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The café was quieter than usual that afternoon. Not empty—it was never empty—but toned down.
Conversations were hummed low and gentle, chairs scraped occasionally against the floor with a soft skrtt, and the steady hiss of the espresso machine filled the pauses in between.
Outside the windows, wind tugged leaves from branches one by one, sending them tumbling across the sidewalk in a cascade of red, gold and yellow.
Inside, everything felt warm. The air smelled of the faint scent of strawberry syrup, and the café seemed to be in its own bubble of comfort in the midst of the gusty breeze outside.
Tai sat at their usual table by the window, drowned in an impressive pile of textbooks, notebooks, and loose sheets of notes that he had absolutely not been reading.
He had been staring at the same sentence for quite a while.
He wasn’t sure how long.
Maybe five minutes.
Maybe ten.
Possibly a little longer.
Across from him, Rejoice leaned back lazily in his chair, one ankle hooked over the other, hoodie sleeves pushed up his forearms. He had his laptop open but wasn’t really using it, opting to occasionally type something before getting distracted by whatever playlist was playing through his headphones.
The soft yellow café lights hung low above them, casting a warm glow over the table. They illuminated a sea of stressed students, all cramming to pass their exams scheduled for next week.
They also illuminated the whole of Rejoice’s face.
That was the problem.
Tai’s eyes kept drifting back to the same place—
His freckles.
They dusted across the bridge of Rejoice’s nose and spread faintly over his cheeks, uneven and soft, like someone had accidentally scattered cinnamon there and forgot to brush it off.
Tai had noticed them the first time they met.
But noticing and studying were two different things.
Lately, he’d been doing the latter.
“You’re staring again.”
Tai blinked out of his daze, surprised as he looked upwards to meet Rejoice’s eyes, which hadn’t even moved up from his laptop.
“I’m not,” Tai said automatically, denying the accusation beingthrown his way. “I’m simply…uhhh…looking at the menu?”
“You’re absolutely staring. Even I know that the menu is online, and plus, didn’t you just place your order?”
Flustered that he had been caught, Tai tried to look down at his book.
“How do you even know?” Tai muttered, as he read from his biology book. “It’s not like I was being super obvious or anything”
Rejoice snorted quietly.
“Because you get this look.”
“What look?”
“The look where your eyebrows do that thing.” Rejoice vaguely gestured at his own face. “Like you’re trying to figure out a really complicated math problem but the answer just keeps hiding from you.”
Tai frowned.
“I don’t do that.”
“You totally do.”
“Do not.”
Rejoice finally glanced up, one corner of his mouth lifting as he reached for his strawberry oat milk matcha latte.
“So we’re also ignoring the fact that you’ve been on the same page for twelve minutes.”
Tai glanced down again.
“…I’m thinking,” Tai said weakly. “Really hard.” he sighed, rubbing at his temple, already so done with this conversation.
Rejoice watched him for a moment, amused, then leaned back further in his chair.
“So,” he said casually, “what are you actually looking at?”
Tai hesitated.
He could lie.
But he was stupidly bad at lying to Rejoice.
“…your freckles,” he admitted quietly.
Rejoice blinked. “My freckles?”
Tai nodded.
Rejoice leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on the table now, clearly entertained. “That’s a new one.”
Tai instantly regretted speaking. “You asked,” he muttered.
“I did,” Rejoice agreed. “I just wasn’t expecting that answer.”
Tai tried very hard to return his attention to his textbook.
Rejoice tilted his head slightly, studying him now with growing curiosity. “So what's so interesting about these gorgeous freckles of mine?”
Tai’s ears started turning pink. “They’re… distracting,” he whispered, keeping his voice low so others wouldn’t hear.
Rejoice laughed. Not a mean laugh–soft, caring. “Distracting?”
Tai nodded again, stubborn despite his embarrassment. “They change.”
Rejoice raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Yeah.”
Rejoice rested his chin in his hand, clearly entertained by the predicament Tai is in now. “Explain.”
Tai hesitated, but once he started talking, the words started tumbling out, as if Tai had locked them into a box and now they were finally let go, all spilling out in a cascade of words.
