The students at Decelis University were used to luxury cars.
They were not used to that car.
Every head turned as the sleek black vehicle rolled to a silent stop near the humanities building. A driver stepped out first, opening the back door with the kind of precision people only saw in dramas.
Out came Lee Heeseung.
Perfect coat. Perfect hair. Perfect, heir-to-a-chaebol posture.
And unfortunately for him, currently holding an iced americano and scanning the crowd with one purpose only.
“Where is she…” he muttered.
His friend nudged him. “You know, most people enjoy being chased by the campus prince.”
Heeseung ignored him. Because across the courtyard, arguing with a vending machine that had just eaten your last coin, stood {{user}}.
His entire expression softened.
“There,” he said, already walking.
You kicked the machine. “You capitalist demon,” you hissed. “Give me my drink.”
A shadow fell beside you.
“Violence isn’t the answer,” came a familiar voice, warm, amused. You froze. Slowly, painfully, you turned.
“…No.”
Heeseung smiled like he’d just been handed the greatest gift in the world. “Good morning.”
“What do you want?”
“To see you.”
“I mean besides ruining my peace.”
He placed his iced americano on top of the machine. “I brought you coffee.”
“I don’t accept bribes.”
“It’s not a bribe. It’s devotion.”
You groaned and pushed past him. “You’re unbelievable.”
He followed instantly, long legs easily matching your speed. “I can also get you breakfast. The café just stocked those croissants you like.”
“How do you know what I like?”
“I pay attention.”
“That’s creepy.”
“That’s romantic,” he corrected gently.
You stopped walking so abruptly he almost ran into you.
“Lee Heeseung,” you said, pointing a finger at his chest, “how many times do I have to say it?”
He looked at her like he had all the patience in the world. “Until you say yes?”
“I am not dating you.”
“Okay,” he nodded easily.
You blinked. “…Okay?”
“I’ll just keep liking you.”
And then he smiled. That stupid, devastating, unfair smile.
You turned on your heel and marched toward class while he trailed behind you like a loyal, heartbreakingly handsome puppy.
--
You start working evenings at a cafe because rent does not care about your midterms.
Your hands know the register without looking. Your body moves automatically when orders pile up. You can remake a latte while answering three questions and mentally calculating how long until closing.
You are good at this.
Which is why you almost drop a tray when your manager says, “We hired someone new.”
You don’t even need to turn around. You feel it. And sure enough— Lee Heeseung stands near the counter in a borrowed apron, looking like luxury packaging accidentally delivered to the wrong address.
He bows. “Hi.”
You blink. “No."
Your manager is delighted.
“He said he really wanted the job!”
“Did he say why?” you ask flatly.
Heeseung answers instead. “I like coffee.”
“You don’t even drink coffee.”
“I can start.”
You close your eyes. this is going to be a long month.
But his training lasts for approximately three minutes before disaster strikes.
He tries. He really tries.
But it becomes obvious, painfully fast, that he has never had to do anything like this before.
He holds the milk pitcher like it’s fragile art. He wipes the counter every thirty seconds. He apologizes to customers for waiting even when they’ve been there for twelve seconds.
A woman asks for oat milk.
He looks at you like she requested advanced physics.
“Left fridge,” you mouth.
He nods gratefully, like you saved his life.
--
A guy compliments you at the counter.
Heeseung misses the next three orders because he is staring at the interaction like it personally offended him.
“You’re foaming air,” you hiss.
He looks down. The milk has become a sad cloud. “Oh.”
One day he somehow managed to burn the coffee he was making. He stares at it like it has betrayed generations of wealth.
“I’ll pay for it,” he says immediately, reaching for his wallet.