Chapter 8 - Her

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Jimin

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Jimin

I had 30 minutes before I had to be at work so I parked my car in front of a small coffee shop and walked inside.

The room was filled with small wooden tables, each with a vase of florals on top; the smell seems familiar. There was a corkboard with pinned job advertisement flyers located next to the main door, and the wall behind it held a large selection of illustrations and paintings, full of happy colours. Towards the back of the shop was the main counter. The countertop contained a coffee machine and till, with large jars filled to the brim with various cookies and muffins.

A balding man in his 40s stood behind the counter serving an older lady, whilst a younger brunette woman was busy making coffees behind the machine.

I walked over to the man and placed my order. While I waited, I looked at social media on my phone and became so engrossed by it that I didn't hear my name being called out.

"Jimin...Jimin?"

I heard the sound of a softly spoken woman repeating my name; I've heard that voice before.

When I glanced up, I looked directly into the woman's eyes. Green eyes.

I was so shocked that I jumped backward and dropped my phone on the floor. At the same time she dropped the hot coffee she was holding in her hand, and the boiling liquid spilled all over the bench, floor, and my shoes.

"Ara! Clean up this mess!" shouted the male behind the counter.

"Sorry sir, please allow me to refund your coffee and I will make you a new one" stuttered the male to me.

I just blankly nodded to the male, but my eyes were focused on her.

She quickly rushed around the counter and started cleaning up the spill at my feet. As I leaned down to retrieve my phone from the floor, I make eye contact with her and she audibly gulped.

"Your name is Ara?" I asked inquisitively. She nodded.

"And your name is Jimin?" she asked shyly. I nodded.

I didn't want her to get in any more trouble, so I helped her quickly wipe up the spill on the floor.

As she went to stand up, I reached out my hand and offered my phone to her. She looked at me confused; as if I had just handed her an alien or something.

"What's this?" she asked curiously.

"It's my phone. Could I have your number?" I asked sheepishly.

"Why?" she questioned innocently.

"Umm...so I can call you sometime?" I responded, unsure.

She took my phone and began typing her number in. As she was typing, I watched her face closely; trying to decipher her emotions.

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