How To Fall In Love With Eyes

"Is someone there?" The sound echoed eerily in the stillness, causing Woo-San to flinch. Startled by the noise emanating from the heavy steel doors ahead, he instinctively took a cautious step back. Assuming it was merely a wandering animal making the unfamiliar sound, he mustered his courage and slowly approached the door. With a gentle nudge, he pushed it open just a crack, bracing himself for whatever might rush out, but to his astonishment, nothing stirred within.

Caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty, Woo-San made the decision to venture inside the dimly lit kitchen, carefully placing each footfall to minimize any noise that might startle hidden occupants. As he crept further into the room, his gaze fell upon a foot protruding from behind the kitchen island, its position suggesting someone was lying down. A jolt of adrenaline surged through him as he recognized that it was a person.

"Hey! Are you okay?" he called out, rushing to the figure's side. It was Yeon-Jun, but he couldn't recognize him. He shook him lightly, desperately hoping for a response. Checking his pulse, he felt a rush of relief; the heartbeat was strong and steady. His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, landing on the disassembled sink and a few scattered tools, realizing the individual must have been startled and inadvertently struck their head.

Determined to help, Woo-San gently lifted Yeon-Jun into his arms and carried him out of the kitchen, mindful of not drawing attention. He secured the front door, ensuring it was locked and the lights remained extinguished, blending them into the shadows. Once he laid Yeon-Jun down on a nearby loveseat, a pang of urgency propelled him back into the kitchen to fetch ice.

"Given the traffic, getting an ambulance here is out of the question," he muttered to himself, swiftly wrapping several pieces of ice in a clean handkerchief before placing them into a plastic bag. "This should work for now."

Settling back onto the loveseat, he gently positioned Yeon-Jun's head on his lap. He took a moment to assess the injured man's condition, raising his head slightly to locate the swollen area on his scalp. With careful precision, Woo-San applied the makeshift cold compress, hoping to alleviate some of the swelling. Using a throw pillow as support, he turned Yeon-Jun onto his side to keep him comfortable.

As he stood up to fetch a blanket, Woo-San could only sigh in resignation, glancing around the room filled with an unsettling silence. He felt a deep-seated reluctance to leave an injured person unattended, and the thought of awkwardly explaining how he ended up here and found Yeon-Jun unconscious loomed in his mind. In the end, he resolved to stay, knowing that his presence was vital until Yeon-Jun regained consciousness.

"What now?" he pondered, the question echoing in his mind without a clear response. As his gaze swept over the small café, he found himself fixated on the barista station, adorned with a collection of framed photographs. A twinge of guilt washed over him for intruding on personal mementos, yet the images were proudly displayed, inviting curiosity. Among them were several pictures of an orphanage bustling with the laughter of children, all clustered around a kind-faced man—the same person who Woo-San had rescued. "Nice people get good karma," he mused, realizing that Yeon-Jun must have been a genuinely good soul, someone who, though he lay unconscious in an empty cafe, had been fortunate enough to receive help from a caring stranger.

Delving deeper into the images, Woo-San's heart skipped. A familiar face stared back at him—Yixan, not only in her present form but also as a bright-eyed child. It struck him how vividly he could recall Yixan's younger self from the days when his grandfather tirelessly searched for her, his heart yearning for reunion. Her features were etched in his memory; he could identify her amongst thousands. As he lifted the frame closer, two other figures caught his attention: a young boy and an older man. Woo-San's pulse quickened as the older gentleman's visage stirred something in him—a flicker of recognition ignited. "Uncle..." he murmured, grappling with memories of an encounter long ago. "Uncle Cha?"

Abruptly, Woo-San noticed a flicker of movement from Yeon-Jun. Reacting instinctively, he placed the frame down and rushed to the young man's side, offering support as he helped him to sit up.

Yeon-Jun slowly opened his eyes, initially greeted by the dizzying pattern of a spiraling ceiling that swayed like a pendulum above him. He rubbed his heavy eyelids, attempting to fend off the throbbing pain radiating from the back of his head. As he tried to move, a rush of confusion washed over him. Though a stranger aided him, he instinctively recoiled, uncertain of this gentle giant. He rubbed his temples, blinking through the fog that clouded his vision.

"Are you okay?" a deep, resonant voice rumbled, striking Yeon-Jun as both foreign and oddly reassuring. Finally gathering the strength to focus, he turned his head to meet the gaze of the man assisting him. The stranger was not the familiar faces of Sung-Hoon or Yeon-Su but a figure altogether unknown.

Observing the bewilderment etched on Yeon-Jun's face, Woo-San quickly pieced things together. It dawned on him that the person he had just helped was indeed Yeon-Jun, the mute head barista of the cafe, as a normal person—under any circumstances—would be more vocal about the potential threats posed by a stranger looming over him in such a vulnerable state. Quickly regaining his composure, Woo-San stood up, retrieved his coat, and extracted his wallet. He handed Yeon-Jun a sleek business card, the embossed letters glinting under the cafe's warm lights.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Yeon-Jun Shin. I am Woo-San Kim, the CEO of K&L Entertainment," he introduced, his tone firm yet cordial. As Yeon-Jun accepted the card, a flicker of recognition sparked in his eyes. He recalled the name and the man associated with it—not as the powerful head of a prestigious media company, but rather as the cousin of his friend Yixan, a connection that filled him with both intrigue and loathe.

