Chapter Text
Felix has only been back in Seoul for two days, but Australia didn't quite let him go yet. It clung to him in soft ways, in the warmth still settled deep in his skin after two brilliant weeks of summer sunlight. It was there too, in the faint scent of sunscreen and ocean salt that still lingered on the clothes he unpacked in a rush the night before.
The trip was exactly what he needed, though he hadn't realized how exhausted he'd become until he stepped off the plane in Sydney. The moment he saw the familiar skyline and breathed in warm summer air, something inside him finally unclenched. The sight of familiar roads, bright skies, and his sisters smiling at him in the airport seemed to remind his whole body that rest was real, and that he was allowed to take it.
The first few days slipped by in laughters, salty air, and the kind of ordinary moments you don't realize you'll miss until they're no longer part of your routine. Felix sprawled across the couch while one of his sisters stole his phone to scroll through his camera roll. Later, he went grocery shopping with the other and ended up leaving with twice what they needed, because the two of them kept getting distracted in every aisle.
They've gone out for coffees in the mornings, taken drives with the windows down, visited places he used to know by instinct, and spent an afternoon by the water where the sun painted everything gold. His sisters teased him mercilessly for how sentimental he got whenever he came back, though they were no better, each of them looking at him with the softness that family wore when time pass too quickly.
By the end of the trip, the blonde was lighter than he'd been in months. Not because he finally caught up on sleep, but because he spent two weeks surrounded by people who loved him without asking for anything in return.
And although he was always a bit sad to leave, he boarded the return flight with a genuine smile, his mind and his heart full of happy memories he shared with his loved ones during these past two weeks.
Coming back to Seoul didn't really dim that feeling as much as he expected, mostly because there was so much here that he loved too. One of those things was waiting for him in the form of a pastel-colored ice cream shop tucked along a lively street. The afternoons there were always full of movement, conversations shared between friends or families, and the bright chime of the door opening every few minutes. Felix has been working there for nearly two years now. By now, he knew the rhythm of the place by heart and could recognize some customers by the sound of their laugh alone. He also understood that the job suited him in ways he never planned for, but had grown deeply grateful toward.
He liked how cheerful the shop felt, even on gray days. Under the lights, the glass display made every flavor look like a small work of art. Children pressed their palms to the counter in awe, while adults liked to pretend they were undecided, even when they obviously already picked a favorite. Felix has never been good at standing still. He liked talking to people, making them smile, remembering little things about them. Working there suited him far better than he'd ever expected. He spoke to regulars as if they were old neighbors, remembered their favorite orders without much effort, and slipped compliments into conversations with sincerity. He found genuine pleasure in watching someone’s face light up over something as simple as a cup of pistachio, strawberry, or salted caramel.
Of course, it helped, that he worked with Ningning, who was not only his coworker but also his best friend. Her presence made even the busiest shifts feel playful rather than exhausting, because between the two of them there was always a joke to exchange or a dramatic glance to share across the counter.
That morning, when Felix pushed open the shop door and the familiar cool sweetness of sugar and cream wrapped around him like a welcome. The first thing he saw was Ningning behind the register, and her entire face lit up so quickly that he barely had time to grin before she was already hurrying around the counter towards him.
She threw her arms around him with the enthusiasm of someone who spent the past two weeks collecting gossip specifically for this moment. Felix laughed as he hugged her back, his bag slipping off his shoulder a little. She immediately asked him a lot of questions about Australia, his sisters, the beaches, also the food. She wanted to know whether he cried at the airport like a baby, and if he brought her anything good. Felix answered all her interrogations the same breathless, happy way. They fell into laughter, smiling so much it almost hurt, and by the time Felix tied on his apron and stepped behind the counter again, it felt as if he never left at all.
He moved through the tasks easily, as he's used to it now. He went to check the stock, straightened stacks of cups, making sure the spoons were filled, greeting the first customers with his usual sunny self, and slipping back into the cadence of work so naturally that it barely required any thoughts.
It was somewhere in the middle of that familiar rhythm, while he was wiping down the counter between customers and half-listening to Ningning explain to a teenager why sampling seven flavors did not, in fact, count as “just deciding carefully”... that Felix let his gaze wander across the shop and noticed someone he was certain he would have remembered if he saw him before.
The man was seated alone at one of the tables by the window. The afternoon light rested over him so gently that the whole scene looked carefully arranged, like something meant to be admired. Felix had the feeling that when looked up , he wandered into a painting rather than the middle of his shift. In front of the man, was a cup of lemon vanilla ice cream, he supposed. Scattered across the table were brushes, tubes of paint, a notebook laid open flat, and a hand moving with focus across the page.
