Ch.1

It was raining again.

Wendy could see the giggling school children running past her to avoid getting drenched, a couple huddled together under an umbrella, and people watching the downpour through the windows of the numerous cafes that lined the street. Wendy, however, took her time, having long discarded her umbrella and letting the rain soak her hoodie, even relishing the uncomfortable feeling of the fabric clinging onto her skin. The gentle pitter-patter of the rain hitting the sidewalk lulled her into a trance and made her want to dance in the rain.

She really loved the rain.

Bobbing her head to the music blaring in her headphones, she almost didn’t notice the commotion at the corner of the street, bumping into a man who had just exited the cafe. Muttering an apology, Wendy frowned when she heard the excited murmurs and the large crowd surrounding the outside of a small cafe, a worker passing a paper menu around. Curious as to why there was such a large crowd gathering around, she took one of the menus offered and opened it, eyes landing on the name on top of it.

“Gentle beans Cafe… oh, there’s Red Velvet!” Chuckling to herself at the terrible joke, Wendy gave the menu a cursory glance once over, Wendy decides to come back to this cafe at another time, pocketing the menu and making her way back to the apartment.

It was still raining by the time she made it back to the apartment (and Irene scolded her for not using her umbrella).

The first time Wendy actually stepped foot in the cafe, it was a quiet Saturday and she happened to be walking down the same street and suddenly had a craving for sweets just as she was passing your cafe. Recalling the large crowd that was outside the cafe, Wendy decided to stop and grab a quick snack.

The cafe was oddly quiet today, not even a worker in sight, only the low hum of jazz playing in the background. Wendy noted how small it was, with only about four to five tables scattered around, with exposed brick walls and plants hanging from the ceiling, a pile of giant plushies stacked against a corner towards the back of the cafe, where a little play area for what Wendy assumes is for pets was set up. The dark wooden floor complimented the pastel green furniture, a tall bookshelf filled with vinyl and CDs leaned against the wall, right where the counter was with its bright red cash register, a clay succulent with a beanie greeting her as she walked up to it. This wasn’t like the other modern styled cafes that were just a few stores down, this cafe was more vintage in taste and carried the distinctive scent of cookies baking in the oven.

Grinning at the goofy expression on the succulent, Wendy rings the bell, cringing at the loud ringing and the crash she hears from the back, a cookie-cutter rolling out from the blue divider. She waits for a moment before hearing the curtain ruffle and a shout come from the kitchen, “I’ll be there in just a moment!” She heard a smaller crash and the quiet sounds of sneakers against the floor, the cloth divider being pushed to the side as you walked out, apron covered in chocolate stains and jam. Flour dusted your ruined hair and clothing, more evidence of what had happened in the back when Wendy rang the bell.

Grinning, you cheerfully said your greeting, “welcome to Gentle Beans! I’m sorry, there’s normally someone manning the counter, but it’s the weekend and business is usually pretty slow on the weekends. Oh! But George here is always a diligent worker,” you pointed to the goofy clay cactus, “he usually keeps my customers entertained for a while until I finish up in the back, well, it’s usually the kids that find him funny. I usually don’t get any customers until late into the afternoon, so forgive me if I look like a mess, I accidentally spilled some milk on the floor and then I heard the bell…”

Wendy’s stomach growled as she subtly eyed the cakes on display, wondering if she should stop your ramblings, but you luckily noticed her hungry gaze and chuckled nervously, “sorry, I tend to ramble sometimes. All of my customers are thankfully very patient with me, but anyway! What would you like?” Wendy took a look at the deserts on display before turning to you with a small (and hopefully attractive) smile, “why don’t you choose one for me?”

“Are you sure? Then I suggest the carrot cakes, I just made them this morning and I added some carrot shavings to the top, so I’m quite eager to hear what people think of it!”

“Add a matcha milk tea to that, extra ice please.”

Wendy rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet as you took the slice of carrot cake out and rang up her order. Normally, she would’ve taken this to-go, but her hunger won out and she carried her cake to one of the tables by the corner, nearest to the playpen. Slicing a small piece of the cake with her fork and taking a bite, Wendy fully expected to taste the sweet sugar and the spice from the cinnamon. But when the overpowering taste of salt hit her tongue, she was left confused and speechless.