Yeon-Jun froze for a moment, his heart racing as he patted down his pockets, only to realize his phone was nowhere to be found. Without it, engaging in a dialogue felt impossible. Biting his lip in frustration, he scanned the room, deliberately avoiding Woo-San's inquisitive gaze as he searched for his elusive device. Observing Yeon-Jun's distracted demeanor, Woo-San raised an eyebrow and spoke up, "You didn't have your phone when I found you. I've checked, and it's not around here either."

As the realization sank in, Yeon-Jun recalled leaving his phone upstairs, a decision motivated by his desire for uninterrupted concentration while he worked. Now, feeling the void of communication, he impulsively grasped Woo-San's hand and began to scrawl messages on his palm. "You don't have to do that," Woo-San said gently, noticing the frustration etched on Yeon-Jun's face as he released his grip.

With a light chuckle, Woo-San retrieved his own phone, unlocking it with a swift motion before extending it toward Yeon-Jun. "Here, you can type your message here."

Yeon-Jun averted his gaze, offering an awkward nod as he accepted the phone. His fingers danced across the screen, formulating his thoughts into text. "Yixan isn't here. The boss isn't here either. If you're looking to meet with them, you should come back another time," he typed, awkwardly turning the device to show Woo-San.

Leaning in closer, Woo-San read the message, his face nearly brushing against Yeon-Jun's. With a slight smile, he looked up after absorbing the words, saying, "But I'm not here to meet them."

Caught off guard, Yeon-Jun blinked rapidly, wrestling with the urge to respond before abruptly spinning the phone around again. He quickly typed, "What are you here for?" and displayed it, his intense gaze demanding a satisfactory answer. Woo-San noticed the flicker of anxiety in his eyes and, with a soft smile, reached out, placing his hand gently on top of Yeon-Jun's head. The warmth lingered for a moment before Woo-San withdrew his hand, casually remarking, "The swelling seems to have gone down."

The comment caught Yeon-Jun off guard, and he felt a rush of embarrassment wash over him. "Do you think you can brew me a latte?" Woo-San continued, his tone light yet playful. Deep down, Yeon-Jun knew he wasn't in a fit state to make coffee, not to mention the chaotic state of his kitchen, but at that moment, he would've agreed to anything to escape the palpable tension and that oddly intimate position.

Since the sink in the cafe was inaccessible and Yeon-Jun had already shut down the barista station for the day, he decided against doubling his workload. Instead, he opted to take Woo-San upstairs to his apartment and personal kitchen, a sanctuary where the comfort of a well-equipped space could provide a warm respite from the demands of work. As they ascended the narrow back staircase, Woo-San followed quietly, acutely aware that this could very well be the first and last time Yeon-Jun would invite a stranger into his home. From this day forward, Yeon-Jun resolved to avoid finding himself in such situations—too unguarded for his liking.

Entering the apartment, Yeon-Jun was in such a rush that he barely acknowledged Woo-San's presence as he hurried inside, scarcely allowing him to remove his shoes. His mind raced, and he darted to retrieve his phone, feeling as though it contained a lifeline—an essential tool for communication that had eluded him moments before. If only he had had the means to reach for it sooner, he might have been able to apologize to Woo-San and hastily usher him out of the cafe, but fate had conspired differently.

As soon as he laid his hands on the device, his gaze fell upon a message from Sung-Hoon, which instantly darkened his mood. He knew he needed to maintain a calm demeanor for Woo-San's sake. After all, he had already assured him that no one else was present, which left him in a precarious position if Woo-San were to press any boundaries. Yeon-Jun was keenly aware that he couldn't afford to irritate Woo-San, especially given the distorted perceptions Yixan had shared about the man sitting across from him.

"You should take a seat," a cold, robotic message echoed in the room as Woo-San hung his coat on the rack near the entrance. Smiling faintly, he approached Yeon-Jun and obediently took the seat that was indicated to him. "Just so you know, I'm only doing this because you helped me. Make sure that Yixan doesn't find out about this. If she does, I'll have it out with you," the sterile voice stated, delivering a veiled threat. Yeon-Jun shot Woo-San a piercing glare, his expression laced with anxiety, before retreating to the kitchen to prepare a latte, focusing his energy on the rhythmic motions of his craft.

Hearing the dispassionate message, Woo-San couldn't suppress a quiet chuckle. "It seems you're frightened of her too," he murmured, observing Yeon-Jun as he became absorbed in his latte art.

"I think you really enjoy making coffee," Woo-San commented lightly as Yeon-Jun placed the meticulously crafted drink before him. Yeon-Jun remained silent and retreated to the couch, deliberately avoiding Woo-San's gaze. This subtle body language was unmistakable—the unspoken message was clear: Drink the latte and leave. Woo-San, perceptive enough to recognize the signal, obliged.

As Yeon-Jun scrolled through his phone, an unexpected rumble of thunder from outside startled him, causing a small hiccup to escape his lips in lieu of a scream. Woo-San quickly noticed Yeon-Jun flinching, his body tense in response to the thunderclap. At that moment, he realized it was neither his responsibility nor his place to provide comfort, so he stood up, offering a respectful bow to Yeon-Jun as he informed him of his departure. Despite Yeon-Jun's pleading eyes, a silent request for him to stay lingered in the air. Yet, they were not close enough for him to voice such a desire.

Woo-San slipped on his shoes and reached for his coat, ready to step out into the drizzling rain. As he opened the door, a gentle tug on his arm stopped him in his tracks. He turned around to find Yeon-Jun standing there, his head bowed slightly—a rare vulnerability on display. "I have some meat that's about to go bad," the message read, its voice drowned somewhat by the sound of the rain. "Would you like to have some ramen?"