Ships Passing In The Night ｜Markhyuck (OT21 AU)

Chapter 32

"I'll be there soon, hyung. I'm sorry!" Kim Dongyoung scoffed, pressing his phone closer to his ear as he navigated around a slow, middle-aged couple in front of him on the sidewalk. The audio coming through the speaker was muffled and there was a dull rumble of passing cars in the background, meaning that Donghyuck was using his phone whilst driving.

"Take your time," he told the younger boy, shaking his head disapprovingly. "I can wait." He stopped outside a small cafe, peering up to check the name on the sign above the door. It was the right one, a small, family-owned establishment several miles off-campus, and it matched the address he'd texted over to Donghyuck earlier that morning. He caught the swinging door with his free hand as someone left, stepping inside. "Now, get off your phone. It's not safe."

He hung up and tucked the phone into the inner pocket of his jacket, then shrugged the thin fabric off his shoulders. It wasn't especially warm inside the cafe, but the temperature was well-controlled enough that he didn't think he'd get cold while waiting for Donghyuck. The boy had called to let him know that he'd run into traffic on the highway and that he would be running late, but Dongyoung didn't mind all that much. He was in no hurry, now he knew that he would finally get the answers he sought, and he could just as easily wait another half hour to get them.

Selecting a booth by the window, Dongyoung sat down and pulled a menu across in front of him. He made quick work of choosing a drink--there weren't many ways one could ruin a good quality coffee bean, after all--and pulled out a small notebook and pencil from yet another pocket of his newly folded jacket. He hadn't planned on having this much free time, given the reason for his visit to this cafe in the middle of nowhere--halfway between campus and Neo City--but he was nothing if not prepared.

The pencil was little more than a stub at this point, well-loved and even more well used, but he still managed to twirl it absently through his long fingers as he turned his attention to the other patrons of the establishment. There was an elderly man in the far corner, nursing a large cup of a steaming, pitch-black brew. The man's face was lined with age, eyes hooded as he appeared to doze off in between sips of the strong drink, but his posture was relaxed and open. This man, whoever he was, had lived a good life, Dongyoung would wager. He was now enjoying the simplest pleasures in life, and Dongyoung couldn't help but think that he had the right idea.

He wrote down his observations in the tiny notebook, hoping that the man wouldn't look up and notice that he was being stared at. Dongyoung's gaze didn't linger too much longer, flicking back just long enough to look for a wedding ring on the man's finger--there was none, but the patch of skin where it should have sat was several shades lighter than the rest of his hand. He frowned, noting that down as well, before moving on to examine the next patron.

Dongyoung didn't always make a habit of prying into other people's lives for fun, a fact he had tried and failed to explain to Nakamoto Yuta too many times at this point to keep track of. While he did find the challenge of mentally dissecting a human being, based solely on external observations, engrossing, it was more of a requirement than a hobby. As a psychology major, he and his fellow students had often been tasked with completing detailed profiling of strangers over the years and, if Dongyoung had found a natural talent in doing so, something he continued to hone in his spare time, that was no one's business but his own.

The next person he noticed sat across the room from him, their back to the majority of the other customers. He could see that they had dark hair, cropped neatly at the nape of the neck, a clean white shirt stretched over broad shoulders, and a stature that was significantly diminished by the fact that they were hunched over a book, elbows propped up on the tabletop. Dongyoung immediately dismissed them, if only for the fact that he could see nothing of their face, and shifted his gaze over to a group of four women at the neighbouring booth. Now, these women posed a real challenge, he thought, with their eclectic mix of ethnicities and ages. Dongyoung smiled and tapped his pencil to his bottom lip, as he scanned each face in turn. He relished a healthy challenge while he waited for Donghyuck.