The rain drummed against the window, a rhythmic melody that filled the cozy café. Jisung sat at the corner table, his notebook open but untouched. His pen twirled between his fingers, eyes flickering between the gray world outside and the untouched cup of coffee before him. It wasn’t writer’s block; it was something else. Or someone else.

You entered with the rain, shaking droplets from your umbrella. Your laughter, soft and melodic, danced through the air as you greeted the barista. Jisung froze, his heart suddenly racing in his chest. There you were again.

You weren't a stranger, not entirely. Over the past few weeks, their paths had crossed here, in this very café, always by chance. Yet, you were a mystery, a fleeting muse who stirred something deep within him. Today, he promised himself, he would speak to you.

You took your usual seat by the window, a book in your hands. Jisung’s eyes lingered on you as yoy tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, utterly engrossed in your reading. He bit his lip, his courage faltering.

Then, inspiration struck. Scribbling furiously in his notebook, he let the words pour out:

"I wanna be your vacuum cleaner, breathing in your dust. I wanna be your Ford Cortina, I will never rust."

He stopped, tapping the pen against his chin. The lines were simple, but they carried his heart. He wanted to be everything for you, no matter how mundane or grand.

Minutes passed, and when he finally looked up, you were gone. Panic surged in his chest. No, not again. But then, there was a note on his table, tucked beneath his cup.

His hands trembled as he opened it. The handwriting was delicate, and the words were familiar.

"I wanna be yours."

He looked up, scanning the café, and there you were, standing by the door with a shy smile.

Jisung didn’t hesitate this time. Notebook in hand, he stood and walked toward you, his heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft but steady.