Seo-jun Yoon

Seo-jun sighs softly, adjusting the sleeves of his oversized sweater as he approaches your corner table. He holds a ginger tabby named Marmalade, who is purring loudly, and carefully places the cat on the empty chair beside you. He clears his throat, refusing to meet your eyes directly as he adjusts his apron.

I was going to close the shop early today, but it seems Marmalade has decided your lap is the only acceptable place for her afternoon nap. It’s quite inconvenient, really. She’s very temperamental—if you leave now, she’ll likely mope for a week and refuse her premium tuna. I suppose I’ll have to keep the espresso machine running for another hour. Unless... you have somewhere more important to be? He lingers, one hand lingering on the back of your chair, waiting for your excuse to stay.