When did carrot cakes start tasting so salty?

Chewing the cake thoughtfully, Wendy raised the plate up to eye level to see if there was anything out of the ordinary in the cake but nothing seemed to be wrong, looking like an average carrot cake with a few sprinkles of shredded carrots resting on top of the rich cream cheese, so why did it taste so salty? Would it be rude if she spat it out?

“Here’s your matcha milk tea!”

Wendy did her best to smile at you when you set her drink down on the table, but it probably looked more like a grimace because you frowned and asked if everything was okay. Wendy did her best to nod and pretend that the cake wasn’t destroying her taste buds but it became too much as she reached for a napkin and spat the cake into it. You blinked in surprise and mild offense as Wendy reached for her milk tea, drowning the saltiness away with the sweetness of her drink.

“Are your carrot cakes supposed to be so salty?”

Taken back by the question, you suddenly realized what was wrong and bowed your head, apologizing profusely, “I’m sorry! I forgot to mention that part before serving it, my regulars seem to find it funny and we have a whole event dedicated to it, but sometimes when I bake, I tend to mix the ingredients up and add salt instead of sugar or baking powder and baking soda. Here, let me get rid of this for you and bring you another one!” You hurriedly removed the salty cake and brought it to the back, almost tripping on the laces of your sneakers, before bringing Wendy another cake. Nervously setting it down in front of her, you huffed, “hopefully this one tastes fine.”

Wendy hesitated for a moment before cutting a small piece and taking a bite. This time it wasn’t salty: it was deliciously sweet, melting in , with just the right amount of spice from the cinnamon and nutmeg to balance the sugar out and the subtle carrot flavor popping out towards the end was delightful. You puffed your chest out in pride when you saw the blissful look on your customer’s face as she scarfed the rest of the cake down, “looks like this one tastes alright.”

“Alright? It tastes amazing!” Swallowing the last of her desert, Wendy grinned at you, “you’re totally forgiven for trying to poison me. Did you say your customers like the salty snacks? And you made a whole event out of it?”

Twirling the apron string, you let out a laugh, cheeks flush with embarrassment as you told her the story, “my employees always do their best to keep me from the kitchen because of my mishaps, and one day, I served one of my regulars an extremely salty blueberry muffin. I fully expected them to get mad at me, instead, they turned around and thought it was pretty funny and got the whole cafe into it, buying my muffins and seeing if they would get a salty one instead of a sweet one. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, my employees and regulars turned it into an event, where whoever finds the salty cookie gets a coupon and a free slice of cheesecake. It’s quite a popular event when it happens, all of our employees would be in the kitchen trying to keep up with the demand.”

Wendy snickered to herself, trying not to cackle at the thought of people lining up all to find the one salty cookie. You only smiled, amused at the memory yourself as you took her plate to the counter, “I really try not to be clumsy, but my customers say that it’s a selling point, even more than the sweet jazz music. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, my regulars always tell me how good it is, it's kind of refreshing to hear it from a new customer, even if I did try to poison you.” Finishing up the last of her milk tea, Wendy grinned at you, “don’t worry about it, it’s pretty funny now that I know the context behind it. Plus, you more than made up for it with the delicious carrot cake,” she even winked at you, causing a small chuckle to escape as you regarded your customer before you spotted your usual group of schoolchildren racing down the street with gleeful looks, pushing the door open and crowding around you, screaming your name, “Y/N! Are the snacks ready?”

“The snacks- Oh no!”

Quickly seating the children down, you ran back into the kitchen, where Wendy and the schoolchildren could hear your shout of relief, returning a few minutes later carrying a tray of cookies. Wendy watched as you laughed at the children’s stories, pouring glasses of juice as they happily munched on your cookies. Taking a look at the time, she decided that it was best to head back to the dorm now and turned to leave when she heard your voice call out.

