elaravienne

[elaravienne]

Chapter 8

“There are people you meet who make you feel seen just by being near them.” — Beau Taplin

📌 Characters in this story are fictional. Inspired by SEVENTEEN’s Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “Sweet Night” – V (BTS) [Listen on Spotify]

-

He hadn’t expected a reply.

He thought maybe it was a mistake — messaging her like that, out of nowhere. Too much time had passed. Maybe he’d misread things.

But then her message came in.

"Didn’t expect to hear from you."

Just seven words. No emojis. No punctuation to soften it.

Still, it felt like sunlight through a crack in the blinds.

-

He typed. Deleted. Typed again.

Eventually, he settled on:

“Didn’t expect to send it.”

That night, he slept a little easier.

-

It was the weekend when she messaged again.

“There’s a flea market near the river this Sunday. Thought you might like it.”

He reread it three times.

No overthinking. Just her. Reaching out.

-

They met at the bus stop.

She wore a navy skirt and a loose cream blouse, sleeves rolled, hair tied back. Simple. Comfortable. Pretty.

“Didn’t peg you for the flea market type,” she teased.

“I’m not,” he said. “But I’m here, aren’t I?”

She smiled.

It felt like something beginning.

-

They didn’t buy anything. Just browsed, wandered, talked about odd things — favourite scents, the worst movie they’d ever paid for, childhood nicknames.

She laughed when he admitted his was “Cheollie Bear.”

He didn’t even mind.

-

Later, they found a quiet corner noodle shop with steamed-up windows and a fan that squeaked every few turns.

They sat by the window. He watched the way she picked the spring onions out of her bowl.

“You do that every time?” he asked.

She nodded, mid-chew.

“I can’t eat onions,” she said. “They feel like betrayal. Crunchy but confusing.”

He laughed. Really laughed.

-

It wasn’t a big day. No grand moment. No confessions.

Just her. Just him.

And the feeling that this — whatever this was — might just be real.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

Chapter 7

"It’s not always about what’s said. Sometimes, it’s about what stays with you after." — unknown

📌 Characters in this story are fictional. Inspired by SEVENTEEN’s Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “Falling In Love at a Coffee Shop” – Landon Pigg [Listen on Spotify]

-

She didn’t reply that morning.

She read the message again.

And again.

She closed her phone. Opened it back. Read it once more.

“Your hair’s down today. That’s new.” “Didn’t mean to be weird. Just noticed. Thought you looked… different today." – S

Sena stared at the screen until the brightness dimmed on its own.

Then she set it face-down beside her plate and pushed her toast around.

-

Her lecture started at 9. She was there, but she wasn’t.

The professor was talking about stream-of-consciousness narration — a style that trails wherever thought leads.

Sena looked down at her notebook.

She’d written his name in the margin.

She quickly scribbled it out.

-

During lunch, Hyejin noticed something.

“You’re extra quiet today.”

“Just tired,” Sena lied.

“Hmm.”

Hyejin didn’t push. But the look she gave said she didn’t believe it.

-

That afternoon, Sena tried finishing an assignment.

She stared at the blinking cursor on her screen, but every time she tried to focus, the same words echoed:

“You looked different today.” “I noticed.”

-

She didn’t know what to do with that.

He’d been distant. Absent.

She thought maybe it was over — whatever it even was.

And then... this.

-

That night, after a lukewarm dinner and a quiet shower, she curled up on her bed with her laptop beside her.

She held her phone for a long time.

Not texting.

Not typing.

Just holding.

Then finally, without overthinking, she typed:

Didn’t expect to hear from you.

She hit send before she could take it back.

Just like that, her heart was too loud to ignore.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

Chapter 6

“It’s strange how someone you barely know can start to matter.” — unknown

📌 Characters in this story are fictional. Inspired by SEVENTEEN’s Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “Secret Base Kimi ga Kureta Mono” (Piano Ver.) – Ru’s Piano [Listen on Spotify]

-

Three days. Maybe four.

She told herself it didn’t matter — that people get busy. That café habits shift.

By the fourth day, Sena started wondering if she had imagined it all.

The way he glanced up when she walked in. The soft changes in his expression. The rare half-smiles that felt like secrets passed between strangers.

