Archive of Our Own

The stars are looking
straight down on us
I can’t see the end of the universe
Ima build a rocket to pierce through the clouds
Countdown, launch it

Don’t be afraid

We don’t know where we’re going
Build a rocket with me

Seungyeon was really, extremely, absolutely spoiled as a child, and Jeongyeon was the one suffering because of it.

She got all the toys she wanted - dolls, model cars, playmobil mansions, stuffed animals -, but she also was incredibly careless with them. Suddenly, the barbie dolls were missing limbs or heads, the cars mysteriously vanished in the toilet, playmobil houses were crushed and and the stuffed toys somehow all ended up with their cotton guts on the outside. Seungyeon‘s undeniable, unexplainable wrath towards her toys did not only lead to thoughtless actions, but also to Jeongyeon having been even more caring with her belongings.

It also lead to their parents handing a three year old Jeongyeon only a small stuffed animal (a turtle, soon to be nicknamed ‘Turd’) and the well meant suggestion to use “her imagination to play”.

If she thinks about it now, Seoyeon got more toys than her as well - maybe her parents just didn’t put any more effort into their youngest child.

Anyhow - Jeongyeon never owned any toys except Turd (who counted more as a friend, anyway), and she never felt weird about it until she met Sana.

Of course, when a new household moved to their street, Jeongyeon’s mother had to drag all of them to their house for a good first impression. Jeongyeon, now a (very mature!) six year old, shuffled behind her sisters and parents, assuming the small house belonged to newlyweds with no children, as almost all houses in their street did.

They sat and talked over coffee (for the adults) and biscuits (for the kids) and Jeongyeon thought she might die out of sheer boredom when a girl her age sneaked down the stairs, putting everyone’s glances on her as she stumbled and fell down the last couple of stairs.

“Sana!”, her mother cried out, rushing to her. “Are you okay?”

Jeongyeon thought, “maybe the newlyweds do have kids already.”

After everyone has settled down again - Sana was now sitting between her parents, nibbling on a biscuit, and their parents were already eagerly engaged in a conversation about kitchen ware -, Jeongyeon inconspicuously took a peek at Sana. There weren’t a lots of other children in the neighborhood, so she was extraordinarily curious about a new face.

“Sana, do you go to school yet?”, Jeongyeon’s mother asked her, and Sana shyly nodded her head.

“Oh, to which one? Our Jeongyeon is in Yongsan.”

“Yongsan? Sana got accepted last week!”

“No kidding! We-“

Jeongyeon’s thoughts drifted apart to focus on things that were more fun (like baseball, maybe, or planning pranks she could pull on Seoyeon) so she was surprised to hear the words “Jeongyeon is going to walk to school with Sana, aren’t you, darling?”, out of her mother’s mouth.

She looked to her father, who was vaguely nodding beside her mother, and she slowly said, “sure. Guess I will.”

So it came that Jeongyeon walked down the road with her brand new friend Sana in silence - because she was still pretty new to school and hadn’t made any other friends yet - but Sana didn’t seem to mind.

Jeongyeon, on the other hand, feverishly tried to think about a topic that they could talk about. She wasn’t used to silence, that’s probably why her uneasiness bloomed, since with two older sisters, there actually was no way she could have been used to it.

“So, do you”, Jeongyeon began, cautiously avoiding a puddle near the pavement, “have any, uh, hobbies?” Sana shrugged in response, tugging her backpack’s straddles closer to her chest.

“I don’t know. In Japan I danced, but I don’t think you can do that here.” She thought about it for a second, then added, “can’t you?”

“Dunno. Dancing’s lame.” Jeongyeon was kicking a pebble over the pavement, too focused on it to notice Sana’s frown.

“It’s not!”, she bawled, and Jeongyeon pulled a sulky face.

“Well, what do you think is better than dancing?” Sana slightly raised her chin, sniffling.

“I’m in the school band!”, Jeongyeon proudly exclaimed, her chest swelling, “I play the saxophone.”

“The what?”

Jeongyeon gave her the evil eye when Sana scoffed at her.

“Very funny.”

They didn’t talk much after that.

When Jeongyeon thinks about Sana now, she realizes that she doesn’t hold a lot of memories with Sana that include school - they didn’t see each other often there, after all. Sana and she weren’t in the same class, and they chose different after school activities as they didn’t really fancy each other’s interests.

Because of this circumstances Jeongyeon’s mother would usually shove Jeongyeon to Sana’s house, right after she finished her homework, to force them to become friends. That’s how it appears to the both of them, at least ; since Seoyeon and Seuyeon shared a bond that more or less excluded Jeongyeon completely, her mother had always been eager to find a friend for her that’s not a stuffed animal.

They weren’t exactly close in the beginning, but the forgotten child (Jeongyeon) and the lonely one (Sana) were bound to function together eventually.

“So…… what do you want to do?”, Sana asked, lazily caressing the grass beneath their feet. It was the first warm day that spring had brought upon Seoul, and they had celebrated it with Sana’s favorite ice cream flavor (banana chocolate). Now they were laying on the ground, watching the clouds sneaking through the sky - Jeongyeon’s eyes were close to flutter shut, she was already half asleep, when Sana screamed in excitement, “Wait, I have an idea!”

“I didn’t say anything”, Jeongyeon mumbled, closing her eyes and sighing in satisfaction. This is a good day, she thought. Warm air, cold ice, and a soft- touch on her arm?

