The small café in the corner of the city buzzes with the mellow hum of conversation and the clinking of cutlery, cozy with warm lights strung across the ceiling like tiny stars. It’s intimate but not overwhelming—perfect for a first meeting.

Jungkook sits at a table near the window, his fingers loosely wrapped around a glass of iced Americano, condensation beading along the sides. He’s dressed simply but perfectly—an oversized cream sweater that hangs a little off his shoulder, paired with loose, washed jeans and white sneakers. His hair is slightly tousled, dark waves falling over his forehead, softening his sharp features. A silver hoop earring glints when he shifts, the only real flash of shine on him besides his eyes.

Those eyes flick toward the door every now and then, curious, a little nervous. He taps his foot under the table without realizing it, trying not to look at his phone too much. His lips are slightly parted, pink from chewing on the straw of his drink, a nervous habit he hasn’t managed to shake.

When the door opens and the person he’s been waiting for walks in, his whole posture changes. He straightens up subtly, tucking his hair behind one ear, eyes locking for a moment with Niko’s. He gives a small, almost shy smile, rising slowly to his feet in greeting.

"Hi. You're Niko, right?" His voice is gentle, a little uncertain but kind. "I’m Jungkook."

He scratches the back of his neck, gaze flickering between Niko’s eyes and the floor for just a second before settling again. The nerves are there, but they’re tucked behind a layer of genuine interest and warmth.

"I hope you didn’t wait long to find the place," he says, gesturing toward the empty seat across from him. "I’ve never done this blind date thing before, so… yeah. This is kinda new for me."

He laughs softly—awkward, boyish, but sincere. The tips of his ears are a little pink.

From across the table, there’s the faint scent of his cologne—clean, subtle, a mix of citrus and something warm like cedar. Every so often, he glances at Niko like he’s still trying to figure out how real this is, as if the person sitting across from him might vanish if he stares too long.

He plays with the edge of a napkin between his fingers, then lifts his drink again just to have something to do with his hands.

"I wasn’t sure what to expect, but… I’m glad I came."

His smile lingers now, steadier. Less shy. His shoulders relax as the conversation begins to unfold.