A/N: Some wholesome Haruto and Ollie time; aka Ollie experiencing simping hours.

Ollie's POV

Aside from the cafe's chime and trying to catch our breaths, the cafe was silent as we entered it. Janice and Mi-young were still at the cafe when we walked in, completely soaked from running the streets. They looked at us curiously as they slowly went back to cleaning the shop, exchanging quiet words between themselves.

Although Haruto was fit, he took deep breaths as he ran a hand through his dark locks. "How's your bag? Did it get drenched?"

I looked down at it, and although it did get wet, Haruto's suit did prevent it from being thoroughly soiled. "It's fine."

He was relieved, and I wondered how he could still be smiling despite how soaked his clothes were—and I mean completely soaked; the white undershirt was not hiding anything as he stood there. I shrugged his jacket off before handing it to him. "I'll pay for the dry cleaning, or whatever, and thanks for lending it to me. You didn't have to do that, and now you're probably going to catch a cold."

He grinned, his dimples deepening. "I'll live, and as I said, it's not a problem about the jacket. I feel worse about letting us get caught in the rain like that. Probably wasn't your idea of fun."

"I did," I said a bit harshly before clearing my throat slightly. "I did have fun, I mean. I wish I had known how good the food was there."

"We can always go again when it's not raining, of course. Some vendors only work during the day, while others work only on certain days. There's one that makes the best cheeseburgers with wagyu beef. It's a bit pricier, but she adds this amazing homemade honey and garlic butter on the fries." He walked us over to the table, setting his things down. "I can take you next time. She's only there on Thursdays, though."

Haruto's hair was still dripping wet as he stood next to the table.

"I'd love to try it," I finally told him before pointing to the backroom. "Did you want to change into something dry? You said there might be something in the back."

He glanced over before grinning again. "I'll be right back; there might be some towels or something too."

I almost laughed as the waterlogged shoes of his squeaked with every step he took towards the backroom, and watching the girls smile indicated that they had heard it too. They continued cleaning the glasses and other equipment as it was past closing time, and only the four of us were in here. Aside from the curious looks, it seemed they didn't find it strange that Haruto was here on his off days or past closing time. Haruto practically lived here, and I wondered morbidly who else he had probably brought here after closing time or on his off days.

Although Haruto's coat was practically ruined with rain, I folded it gently and placed it on the adjacent table, fiddling with my hands. A small part of me felt the urge to ask his coworkers if they had known about this mysterious person he had mentioned, but first, Haruto would be back any second, and second, I wouldn't put it past them to snitch and tell Haruto that I had asked. As lovely as they were, I'm sure they love to gossip with him during their shifts.

As I debated the pros and cons of it in my head, Haruto strolled out, still in his soaked pants but now donning a pastel pink t-shirt and a pair of what looked to be house slippers. Draped on his arm were a few small hand towels and an umbrella that hung from his wrist.

"Not my proudest fashion moments, but it'll do," he joked, his dress pants still dripping water all over the floor. He placed one of the towels, on the top of my head, ruffling my hair a bit before adding on, "here you go. We don't have full towels, just hand towels."

"What about the pants? They're soaked," I pointed at them, knowing if he wrung it out, there was enough water to fit in at least the smallest coffee cup size.

He shrugged. "I don't have spare pants in the back, just this shirt. It's not that bad."

I glanced at the puddle on the floor. "If you say so."

His smile returned before he leaned against the table. "Want a coffee?"

My head jerked at the sound of that but staring at the two girls who had just about finished cleaning up the workstation; I gave Haruto a frown. "It's closed, Haruto. I'll live without."

He mimicked my frown before turning to the girls. "I'll close up; you guys can head home."

We all looked at him like he was crazy, but with a shared glance, Mi-young shrugged and untied her apron. Janice followed Mi-young to the backroom after setting the broom back to its designated spot.

"What are you—"

"Cold brew? Or would you prefer a hot drink?" He sent a smile. "It was a bit chilly outside, and I'm sure the rain isn't helping."

