♫ : the first snow - exo

You stood behind the counter, wiping the tables as lofi music played softly in the background of your café. Nothing interesting, just the usual faces coming in for their daily coffees. You slipped off your apron and grabbed your bag, glancing at the clock. It was a little past eight.

You felt the familiar craving for something warm and comforting as you closed up for the night. Steamed dumplings... it sounded perfect. Just like last time.

The streets outside were already covered in a new layer of snow, painting the world white once again. The chill was biting at your nose as you walked toward the small vendor that had been near your apartment for years.

The vendor greeted you with a smile as you ordered your usual, but double this time, saving a serving for tomorrow. Hot steam rose into the cold air as she packed your dumplings into a plastic bag. You made your way back to the apartment building with dinner in hand.

As you reached the elevator, the doors were just beginning to close when a hand shot out, holding them open.

"Ah, perfect timing," Jake's voice called out as he stepped inside. "We met again."

You smiled softly, but oh god, your heart was doing that awkward little flip it started to do ever since Jake reappeared in your life. He looked effortlessly cool as usual. Puffer jacket, fluffy hair, perfect amount of confidence.

"Hey, Jake," you greeted, clutching the warm bag of dumplings a little bit tighter. "Heading home?" You asked the obvious.

"Yeah," he replied, eyes flicking down to the bag in your hand, a small smile appearing on his lips. "Steamed dumplings again?"

You chuckled, a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, it's practically a habit to get some after work now."

"Good habit to have, though," he teased. A few seconds later, the silence between the both of you was cut by a small glance from him. "Any plans tonight?"

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, not really. Why?"

"Well," Jake started, his voice playful, "We didn't really get to catch up the other day. If you're free, maybe we could share those dumplings at my place?"

Your stomach flipped again. Was this just a simple dinner, or...? Your body made that call for you well before you could overthink it.

"Sure, I mean... yeah, that sounds nice," you answered, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Jake's smile widened. "Great. Let's go, then."

The moment that he arrived at his door, your eyes couldn't help darting across the hall to your apartment, comparing the differences in style.

Your apartment was colorful and full of life. Plushies on your couch, cartoon paintings hung on the walls, and everything screamed comfort.

On the other hand, when Jake's loft door opened, it was an entire different story. Minimalistic, sleek, and incredibly cool. Everything in dark, muted colors, right off the pages of one of those designer magazines.

You came in and set the bag of dumplings on his table as Jake closed the door after you. He then took his coat off and slung it over the back of a chair.

"Make yourself at home," he said casually, gesturing to the dining area as he walked into the kitchen to grab a plate and chopsticks. You sat down and tried not to feel like a bum in his cool, shiny world.

You watched as Jake busied himself, setting the table. He caught you staring and raised an eyebrow, lips quirking up. "You okay there?"

"Yeah," you said quickly. "Just admiring your place. It's really... you."

He chuckled, sitting down across from you. "Thanks, but that's nothing compared to how I remember your room when we were kids. You always had way more personality."

Your face got warm just thinking about it. It's almost impossible to believe that he would remember things like that. "Yeah, I haven't changed much. Still love my cartoons and plushies."

Jake's eyes softened. "That's good. They suit you."

You looked down, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting to him in this small space. Well, the place isn't, the table is. He opened the bag and set a plate between the two of you, taking out the dumplings. The smell filled the air as you both grabbed your chopsticks.

You and Jake, the dumplings on his table. The world was just the two of you for a few moments, the cold winter night gone.

His knee brushed against yours under the table. It was just a light touch, nothing intentional, but enough to make you hyper-aware of every little movement of his. You weren't sure if he noticed, but the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips made you suspect otherwise.

"Thanks for sharing," Jake said, popping a dumpling into his mouth. "I could get used to this."

Your heart skipped at the way he said it. You laughed it off, looking away as you took a bite of your own dumpling. "It's just dumplings. You can buy them from the vendor downstairs."

"Hmm," he leaned back a little. "It's not only the food that makes it nice, though."

The words were innocent enough, but there was an almost unnoticeable tension that made your stomach twist in that fluttery, nervous way. You looked up, meeting his eyes for a second, before quickly focusing on your plate again.

"Right," you mumbled, pretending to be engrossed in the next dumpling.

"I'm serious," Jake chuckled softly, his voice low and teasing, to which you swallowed hard.

It was as if the snow outside didn't exist. All you could focus on was the quiet, almost-too-cozy space between you and Jake, his knee just barely brushing yours again as you both reached for the last dumpling.

Maybe it was just dumplings and an old friend catching up.