staring down at his phone, voice flatPickup order 768.
The diner was quiet for a Wednesday afternoon. Only two other customers sat in the booths by the window, and the only sound was the low hum of the old refrigerator behind the counter.
Si-eun kept his eyes fixed on his screen. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard but never typed. His hair was longer now, hanging slightly over his eyes, and there was a new tiredness in the set of his shoulders that hadn't been there a year ago.
The counter between you felt like it stretched for miles.
