Between A and B C23

Chapter 23

The whole thing happened so suddenly I couldn’t even dodge. I just reflexively closed my eyes, sitting still, when a harsh, sickly cough, like that of a patient with lung disease, burst out beside me.

“Cough, cough! Cough!”
“……”
“Cough! Ah, I’m sorry, cough, cough! Sunbae-nim, I’m sorry, cough!”
“……”

I slowly opened my eyes, which had been tightly shut, and raised a hand to wipe roughly at the area around them. Fortunately, not much had splattered, and thankfully none of it had gotten into my eyes, so there was no stinging pain.

“Cough, cough!”

Woojin’s face had turned bright red as he clamped a hand over his mouth and kept coughing. With his other hand, he reached toward me, stomping his feet in place, looking the picture of frantic apology.

“Did it go down the wrong way? It’s fine, just sit down for now.”

I wiped off the spilled coffee with my hand, but Woojin, still restless, suddenly tried to wipe my face with his own clothes.

“Cough, cough!”
“No, I said it’s fine. Sit down. Sit.”

I finally stood as well, forcing him back into his seat before searching for tissues. Not seeing any, I reached to call the staff—but the shop seemed completely empty. Left with no choice, I sat back down and pressed the bell. Woojin, slightly calmer now, spoke to me.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose, I think… something was wrong with the drink…”

He looked as if he didn’t know what to do with his own hands. His eyes brimmed with tears from coughing so hard. Saying once more that it was fine, I took Woojin’s coffee and drank a sip.

“Sunbae-nim!”

He reacted as if he’d just seen a ghost. Startled, I pulled the glass away from my lips. Woojin’s face had gone stricken, almost to the point of tears.

“Wh—why are you…?”
“You said something was wrong with it… But it tastes fine?”

I tilted my head, taking another sip. To me, it was the same plain iced Americano I’d had before—what exactly was the problem?

Just then, a different staff member than the one earlier approached the table.
“You… rang?”

Maybe it was the sight of the table, or my state, but the employee’s voice wavered.
“Ah, could we get some tissues?”
“Yes, right away.”

They returned with a large bundle of tissues, wiping down the table and handing me some for my face. Woojin clutched one tightly, then reached out, dabbing lightly at my cheekbone.

“Here too…”
“Ah, thanks.”
“I’m so sorry. I never spit drinks out like that, but I was just so startled…”
“But the coffee’s fine. Was it strange for you?”

I gave him a puzzled look. Woojin blinked.
“It tasted fine?”
“Yeah, just like any normal coffee.”

Woojin regarded the drink with sheer disbelief before cautiously taking a sip himself.

“……”
“……”

This time he managed not to spray it, but as soon as the liquid touched his lips, his eyes squeezed shut and his fists clenched tight. From the way his lashes trembled, already wet, it was obvious his palate didn’t agree with mine. He lowered the glass with a grim resolve, covering his mouth with a trembling hand.

“…Was it the bitterness?” I asked tentatively.
“Eh…”

Even his answer was garbled, the taste clearly still overwhelming. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked wounded, and said with genuine misery,
“Isn’t this poison?”
“……”
“I don’t mean your taste is strange, Sunbae-nim, but… this is just… wrong…”
“……”

I studied him in silence before carefully asking,
“Then why did you order this?”
“W-what? Well… isn’t it supposed to taste different? Last time I had it, it wasn’t like this…”
“You added extra shots.”
“……”

At my words, Woojin inhaled, exhaled, repeated it again, then finally let his shoulders droop.

“What do you usually drink, then?”
“…Just… water…”
“Water? You come to cafés and drink water? Only water?”
“No, that’s not it…”
“……?”

His mumbling was so vague it made me exasperated. He didn’t even seem to drink coffee usually, so why order it, only to choke and splutter like that?

“I’ll just drink water,” he finally declared, voice small but firm.

That only frustrated me more.
“No, I mean, what do you normally drink?”

After glancing down, then back up at me, he mumbled,
“…tte…”
“What?”
“Latte…”
“Latte? Caffè latte?”

He didn’t answer again, lips sealed tight. It was like coaxing a child into confessing. How had such a timid kid survived the idol world at all? Perhaps this was why his company pushed a mysterious concept. Honestly, maybe that was the smartest option.

“So you drink caffè lattes? Want me to order you one?”

I asked slowly, step by step. Woojin shook his head, answering more clearly this time.
“No, sweet potato…”
“Sweet potato latte?”
“Yes…”

I froze for a moment at the unexpected answer, then quietly pressed the bell. A different staff member appeared, eyeing Woojin curiously.
“One hot sweet potato latte, please.”
“Would you like that iced?”

I instinctively nodded, but Woojin interjected softly,
“Hot.”
“Ah, hot sweet potato latte. Certainly.”

As soon as the staff left, I asked,
“Better now? The coughing?”
“Yes… I’m sorry. I’ll buy you new clothes.”

Looking down, I saw coffee spots staining my white T-shirt.
“It’s fine. A wash will take care of it.”
“I’ll order you a new walnut pie, too. It splattered on that…”
“No, it didn’t. Look, nothing got on it.”

Even if some had, it would only have been a tiny fleck—not enough reason to throw it away. I reached for a bite, but Woojin suddenly grabbed the plate and lifted it high, blurting,
“Don’t eat that!”
“It’s fine, nothing’s on it. See?”
“No. I’ll get you a new one.”

His tone was so firm it made me falter.
“What, are you rolling in money or something?”

He looked caught out, falling silent, and I belatedly realized: he probably was rolling in money. Embarrassed, I coughed into my fist and stabbed the cream puff instead, popping a mouthful in.

“Then you eat it.”

The shell was thin and crisp, filled to bursting with custard cream. It was good, but far too sweet for my taste. I swallowed quickly, washing it down with the last of my coffee, crunching an ice cube between my teeth. Woojin still sat there, holding up the untouched walnut pie.

I was debating whether to force myself to eat the brownie when the staff returned with the hot sweet potato latte.
“Here’s your sweet potato latte. Careful, it’s hot.”
“And another whole walnut pie, please. Take this away.”
“Pardon? May I ask why? It doesn’t look touched…”

I almost dropped my fork. He really was reordering it. The staff, bewildered but polite, nodded at Woojin’s insistence.
“Something splashed on it.”
“Ah, understood. One whole walnut pie, then.”

And just like that, the untouched slices were carried away. Truly unbelievable. But since it clearly made him uncomfortable, I let it go.

Woojin wrapped both hands around his new mug, fidgeting with his fingers before sipping carefully. Unlike with the “poisonous” coffee, this time his face relaxed, comfort spreading through his features.

“Good?” I asked.
“Yes. Would you like to try?”

His wide-eyed offer made me pause. I was about to refuse, but his expression was so happy it piqued my curiosity. Reaching over, I took the mug and sipped.

“…It’s good.”

For the first time in my life, I tasted sweet potato latte—soft, sweet, and nutty, like a freshly roasted sweet potato just peeled from its skin.