She rapidly opened her eyes, just to see Sana kneeling in front of her.

Jeongyeon crawled back - jumped back - as a response to Sana’s face this uncomfortably close to hers.

She hadn’t even hugged Sana, nor hold her hand. She wasn’t sure how physically close friends were supposed to be - her classmates always fought and put each other in headlocks. Jeongyeon didn’t really look forward to fight with Sana, so she tried to put her one arm-length away.

“….and now I’m getting the cardboard”, Sana bubbled, causing Jeongyeon to narrow her eyebrows. What had she silently agreed to?

Before she could blink, the both of them had cut, painted and readied the cardboard - until a crooked, cramped vehicle stood before them.

“What’s this?”, Jeongyeon deadpanned, never having been included in Sana’s plan of whatever this was supposed to be. Sana sulked for a moment, then she shrugged and jumped right into it.

“It’s a rocket, Jeongie!” She brightly beamed at Jeongyeon, who frankly didn’t know what to confront first (the “rocket” or the awful nickname). She decided that the vehicle was more important.

“Why a rocket?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and Sana sighed loudly, rolling her eyes.

“Because, duh! Let’s go to space!”

Jeongyeon hadn’t ever had any toys, and maybe that’s why she sucks at playing pretend so much.

After a long, long fight about how, when, where and most importantly why fly to space, Sana just cried out, “Jeongyie, it’s called having fun!” That hit a bit too deep, so she accepted her destiny and crawled in the front of the rocket. Sana’s knees were drilling into her back, pretty much, and she was way too close for Jeongyeon’s liking, but she didn’t complain. Rather, she asked, “what now?”

“Now-“, Sana suddenly lets out a high scream which made Jeongyeon flinch so hard she jumped, “there, Captain Yoo! You have to avoid the meteors!”

Jeongyeon tried to fight the grin that was building on her lips, but since Sana couldn’t see her anyway, she decided to let it shine.

“Hold onto something!”

It was more fun than she thought. They played Pretending more than anything else, for a reason Jeongyeon couldn’t really name ; as the only child of her parents, Sana had gotten everything she ever wanted. They were outside most of the time - the weather was nice and one had to enjoy it as long as they could -, but the first time Jeongyeon had entered Sana’s room she got a shock on the massive amount of toys laying around.

There was tea parties, starring not only Jeongyeon’s Turd but also Sana’s Momo (Jeongyeon learned that Momo meant peach in Japanese, which was funny, because Momo was a big stuffed apple toy).

Those were fun, of course - as well as playing father, mother, child. When Jeongyeon was the mother, Sana was the father, and when Sana wanted to be mother, she forced Jeongyeon to be the child. Jeongyeon didn’t really get the system, but it was nice anyways. Either way, Sana always took care of Jeongyeon, which she wasn’t quite used to - but this was something she could definitely adapt herself to. Getting her hair stroked and braided - Sana adored her long hair -, eating freshly baked cookies? That was a life she wanted to have.

Going to space remained her favorite, though. Maybe because it was a whole different world - something unachievable yet made possible. By Sana.

When they sat in that tiny rocket purely made out of paper and dreams, they were someone else. They weren’t the kids that sat alone at lunch in school, neither children being suffocated or forgotten by their parents. Suddenly, they were space rockstars, jumping from one star to another, mesmerizing galaxies under their feet. It was way better than anything else, and for that Jeongyeon loved Sana.

Sana made herself indispensable to her. With Sana, Jeongyeon could laugh and be happy and fly. That’s what love was to Jeongyeon, and Jeongyeon loved her very much.

Jeongyeon’s thirteenth birthday was one of the best memories she kept close to herself. It was just the two of them. They rode their bikes up to Sana’s house, ate the muffins Sana had brought (with blueberries, Jeongyeon’s favorite) and stayed up until late night, whispering secrets to each other. Not really secrets, because they knew everything about each other, but the things that could count as such. Dreams. Wishes. Crushes. Not really crushes - Sana stubbornly held onto claiming that she “only liked Jeongie” and Jeongyeon thought the same, but never could swallow her pride and said it back.

It was the best birthday Jeongyeon ever had. Mostly because it was the last one she spent with Sana.

It’s not like Sana wanted to leave. She was a child, after all - if her parents left, she had to go, too.

Still. When she told Jeongyeon under tears that she would move to Japan tomorrow, the world they had built up these past years crumbled down, leaving black only.

They promised they would keep in contact, but very similar to their shared memories, the promise quickly faded along the years. Jeongyeon doesn’t remember who stopped calling back ; it doesn’t matter, anyway. It has been five years.

Five years and Jeongyeon had found new friends - there’s Mina, sweet Mina who shares her humor, and Jihyo, on whom she can always rely on - and Sana faded. Simply as that.

She didn’t forget her, but the things she stood for.

When the thick layer of dust on their rocket is about to suffocate it, Sana comes back.

“Have you heard? There’s a new girl in our grade”, Jihyo announces, poking Jeongyeon in the side when she doesn’t react right away. Jeongyeon grunts, the sudden attack on her ribs making her flinch and resulting in the pencil in her hand sliding away under the piece of paper. “Great, now I can start again”, she mumbles under her breathe. She doesn’t mean to be passive aggressive, especially not towards Jihyo, but she can’t help it. Art class isn’t her favorite, actually one of her less good classes (she prefers practical stuff, maths and biology ; stuff that makes sense and is connected logically), and the rough stroke of her pencil ruined what couldn’t be saved, anyway.

