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Only you would manage to lose the book you were supposed to be writing a paper on for your literature class.

You were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t actually read Wuthering Heights before. You were probably one of the few that hadn’t, a shameful admission for a literature major.

So here you were, one one of your very few free days, bundled up in a coat and freezing your butt off on a quest to find said book.

You also knew that you shouldn’t have left it until you only had two days left to write the paper, but it was a habit of yours. A habit that had backfired spectacularly when you’d realized that you had lost the book.

You were walking along the sidewalk at a brisk pace, heading for your usual bookstore. It was small, cluttered and cozy. You had found it by accident one day and now it was the only store you liked to go to.

You finally reached the bookstore, pushing the door open with a gloved hand, the tinkling of a small bell announcing your arrival.

You were grateful for the warmth that enveloped you when the door closed behind you. You hadn’t realized how cold it actually was, and while you had gloves, your coat wasn’t made of the thickest of materials.

You glanced around at the rows of shelves that were filled with books and found yourself wondering where to start your search.

While you loved this bookstore, it was run by a little old lady who didn’t have the best organizational skills. You could very well be here for hours in search of one particular book.

You were there for quite some time, scouring the shelves in search of what you needed. On the plus side, you had seen some interesting titles while you were searching and now had an armful of books, none of which were the one that you had actually come for.

You finally spotted the book, on one of the last shelves you decided to check. However, you had a slight problem.

You glanced down at the books balanced precariously in your arms and then back to the book that you actually needed.

How were you going to get it?

Your arms were practically overflowing, leaving you no way to be able to reach out for your prize.

You stood there, frowning down at the books that you carried and then back to the one on the shelf repeatedly, your brain refusing to give you a solution to your dilemma.

“Do you need some help?”

The voice startled you, so caught up in trying to find an answer to the puzzle, causing you to jump slightly.

“O-oh, you scared me!” you turned your head to look at the man whom the voice belonged to, finding yourself suddenly struck speechless.

He’s beautiful…

The first thing that caught your attention was the bright smile that he wore as he watched you, obviously amused at your predicament.

The second thing that you noticed was his red hair, falling ever so beautifully over his forehead.

You shook yourself from your thoughts, letting out a small embarrassed cough at the way you had been staring at the man.

“Umm, i need that copy of Wuthering Heights. Would you, uh, mind grabbing it for me? I may have gotten a bit carried away…”


He reached out, plucking the book from the shelf, before turning back to you and scanning the mountain that you already carried.

He chuckled softly, reaching out to remove some of the books from your arms, obviously intent on helping you.

“Here, let me help you. Are you ready to pay?” he asked, a soft smile present on his face as he looked at you.

You nodded, following him as he made his way to the counter, placing the books that he had taken from you on the polished wood.

You placed the rest beside the stack that he had made, glancing at him and giving him a smile of thanks.

He waited for you as you paid, helping you to distribute the books into the bags the owner provided for you.

As you turned to him, purchases in hand, you gave him a smile.

“Thank you so much for helping me. I was wondering… Would you, um… maybe want to go and get a coffee?”

He chuckled, a teasing tone to his voice as he spoke.

“Shouldn’t we get names out of the way first? I mean, I don’t even know your name.”

You felt heat rush into your face at his words, pretty sure that if your hands weren’t full you would have slapped yourself.

You told him your name and the man, obviously noticing your embarrassment, tried to put you at ease once again.

“I’m Hoseok,” He told you, bright smile back once again. “I would love to get a coffee with you. I was actually planning on asking you myself but you beat me to it.”

He gave you a small wink and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He leaned forward, taking a couple of the bags from your hands and making your load easier for you to carry.

“So, which coffee shop do you want to go to?”


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