She told herself to stop thinking about it.

Still, her eyes scanned the café the moment she stepped in.

Still, the empty seat by the wall — the one he always took — made her heart dip a little lower.

-

She picked a corner. Pulled out a book. Didn’t read.

The café was louder today. A group near the counter was laughing over someone’s failed latte art attempt.

She caught her name once. Then twice — the barista calling out her drink like always.

“Café latte for Sena!”

Normal. Familiar.

Today, it felt like it echoed.

-

She sipped slowly. Swirled the foam in her cup.

She told herself to stay just five more minutes.

That’s when her phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

She blinked. Unlocked it.

Your hair’s down today. That’s new.

Her chest tightened.

She didn’t respond.

She didn’t even breathe, for a second.

A minute later, another message:

Sorry. Didn’t mean to be weird. I just noticed. Thought you looked… different today. – S

-

Her fingers hovered above the screen.

She thought of how quiet he had been. How he had disappeared without a word.

How the baristas smiled at her today — a little too knowingly.

“He asked about you.” “He didn’t say why.”

She placed her phone screen-down.

She didn’t smile. Didn’t frown.

Just… sat there, a little thrown.

This — whatever this was — was shifting.

She didn’t know if she liked that. She didn’t hate it either.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

i write in lowercase, and so do my thoughts

fiction stitched in playlists, soft hours, and stories told in café silences 🌿

—

if my mind had a moodboard: cozy reading nooks, books half-finished, fairy lights, birdsong through the garden, the hush before sunset.

i write to fantasy instrumentals. mark papers to lo-fi café beats.

i lean minimalist. simple. dainty in appearance — but not nearly as soft as i look.

—

💌 a few things i keep close: ✦ english pear & freesia ✦ spring (even if Malaysia doesn’t have seasons — winter and i don’t get along) ✦ night, where most stories begin ✦ a baby pillow i’ve slept with since childhood — it still travels with me

—

💭 a quote i keep tucked somewhere quiet: “waiting for you is like waiting for a drought in the rain.” A Cinderella Story

—

this is me — softly, quietly welcome to my world.

Elara

[elaravienne]

Chapter 5

“You look like spring, but something in you carries winter.” – unknown

📌 characters in this story are fictional. inspired by SEVENTEEN’s Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “she likes spring, I prefer winter” – slchld

[Listen on Spotify]

-

She was there again.

Same window seat. Same café latte.

But something about her looked… tired.

Not in the way sleep could fix - in that quiet, heavy kind of way. The kind that made him want to ask, “Are you okay?” And also made him stay silent.

-

Seungcheol hovered a little too long at the counter.

He wasn’t going to say anything - he told himself that.

Of course not.

He also wasn’t going to leave.

So, he picked a table across the room. Close enough to see her. Far enough to pretend he wasn’t looking.

-

She didn’t look up. That was good.

It kept things safe.

He opened his book, but didn’t read. Just turned pages.

She pushed her hair back. Rested her cheek on her hand. Mouthed something to herself -

Maybe a line from her book. Maybe nothing at all.

He didn't know, but he wanted to.

-

Then, her name was called again.

Different drink this time. Something warmer. Whipped cream on top.

Something she didn’t usually order.

She stood to collect it. She passed his table.

Their eyes met.

Brief. Cautious.

He gave the smallest nod.

She didn’t smile, but she didn’t look away.

-

That night, he sat at his desk, unable to focus.

He opened his notes app.

Typed something he’d never send:

You look like spring, but I think you’re carrying winter. I get that. I’ve been cold for a long time too.

He stared at the words and locked his phone.

Some things didn’t need to be said. Not yet.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

Chapter 4

“It wasn’t love. Not yet. But it was a feeling that wanted to become.” — unknown

📌 Characters in this story are fictional. Inspired by SEVENTEEN’s Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “Out of My League (Acoustic)” – Stephen Speaks [Listen on Spotify]

-

He never really meant to linger, but he did.

The same way some people leave fingerprints on glass and forget, Seungcheol kept leaving pieces of himself behind at that café.

A half-finished americano.

A half-filled notebook.

The faintest trace of cologne that someone might only notice if they were already thinking about him.