“A new girl, really?”, Mina speaks up, subtly patting Jeongyeon’s leg under the table to display empathy.

“Yeah!”, Jihyo beams, obviously delighted with someone being interested in her news. “Apparently she’s from Japan. She used to live in Korea, so she’s fluent. I’ve volunteered to show her around - is it alright with you guys if she joins us at lunch?”

“Sure”, Mina approves, looking curious at the thought of someone new to enter their lives, and Jeongyeon absentmindedly says, “I guess.”

“Japan”, “used to live in Korea” and “fluent” did ring a bell in Jeongyeon’s mind, but with her catastrophic art project and Seoyeon’s birthday next week (she still hasn’t bought anything as a gift), she shoved the dull feeling in her stomach away. She’s going to deal with it later.

Jeongyeon doesn’t appear to lunch, she rather spends her (valuable, very valuable) time searching for Chaeyoung, the only one that could save her art project at this point. Jeongyeon doesn’t have high hopes, but the drawing is due today, so she kind of has no other options. She considers just to “fuck it” and not finish it, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She has to maintain her good grades, there’s no space for “fuck it”.

“Oh”, is the only thing Chaeyoung says as a greeting when Jeongyeon hands her the pathetic drawing, accomplished by a mix between disgust and empathy.

“Can you fix it, please?”, Jeongyeon sighs, trying to ignore her whining stomach, crying for the lunch she hasn’t had yet.

“Sit down.” Jeongyeon watches Chaeyoung erasing and drawing some lines in silence, before Chaeyoung speaks up, “have you met the new girl yet?”

Jeongyeon needs a moment to remember the news about the new student from Japan.

“Oh, uh, no”, she answers, shifting her weight on the chair. “Have you? What is she like?”

“Pretty”, Chaeyoung absentmindedly says, “your type.”

“How would you know what my type is like?”, Jeongyeon huffs, turning a bit sheepish when she sees Chaeyoung’s grin, not having realized she was only joking. “Very funny”, she says nonetheless, cheeks a bit pink.

“Anyway, she seems nice and stuff”, Chaeyoung goes on, drawing the last lines on Jeongyeon’s piece of paper, “I think she’s into skinship. Hugged Jihyo and Mina a lot. Here you go.”

Jeongyeon takes it with a frown (the bell is ringing in the back of her head, but not loud enough for her to hear it). “Thanks. I owe you one.”

Chaeyoung waves it off and Jeongyeon leaves with a somber feeling in her stomach.

By the time school finally is over, Jeongyeon has forgotten about the new student completely. She turned her (now not that bad looking) drawing in, thought about a gift for Seoyeon (a watch, as her original one broke last month) and is now sitting in the bus, headphones in and trying to relax while the bus chugs over the street.

She has almost fallen asleep to soft sounds in her ears, someone lightly taps on her shoulder. Jeongyeon slowly opens her eyes - a girl she’s never seen before smiles at her, and Jeongyeon hesitantly takes out one earbud. “Hi?”

“Hi!”, the girl breathes, and Jeongyeon can’t help but to be reminded of someone at the sweet voice.

But who? Who is it that this girl reminds her so strongly of?

“Can I sit here? I wouldn’t have asked but there are no seats left, so…” When her last words linger in the air, Jeongyeon gazes at the empty seat beside her, currently occupied by her school bag.

“Uh, sure.” Jeongyeon clears her throat - her voice sounds unusually raspy after having not spoken for a while - and quickly pulls her bag onto her lap so the stranger can sit down.

“Thank you so much!”, the girl chirps, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Unconsciously, Jeongyeon straightens her back.

She can’t put the puzzle pieces together.

“What are you listening to?”, the girl starts to initiate a conversation, showing zero indications that she could be afraid of annoying Jeongyeon, and even leans in to look at her iPod’s screen.

High voice. Hair flipping. Absolute confidence without appearing arrogant - and not knowing private space.

“What’s your name, by the way? I’m-“

“Sana.”

Jeongyeon stares at her, appalled.

Oh, my god.

It’s Sana.

Sana, about whom she hasn’t thought about in a good three to four years - Sana, the first (and best) friend she ever had.

It feels like two Jeongyeons are colliding, the quiet, insecure and lonely twelve year old her and the one she is today. The one who learned to fake it.

Sana’s has been back for a good ten minutes and she’s already managed to turn her world upside down.

Jeongyeon shakes the thoughts away which are humming aggressively in her head like bees. She’s going to deal with this later, when no one can witness her breaking down. She has always disliked showing weakness, but towards Sana it might be especially bad.

“Yeah!”, Sana confirms, looking just a tad confused, “but how do you…”

Jeongyeon watches Sana’s face light up when she realizes, and her heart squeezes itself. She doesn’t know how she didn’t immediately recognize Sana - she’s hasn’t changed in the past five years, at all. Her hair isn’t a black bob, anymore, sure (it’s longer now, and brownish) - but the way she smiles, how she doesn’t seem to have an ounce of insecurity in her body? It’s all the same. It’s her old Sana.

Jeongyeon wonders if - despite her desperate tries not to be - she’s still the same Jeongyeon.

“…Jeongie”, Sana breathes out, and Jeongyeon flinches. She hasn’t heard that nickname in years. Sana was the only one allowed to call her that, actually, and to hear it now does things to her stomach.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you again!”, Sana bubbles, all excited, taking Jeongyeon’s hands into hers, softly squeezing them. Jeongyeon suppresses another flinch and smiles wearily.

