Yi Jeong blew a cooling breath over his steaming porridge, thick orange liquid dripping off his spoon into the swirls of pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg below. The best porridge in Myeongdong the spunky waitress with pigtails had said, though Yi Jeong had yet to decide on the truth of that statement given he'd never tried the dish before. No. This restaurant held a different appeal for him.

The sun from the window drifted in, allowing buttery streams of sunshine to stain the worn wood table in a checkered pattern. He wasn't sure why he was here today. Perhaps it was the stress of the morning. Perhaps the warm interior of the little restaurant had been too inviting to resist on this cold morning. Lies. He flicked his blue-black hair off of his forehead and cupped his chin lazily in one hand, the spoon still forgotten in the other. Perhaps he'd hoped to catch a certain pair of warm brown eyes as they smiled and flashed about the room, their owner scratching little notes in her notepad…

hobakjuk

abalone porridge

Tea

He imagined she was the type to doodle little flowers on the corners of those pages when business was slow or mark fangs by the table with the ornery ahjussi who'd snapped at her for warning him his bowl was hot. There was no sight of her this morning, but he had time. He had nothing but time.

He smiled at the memory that flashed through his mind. It had been a glaringly bright morning that day when he'd stumbled through the shop's squeaky doors hung over and half asleep after a long night partying with the members of the F4. He wouldn't have overindulged on a normal night, but it had been New Year's Eve and the scene he had caught his father in earlier still rolled nauseatingly in his gut. The night had been long and the alcohol might as well have been water. The shop was small and bustling with people, many of whom were in a similar or worse state than Yi Jeong. It would have been chaotic if not for the young waitress milling back and forth among tables, smiling here and glaring there at tables.

He'd been fortunate enough to find himself on the receiving end of that glare as the girl turned in a huff, wagging a ladle at him. In his half-intoxicated state, he'd barked at her for water. Her face reddened slightly, taking in the handsome but disheveled figure. The meek bow/nod he expected didn't come. He'd made an attempt to smile hoping to disarm the glints of anger shooting from her eyes, but to his dismay, it seemed to have no effect. The girl had turned on her heel and disappeared to the other side of the restaurant, leaving him to get his own water.

He chuckled happily at the memory. The thought of the angry pout that had pursed her lips, how her sleek black ponytail had whipped behind her, the delicate movements of her hands as she served other patrons water. No sight of her was seen today though. Indeed, spunky ponytails seemed to be the only waitress working. A hint of disappointment snaked its way down his spine, his smile dropping.

Yi Jeong's phone rang. Woo Bin, likely wondering where he was.

Slipping some bills on the table he got up, answering the call as he headed towards the door. Hand outstretched to push the door open, he came to an abrupt stop at the figure blocking his path. A pair of startled chocolate eyes met his gaze. She was breathless, lips parted slightly and cheeks tinted pink with the cold kiss of wind at her back. Yi Jeong's smile returned. He didn't care that all his charisma had slipped into a puddle on the ground. Nor that he was shamelessly gawking at her, a schoolboy in love.

Plenty of girls he'd found pretty after a few drinks, but even in his completely sober state she was dazzling. Her sleek black hair cascaded around her shoulders, whipping in the breeze of

the still-open door. He almost reached out a hand.

She shifted on her feet, searching his face. Recognition glinted in her eyes and an eyebrow quirked up, "Water boy?"