He doubted she was.

-

Sena.

It was a pretty name. He’d heard it once, maybe twice — murmured in passing between her and the barista.

It stayed.

The way her lips moved when she laughed, when she thanked someone, when she bit her straw thoughtfully and stared into nothing — he didn’t know why he noticed.

He just did.

-

She wasn’t extraordinary in that movie-star kind of way.

She had this stillness. Like she lived in a world just slightly softer than his.

He found himself drawn to that quiet.

He watched her sometimes — not in a creepy way (he hoped), just with quiet curiosity

More like someone observing a painting.

You don’t touch.

You just… wonder.

-

One rainy Thursday, she looked up and caught him.

A blink. Just a moment.

Her gaze didn’t flinch.

Neither did his.

Although they both turned back to their drinks after a breath, that invisible thread — the one he kept denying — tightened.

-

He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.

She wore oversized cardigans and tied her hair up loosely, like she didn’t care much about being noticed.

That made him notice more.

There were books in her bag - literature, mostly. The kind that left people wrecked, or quietly changed.

He wondered if she knew she was doing the same to him.

-

It wasn’t romantic.

Not yet.

Just curiosity.

A quiet ache that settled somewhere behind his ribs.

Like he’d forgotten something important… and she was somehow connected to it.

-

That night, lying in bed, rain still pattering softly against his window,

he turned the music low — something slow, piano and echo.

“Let me stay here,” the lyrics whispered.

“Let me stay quiet.”

He closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to fall.

Something told him — he already was.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

Somehow, Still You - Masterlist

A soft, slowburn original story told in café glances and quiet moments.

Written by Elara Vienne

Start Reading:

Overview

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

📌 New chapters coming soon. This post will be updated & pinned.

🕯️ Thank you for reading — softly, quietly.

From the library of Elara Vienne

-

✨ Want to know more about the writer?

Read my About Me post

[elaravienne]

Chapter 3

“And maybe that’s all we ever really need. One person to make us feel like we belong.” — unknown

📌 characters in this story are fictional. inspired by SEVENTEEN's Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “This Side of Paradise” (Slowed Ver.) – Coyote Theory [Listen on Spotify]

-

Sena didn’t expect to see him again.

Not so soon.

Not on a Saturday morning.

She liked the café best when it wasn't full.

When the air still smelled like pastries fresh out of the oven, and the music wasn’t loud enough to distract.

This time, he was already there.

Two tables across.

No book today.

Just a black pen and a lined notebook — one page half-filled, the other completely blank.

He was tapping the pen against the wood, rhythmically.

Not like he was impatient.

More like… he was waiting for a thought to arrive.

-

She ordered without looking his way.

She sat near the corner and pulled out a novel she wasn’t in the mood for.

Turned to a page she’d read before.

“You’re early today.”

She looked up. He was standing there.

Soft hoodie. That same quiet expression.

She blinked once. Then smiled, just a little.

“Needed to get out of the house.”

“Mind if I sit?”

She gestured to the seat across.

-

They didn’t talk much. It wasn’t awkward.

Just comfortable.

The hum of the espresso machine. The flick of a page. The sound of two drinks being sipped too slowly.

“I’m Seungcheol,” he said, finally.

She looked at him — surprised, but not thrown off.

“Sena.”

“I know,” he said, amused. “They say your name every time you order.”

She rolled her eyes.

“So you’ve been listening?”

“No,” he said. “Just… noticing.”

She laughed — breathy and involuntary.

-

They stayed like that.

Not for long, but long enough.

They didn’t exchange numbers.

They didn’t make promises.

They just… shared a quiet Saturday morning.

When she left, she didn’t look back.

If she had…

She would’ve seen him watching her go.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

Chapter 2

“The heart recognizes before the mind has the chance to catch up.” — Beau Taplin

📌 characters in this story are fictional. inspired by SEVENTEEN's Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “La Vie en Rose (Piano Ver.)” – Daniela Andrade [Listen on Spotify]

-

The café was warm today. The kind of warm that didn’t just come from the sun slipping through the window, but from routine.

From recognition.

From the soft clink of ceramic cups and the low hum of the espresso machine she could almost memorize by now.

Sena stirred her café latte absently.

