Dogyeong swept his gaze across the inside of the café as he spoke. True to what he’d said, unlike last time, there was a line of people outside Tesoro, and the interior was already packed. His eyes drifted naturally to the cake showcase.
Huiwon noticed Dogyeong’s gaze lingering on the showcase and tensed for a moment.
“Pretty.”
A brief compliment from Dogyeong — but Huiwon knew better. That wasn’t a compliment. If anything, it was his way of couching disappointment. He’d probably been let down by the cakes that were pretty but uniform. The flaw Huiwon was already aware of wasn’t something Dogyeong would have missed either.
“Would you like to try one?”
At Huiwon’s offer, Dogyeong gave a faint smile and shook his head, as expected. He stepped a little closer to the cake showcase and only skimmed the brief descriptions written in front of each cake with his eyes. Then he looked up.
“Can you make me a coffee?”
Huiwon pressed his lips together and nodded. He prepared a warm vanilla latte tailored to Dogyeong’s taste and set it in front of him. There were no empty seats inside the café, so Dogyeong received his coffee across the counter, with Huiwon standing on the other side.
“The coffee’s good.”
He took a sip of the vanilla latte and smiled quietly — but that word, the coffee’s, made Huiwon’s chest tighten. His heart felt heavy.
Having learned how to make cakes from Dogyeong, Dogyeong’s evaluations frightened him. The fact that he hadn’t directly pointed out any flaws made it worse. He’d walked into the café without so much as touching the cake, but he had read the brief descriptions — so he would have had a rough sense of what they tasted like.
He must have decided he didn’t even need to try them. The thought was bitter.
“I went to Deep Red yesterday, for the first time in a while.”
Dogyeong shifted to a different topic just as Huiwon kept stealing glances at the showcase, unable to pull his eyes away. But this particular topic only made Huiwon’s heart feel heavier. He could already guess what was coming next.
“You……. It seems like something complicated happened with you.”
Dogyeong lifted the mug from his lips. Good vanilla beans. In the middle of everything, he was still analyzing the coffee, peering into the mug.
His mouth kept going dry. Huiwon didn’t want to be reminded of that night. He didn’t want Dogyeong to find out about any of it — how foolishly he’d let himself be drawn in by the simple fact of being called a friend, or the humiliating things someone had said to him.
People only ever want to show the parts of their lives that are going well.
“If something like that happens, just talk to hyung. Don’t bottle it all up on your own.”
Without saying much in return, Huiwon grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and gave a small nod.
“Do you want to stay for dinner, hyung?”
“No. Dinner’s with my partner. I just stopped by on the way today. Because of what happened at Deep Red yesterday too.”
Thanks for the coffee. Dogyeong tilted his head back and drained the coffee in one go, then set the mug down. Huiwon hurried out from behind the counter to see him off, stepping up to stand in front of him.
“Um……. Hey, hyung.”
“…….”
“What’s your shop’s new spring menu?”
Huiwon squirmed his feet after asking, feeling small, like he’d been caught cheating.
Dogyeong glanced down at Huiwon’s white sneakers, then let his gaze travel upward to the round crown of his bowed head. There was something painful about the way he always seemed to make himself smaller out of habit. He’d been like this the very first time they’d met. And his height…… seemed to have stopped growing right where it was, too.
“Huiwon.”
“…….”
“I taught you how to make cakes, and I invested in Tesoro — not so you could copy me.”
I’m heading out. Dogyeong said a brief goodbye and placed his hand on the café door. He had already started to push it open when he turned back around and gave Huiwon’s small shoulders a gentle pat.
“And take care of yourself. Your eyes are red. You’re not in good shape — do you really think the cakes are going to turn out well like this?”
After Dogyeong left, Huiwon tried to force his sluggish mind to work. But the harder he tried, the more suffocating it became, his head foggy as though filled with mist. Because he wasn’t feeling well, he’d been making uncharacteristic mistakes throughout the day.
[Do you want to get dinner tonight?]