This can’t be real.

“What have you been up to?”, Sana asks her in curiosity. Others would think Sana has her head in the clouds and doesn’t realize Jeongyeon doesn’t want to talk, but Jeongyeon knows her too well. Sana can be charmingly empathetic if she wants to, but she’s always preferred teasing in terms of Jeongyeon, they both know that.

“Oh, you know”, Jeongyeon makes a hand gesture that doesn’t reveal anything, really, and Sana pouts in response.

“Come on! What are your friends like? Are you in a relationship?”

Jeongyeon tries to pull her hands out of Sana’s firm grip softly, but it happens more roughly and is definitely not unnoticed by Sana.

“Um, my friends are pretty great”, she answers quietly, trying to ignore the relationship topic (she doesn’t really want to hear about all the boys that surely lined up for her in Japan). “What about you?”

“Oh, I had a girlfriend, but we broke up a year ago”, Sana hums.

That solves the question of Sana’s sexuality. Jeongyeon nods, not quite knowing what to say, so she just stays silent.

Sana restlessly bounces on her seat, obviously struggling with concentrating - a habit she’s kept until this day, Jeongyeon thinks, she remembers Sana complaining about the teachers scolding her for being distracted. She doesn’t quite know what to say. What to think. To feel.

She leans her head against the window, trying to take a peek outside as if the answers were written out in the sky. In fact, the only thing she sees is Sana’s reflection in the glass, so she closes her eyes. She’d rather see black.

“Are you just going to ignore me, Jeongie?”

Jeongyeon has closed her eyes, but she knows Sana is fake pouting, nonetheless.

“Don’t call me that.” It comes out harsher than meant to, and Jeongyeon feels guilt dragging her down when Sana flinches.

“I-It’s just”, she lets out a breath, interweaving her hands to stop them from shaking (Sana’s sudden appearance didn’t go unnoticed by her body, either), “no one’s called me that in years. It’s just Jeongyeon now.”

Sana gives her a look she can’t quite read. Pity? Grief? When it was the two of them, Sana was responsible for human interaction, so Jeongyeon kind of lacks it now. Either that or Sana is the most difficult puzzle created.

“Okay. Jeongyeon it is.”

Now even Jeongyeon can hear the sarcasm dripping off her voice, and she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me you still want to be called Shibana”, Jeongyeon defends herself, referring to the old nickname of Sana which is put together by “Shiba” and “Sana”.

“If you’re the one calling me it, why not?” Sana smirks when Jeongyeon averts her gaze, uncomfortable with Sana staring her directly in the eye.

Looking at her nails, Jeongyeon physically tries to make her hot blush go away (it doesn’t work, instead she almost pops a vein) that crept onto her cheeks when Sana talked back so nonchalantly.

As a child, Sana was savvy, sure, knew how to get her way (she is an only child after all), but now she’s this casually, eating-you-up-with-her-eyes type of person who could make anyone fall for her. It’s highly confusing, and having someone’s full attention at her had always made Jeongyeon feel both somewhat soaring and uncomfortably, being put into a spotlight she didn’t ask for. Which is an explosive mixture, so she feels like she should be putting Sana on an arm length.

“Where do you live?”, she mumbles, still not raising her chin.

“Sorry?”, Sana leans in, her hair brushing on Jeongyeon’s neck, and Jeongyeon flinches, now almost sitting outside the bus. A bit exaggerated, but at this point it feels like she’s pressing her body against the bus’ wall to escape Sana’s private space. Being this close to her bothers her for some reason she can’t put her finger on.

“Where do you live? This married couple from the country side took your old house, so where you live now?”

“Oh! About fifteen minutes away from your home”, Sana answers. “By bike, though. Isn’t it funny we’re living so close together again? Must be fate!”

“Yeah, fate”, Jeongyeon confirms, just to answer anything. She isn’t sure whether to believe it or not.

They’re silent for the rest of the ride, even though Sana doesn’t seem to mind ; she’s having fun doodling small hearts and stars on Jeongyeon’s hand, but Jeongyeon barely notices.

She feels like she isn’t in control, which is an emotion she loathes, mainly because she isn’t used to it. In middle school she used to do group presentations by herself because she wanted to know what information they were going to present, which gave her the image of a nerd.

Jeongyeon just cannot deal with this uprising fear of worlds crashing ; that she could turn into someone she was five years ago. Someone vulnerable, lonely, dependable. She’s afraid that Sana could be the sun melting her plastic armor, made of fake confidence.

Jeongyeon gets up when the bus starts to get slower, holding her breath when she gets past Sana’s seat, and is ready to get off when Sana suddenly grabs her sleeve.

“Jeongie- Jeongyeon, wait!”, she quickly stumbles over the words, standing up and gathering her belongings, “I need your number!”

Jeongyeon feels the gaze of at least ten people sitting near to them, and it’s not the first time she wishes Sana had a less loud voice.

The first time was when they were nine and Sana went on and on about how hurt she was that Jeongyeon responded to her compliment with a fart sound in public. Second time was when she jumped at Jeongyeon after having not seen her for a whole two days. Third time was- you get the deal.

Her cheeks redden when she hears muffled laughs, obviously aiming at them, and she jerks her arm so Sana’s forced to let go. She instantly regrets treating her harshly when she sees the confused (hurt) expression in her eyes.

