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I hated mornings. But ever since Masa moved into the apartment next door a year ago, they didn’t feel as heavy anymore.
"You're always half-asleep when you open the door" he laughed one chilly morning, holding two cups. Oh God he looks so damn good. I hid my face because he might see my face burning "Thought I'd bring your usual, milk and coffee. Extra sugar, just how you like it."
I blinked, still sleepy, dressed in a hoodie and mismatched socks but I don't mind. I became more comfortable around him. "You're too cheerful for 6 a.m. What's in that cup of yours? Energy drink?"
He just smirked and handed me the coffee. "Just black. I like my coffee like I like my mornings... quiet but intense."
I rolled my eyes at him but I couldn't help a small smile tugging my lips.
Every morning, he kept showing up. Sometimes with breads, sometimes with stories about his training and schedule. He's an artist and he have a group, Ballistik Boyz. Always with that crooked smile, deep dimple and his chocolate long hair that curled slightly at the ends made my chest flutter.
I grew a little crush on him. Just a little. Who wouldn't?
He once said I reminded him of his highschool friends.. And I don't have any friends outside work that’s why we clicked. The entire floor of this apartment was just us, so our hangout became the narrow stairwell between our doors. That tiny spot had seen shared laughter, yawns, coffee, and quiet yaps over the months. Bringing me his freshly brewed coffee became his routine.
“You know” he said as we sat on the steps between our apartments “you and me... we’re kinda like milk and coffee.”
I tilted my head, curious and confused. “What? because I’m sweet and you’re bitter?” sometimes he's unpredictable.
He chuckled, looking sideways at me. “No, because you soften me.”
Haaaa!???? What did he just say?
I stared at him, stunned. That was the first time Masa said something that made the air feel warmer.
He looked away, pretending to sip his drink. “We blend well, that’s all I’m saying.”
?????????
There was a long pause. What the hell? Why all of a sudden he became like this? You better stap Masahiro😭
The air between us quiet, warm. I sipped my coffee, wondering if he could hear how loud my heart was beating
I stared at him after.
He looked back, holding my gaze this time. “You soften the bitter taste. Make me better.”
And for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
"Masa..." I whispered, unsure what I was even trying to say.
I shook my head, trying to look away, but before I could, he leaned just a little closer, his shoulder brushing against mine on the step. “Can I try something?”
My heart skipped. “What?”
His free hand gently touched my jaw, barely there. I-i can't breathe with his sudden act“If you hate it, push me away.”
Before I could even answer, he leaned in.
And kissed me.
Hsgstahajsjsjsjsj!!!!!!!!
It was quiet... like him in the mornings. Warm. Simple..
His lips were soft, just like his voice when he told me I softened him. Just like the way he brought coffee without being asked. Just like the way he always listened, even when I wasn’t talking.
He pulled back slightly, just enough for his breath to brush over my lips.
“Well?” he whispered, eyes searching mine.
"Ha?" I'm hanging. Lagging.
"You okay?" He asked while staring at me. Oh God, Those eyes!
"No"
He blinked. “What?”
“I—” I broke into a nervous laugh. “You just kissed me"
"Want to try it again?" Whattt!!??
I choked on air. “Ha?” Is he really serious asking me this??
He leaned in and stared at my lips.
“Masahiro” I warned, heat creeping into my cheeks. “I will throw this coffee at you.”
He leaned closer, smirking. “Do it. I’ll still kiss you.”
“You’re funny.”
“And you’re red.”
“Shut up!”
He laughed softly, then his hand lifting to tuck my hair behind my ear, fingers grazing my cheek.
“You’re cute when you’re red" he murmured, voice dipping lower.
I looked up at him... eyes wide, heart pounding, and I knew he was going to kiss me again before he even moved.
This one wasn’t gentle like the first.
He leaned in slow, but the kiss was firmer. Pressed with more certainty, lips warm and tasting faintly of coffee.. just a little bitter, just a little sweet. Like us. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. Just… right.. He tilted his head, deepening it just enough to make my knees weaken a little, just enough to make me grip his shirt for balance feeling the heat of his chest underneath.
And then.. he smiled against my lips.
“Still want to throw the coffee?” he whispered, breath brushing my skin.
“Shut up" I whispered back, completely breathless.
He leaned his forehead against mine. “I’m gonna make this a routine, just so you know.”
I blinked. “What? Kissing me every morning?”
“Mmm” he hummed, brushing his lips over mine again, teasingly. “That, and bringing the best brewed coffee of mine”
I shoved his chest lightly. He didn’t budge, just laughed, dimple deepening again.
I stared at it, that stupid dimple, then reached out to poke it with my finger.
He caught my hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“Careful" he murmured. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might kiss you again.”
I hid my face against the cup im holding. “You’re the worst.”
“Yeah sure, but you still open the door for me every morning.”
And somehow… I knew I always would.