, he yanks the book out of his hands, looking straight in his eyes, clicking his tongue with full of regret in his voice:
- And here I am thinking you've been crying all this time.
Donghyuk laughs out loud.
***
A few days later, busy with all his projects, Donghyuk can't come to Gyul, spending his mornings at uni, his afternoons at the library. It is pretty much urgent, otherwise he would just lie around here for the whole week. It's not until long later that Donghyuk is free from his hectic schedule. He grabs the door knob, bending over, panting. Nostalgia seems to be gushing out. When he finally calms his mind down, he gently opens the door, giving Junhoe a disarming smile hello.
As usual, Junhoe brings out a cup of warm, sweet-smelling latte.
- What's wrong? Sick of Gyul already?
- Probably so. I'm so sick of it that I excitedly ran here the moment I finished my deadlines. - Donghyuk brightly makes a joke, pretending that there's nothing to worry about.
- But hey.
- Yeah?
-...
- Yeah?
- I'm leaving tomorrow. My friend is coming. He's been here a few times, said there was nothing much to redo.
Donghyuk stays silent. He stares deeply into Junhoe's eyes. Then he suddenly feels terribly upset. Upset about his decision, about both of his decisions to open and quit Gyul.
- If I were him, I probably wouldn't come here either.
Junhoe stares at him for a long, long moment, but doesn't say anything.
- If you don't even know how to cherish what you currently have then there will be nobody left to even cherish you! - Donghyuk stands right up.
- Then what do you think I have?!
- You have Gyul. Isn't that your passion? Don't you have some love for it?
- Is that it?
- And there's me, too. Don't I love you a lot, too?
- What do you have to do with Gyul? - Junhoe insists. - Even if I leave, you'll still be here. Or is it because I'm quitting Gyul that you're cutting ties with me?
- Yes. I will do that!
Junhoe stands up, and Donghyuk walks out.
***
After that day, one or two months have gone by, Donghyuk has tried not to think of Gyul, or him. He's tried not to think of where he is, what he's doing, or who he's with. Whether he's lying awake thinking about their last moment together. Whether he wanted to stop him the moment he walked away. And one last thing. That whether he misses Donghyuk, just like the way he does but still trying to deny it.
Donghyuk buries himself in his study to prepare for his end-of-year thesis, trying not to let himself be distracted by anything else. Finishing school in the afternoon, he walks straight home. For group study, he doesn't suggest Gyul anymore. His every day goes on like that.
Tried his best not to let his legs unconsciously lead him to the shop.
But the longing still drags on and on, thick, and suffocating.
When studying, conversing, or eating, Junhoe's heart-rending deprecating words keep ringing in his head, each and every sunflower crumbling, every pastel shade of color blurred away, crushing his heart tight.
Not until after it seems like decades have gone by does he receive a text from Junhoe out of the blue, confirming every feelings test he has accidentally taken.
He doesn't remember when he gave Junhoe his number. But that doesn't seem to matter anymore.
"Everyone can build themselves up, after everything. Donghyuk-ah, please stop being mad at me? Gyul says to me. That it misses you."
Donghyuk tenses, grabbing his phone tightly. Turns out he is still here. Turns out he hasn't gone anywhere. Donghyuk closes his eyes, heaving a long sigh.
And it turns out he's moved on from his past.
Donghyuk misses the lines of bright golden sunflowers, every wood grain gleaming under the reflected afternoon sunlight through the window panes, the sweet warming aroma from the coffees, from the lattes, blending together.
And I miss you, Junhoe.
It turns out that's what love is all about.
***
Donghyuk takes a deep breath, turning the familiar door handle.
Seeing the silhouette of a messy platinum blonde head under the counter looking for coffee packages, he feels a smile spread on his lips.
END