Averting her gaze, Jeongyeon searches for her phone and hands it to Sana.

“Here. You can just overwrite your old one.” Jeongyeon hopes Sana won’t tease her for keeping her old number despite not staying in contact.

Sana hesitates, cautiously taking the phone, obviously feeling bad for making Jeongyeon embarrassed, but eventually, she does type in her number.

“Then- see you, Sana”, Jeongyeon clears her throat, awkwardly waving before rushing out, not waiting for an answer.

Breathing in the fresh air when she’s finally outside, Jeongyeon clasps her phone, pressing it against her chest.

Maybe it’s because they haven’t seen each other in years - that their reunion was sudden and sharp -, but the way they act around each other has gotten a crack. Sana seems eager to fix it, Jeongyeon thinks ; she herself doesn’t know what to think about this. About Sana coming back.

She has a lot of things to figure out.

That Sana is around her the whole day doesn’t make it easier to think. She visits her high school, they even have some classes together, and Jihyo has basically adopted her. Mina likes her, too, and Jeongyeon’s with them all the time, so she’s forced to be with Sana. Not that she dislikes it - that’s the furthest from the truth -, but it makes her weirdly conscious of herself. The way she moves and talks and laughs ; she wonders if Sana thinks that she has changed.

Jeongyeon doesn’t know if she’d prefer whether Sana thought that she did or believed that she didn’t.

“We want to go out, eating and then hanging out a bit”, Jihyo’s voice rings metallically through the phone and to Jeongyeon’s ears, “are you coming?”

“Who’s we? You, Mina, me?”, Jeongyeon asks, cursing under her breath when she almost drops the mug she’s balancing on a stack of books, “… Sana?”

“Yup! We’re all in. So, you’re coming?”

Jeongyeon’s coming, but she regrets it right after they meet. Even though she sees the world through oblivious eyes, she still noticed that Jihyo and Mina like each other. She found out by her genius detective skills, and also because she had caught them sharing a kiss so pure she felt bad for interrupting them.

Anyhow - Mina and Jihyo are mostly busy with each other, holding hands under the table and drawing circles on each other’s thighs (Jeongyeon knows they think she doesn’t notice, but unfortunately she does), so Sana and Jeongyeon are left alone. Not that Sana minds. She has fun teasing Jeongyeon, whether it’s by squeezing her hands or ruffling her hair.

Jeongyeon lets it happen ; it feels nice, she has to admit, someone caring about her. No, it’s not to be cared about what she enjoys - she has her family and her friends, all those people that love her -, but to be taken care of. Jeongyeon is usually the one to fuss over her friends, she asks Chaeyoung about her art projects, cheers for Jihyo at karaoke and knits with Mina because she knows Mina likes to have quiet company. But she isn’t used to be given a lot of attention herself. Sana on the other hand has the very charming characteristic to spend all of her focus on the person she’s talking to. Or, in their case, touching.

It’s nice, but very distracting, so Jeongyeon eventually grabs Sana’s hand when it wanders a bit too low on her thigh, squeezing it slightly and not letting go. She can tell that Sana is suppressing a smirk. Jeongyeon is trying to focus on giving her face a normal skin tone (she considers it to be bright red, if the heat on her cheeks is a sufficient indicator), but, like many things in her life right now, it’s not working. Maybe she just has to give up. Sana always wins, anyways. Jeongyeon isn’t quite ready to let go of control in total, so she decides to dig a bit.

“Seoyeon?”, she asks, jumping on her bed. Seoyeon turns around, pulling out one earbud. “What is it?”

“Do you remember Sana? You know, my best friend when I was a kid.”

“Duh”, Seoyeon rolls her eyes, “you two were basically glued together. Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know. She moved back here, and I wondered if we had any photos or something to show her”, Jeongyeon lies. Saying “I want to get the upper hand” doesn’t sound as nonchalant.

“How would I know?”, Seoyeon mumbles under her breath, then speaks up, “I honestly don’t know much. Wasn’t her favorite ice cream flavor banana chocolate? You’d always buy it for her.” Jeongyeon gets this image of her buying Sana ice cream and making her speechless with how she managed to remember her favorite one over multiple years, and her heart becomes a bit lighter.

“Thank you so much, Seoyeon. That’s perfect.”

So she invites Sana over. “Come in”, Jeongyeon says when Sana stands in front of her, wearing a bright smile that somehow twists Jeongyeon’s stomach. It’s the hunger, surely.

“Are you hungry?”, she asks when Sana steps in, barely being able to suppress the triumphant grin in her face when she imagines an actual speechless Sana. The grin is wiped off her face when Sana answers, “nope, not really. Do you want to go upstairs?”

So much to Jeongyeon’s master plan to stay in control.

She lets Sana walk before her because she knows Sana tends to slip, even though she doesn’t know what she would do if Sana actually fell. Try to catch her, just to appear as the hero (with a dozen of broken bones, probably)?

Closing the door behind the two of them - Jeongyeon hopes her family won’t get the wrong impression -, she gets down on her bed, gesturing Sana to sit down next to her. It’s the same bed she’s had since she was a child, and Sana climbs onto it as if she’s had done nothing else in years. Maybe certain movements are like riding a bike, Jeongyeon wonders briefly, even if they’re left in the dark, you still remember them eventually.

Sana sits cross-legged like she always used to, and melancholy cuts through Jeongyeon like a knife. “So, what did you have in mind for today?”, Sana asks her, leaning against the wall.