[The weather’s nice.]
When he picked up his phone, which he’d pushed aside in the bustle, there were messages from Kang Hyeonho. Messages that had arrived over two hours ago.
Only then did Huiwon glance out the window. Things he hadn’t noticed — too on edge lately to pay attention — came into view. The pastel-colored clothes signaling the arrival of spring. Flower buds forming on the trees. The warm sunlight that reached all the way into the café hinted at the gentle temperature of a spring day.
— It’ll be dark by tonight, you won’t even see any flowers.
Huiwon sent his reply and pulled an espresso shot. He needed caffeine to wake himself up and sugar to replenish his energy.
He added milk to the freshly pulled shot, stirred in homemade vanilla syrup made from ground vanilla beans, packed it with ice, and started drinking while scrolling through the message thread with his eyes.
He’d replied over two hours late, but Kang Hyeonho responded quickly.
[Were you thinking about seeing flowers with me?]
He nearly spat out the vanilla latte he was drinking. Huiwon wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, then pressed his thumb down firmly and typed back a reply. He’d only sent that message about flowers because he’d been looking at flower buds just moments before — it had slipped out without thinking.
— No, I wasn’t. I’m just here for food.
[I’ll head over when you close up (smiling emoticon)]
The smiling emoticon tacked at the end brought a clear image of Kang Hyeonho grinning. Huiwon set his phone down and flipped it face-down.
In a remarkably short amount of time, that man had managed to be thoroughly irritating.
Kang Hyeonho showed up at Café Tesoro right as Huiwon was closing. Over a white t-shirt, he wore a light denim jacket, paired with black cotton slacks — he didn’t look like someone who’d just come from work. More like a layabout.
“Aren’t you busy? Don’t bad guys usually come out more at night?”
“It’s been a bit quiet lately.”
“I pay my taxes diligently, so don’t go slacking off.”
Hyeonho actually laughed out loud at that — a full, hearty laugh. Huiwon’s brow creased at the booming sound. Does he think I’m joking?
“Everyone says that when they find out I’m a public servant. But there’s something funny about hearing it from you. I work hard, you know. Look at this — I even got scraped up today.”
Hyeonho bent down and rolled up the hem of his pants to show off his injury. On his firm, tanned shin there was a fresh red scrape.
Huiwon wanted to say who asked, and what does that have to do with me, but truthfully, he was a little curious. Did detectives, like in movies and dramas, take down gangsters with their bare hands and roll across the ground chasing after murderers? Was that how he’d gotten hurt?
“……Did some thug hit you?”
Huiwon asked with his eyes cast downward, feigning indifference, and Hyeonho blew a puff of air toward the scrape — not even touching it — and answered.
“No. The team leader. Said there’s been no progress on the investigation.”
Ah — getting hit in slippers would’ve hurt less, but he just had to be wearing dress shoes.
The café was quiet enough that Hyeonho’s low, muttered grumbling came through to Huiwon’s ears with perfect clarity.
Hope it doesn’t leave a scar.
Another murmured aside — and Huiwon nearly burst out laughing, just barely catching himself by biting down on his lower lip.
Huiwon had a sharp eye from all his time making cakes, and the brief glance he’d gotten at Hyeonho’s shin showed not just today’s fresh scrape but a scattering of bruises around it too. Some had been left on different days — some vivid and dark, others faded and pale.
It wasn’t just his shin. His hands and forearms were also marked with small scratches and scars. The irony of worrying about yet another scar forming in the middle of all that wasn’t lost on Huiwon.
Either way, Huiwon pulled out some antiseptic ointment and a bandage from the small drawer next to the coffee machine. He’d kept emergency supplies on hand for burns and cuts — he’d never imagined they’d be used for this, but — “Put this on.”
“Huh?”
Hyeonho, who had been bent over examining his scrape, straightened up. He looked back and forth at the ointment and bandage suddenly thrust toward him, then took them, his round eyes curving upward into a smile.
“Thanks.”
