Enchanted by the Fox (1)
Whether it was burnout or something else, I couldn't stand the creeping sense of exhaustion, lethargy, and melancholy, so I forced myself out of the house. Yeah, that little whim was the trigger.
While getting familiar with the new neighborhood after moving in, I was drawn by the rich aroma of coffee and its cozy interior to a small cafe—Blue Mocha. Up until then, it was just a decent spot I'd stumbled upon during a casual walk around the block. Oh, there's a nice cafe near home. The part-timer's handsome and friendly—pretty good. That was about the extent of it.
"Welcome~"
That's where I met him for the first time. His warm, bright voice was just like spring sunshine. The way his eyes crinkled softly when he smiled was incredibly pretty. He was so handsome, I wondered why someone with a face like that was working part-time at a cafe. Tall stature, solid shoulders—break it down, and he had the sturdy build of a wolf, but his gentle smile made him look like a big, docile dog.
"Can I help you with your order?"
Handsome guys like him are usually more arrogant and self-centered. You know, cashing in on their looks. Even making allowances for him being on the job, his demeanor was... different. Refreshingly so, from other men. That was my first impression of the nameless cafe hunk.
-2-
In a world with a 1:6 male-to-female ratio, where men are absolutely scarce, the male gender couldn't help but become special. At least in romance and relationships, they were always the ones doing the choosing. Women's favors and considerations toward them were taken for granted. Their interest in a woman was something to be grateful for.
At first, I thought that was just how it was. Society ran that way. But after a few relationships, I started questioning if all those "normal" things really were normal.
My first boyfriend was in middle school second year. Pretty good-looking, smart, decent family background. In today's terms, silver spoon, I guess. Anyway. He'd probably heard somewhere that I was from a rich family, because at first, he hovered around me aggressively, chasing me hard.
To put it bluntly, back then I was a total idiot, completely played by that jerk. I always messaged first, paid for all the dates, and the gifts he wanted were ridiculously expensive luxury brands—"Do students even need this stuff?" If things didn't go his way, he'd throw tantrums and whine. He'd make me look like the weird one to our friends. Even when he was clearly wrong, he'd never apologize—hell, he'd turn it around on me like I was the villain. Total nightmare in every way.
Still, blinded by the "first boyfriend" rose-tinted glasses, I stayed the priciest fish in his pond until I graduated middle school. One of the few black marks on Seo Ji-ah's life record.
The second boyfriend, the third—they were all the same. Strip away the gender, and they were such scumbags even Satan would shake his head. No matter how much genuine kindness and love I showed, no matter how much I yielded and endured, they never appreciated it.
The one that pissed me off most was the returnee senior I met right after starting college. Not exceptionally handsome, but he had a kind face that drew the eye—a nice guy type. For a man, anyway. So naive 20-year-old Seo Ji-ah worked hard again, hoping maybe this one's different.
Of course, there were plenty of girls like me circling him for the same reasons. But out of all those girls, I never caught his eye. Bluntly put, he was just stringing us along.
Then one day, he started being extra sweet to me, showering me with attention. At first, I thought, persistence pays off—my sincerity got through! Nope. Somehow he'd found out I was the youngest of Taesung Group, and he was deliberately playing the peacock. Looking back, all the girls he kept super close were the ones who seemed loaded.
Once I realized that, I was disillusioned with dating, with men. What the hell do they think of someone's true heart, their devotion, their love and effort!? To them, Seo Ji-ah was just a beauty from a powerhouse family—a rare, limited-edition trophy or accessory, nothing more.
And so, against my will, I became something like a single-ism advocate. Men were all the same anyway, and my life was perfectly fine without those losers. Hell, I couldn't stand the thought of one leeching off the successful life I'd built and strutting around. Romance or marriage with a man? Never in Seo Ji-ah's future. I'd sworn it off.
Or so I thought...
-3-
The handsome part-timer at that neighborhood cafe kept popping into my mind oddly. With his solid build and wolfish good looks, smiling like a gentle giant dog or spring sunlight.
A few days after moving in, my place was still littered with unpacked boxes. Lounging around felt meh, so I headed out. Really, just a walk on a fine spring day, throat parched, and conveniently passing that cafe.
But honestly? I was a bit curious. Suspicious, even. A kind, good-natured guy in this world? With that tall, handsome frame? That's why I stopped by. The coffee was good for the price, too.
"Oh? Back again. Welcome!"
