Chapter 1

The automatic doors of Cafe Blue hovered open for a fraction of a second, just long enough for a blast of Siberian wind to chase Ji-ho inside. He didn't walk so much as waddle, his knees unable to bend fully beneath three layers of thermal leggings and a floor-length padded puffer coat that made him look like a very shiny, very black rectangular prism.

The cafe was a tropical microclimate. Steam from the espresso machine collided with the damp heat of fifty students in wet boots, creating a humid fog that immediately turned Ji-ho’s glasses into two opaque discs of white mist. He was blind, he was sweating, and he was fairly certain he was vibrating from the sheer amount of static electricity building up in his wool scarf.

He fumbled for a microfiber cloth, nearly knocking over a trash can with his oversized sleeve. When the world finally snapped back into focus, he saw him.

Min-jun was sitting at a small corner table, looking infuriatingly editorial. He wore a single, elegant cashmere turtleneck and was scrolling through a tablet with long, nimble fingers. He looked like the "after" photo in a skincare commercial. Ji-ho, by contrast, was the "before" photo for a documentary on polar survival.

"Ji-ho?" Min-jun asked, tilting his head. A small, intrigued smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Present," Ji-ho squeaked. He tried to slide into the chair opposite Min-jun, but the air trapped in his puffer coat hissed loudly as it compressed, making a sound suspiciously like a deflating balloon. "Sorry. The wind-chill was negative fifteen. I didn't want to die before the first date. It’s bad for the vibe."

"Safety first," Min-jun said, his eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. "Do you… want to come out of there? Or are you staying in the cocoon?"

"No, I’m coming out. I have a very nice sweater under here. It took me forty minutes to pick it out."

Ji-ho stood up to begin the Great De-layering. He unwound the first scarf—a six-foot monstrosity—only for the friction to send a visible spark jumping from his hand to the metal table. *Snap.*

"Ow," Ji-ho muttered. He pulled off his ear muffs, which caused his jet-black hair to reach for the ceiling, standing straight up in a perfect, electrified halo. He looked like a startled dandelion.

"Your hair," Min-jun noted, leaning back. "It’s very… structural."

"It’s the architecture major in me," Ji-ho joked weakly, his face flushing a deep crimson that had nothing to do with the cafe's heater.

Then came the coat. Ji-ho reached for the zipper, but his fingers were still numb, and the sheer bulk of his inner hoodie had bunched up into the teeth of the track. He pulled. It didn't budge. He tucked his chin, straining against the fabric, his arms flailing like a trapped penguin. In the struggle, his elbow clipped a stack of napkins, sending them fluttering across the floor like oversized snowflakes.

"I am a professional," Ji-ho gasped, tugging harder. "I promise I can perform basic human tasks."

"Ji-ho, stop," Min-jun said softly.

He stood up and stepped around the tiny table. The height difference was sudden and dizzying. Min-jun smelled like expensive sandalwood and cold air. He reached out, his warm hands steadying Ji-ho’s trembling ones.

"Hold still, Marshmallow," Min-jun whispered.

With a practiced, deft flick of his wrist, Min-jun unjammed the fabric and slid the zipper down in one smooth motion. As the coat fell open, the heat escaped, and for a moment, they were standing very close in the cramped space. Min-jun didn't move away immediately. He reached up and gently smoothed down the static-charged strands of Ji-ho’s hair, his fingers lingering just a second too long near Ji-ho’s ear.

"There," Min-jun said, returning to his seat as if he hadn't just saved Ji-ho’s dignity. He pushed a condensation-covered cup toward him. "Iced Americano. I figured you’d be running hot by the time you got that off."

Ji-ho sank into his chair, finally unburdened by the five pounds of nylon and down. He took a sip of the bitter, freezing coffee and felt his heart rate finally settle into something resembling a romantic rhythm.

"You're not running away?" Ji-ho asked, peeking at Min-jun through his bangs.

Min-jun laughed, a rich, warm sound that cut through the cafe noise. "Why would I? The coat was interesting, but I like the human version much better. Plus, I need to see if you can get back *into* that thing at the end of the night without my help."

"Is that an invitation for a second date?"

Min-jun winked, picking up his own drink. "That’s an invitation to stay right here until the ice melts. Then we’ll see."