“Dunno”, Jeongyeon exhales. The sudden attack of melancholy confused her so much she forgot why she invited Sana in the first place. “Want to watch a movie?”

They watch Ghost, only because Jeongyeon’s parents are strictly against Netflix (for whatever reasons, she doesn’t know) and it’s the only DVD she owns (Seungyeon had given it to her as a Christmas present).

In the beginning, there’s a polite gap between the both of them, each minding it ; by the middle, Sana’s head has fallen into Jeongyeon’s lap, and at the end Jeongyeon’s attention lays on playing with Sana’s fingers - as she already knows the movie by heart, of course, not because she wants to hold hands.

Being with Sana can be incredibly nice when Sana is quiet, Jeongyeon thinks as she gently intertwines their fingers. She doesn’t have to cautiously evaluate her words in order not to get teased by Sana (even though Sana would always find something to mock her with), she can just breathe.

She wonders if Sana can feel her heart beat pulsating in her finger tips.

Movies naturally make Jeongyeon idle, and she supposes Sana’s the same as neither of them stands up when the end credits of Ghost run over the screen. “Did you like it?”, Jeongyeon yawns, not trying to suppress it. “We could reenact it”, Sana suggests. Jeongyeon frowns.

“We would have to do pottery.”

“Yeah, maybe not such a good idea after all.” Sana stretches herself, and Jeongyeon’s gaze wanders down to her exposed stomach. When Sana’s eyes search hers, Jeongyeon unsnaps and clears her throat.

A look at the clock above her desk tells her it’s probably about time to offer Sana some kind of snack, and Jeongyeon suddenly remembers her original plan. It seems silly now - impressing Sana by remembering a small detail, desperately trying to equalize their positions because she can’t stand Sana being more in the picture than she is? Extremely immature, Yoo Jeongyeon, she scolds herself in silence and gets up. It is time to eat dinner, any way.

“Wanna eat something, Sana?”

Sana sits down at the Yoo family’s dining table while Jeongyeon is rummaging in the fridge, searching for the ice scream she had bought before. “Have you renovated your kitchen?”, Sana asks, drumming her nails on the wooden table, creating a soothingly constant sound.

“Yeah, about two years ago”, Jeongyeon answers absentmindedly, “here you go.” She pulls out the bucket of banana chocolate ice cream. Sana’s face lights up so fast Jeongyeon’s cheeks heat up a bit.

Cute.

“Oh, you remembered my favorite! Jeongie, you’re the best.” She gives her a big smile Jeongyeon returns with an only halfhearted eye rolling. Sana’s smiles aren’t rare - she basically goes through life shining brighter than the sun itself -, but the way she radiates is charming nonetheless. If one looks at Sana, they feel like the only person in the world that matters to her.

At least, that’s how Jeongyeon feels.

They eat the banana chocolate ice cream in peace (Jeongyeon only reluctantly; it’s Sana’s favorite, not hers). She watches Sana slightly bouncing her legs under the table and wiggling her upper body as she enjoys her favorite dessert. Sana is so obvious about what’s temporarily going on with her- Jo, disgust, a sulkily stubbornness -, but Jeongyeon always misses the bigger picture. As if it teasingly jumped away when she’s just about to catch it.

She finds herself looking at Sana for much longer than what would be considered appropriate.

In the end, Jeongyeon doesn’t know what Sana thinks about her, what their relationship is like, and it kind of drives her nuts. Are they friends? Mere acquaintances? Somewhat close, but not that much?

She doesn’t know, not with Sana.

She can’t stand it.

It has nothing to do with Sana (not really). Feeling out of control, being pulled away from the steering wheel, putting on a heavy mask despite not wanting to - it’s what makes her stomach-twisting, heavy-hearted uncomfortable. It’s one of her bigger flaws, but she can’t help it. Not really.

Jeongyeon wants to know Sana’s heart so badly - just to know if Sana feels the same warmth when she looks at Jeongyeon -, but she doesn’t know how to find out.

Until she does.

They’re on Sana’s bed one night after Sana suggested Jeongyeon could stay over (“Just like we used to”), and in absence of something better to do, they play Wii sports. When Sana whined about missing the archery goal for the tenth time, Jeongyeon drew an imaginary bow to her head and shoots. They then switched to bowling.

“I’m bored”, Sana yawns after they turned off the Wii (turns out that Sana is extraordinarily good at bowling, so it wasn’t fun to play an unequal game). Jeongyeon watches her as she jumps onto her bed.

“Do you want to play something, Jeongie? We have Uno or-“

“Let’s play truth or dare.”

Sana gives Jeongyeon a curious look after her bold exclamation. “Really? You want to play that?”

Jeongyeon ignores the extreme stress on the word “you” and with it Sana’s teasing and sits down next to her. “Yeah. It could be fun, don’t you think?”

There is something in Sana’s eyes Jeongyeon can’t quite read, but before she can think about what it could mean Sana lowers her head and grabs her phone. “Then let’s get an app.”

The app sucks. “Why is it asking me to give the most attractive person in the room a lapdance?”, Jeongyeon had muttered, barely being able to hide her flustered feelings, and Sana shrugged. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

They decided to play freely after that.

“Okay”, Sana says, pompously straightening her back after she eventually has thought about a question to ask, “what’s your favorite position?”

Jeongyeon is this close to get up and leave the room, and Sana must see the look in her face because she quickly adds, “it’s a joke, Jeongie.”