He was painting, actually painting, in the middle of the shop as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and there was something so effortlessly self-contained about him that Felix found himself staring before he even realized he was doing it. The blonde was curious and just couldn’t deny the fact that the stranger was, quite frankly, absurdly beautiful.
His features were delicate but striking, his posture loose with concentration. His fingers stained faintly with color, and every now and then he would lift his spoon, take a bite of the melting lemon vanilla, and return to his work with the same dreamy expression.
Felix was looking at the man for far too long when a sharp snap of fingers sounded beside him, and he jumped slightly, turning to find Ningning staring at him with all the smug delight of someone who just caught him committing a crime.
“You’re staring!” she said, not even trying to lower her voice enough to be kind. “I’m not,” Felix shot back immediately, which only made her expression grow more insufferable.
Ningning folded her arms and leaned a hip against the counter, glancing toward the window table before looking back at him with a grin that was half amusement, half approval. “He’s been coming here every day this past week. Same hour, same table, same order, and he paints for like one or two hours every single time. And i'm absolutely not complaining, because that dude is hot as fuck.”
Felix barked out a startled laugh and punched her lightly on the shoulder, scandalized more by her tone than her words, although she was not wrong and they both knew it. “It’s rare to hear you compliment a man like that.”
“Please,” Ningning said, tossing her hair back dramatically. “I might not be into men, but I admit when one looks delicious.”
She was called away almost immediately by a customer hovering near the display case with the helpless expression of someone about to ask for recommendations. Hence, Felix was left alone with his own curiosity, which now felt sharper simply because it has been named aloud. He glanced back toward the stranger almost despite himself, telling himself it was harmless, only to have the man look up at that exact moment, as if he sensed the attention on him.
Their eyes met with such precision that Felix felt heat rush straight into his cheeks, and he turned his head away so fast it almost made him dizzy. He pressed his lips together as if that would somehow erase the entire moment.
To give his hands something to do, he reached for the spoons and began cleaning them far more intensely than necessary, trying to calm his pulse while pretending he was deeply invested in cutlery. He did not dare look again for several long minutes, and when he finally did, it was only in fractured little glances stolen between customers. It was enough to confirm that the stranger was back to painting, but Felix could not stop wondering if he noticed anything at all.
A little while later, the after-lunch rush finally calmed. The shop settled into a quieter hum, only low conversations could be heard as well as the clink of spoons. The shop would be closing soon, and Felix looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching the register. The moment he realized who it was, his stomach dropped in a ridiculous way that only happened when the exact person you were trying not to think about suddenly appeared right in front of you.
It was him, of course, close enough now for Felix to notice details that distance blurred away before: the faint smudge of blue paint near the side of his hand, the clean lines of his face, the soft mole resting beneath his eye, his plump and glossy lips and the way his eyes seemed to hold onto people when he looked at them.
Felix lifted his gaze only halfway before it dipped again, suddenly very aware of himself, of the way his fingers were curled against the counter, of Ningning somewhere nearby almost certainly enjoying this far too much, and of the fact that his voice would probably betray him if he was not being careful.
“That’ll be it for today,” the brunette said, smiling, and the way he was speaking made the simple words feel more intimate than they had any rights to. “Can I pay?”
Felix nodded, then realized that nodding alone was not a proper customer service response and managed, a second too late, to find his voice. “Of course. The total will be 8,000 won.”
The stranger nodded in return and reached into his wallet, handing over the cash with calmness Felix envied deeply, though whatever composure he managed to gather nearly disappeared the moment their hands brushed. It was a small touch, accidental and brief by any reasonable standard, yet it seemed to linger a fraction longer than necessary. That was sufficient for Felix to glance up, for the stranger to still be looking at him when he did, and for something to settle in the air between them.
Felix smiled without meaning to, just a little, nervous and bright at once, and wet his lips quickly before counting out the change, hoping he did not look as affected as he felt. The stranger took it with that same half-smile still resting on his mouth, then tilted his head very slightly and said, while looking directly at him, “See you tomorrow?”
Felix blinked, startled not by the words themselves but by how naturally he said them, as if tomorrow was already decided. “Sure,” Felix answered, quieter than he would usually talk, but still smiling anyway.
The stranger’s expression deepened into something pleased, and before leaving, he gave Ningning a polite little bow that made her grin instantly in response. Then he turned, gathered his things, and walked out into the afternoon light, the door chiming softly behind him. The silence that followed didn’t last long because as soon as he left, Ningning spun towards Felix and burst into helpless laughter.
“Damn, Felix” she said, nearly stumbled over as she clutched the counter for support. “I'm pretty sure i've never seen you like that.”
Felix, still warm from the ears down and refusing to give her the satisfaction, focused very hard on aligning the cash in the register as if that were the most important task in the world. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said with all the dignity he could gather, which would have been much more convincing if his smile wasn't threatening to return all on its own.