It wasn’t even hot anymore. She’d been sitting there too long, pretending to read the same page three times.

Her eyes lifted — again.

Two tables down.

Same hoodie.

Same cup.

Same boy.

Not that she stared. Not really.

He was… noticeable.

The kind of noticeable that you don’t want to notice.

Quiet.

Steady.

There.

-

She turned back to her notes, underlined a random sentence, and scribbled something in the margins just to make her pen move.

She wasn’t sure when it started — this quiet noticing of him.

All she knew was that when she walked into this café now, she scanned the room before she reached the counter.

When she found him, already seated with that unreadable expression and a paperback curled in his hand, something in her exhaled.

Not relief. Not excitement.

Just familiarity.

-

He never looked around much. Never scrolled on his phone. Just read — or sat still, coffee in hand, like the quiet didn’t bother him.

Sena wondered what that felt like.

To be so completely unbothered.

To take up space like you weren’t trying to disappear.

-

The barista called her name.

She looked up instinctively, even though she already had her drink.

When she did — for a split second — his gaze met hers.

Just once.

She looked away first, but not because she was embarrassed.

She didn’t trust herself not to smile.

-

She packed up an hour later.

At the door, she paused.

Glanced over her shoulder - just once.

He didn’t look up that time.

Still, her heart thudded anyway.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

Chapter 1

“some people cross your path and change your whole direction.” – unknown

📌 characters in this story are fictional. inspired by SEVENTEEN's Seungcheol, but not based on real events or personalities.

🎧 Chapter OST: “Maybe It’s Not Our Fault” (Piano Ver.) – Yerin Baek [Listen on Spotify]

-

Morning

Sena brushed her hair into a lazy ponytail, toothbrush still in her mouth.

Her laptop buzzed on the nightstand — lecture slides opening, tabs already a mess of readings, articles, and half-written notes.

-

Three floors below, Seungcheol tugged on a crisp white shirt.

Quiet apartment.

Tie slung around his neck but not tightened.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping black coffee from a chipped mug.

The morning news droned softly in the background — more for noise than information.

-

Two lives.

Same sky.

Different rhythms.

-

Late Morning

Sena slipped into her lecture hall, five minutes late, iced Americano in hand.

Same drink, every day. Light ice, half syrup, no milk.

She scribbled in her notebook absentmindedly — most of it had nothing to do with the class.

-

Across town, Seungcheol stood before a client, blueprints in hand. Polished, composed — except for the half-smudged pencil tucked behind his ear.

He never ate breakfast. Just coffee. Always hot. Even in the heat.

His colleagues joked that he lived on caffeine and silence.

They weren’t entirely wrong.

-

Afternoon

Sena sat under a tree near campus, notebook open but untouched.

She watched people pass by and thought too long about sentences she never wrote.

-

Seungcheol rode the elevator alone to the rooftop of his office.

He never told anyone that’s where he went when he needed to think.

He didn’t like talking about dreams. Not anymore.

-

Evening

They both arrived at the café.

Different entrances. Different timing.

-

Sena walked in just as the sunlight dipped low, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor.

Her usual seat by the window was taken.

By him - though she didn’t know that, of course.

She ordered her drink — same as always — and sat two tables away, flipping through her notes, pretending to focus.

-

Seungcheol glanced up when she walked in.

She didn’t see him.

Minutes passed.

Then, he got a call. He looked away.

-

That’s when she looked up.

She noticed him.

-

Neither of them spoke.

Not yet.

The air shifted — like the moment before a song begins.

-

Two lives.

Same café.

Different beats.

Maybe, finally, one shared silence.

-

From the library of Elara Vienne

[elaravienne]

Somehow, Still You

🎧 Inspirations

I Don't Understand But I Love You - SEVENTEEN

No Longer - NCT 127

📝 Summary

When a Literature major with a guarded heart keeps running into the same quiet guy two blocks from home, silence starts to speak louder than words.

Neither of them makes the first move — until small moments string together into something neither of them can explain.

Or ignore.

💛 Characters

• Sena – Literature major, soft-spoken but observant

• Seungcheol – Stoic, thoughtful, owns a quiet charm

From the library of Elara Vienne