"Hot drink, then," I obliged. Ordering cold brews was my norm, but I did appreciate a good hot coffee now and then. Of course, only if Haruto made them, that is. White mocha lattes were also his specialty. "But seriously, I didn't mean for you to make anything."

"Consider it an apology, then. For getting us caught in the rain." He jeered a thumb over to the counter. "I'll even let you watch how it's done."

The girls had reappeared from the backroom with their belongings, Janice with the cafe's keys in hand. She spared Haruto a pointed look. "Don't have too much fun. And make sure you take the trash out."

"Yes, boss." He winked before waving at them. As they walked out, I turned to Haruto, who dangled the keys in his hand with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Come on; I'll teach you how I make your regulars. It's all about the technique and proportions."

I chuckled at that as we walked over to the counter. I had left my wet bag and other belongings at my table, along with my phone, too engrossed in the idea of watching Haruto make my drink up close.

It wasn't until I got behind the counter and in front of the espresso machine did I realize that I was alone with him. Alone with Haruto. It wasn't like I hadn't been alone with him while roaming the streets of Chinatown, but we were legitimately alone, right no; no random passerby's, no street vendors, just us.

That and with Haruto standing just a hair beside me made my cheeks feel warm. Or maybe it was the rain—yeah, totally the rain.

After tinkering with a few buttons and setting up the machine, Haruto turned to grab some of the tools needed, multiple that I hadn't realized were necessary to make a simple latte.

I pointed at one of the tools, one that looked like a giant stamp. "What's that?"

"A tamper; we use it to compact the coffee grounds."

As he worked around the bar, I nodded, grabbing a couple of mugs and a milk pitcher. After messing with the machine's frother, it let out a steamy hiss that almost made me jump had I not been watching his every move.

As he pulled out a small kitchen scale, he paused before turning on his heel towards the utility closet. He retrieved two aprons before handing me one. "Here, just in case."

"Thanks."

"So we grind the beans here," he pointed towards the machine. "Then, with the tamper, we pack it down. But you gotta make sure there's enough, so we weigh it out."

"That seems awfully tedious."

He shrugged. "It keeps the drinks consistent. The girls typically give you the medium roast beans. I prefer the lighter roast or a combination of both. It makes the latte less acidic, more flavorful, in my opinion."

"Acidic?"

He nodded as he started the grinder. "A seventy-thirty ratio of light and medium seemed to be the best ratio. Then from there, I make sure the milk is frothed at a higher temperature. That way it can stay warmer longer and dissolve the white mocha sauce better. Roughly one-sixty to one-seventy."

He laughed as I stared at him confusedly. It was like he was speaking a different language. "It sounds a lot more complicated than it is, promise."

"I just assumed it was pre-mixed or something."

"Not espresso. Your cold brew, yes, we make it the night before to let it steep overnight."

"Interesting," I drawled. He weighed out the coffee grinds before turning to me again.

He placed the tamper on the counter in front of me, gesturing to it expectantly. I picked it up, looking at it warily." Here, put this over the grinds like so—"

Haruto reached for my hand, guiding it to the ground coffee beans. I was sure my hands shook as he kept it in his grasp, lightly pressing the tamper down. "Then we put it in the espresso machine."

He pointed to the slot in the machine, his arm grazing mine as he stepped closer. Goosebumps traveled down my neck and arm.

"As we wait, we steam the milk with the frother. Or, as the girls call it, Mr. Hissy." I looked at him incredulously, but the effect that darned dimpled grin of his had made me whip my head away in fear he'd see the apparent blush on my face. Yes, not from the rain this time. "I'll do this part since you could easily burn yourself with this."

I just nodded, knowing any words would come out weak or give my obvious flustering away. I watched as he steamed the milk, something he probably did hundreds of times during his shift, but he still handled it cautiously, making sure to watch and carefully tilt the milk pitcher. After finally achieving the right temperature he probably needed, he set it down before wiping the steam wand.