Jeongyeon deadpans at her, and Sana sulks. “Okay, i get it. Then… who was your first girlfriend?”

Now Jeongyeon knows where Sana is getting at.

“A girl in my grade last year”, she slowly answers, “Jiyeon. She was, uh, pretty and stuff, but we didn’t work out.”

She doesn’t want to dig out the story about Kim Jiyeon, a bit to sharp for Jeongyeon’s vulnerable self-esteem. It was short and hurting and when Jeongyeon thinks about her now, she doesn’t feel the stinging pain that used to linger in her chest.

“What about you?”

“No, you have to ask the question!”

Jeongyeon needs a moment to come back to the present.

“Uh, truth or dare?”

Sana beams. “Dare.”

Jeongyeon is slowly realizing plans do not work that quite well with Sana.

“Um”, she says, trying to come up with literally anything, “tell me about your first girlfriend?”

“I think that’s against the rules, Jeongie”, Sana snorts, and Jeongyeon tries hard to suppress her grin. “I don’t think there’s rules in truth or dare, Sana.”

“Okay, okay”, Sana puts her hands up in fake defeat, “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. You’re nosy, by the way.” Jeongyeon huffs, but doesn’t fight back. She’s too afraid Sana’s going to call her out on her not so subtle ways of asking her about past - or current - relationships.

“Do you remember Eunha? She was in our class when we were 14.” Weird understatement, Jeongyeon thinks. Sana and Eunha were sticking together all year until they suddenly didn’t, and Jeongyeon never asked why. She was just happy her only friend put all of her attention onto her again and not some lame girl. She never liked Eunha, anyways.

She doesn’t say all of that, just confirms Sana’s statement with a small “yeah”.

“We were kind of dating, but I realized fancied someone else, so I broke up with her”, Sana says. “I’m sorry. For not telling you then, I mean.”

Jeongyeon cannot comprehend her last sentences - what does she mean, fancied someone else? -, so it takes a second before she can reply with a croaky voice, “you didn’t have to.”

“But you were my best friend”, Sana protests, and then, much quieter, “you still are.”

Jeongyeon gulps. Sana looks the most vulnerable she’s ever seen her, and just like that, Jeongyeon knows what Sana thinks about her.

They’re best friends, have always been despite obstacles, and she cannot ruin it with vague feelings that might, might not be love. She couldn’t forgive herself ruin something this rare, this pure only few ever find.

Jeongyeon thinks her feelings might show in her eyes if she doesn’t stop thinking about Sana right now, so she clears her throat to continue. “It’s your turn to ask.”

“Right.” Sana shifts her weight. “Truth or dare?”

Jeongyeon vaguely remembers a rule that says one is not allowed to choose the same option twice in a row, so she reluctantly answers, “Dare.”

Sana gives her a smile that makes her shiver. “Come with me.”

It’s chilly outside, the kind of cold that makes Jeongyeon clasp her shoulders to not tremble. The moon is shining bright, though, so when she gazes up to it, she barely notices the sudden change of temperature.

“It’s so nice when it’s peaceful like this”, Sana quietly says, and she’s right ; once Jeongyeon gets adjusted to the coldness, she can enjoy the cool air on her skin, the way the moon tints everything soft.

“Yeah, it is.”

It’s the first time Jeongyeon is in Sana’s new home’s garden, she wonders if it always looks so pretty or if it’s Sana’s influence. She squats down to take a closer look at the roses. Sana’s favorite flowers, she distinctively remembers.

“So, why are we here?”

She hears Sana stepping through the crackling grass - it has been a dry summer - towards her. Jeongyeon looks up when Sana reaches her hand out to her.

“Let’s dance, Jeongyeon.”

She pulls Jeongyeon up onto her feet, one hand laying on her lower back, the other one intertwining with Jeongyeon’s. Jeongyeon barely manages to think “What’s happening?” before Sana starts swaying her body side to side, holding Jeongyeon tightly.

“Why are we dancing?”, Jeongyeon mumbles, somewhat afraid of disturbing the peace by talking in an inappropriate volume.

“Because”, Sana whispers, “you have to let go sometime. There’s nothing more relaxing than dancing to the moon, you know, and I thought you should have tried it sometime.”

Jeongyeon is close to push Sana away (“What do you mean, I have to let go sometime?”), but in the end, she doesn’t. Sana means well. Sana’s attentive and kind and does everything to help those she loves.

And in this very moment, with Sana’s hands on her body, the silence only disturbed by their breaths indulging them, Jeongyeon wants to press her lips on Sana’s. She thinks she might love Sana a bit too much if it means that every time Sana smiles her hearts wrenches itself and she soars above the ground.

“Maybe dancing’s not so lame after all”, Jeongyeon mumbles. If it wasn’t for this almost magical situation, she’d never have admitted anything to Sana, well aware that would give her tons of material to tease her about.

It’s too dark so see anything but silhouettes, but Jeongyeon feels like Sana is smiling. It’s obvious in the way she talks when she says, “the saxophone is still lame, though.”

Suddenly she’s glad the night darkens everything, for her cheeks must be bright red now.

“I don’t play anymore. I think I’ve stopped when you moved away.” Sana’s hand brushes over Jeongyeon’s, holding it a bit more tightly.

“You changed a lot, didn’t you?” It doesn’t feel like a question, more like a forlorn statement, but Jeongyeon still feels like she has to answer. She doesn’t, though, rather waits for Sana to keep talking.

