Love In The Time Of Coffee | Yunho [Ongoing]

8 | drinkin' in the morning

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EVERYONE MUST APPRECIATE OVERCONFIDENCE IN a walking, talking, breathing mannequin of a man, very much alive. Especially when he made his living out of it.

But not me. I had seen Song Mingi a reasonable amount of times though never met him. I never thought I would, I also never figured if I wanted to. Now that I did made me realize truly I didn't. Something already led me to believe we weren't two people meant to click. We weren't supposed to. The longer I peered his way, the harder it sunk from his smirk that he was busy thinking his own thoughts and they were utterly distinguishable from mine.

"Up close," he leaned in to capture a closer and nearer view of my face and it became new to me that he wore glasses, "I have to agree with the barkeep. A face like yours is hard to miss. I've seen you before."

He leaned away. Mingi waited for me to take a hint and juggle his memory. My tongue clung to the ceiling of my mouth the minute I considered telling him. Even my own body didn't think it the right way to go. The longer I looked at Mingi, it hit all over that we could never be made for each other in any wise.

I shook my head. "Sorry," I said. "We've never met."

Affirmed in this manner, it was hardly a lie. Although I still took it for one, it wouldn't shape up to be so.

"It's both our lucky day, then," Mingi stated.

A snort came from behind the counter. "Just what the world needs, another overconfident nincompoop to bear." I agreed with San. I also wished I could've been able to show it too. "Somebody needs to teach you how to flirt with a lady."

"You know my company. An asshat with a love for sweaters who's chosen to work for his uncle as a salaryman for the time being constitutes one of them. There's you." The conversation had started to forge on like I ceased to exist now that Mingi had finally acknowledged San. "Not to mention a taciturn wimp who flinches when girls talk to him."

Huh. I wanted to tell them I also had one of those—taciturn wimp, he'd called them. Yeosang didn't come off the type to blanche in the eye of terror however.

I disregarded the idea, shaking my head to be rid of it. If I was to bring it up that we had something in common, it was bound to reel Mingi in further. I hoped to settle for San alone. With Mingi, it made for a terribly bad mix, but the truth was he got me intimated by him. He had a patina of assertiveness. Mingi was both confident and the total opposite of me (the very essential one needed to live as a human being). I could understand why Lang relied on him quite an ample lot. Boss would reach out to him nearly all the time and Song Mingi never failed to deliver, both in and out of his element.

It was for this reason that it managed to warp into a thing for envy. It might also be the root cause of the despisement I could not help but feel towards him.

I thought of Yunho, who I was only getting to know. I thought of Mingi right after. I imagined that they could be lifelong friends without effort. I had the feeling the two would be sure to hit it off once they met. They would cross paths pretty soon, surely. How well did I presume that occurrence was going to bode for me?

Did I want it?

Not exactly.

A part in me slowly began despising the sheer idea of Yunho knowing other people and becoming familiar with them. Because it all but meant to me that he'd slant his attention towards someone else and I would sit and do absolutely nothing about it. Maybe mourn for a day or two. If Monday comes knocking and I witness another verbal exchange between Yunho and Mia from beyond a dusty window—Yunho laughing where he deemed fit, whether out of politeness or sincerity, I just might do the needful and resign.