Second visit, and he remembered me. In a small neighborhood cafe, sure—but remembering a non-regular? A man doing that? He greeted me warmly, smiling proudly, which was kinda funny. He probably thought I'd returned because he'd sneakily stamped an extra on my coupon the day before. Adorably full of himself.
With a beauty like this customer, how could I forget? When I was surprised he remembered, he shot back innocently, like it'd be weirder not to. What a cheeky weirdo.
He had no idea I was Taesung Group's youngest, and here this handsome guy was, being all sweet to a stranger? That day, I sat by the window, gazing out but sneaking glances at the counter.
He was polite and friendly to customers. With regulars, he'd toss light jokes and chuckle. Wolfish looks, but that pure smile, soft voice—total puppy vibes.
I nursed my coffee for over an hour, peeking at him secretly now and then. Not weird, though—none of the few table customers skipped glancing his way. Whether he played oblivious or was just dense, who knows.
He mostly manned the counter, handling customers deftly and kindly. In between, he'd help the middle-aged woman who seemed to be the Cafe Owner, making drinks, washing up backlog. Diligent and meticulous.
Sometimes he'd sit in the back on a stool, zoning out for a break, scrolling his phone, or humming along to the shop tunes. Watching him, gender aside, he just seemed like a sincere, hardworking guy.
-4-
Not every day, but I visited Blue Mocha pretty often. No big reason. I wasn't into dating, but that didn't mean I hated looking at handsome guys. Good atmosphere, tasty coffee for cheap. Just stopping by on walks, killing two birds.
Lame self-justification and excuses. Maybe it started that innocently. Like spotting a rare or mythical creature.
"Iced Americano with an extra shot today, right?"
Every time, he'd greet me, even preempt my order sometimes—
"Didn't sleep well?" One day I ordered decaf, and he blinked those clear eyes, pondered worriedly, then recommended a special menu for deep sleep, saying it was low-caffeine.
"I've been practicing latte art lately, so I can draw pictures too." No guarantees it'll be pretty, though, he'd chuckle playfully.
I'd come in looking all pensive for a leisurely coffee, but when he learned I had a kid's palate, he looked kinda cute. Half-joking, I said, "Then why not hot honey milk?" He sheepishly replied, "That's too childish."
Yeah, fine—I admit it. My heart skipped a beat.
Wolf-sturdy looks, golden retriever personality. What was this sly cutie?
Childhood me would've fallen head over heels, handing over heart, liver, and all.
"Looks good. But latte art... you need more practice." Couldn't help teasing when he sheepishly presented his "art." His pouty lip was pretty cute.
Ordering a takeout extra, he tried harder, grunting effort—still epic fail. Tease him a bit, and he'd sulk like a kid, stirring it wildly with a stick. Hilarious, all around.
Truly one-of-a-kind guy.
-5-
When did it start? I began sorting the unpacked boxes I'd left scattered.
Even for a neighborhood loop, I'd check my outfit before heading out—was it too sloppy? For the cafe, too formal was weird, too casual or overly dolled-up also no. Picking something pretty yet natural took time.
Heading out for a walk, maybe swinging by the cafe—why was I fussing this much? Reality check sometimes.
The coupon—free Americano or cookie at 10 stamps—was on its second card. Was it the cute cat stamps, or him pressing them firmly each time? I handled it carefully to avoid creases.
The first card, with his extra service stamp? Too precious to use—tucked in my vanity drawer.
His "Come again?" smile would flit by, lifting my mood on listless days. Side effect: I'd end up scurrying back to the cafe.
"Huh?"
One day, like always, I went—and he wasn't there. Mood soured instantly. Felt like a wasted trip. Frowned without thinking.
Why? I knew why. Just hated admitting my main reason for coming was him, and he was gone.
Didn't want to look suspicious, so I ordered from the Cafe Owner lady instead.
"Iced Americano, extra shot." First time in ages saying it fully. He'd always grin "Today too?" playfully before I finished.
Missing that routine felt awkward, lacking. Since when had I looked forward to chatting with him?
Brought the coupon but skipped the stamp. No one to press the cat firmly.
"That part-timer? Looks like he's off today."
Casually asked the owner; she smiled wryly, like she got this a lot.
"Bad cold, resting up."
Any other guy, I'd think slacking with fake illness. Not him—diligent and kind. If he said sick, he was sick.
Worried me. No big deal, just... neighborhood acquaintance. Humanitarian concern.
Grabbed takeout, went home. That night, craved spicy food oddly.
What? Was I stressed?