“Hey!” Turning around, Wendy saw you holding out a small bag of what looked like the same cookies that the children were eating, “I still want to apologize for what happened. It’s on the house.” Wendy tried to refuse the offer, but you insisted on her taking it, pushing the bag into her hands and smiling at Wendy before turning around to grab a towel (one of the children spilled some juice). Leaving the cafe, Wendy pulled out one of the chocolate cookies and smiled at the cactus shape before taking a bite, tasting the bittersweet dark chocolate in .

By the time she reached the dorm, Wendy had already finished half of the bag.

A storm raged outside as Wendy munched on some cookies, watching people run under stores for cover and others holding onto their umbrella to keep it from flying away, soft piano mixing in with the hushed conversations of the other customers as background noise. Wendy could hear some of them complaining about the storm while others talked about how delicious the desserts were. She was supposed to be back at the dorms by now, but with the strong wind and heavy rain, she had to call her manager to come to pick her up. Well, that and the fact that she didn’t bring an umbrella with her when she left, even when Irene said that it was going to rain.

She probably should’ve listened to her leader about that.

“Seungwan!”

The scent of chocolate filled the air as you called her name, holding a cup of hot chocolate for her to take. Pausing her work, Wendy made her way up to the counter to accept the drink (partially because she didn’t want you to trip and burn yourself). Handing her the cup, you grinned with anticipation, “I added an extra quarter teaspoon of cinnamon. I want to know how it tastes!” Wendy’s lips quirked at your eagerness and took a sip of the hot chocolate, humming at the sweet chocolate and cinnamon blending harmoniously, “I think the extra cinnamon was a nice touch, not too overpowering and the chocolate isn’t overly sweet either. I like it!” You seemed to glow at the praise, happy over the simple fact that your customer enjoyed what you made, and it made Wendy smile at the endearing sight. Perhaps it was because of how innocent it was or perhaps it reminded herself of the joy she felt when her teachers would praise her. She would compare you to a marshmallow or even mochi; sweet and squishy.

“Seungwan?”

Wendy blinked in surprise when the scent of coffee and caramel hit her nose, a little furrow of your brow as you leaned against the counter. You didn’t know why Wendy suddenly zoned out and was rather concerned that maybe she had burned her tongue but sighed in relief when you realized that Wendy was just thinking about something, momentarily turning away to help a customer, greeting them with your signature smile. Picking up George, Wendy toyed with the cactus as she watched you strike up a conversation with the old lady, laughing at her jokes and getting one of your employees to help her to a table. The idol could see why so many people were drawn to your cafe: it wasn’t your desserts (though they were very good), it was for your warm and lovable personality, accidents and all.

You were like the sun, and as much as Wendy hated the sun, she found herself liking you.

Setting the clay cactus down when Wendy saw that you were going on your break, taking your cup of hot chocolate that was piled high with marshmallows, she put on her most charming smile and gestured for you to come sit with her. You tilted your head like a puppy but let her guide you to her table, chuckling when Wendy dramatically held a chair out for you with a flirtatious wink. Sitting down across from you, Wendy pushed her abandoned plate of cookies towards you, intent on sharing them, “I’m guessing the rain’s not helping with business today?” It was true, by the time Wendy stopped by for a quick snack, there weren’t many people around, even for a weekday where customers would flock to your cafe just to get a slice of cake or bag of biscuits.

Biting into the cookie, you frowned for a moment, taking a little notepad out of your apron and jotting a few notes down, muttering incoherently under your breath. Quickly pocketing the notepad, you slumped in your chair, “tell me about it. The last few days haven’t been bad but today’s storm is wreaking havoc on the business. The weather forecast told me that it wouldn’t rain until tonight too,” you sighed, shoulders dropping when you hear the clapping of thunder outside, “I’m hoping that the storm lets up soon.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow, subconsciously moving to the background piano music, “You don’t like the rain, Y/N? I guess I can see why it’s bad for business.” Seeing Wendy sway to the soft piano, you found yourself doing the same thing, grinning at the childish action before answering Wendy, “Oh, I love the rain, I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain, but I prefer the sun to the rain. The rain… feels lonely..”