“In the sunlight they’re lighter,” he said quietly. “But under these lights they look warmer, like little drops of hot chocolate that just so happened to land on your face.”
Rejoice didn’t interrupt.
“And when you smile,” Tai continued, “they spread out more like they just grew legs and walked all over your face, leaving their muddy footprints behind.”
Rejoice’s expression softened a little as he took off his headphones, propping his head up to look deep into Tai’s eyes.
“But when you’re concentrating,” Tai added, nodding slightly toward the laptop, “they bunch up near your nose. It’s like whatever you do, your freckles will always follow.”
Rejoice stared at him. “You’ve been analyzing my face like it’s a freshly painted still life piece.”
Tai groaned and covered his face with his hands, blush coming back in full force as he realized how much he had just blabbered to Rejoice.
“Oh god, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Rejoice laughed again, softer this time. “No, no. Keep going. I’m rather offended that you don’t want to keep talking about my incredible freckles.”
“You’re just making fun of me,” Tai said, peeking through his fingers.
“I’m not,” Rejoice said, still smiling. “I’m fascinated by this.”
Tai lowered his hands slowly. “They’re just… nice,” he finished quietly.
Rejoice blinked. “Nice?”
Tai shrugged a little.“They make you look… smiley. Or warmer.”
For a moment, Rejoice didn’t say anything. Then, he leaned forward slightly across the table.
“You know,” he said gently, “no one’s ever complimented them before.”'
Tai’s eyebrows knit together. “Really?”
“Most people don’t even notice.”
Tai stared at him like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“That’s impossible. They stand out so much on your skin!”
Rejoice shrugged.
Tai looked thoughtful for a moment.
Then he reached across the table with his pencil. “Hold still.”
Rejoice raised an eyebrow. “…why? I love you, but if the way I go is being stabbed in the eye by my boyfriend, we’ll be having a few choice words after I drag you down with me.”
“Just hold still.”
Rejoice doesn’t move, his hot breath warming the entirety of Tai’s face as Tai leans towards him.
He carefully reached forward and lightly tapped the pencil near the bridge of Rejoice’s nose.
“One.”
Rejoice immediately starts laughing, hands gripping his stomach as he nearly tumbles to the floor. “You are not counting them,” he gasps in between breathes, face so red he looks like he is about to pass out from delight. "I can't believe you Tai."
“I am! Now hold still and quit laughing if you want the whole cafe to hear us.”
Tai tapped another.
“Two.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Tai ignored him and tapped two more freckles near his cheek.
“Three. Four.”
Rejoice caught his wrist gently.
Close like this, Tai could see the freckles even more clearly.
There were a lot more than he thought.
Rejoice loosened his grip but didn’t pull his hand away entirely.
“Well then,” he said gently, “you’re the expert. Keep going.”
Tai hesitated. Then, slowly, he leaned forward again.
This time he didn’t use the pencil.
He just looked.
Really, really looked.
There were freckles across the bridge of his nose. A few scattered near the cheekbones. One just barely visible near the corner of Rejoice’s crinkled eye.
Tai smiled a little at that one. “You have thirty-seven.”
Rejoice blinked.
“You actually counted?”
Tai nodded, very pleased with himself as he sat back down, remembering the map of the freckles until it was embedded into his memory.
Rejoice shook his head in disbelief, but Tai could tell that he was amused.
“You’re so ridiculous.”
Tai tilted his head.
“You love me.”
Rejoice didn’t argue with that. He could never argue with him.
Their textbooks sat forgotten between them as night crept ever so closer.
After a while of just existing, Rejoice finally nudged the biology textbook toward Tai.
“You know,” he said softly, “we do actually have an exam tomorrow. And I highly doubt that counting my thirty two—sorry—thirty seven freckles will do anything to help you.”
Tai sighed, already dreading the many hours of reading ahead of him.
“I know.”
But he didn’t look away from Rejoice.
And Rejoice didn’t look away either.
The café still hummed around them.
Leaves kept drifting past the window.
And the world outside their table kept moving, completely unaware that the two of them had quietly fallen back into their own small universe.