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Minho was out shopping some groceries. Usually Wookyung came along and pestered him to buy sweets like a child but tonight he had a meeting with his clients.
To be honest Minho felt a bit of relief. He didn't mind the younger man's company but sometimes Wookyung can be too much, like a clingy baby.
After finishing shopping, he decided to buy a cup of coffee from the nearby cafe. It's a bit chilly tonight and a warm cup of coffee would feel nice.
So he headed there to buy one. As the barista handed his drink, it started raining outside much to his surprise. The weather alert said no rain today and yet.
Minho didn't bring any umbrella, nor a car, as the shop was close to where they lived. Calling a cab for such short distance felt like overkill. So he decided to finish the coffee here inside.
The cafe is cozy and he found a seat for him near the window. It's mostly empty bar for a few customers. Minho didn't pay them no mind and opened his phone to scroll through the phone.
Nothing important is going on. So he wasn't paying attention to it either then suddenly he noticed a figure across him, two tables away, near the entrance.
Cheon Doona.
Minho stayed still for a moment, not knowing what to do. He probably stopped breathing too.
Red hair was short now, just like her university days but in a more mature style. Grey overcoat drizzled with rain drops. A bit tired but still beautiful like the day he last saw her, the time he was begging her to stay...
He also dreamt about her in his coma when he finally let go of her. The last dream he had about her.
Did that count as their last meeting?
Maybe not.
Minho suddenly felt very self conscious. Should he hide or ignore her? Or should he greet her?
Would she be happy to see him or simply ignore him?
Before he could decide what to do, Doona turned around and met his eyes.
Her gaze lingered for a second too long. Not startled. Not smiling. Just… still. Like she was trying to confirm whether it was really him or not.
Minho also didn't know what to say. How should one react upon meeting their ex after a bad breakup?
It was easier when he first saw her at the University after seven years. He was more sure about his feelings. Anger, bitterness, hurt, longing.
But now, he felt none of those.
Minho didn't know whether to be relieved or sad. Doona probably felt the same or maybe she didn't feel anything at all.
Doona asked him never to see her again and till tonight, he had honored her wish.
But tonight's rain had made him break his promise.
"Hi." The word left his mouth before he could blink. A small smile spreading across his face.
Doona stared at him for a moment than turned away.
Minho didn't expect that. But he understood. She did say that she wanted to surround herself with people that wanted to see her happy.
Believe it or not, Minho wanted to see her happy too.
Now, Minho felt like an idiot. Just because he had let go of the past, didn't mean Doona did too. She still probably resented him for hurting her.
Or maybe she didn't even recognize him. It had been a long time after all.
"You look well." Doona's sudden voice startled him. He looked up and found her standing near his table, holding a cup of coffee.
"Cheon Doona?!" Minho didn't expect her to acknowledge him, let alone come near him.
"Yes, the one and only." She said as she took off her coat and sat across him. Her voice is much deeper than before. Probably due to chronic smoking. "How long has it been? Twenty years?"
"Twenty five." Minho corrected her.
"Huh." She only said while taking a sip for her cup. "Time indeed flies by."
They don't talk for a while. Probably both finding words to say that didn't convey things they didn't mean.
The rain tapped gently on the glass beside them. Inside, the coffee shop hummed with low music.
"I didn't expect to see you again." She put down her cup and looked directly at him. "To be honest, I thought you were dead. You basically disappeared without a trace."
"I didn't know you were looking for me."
"I wasn't." She leaned back, folding her arms. "But Seoul isn't that off a big city to never come across you in twenty five years."
"Well, I wasn't exactly living here for the last two decades. I just recently came back."
"You moved out of Seoul?"
Minho moved out of Korea entirely. Wookyung didn't want to stay here anymore. He wanted a fresh start in the USA and Minho wanted to run away from his past. So when Wookyung proposed to leave the country, he said yes.
They had returned to Korea recently to visit Wookyung's mom. She was bed ridden and wanted to see her only child.
It's been a month and neither of them felt the rush to go back to the states.
"Yes. Thought a change of place would do me good." Minho replied without mentioning his stay overseas. He didn't want to open that chapter of his life to her.
How was he supposed to explain that anyway?
"It clearly did. You seem to do very well for yourself." She gestured his overall getup— clothes and wristwatch from exclusive brands.
Yeah, he had been doing well, thanks to Cha Wookyung's money and generosity.
Suddenly Minho felt very self conscious, the same old insecurity creeping up inside him, making him bitter, wanting to lash out like before.
But he's too old for that. Way too old.
"You don't seem so bad yourself either." Minho smiled. "The new haircut suits you."
Doona raised one eye brow, fingers brushing the cropped end of the hair. "It's not new. I'm wearing it for six years."
Minho winced a bit. "Oh. Guess I'm way behind."