“Lonely? What do you mean by that?” Wendy asked, nursing her cup as you turned to look at your customers, some loudly laughing at a joke their friends made and others minding their own business, listening to the jazz playing or reading a book. The idol could see the soft glimmer in your eyes as you observed the sight in front of you, happy to see your customers despite the violent weather outside. Wendy wondered if you were always like this: happy and content with the simplest of things in life and not asking for more. She wondered if there ever was a time where you wanted more than you ever thought possible, imagining a younger version of you in culinary school, thinking you were going to be the next Gordon Ramsey or something.

Yeah, no, I can’t see it, she snickers to herself.

“...the sky feels like it’s crying.”

“Crying?”

“Yeah, sometimes the sky looks like it’s crying when it rains and it only stops when we dance. I kind of feel bad for rain, everyone runs away from it and doesn’t give it any love. Dancing in the rain feels like I’m trying to cheer it up, you know?” Resting your chin on your arm, you gazed past your customers to the empty street beyond, toying with the sleeve of your shirt. You looked like you wanted to go outside and dance, but the weight and responsibilities of life were stopping you from doing so. Wendy chuckled at the pout on your lips, joined by the old couple who sat at the table next to her, who patted her hand and told her that she was more than welcome to go and have fun but you shook your head, pout still in place.

Feeling mischievous, Wendy set her hot chocolate down and pulled you to your feet, smirking at the surprised yelp when she dragged you outside and into the rain. Wendy could feel the rain soaking her sweater and hair but she didn’t care about any of that, taking your hand and twirling you around, the sound of her laughter mixing with the pitter-patter of rain and the jazz from the cafe.

“Come on, Y/N! Don’t you want to cheer the sky up? I think it cried enough!”

You watched Wendy dance circles around you with a wide grin on her face and some of your customers muttering to themselves at the scene outside, the children disobeying their mothers to run outside and dance with her, their laughter joining Wendy as they tugged at your arm and played in the rain. Despite how cold it was and the way your shirt was clinging onto your skin, you laughed in absolute delight and joined Wendy and the kids, twirling around and laughing. You weren’t as good as Wendy, but she still grinned at your goofy moves, taking your hand to twirl you around as the children danced around you. You almost tripped on the slippery ground, but Wendy caught you in time, her arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from slipping.

“Careful there, don’t want you to fall and hurt your pretty face,” Wendy whispered, winking at you when the children tugged at your apron, shivering from being outside all this time. Quickly leading them back inside and asking your employees for some towels, you quickly hopped behind the counter to brew some tea and more hot chocolate to warm everyone up. Some of your customers laughed at your flushed cheeks, poking at them teasingly and making you pout while others merely shook their head with a smile, accepting the cup of tea you were handing out.

“Well, that was fun,” trading her now cold hot chocolate for the warm tea and towel, Wendy grinned at you cheekily when you huffed in mock annoyance, “come on~ you enjoyed it, Y/N!” Looking at Wendy’s grin and red face, you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning back, “that was irresponsible of me, Seungwan.”

“You had fun.”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

By the time her manager picked her up and scolded her for doing something as reckless as dancing in the rain, the sky had cleared and the sun’s rays shined down. But Wendy knew that she had already seen the sun in the cafe.

The sun had nothing on you.

“Has anyone noticed that Wendy’s been eating a lot of cookies?” The youngest member of Red Velvet whispered to the other members, glancing at Wendy happily indulging herself in the cactus-shaped cookies, glaring at Joy every time she tried to take one from her. Their leader sighed, handing the wet plate to Yeri, “I told her that eating so many cookies is a bad idea. She’s going to get cavities from eating so many. Joy, stop antagonizing Wendy and Wendy, share the cookies.”

“Joy can get her own cookies!”

“Stop hogging all of them!”

Seulgi popped her head into the living room, brows furrowed in concern over all the commotion, “what’s going on?” Irene pointed at the trio fighting in the living room: Joy reaching over Wendy to grab the plate and Wendy holding Joy back with one arm, the other moving the plate away. Seulgi looked like she wanted to stop them, but when their youngest joined in, climbing over the both of them to grab a cookie, shoving it in when Wendy grabbed at her leg. The trio fell into a pile as some of the cookies slipped from the plate and fell on the floor. Wendy reached over to pinch the youngest member’s cheeks, “Kim Yerim, spit that out this instant!”