“Your hair…” Sana lets go of Jeongyeon’s hand (she keeps holding her close with her other one on her back, though) to gently rake her fingers through Jeongyeon’s hair.

“It used to be so long, I barley recognized you that day in the bus.” Jeongyeon’s hand automatically goes through her hair. She clears her throat, almost sheepishly.

“Yeah. I cut it right after-“ You left, she wants to say again, but it sounds like a lame excuse, so she stays silent. Sana gets it, anyway.

They’re swaying to and from, in peaceful silence, and Sana doesn’t let go of her once. Jeongyeon has felt so troubled, so restless these past months - these past years if she’s being honest to herself -, and now she almost feels too good to be true.

Maybe she only needs Sana to be happy. Maybe it’s easy like that.

They spend more time together and Jeongyeon learns a lot about Sana. It’s like picking up a book again she’s lost years ago and never finished. She has to reread the whole thing as she’s already forgotten what was in the beginning, but when she sees the words in front of her, she remembers it all.

She relearns all about Sana’s favorites: banana chocolate ice cream, dancing, dressing up on halloween, polaroids. What she dislikes, such as being ignored (Jeongyeon learned that the hard way), bugs and the color green.

They quickly become the noisy, close best friends again they were before, but something has changed.

Jeongyeon’s in love with Sana, has fallen hardly and clearly and she can’t do anything about it.

This is worse, she decides. That she has trouble breathing when Sana is too close, that she has to swallow thickly when Sana’s fingers linger a bit too long on her skin, that she feels this pain in her heart every time she thinks about how Sana can not possibly feel the same for her.

But you were my best friend. You still are.

If she truly was Sana’s best friend, she wouldn’t think about Sana being on top of her, kissing her, only wanting her.

“Ah, good morning, Jeongie! Have you already chosen a dress?”, Sana asks brightly. Jeongyeon blinks. It’s definitely to early for this, so instead of trying to simply guess what Sana could possibly mean, she opens her locker and gets her books. Sana exhales through her nose, making a pouting face. “Are you just going to ignore me?”

“What do you mean, a dress? What for?”, Jeongyeon eventually asks, only half concentrated on the conversation, in her mind she’s already in her first class.

“Uh, prom?”, Sana laughs, stopping suddenly when she realizes Jeongyeon wasn’t joking. “You didn’t forget, did you?”

“Kind of”, Jeongyeon mumbles, slams the locker’s door shut and turns to look at an incredulous Sana.

“I’m not going, anyway, so-“

“What do you mean, not going?”, Sana interludes, grabbing Jeongyeon’s hand and looking all worried. “Are you sick?”

Jeongyeon frowns, pulling her hand back before Sana can tell how much they’re shaking under her touch. “No. I never wanted to in the first place. Why, are you going?”

“Jeongyeon, we’re graduating. How can you?”

Jeongyeon takes the ringing bell as an excuse to cut this conversation short (it’s no use arguing with Sana about stuff like this, she’s too stubborn). “Sorry, I’ve got to get going. Miss Yeeun is strict about being late, so-“

She escapes Sana, who’s trying to hold her up, and quickly heads towards her class.

Maybe even talking about prom would have been better than this lesson, Jeongyeon concludes when she packs her stuff, getting ready for her next period (the arts, much less anticipated). It would be painful - Sana tends to yell when she’s upset which often ends up with Jeongyeon having a headache -, but short, and it would be over. Hopefully. Sometimes Sana won’t let go and Jeongyeon has to do her way. It’s one of her less good characteristics, only tolerated by Jeongyeon’s knowledge that Sana has the best intentions at her heart.

In the end, she’s the one to talk Jeongyeon into being brave. Into acting out of character. If she thinks about it - that’s when she has the most fun. With Sana.

Like the one time when they were ten - they skipped school for a day, pretending to having caught a cold, to go to this lake nearby. “You can never experience it this empty”, Sana had said, and it was true ; usually, half of Seoul would gather there, but then it was just the two of them, having a picnic and swimming in the cold water.

Jeongyeon sighs and internally writes a note to herself to tell Sana she’ll be going.

Once she does, she regrets it immediately. Sana’s obsessed and sadly, Jihyo and Mina are, too. She can understand the two of them - they’ve recently debuted as a couple, under lots of cheers and applause by Jeongyeon and Sana -, but Sana? Why is she so keen on going? Jeongyeon can’t understand. Sana remains the puzzle she has been since they’ve known each other.

She buys a pretty, simple dress a month before prom, mainly to shut Sana up.

“What color is it?”

“Green. Why?”

“I want something matching, silly!”

Jeongyeon’s stomach does a cartwheel when Sana talks about “matching”, as if they were a couple like Jihyo and Mina. She catches herself thinking about that more recently than before, wondering what it would be like to be able to hold hands with Sana, being the only one she looks at in that way that gives her butterflies. It’s selfish, but she wants Sana all for herself.

So she endures Sana’s talk about prom this and prom that and listens. So Sana doesn’t stop wanting to be with her.

They never talked about dates, so it shouldn’t be a big surprise when Jihyo sends a text in their group chat that says, “I’ll be picking you guys up at 8. Be ready!”. It still is, though. Sana could have anyone she wants, they all know that, especially Sana. Yet she chose her small circle of three. Since Mina and Jihyo will be stuck together all evening, Jeongyeon can even tell herself that Sana chose her. