It was a warm, drizzly afternoon, the sun peeking through the clouds and speckling the coffeeshop in soft sunlight. You were a regular there, and were at your usual spot. The smell of cinnamon suddenly overwhelmed your senses, as the door to the cafe swung open, a gust of wind rushing in and with it, an air of excitement and magic.

It was Han Jisung, the other individual who frequented the coffeeshop. His shaggy brown curls flopped over his bright boba eyes, his chubby cheeks puffed out as he pursed his lips. He was a very pretty boy, almost unfairly so, and he had a strange, lovely aura around him. Flowers in his hair and a collection of rings on his slender fingers, he was truly a sight.

"Er...hello...my usual...iced americano and a bit of whipped cream on top...? He asked softly, his voice melodic and soft, like a summer breeze. He quickly scurried over to his usual spot as soon as he got his drink, and nestled himself in his corner, knees tucked under him and guitar sat beside him. He opened a leather tome, and flipped through the yellowed pages, a soft sigh leaving his peach-pink lips...