Unfortunately for Wendy, Yeri was feeling extra rebellious that day as she glared at her and mockingly chewed, swallowing loudly as Joy pounced, grabbing hold of Wendy, “Quick, take the plate Yeri! I’ll hold this midget down!”

“Who are you calling a midget!”

Seulgi looked at the trio with concern and amusement, wondering if she should stop them before they got hurt, but Irene’s hand stopped her.

“I’ve already tried to stop them twice. Just let them fight.”

“...you’re enjoying this a little too much, Irene.”

Instead of answering Seulgi, the eldest member merely smirked mischievously, pouring herself a cup of tea. It was a chance encounter that Irene spotted her member at the cafe, trying her best to flirt with you. It was kind of funny to see that no matter how many compliments Wendy gave you (or how much money she spent on buying the chocolate cookies), you just giggled and waved her off and Irene would be lying if she said she didn’t want to see this unfold with her having front row seats.

Jumping at a high pitched screech, Irene turned around to see Wendy on the floor, gripping Yeri’s leg while Joy’s arms were around her waist, pulling her back and avoiding her kicks, “stop kicking me! This face pays the bills!”

“Give me my cookies!”

“Sharing is caring!”

“Yeah, well I don’t care!”

Yeah, maybe she should deal with her rowdy children first. Can’t have Wendy dying before Irene sees the ending.

“It’s raining again.”

Wendy muttered to herself as she watched the rain through the little gap in the cloth divider, the bag of sugar in her hand momentarily forgotten as it spilled over the measuring cup and onto the table. You only giggled at the sight, quickly swapping the cup out as Wendy emptied the bag. As expected with the rain, the business was rather slow at the cafe, so unusually slow that you decided to close the cafe early, inviting Wendy into the kitchen to help you make some madeleines. Soft jazz played in the background as Wendy watched the rain, only snapping back to reality when she felt the sugar bag empty and slip from her grasp. Looking down at the bowl of sugar, she grinned sheepishly, “I don’t think the recipe called for this much sugar, did it?” You shook your head, handing her a whisk, “not this much unless you were thinking about being here all night making them. Can you whisk the eggs for me?”

“Sure.” Wendy sighed as you smiled at her and turned around to mix all the dry ingredients, humming a little tune to yourself. While she didn’t say no to helping you, this wasn’t exactly was she had in mind when she asked if you could show her how to make one of the cafe’s signature desserts, she expected the two of you to be throwing flour or chocolate at each other, maybe playfully bump each other when you passed by one another, you know, like what all the romcoms show. But when you pouted and told her to not waste the ingredients, she knew this wasn’t the date (was it a date?) that she was expecting. Despite your cute and loveable personality outside of the kitchen, you were rather serious when it came to baking.

Those romcoms lied to me.

“Uh, Seugwan? You can stop beating the eggs now.”

“Huh? Oh!” Pulling the whisk away, Wendy handed the bowl to you, apologizing and hoping that she didn’t ruin the eggs as well as hoping you wouldn’t kick her out of the kitchen. Luckily the eggs were fine and you merely laughed, “something on your mind? You seem distracted.”

Leaning against the counter, Wendy wink flirtatiously, “You’re running around in my mind, Y/N. Not a wonder why I’m so distracted.” You cocked your head to the side in confusion, brows furrowed as you incorporated the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients, “but I’m standing right here, how am I running circles in your head?” The idol resisted the urge to facepalm, snatching a strawberry as she watched you fold the ingredients with a pink spatula. No matter how many cheesy pickup lines she’s tried on you, you just didn’t get the hint that she liked you. Of course, it was still cute to watch the furrow of your brow and the tiny pout as you tried to make sense of Wendy’s advances, but sometimes she just wanted to kiss you since that would be as straightforward as it got when it came to confessing her feelings.

I swear to god I just might. You’re cute as hell but as clueless as a brick wall.

Chewing on the strawberry, Wendy watched as you spread the batter onto your greased pan and placed it into the preheated oven, setting the timer and smiling at your handiwork, wiping your hands on your apron and turning to Wendy, “they’ll be done in fifteen minutes, I’ll get some tea for us while we wait.”

“Hold on, Y/N—” Wendy reached out to wipe the little dash of chocolate from your cheeks, grinning when you huffed, “I could’ve taken care of that myself, you know.”

“I know, but as your sous chef, isn’t it my job?” Winking at you, Wendy slung an arm over your shoulder as you sighed in bemusement, the corner of your lips curling up into an amused smile as you poured two cups of tea into the new cups that Wendy had bought for you, pastel blue with a floral pattern that you had been eyeing for quite some time. It was one of the many gifts that Wendy had given you, all to woo you. Of course, you had taken it as a friend giving you a gift, not understanding the actual reason why Wendy went out of her way to do so.

Sipping at the sweet tea, Wendy glanced your way to see you looking out onto the street, the soft smile replaced with a sadder look that Wendy had learned to associate with you wanting to go outside and dance in the rain. She wondered if it would be alright to pull you out, but judging from your hesitation and cursory glances back to the kitchen, where the cookies were still in the oven, the idol knew that you weren’t stepping out for a very good reason.

Still, Wendy didn’t want to see the sad look on your face. Her manager and Irene will probably give her hell for doing this, but it’s for a good cause.

Setting the cup down, she reached out to pinch your cheeks, making you yelp and rub your cheeks to soothe the pain, glaring at Wendy, “what was that for?” Wendy smirked at you, untying her apron and tossing it at you as she ran outside into the rain, shivering at the feeling of the cold rain against her skin. She could hear you calling after her, telling her to get back inside before she catches a cold but she chose to ignore you, humming Red Flavor under her breath as her body went through the familiar motions of the choreography. Wendy turned around to look at you, hoping to see at least a little smile, but you were glaring at her and scowling instead.

“Seungwan! Get back in here, you’re going to get sick!”

Wendy brushed you off, only stopping when she heard you stomp your foot and walked away, returning with an umbrella and towel. Walking out into the rain and holding it above Wendy’s head, you glared at her, “are you always so impulsive?” Wendy held the umbrella as she let you dry her hair, listening to your mumble something that sounded like you cursing her out. She smiled apologetically, “sorry. Well, I’m not actually sorry. But I know that look and I wanted to see what I could do. Dancing in the rain worked last time, so I thought that it would cheer you up. I don’t like it when you’re sad, Y/N.”

“I would be very upset if you caught a cold because you wanted to make me happy, Seungwan.” Despite how angry you were at Wendy’s impulsiveness, you still smiled at the pout and puppy eyes that she was giving you, booping her nose and giggling when she scrunched her nose, sticking her tongue out playfully when you pinched her cheeks. Rain poured down from the sky as she stepped closer to Wendy under the small umbrella, with her arm going around your waist. Without much thought, you pressed your nose against the crook of her neck, feeling Wendy shiver as your cold nose brushed against her. Had you looked up, you would’ve seen Wendy’s cheek turn pink from your actions as she gripped the umbrella handle in a death grip.

“We should probably go inside, Y/N,” Wendy mumbled into your hair, slowly walking you back into the cafe when she felt you shivering against her, “you’re going to be one who gets sick from standing out here now.”

Walking back into the cafe, Wendy cringed at the feeling of her clothes sticking to her skin as she sat down, warming her hands with a fresh cup of tea while you went back to the kitchen to grab the madeleines. The smell of the butter cookies made their way to Wendy’s nose as you brought them out, sighing in relief that they didn’t burn (though you almost tripped over your own feet bringing them out).

“Normally I wouldn’t sprinkle sugar on top but I know you have a bit of a sweet tooth,” you smiled at Wendy as she grabbed at one and shoved it into with a delightful grin, “I guess you enjoy them, Seungwan.” Wendy didn’t answer you, grabbing more of the cookies and humming at the taste of the sugary snack, but that was alright with you. To see the joy on a customer’s face when they try something of yours was worth it. Picking up one of the sugared treats, you popped it into your mouth and chewed thoughtfully, pulling out your trusty notepad to write down a few notes on the taste and texture.

