10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8TsIxwFndi
The chime above the café door rang softly as Ren stepped out into the golden haze of evening.
His shift had ended just minutes ago, but his heart hadn't caught up yet. It still fluttered somewhere between the counter where Ric had waited with that warm half-smile… and the note he’d left behind.
A simple one.
> “For the boy who smells like cinnamon and reads poetry with his eyes. - Ric”
Ren had folded it slowly, slipping it into the inside pocket of his worn canvas bag like it might shatter if held too tightly.
Outside, the streetlights flickered to life, one by one, casting soft halos across the sidewalk. The sky wore streaks of pink and amber, and the breeze carried the faint smell of roasted peanuts and rain-dampened leaves.
As Ren adjusted his bag and began walking home, he didn’t realize he was smiling to himself. Not until Mint caught up with him near the crosswalk.
"You look like someone just gave you a puppy,” she said, linking her arm through his casually.
Ren blinked, startled, then laughed softly. “It’s nothing.”
Mint tilted her head. “Nothing’s name is Ric?”
Ren’s smile froze, then turned shy. He didn’t deny it.
They walked in silence for a bit. Mint didn’t press. She never did. That was her gift—being present without pushing. It made people speak when they didn’t plan to.
“…He’s not like I thought,” Ren finally said.
“Hm?”
“I thought he was just… popular. Loud. A flirt.”
Mint giggled. “He is a flirt. But he’s not just that.”
Ren hesitated. “No. He’s not.”
He remembered how Ric listened without interrupting. How he noticed the little things—like the cinnamon. Like Ren’s habit of chewing on his straw when nervous. Like the way he always touched the edge of his notebook when thinking.
“He asked what my favorite sound was,” Ren said quietly.
Mint smiled. “What did you say?”
“…I didn’t answer. I just looked at him.”
Her steps slowed. “And what did he do?”
Ren's voice dropped, almost embarrassed. “He said... ‘Your eyes sound like a love song.’”
Mint gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “I’m dying. Dead. Flatlined. Please say you’re writing this into one of your poems.”
Ren just blushed and shook his head. But her words echoed in his mind as they reached his gate.
---
🌙 Later that night…
Ric lay on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, the other scrolling through his camera roll.
Almost every photo he’d taken that day was of Ren.
Not obviously. Never directly.
A blurry shot of Ren behind the counter, smiling at a customer.
The corner of his notebook, scribbled with crooked little stars.
The foam heart on top of his coffee.
Ric stared at them one by one, zooming in, then out again, like maybe looking closer would explain why his chest tightened every time he thought of Ren's voice saying "It's just coffee."
His phone buzzed. A message from Kao.
> 🌀 “You skipped dinner, simp.”
Ric smiled.
> ☀️ “Busy. Heart got kidnapped. Ransom pending.”
> 🌀 “I’m throwing your camera in the pool.”
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGQ0OuNBzQz
Ric laughed to himself, but something in him stayed quiet… thoughtful.
He got up, walked to the window, and leaned against the frame.
Outside, the city hummed quietly. Somewhere in another part of it, Ren might’ve been reading. Maybe writing. Maybe lying awake wondering why a boy like Ric noticed every version of him.
The quiet ones. The soft ones. The versions even Ren himself didn’t always understand.
“We’re not just friends, are we?” Ric whispered to the night.
And the wind didn’t answer—just carried the scent of cinnamon and rain through his open window.
---
🧃 Meanwhile at Ren’s House
In the small upstairs room, Ploy snored softly on her floor mattress, curled up with her stuffed dinosaur.
Ren sat at his desk with his glasses perched low, pencil dancing slowly across a blank page.
He wrote:
> Your eyes sound like a love song I’ve never heard, but always remembered.
And when you look at me, I feel like I belong somewhere.
He stopped. Read it again. Then folded the page, slipped it into a journal, and whispered to himself—
“…Why do you keep making me feel like this?”
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