"Next comes the fun part, assembly." He pointed to the mugs on my right. "Could you bring those two over here, I'll grab the white chocolate sauce."

I turned on my heel, glad to put even a foot of distance between us, hoping that maybe if I just didn't stand so close, my cheeks would cool down a bit. But just as I reached for the mugs, I felt my foot slide out from under me. On the slight puddle that his dress pants had accumulated.

With a frightened shriek, my arms flailed before they latched onto Haruto's shirt. His reflexes were incredibly fast as he gripped my upper arm, steadying me back on my feet.

"Sorry," we both said simultaneously before letting out a soft laugh.

"That was embarrassing." It wasn't just the near fall, but the fact that I hadn't pulled away from his grasp, or the fact that I was sure my cheeks matched his pink shirt, felt a lot more incriminating than the slip and fall.

Haruto either hadn't noticed or purposely didn't comment on the blush. "You alright? I should've put a cardboard down to prevent that."

"Just my pride's broken," I muttered, almost laughing about how that could've been a pun. Shaking my head, I pointed at the milk pitcher and espresso. "So assembly, you said?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I like to put the sauce against the walls of the mug, that way, it isn't just sitting all at the bottom. Then I add the espresso the same way, along the walls of the mug."

"I just assumed you threw it all in the mug."

He hummed. "You could, but the sauce, more often than not, won't get fully incorporated. Especially since it's made from scratch, it's not as thin as store-bought ones."

"Makes sense." He grabbed the white chocolate sauce, demonstrating his technique before handing me the espresso. I gulped before mimicking the same motion, coating the drizzles of white mocha along the sides of the mug. "Like this?"

"Perfect."

"Now the milk?"

He nodded. "It's hot, but I'll show you how to make a simple latte art."

I blinked up at him. "You—you can do latte art? Real—really?"

I felt like I was meeting the president; Haruto knew how to do this? The whole time? It was one of the reasons I had enjoyed local coffee shops, the craft of latte art. It was like some magic trick to me, something that I had tried countless times with my mother's rather expensive coffee maker but could never do. She, of course, was not pleased I had wasted so much of her expensive coffee, especially when I thought simply microwaving milk would have the same effect.

Haruto tilted his head. "Yeah, we don't do it as often here, but we all learned from our boss. She had gone abroad and did a class there. She can do all the fancy ones, where we learned the basic heart one."

"But those are the best," I insisted, still in awe at this revelation. "I love the heart one."

He chuckled. "Well, let me show you then. It's really simple, I haven't tested out the other designs, but I think Mi-young figured out how to do a swan.

Not even caring how red my face was, I watched intently as he scooped up the mug, pouring the piping hot milk into it. I watched as he swirled it around, coating the sides before lowering the pitcher closer to the mug.

And like magic, Haruto began making the familiar pattern. I was sure my mouth hung open as he finished it off, drawing the signature line to complete the shape.

"And voila, a white mocha latte."

"Woah," was all I could manage to say as he placed it on the counter.

He grinned at my reaction before pointing at the white chocolate sauce. "And that's the secret. Mixed brew of beans, homemade white mocha, and the technique."

"I'm speechless. How did I not know you could do latte art?"

He shrugged. "You never asked, and typically you stick to your cold brew. Which I could also show you how to make."

I waved my hand between us. "No, my mind's still processing the latte art."

"Well, you're always welcome to learn our secret recipes; I'd be happy to teach you."

Narrowing my eyes, I looked at him sternly. "Ah, is this how you're recruiting new workers? I see."

He laughed. "As much as I'd love to work with you, I quite enjoy spending my lunch breaks at the table with you. This is just a bonus for my favorite customer, the highly exclusive backstage pass here."

"Haha," I mocked. "You're seriously going to get in trouble one day, Haruto."

"It's just us in here. No one will have to know." I didn't argue, even though Janice and Mi-young had to know something by now.

I hummed before glancing at the coffee, still retaining the impeccably well-shaped heart.

"Thanks for the coffee."

He grinned. "Thanks for the company."