Doona didn't say anything and looked at him again, maybe trying to reconcile the version of him that cried on the bathroom floor, begging her to stay with the man sitting in front of her now, polished and quiet and hard to read.
"You’ve changed,” she said softly. “In a good way. You seem... calmer now.”
Minho smiled, small and self-deprecating. “Can’t exactly act like I did in my twenties. I’m an old man now.”
“Does your body know you’re old?” she asked, tilting her head. “Not even a single wrinkle on your face."
Minho blushed a bit. He wasn't unaware of his beauty. People often commented how young he looked for his age, even for a Korean.
As a result, Wookyung would become too possessive of Minho, clutching him a bit tighter like a dragon hoarding gold. It didn't help when people mistook him being younger than Wookyung.
But it didn't phase Minho.
Yet hearing the same thing from Doona, made him feel oddly shy. Like he was supposed to look more mature instead of looking younger than his age. But before he can make excuse for his crime, Doona spoke up. "Married life suits you I guess."
Minho was taken off guard for a moment. Then he realized she was gesturing to the platinum ring on his right hand.
It wasn't a formal marriage. They didn't set up wedding or went to the court to legalize it. Minho didn't want that.
So they exchanged their vows by the sea, as they walked together holding hands. They were the only witness there. No fanfare, no cheer, just the two off them.
Then one-day Minho bought those rings, with his own money. Wookyung cried like a little child when Minho slid it across Wookyung's finger.
Minho was pretty sure Wookyung would have cried the same if he bought him paper rings instead, happily accepting Minho's gift like it's the most precious thing in the world.
"I suppose it does." Minho's voice was soft, affectionate, as he stared at his ring, thumb brushing the smooth band.
"I guess you tied your knots with Haesol too." Minho looked up again. There's no accusation or jealousy in his voice.
"Oh this is not a wedding ring." Doons waved it off. "Marriage is not for me. And Haesol and I ...are history now."
"Oh... sorry to hear that."
"Don't be." Doona brushed it off.
They fell quiet again.
Even the rain seemed to follow their lead, softening into a misty drizzle. The tap against the windows gentler now, fading into the low hum of the cafe.
“I’m not unhappy, if you’re wondering,” she said after a pause.
"I’m not,” Minho replied, eyes still fixed on the blurred outlines of passing cars and streetlights. “I don’t think I have the right to be concerned about you. Nor do I think you want me to be."
He finally looked back at her, staring at those amber eyes. "But I do genuinely wish you to be happy. To be surrounded by people that want you to be happy."
Doona stared at him for a moment then she smiled. Genuinely smiled.
Warm, unguarded, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You really have grown up, Sunbae.”
Minho froze.
That word.
It hit deeper than he expected.
Sunbae.
He hadn’t heard it in years...not in that tone, not from her. Not with such soft affection.
And with that single, simple word, Doona dug up something inside him he thought he’d long buried.
Longing.
Not the consuming, reckless kind. Not the messy, desperate one that used to drown them both.
But something older. Quieter. Like a sealed-up box in his chest had been nudged open, and the scent of a long-forgotten flower wafted out.
He looked at her again.
And that feeling washed over him—familiar but different.
Like a wave that had softened at the edges but still remembered how to pull.
Can anyone truly get over their first love?
Can anyone truly forget it?
Minho didn’t think so.
Maybe it changes shape. Maybe it settles into the corners of your life where it can’t hurt you anymore. But it never really leaves. It stays tucked in the sound of a voice, in a certain laugh, in an old nickname.
He smiled faintly, blinking once to ground himself. "Sounds like a compliment."
"It is. But it's not rare from me. Is it?"
“No." Minho agreed without protest. It was he who was miser, not her. "Yet I’ll cherish it forever.”
Doona chuckled. "Now that is rare to hear."
A sudden familiar wave of guilt washed over him. "Doona I—"
"Don't." She stopped him, still smiling softly.
"There's no need. Neither of us is guilt free. So let's leave the past where it should be. And just enjoy the coffee." She picked up her cup and took a slow sip.
Minho stared at her for a moment, then silently followed her example.
Outside, the sky had begun to clear. The streetlight reflections shimmered on the wet pavement, and a breeze stirred the hanging cafe sign, as if to signal something had finally settled.
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"Hmm, something smells good." Wookyung’s arms wrapped around Minho’s waist from behind, his chin resting lightly on Minho’s shoulder.
"It's the same old recipe." Minho continued to set plates on the table while leaning into the younger man's touch.
Wookyung smiled against his skin. "Your food smells better when you're happy."
"Just had a cup of coffee. That's all."
"Must be a very good one."
"It was."
Wookyung then kisses his neck. "How about you take me with you next time?"
"...I will."
~Fin~