Wendy watched you break the cookie apart, dissecting it bit by bit to see if there was anything that she could improve upon, making Wendy smile at the little furrow of your brow and the tip of your tongue peeking out as you scribbled on your notepad. You were so diligent and focused when it came to your baking and your work but your clumsy and almost childlike personality contrasts with your work ethic. You were so cute and smart and lovable and all Wendy wanted to do was wrap you up in a protective blanket and tell you how much she liked you.

“S-seungwan?”

Pausing mid-chew, Wendy looked up at your flushed face, the madeleine forgotten in your hand as you looked at her with wide eyes. She didn’t know what made you so embarrassed and was about to ask when the proverbial lightbulb .

She accidentally said her thoughts out loud.

“Ah.” Wendy could feel her face getting warm as the reality of what just happened set in. For the first time since she met you, the idol was at a loss for words, unsure about what she should be saying in this situation. This was not how she planned on telling you her feelings, she was supposed to make you swoon with her winning smile and charming personalities and then confess under a starry sky, not while she had cookie crumbs on her face and staring at you like a love-struck teenager.

Those rom coms are an actual scam.

Setting the cup down and chuckling awkwardly, Wendy slowly reached over to grab her jacket, intent on leaving the cafe while her dignity was still intact, “well, this is awkward. Um, you know, I just realized that I have to be somewhere right now. Bye!”

Without waiting for a response from you, Wendy shrugged on her jacket and sprinted out of the cafe.

She didn’t come back for a whole week.

It was weird standing outside of the cafe on a sunny day, but after moping around in the dorms and drowning her tears in ice cream and dramas, Irene had kicked her out and ordered her to replace the ice cream she had eaten. Wendy’s not sure what brought her to your cafe, but watching you through the glass as you handed a plushie to a toddler, she decided there was no better time than now to explain why she ghosted you.

The doorbell chimed its cheery tune as Wendy pushed the door open, smiling at you when you looked up to see who was coming in. She half expected you to scowl and give you a talk about how she ghosted you for a whole week, but true to your nature, you only smiled and waved at Wendy, already returning to the counter to ring her order.

“The usual, Seungwan?”

“Yeah. Listen Y/N, I didn’t mean to ignore you like that.”

You punched her order in, moving to the back to get the ingredients to make her milk tea, “it’s alright. Of course, I would’ve liked an explanation before you left but I understand. It must have been quite awkward just have blurted the words out. I get it.”

“No, wait Y/N,” Wendy tried to explain herself, “I mean, it wasn’t the right time. For me to say them, I was hoping that I would be able to sweep you off your feet first. That sounds weird now that I say it, but it’s true.”

You didn’t answer her back, focusing on the drink in front of you, though a little smile tugged at your lips as Wendy rocked on the balls of her feet. She didn’t know what your silence meant and, coupled with your smile, it sort of unnerved her that she wasn’t getting an answer to her embarrassing confession.

Placing her order in a bag, you handed it to her, chuckling at the puppy eyes that Wendy was giving you, “you know, it’s not too late to do just that, but not today. Check your cup before you throw it out okay?” Well, it wasn’t the answer that Wendy was expecting and it didn’t exactly make her feel any better, but she still paid for her goods and left, pout still in place even when you pinched her cheeks.

Finishing her matcha tea (Wendy completely forgot about how good it tasted), she was just about to toss it out when Wendy noticed something was written on the container. Upon closer inspection, she realized that it wasn’t the usual writings of what the order was, but a message for her:

Seungwan, if you’re done pouting and you’ve finally noticed this message, you’re more than welcome to take me out this weekend. I have plans on closing the cafe and will be bored to death unless I find something to do. Just a thought.

It was cheesy and cliche, but seeing the message, Wendy did her best to resist the urge to scream in the middle of the street, covering and doing a little dance of joy that attracted a few onlookers but Wendy didn’t care.

She had a date to plan now.

Guess the romcoms didn’t lie to her after all.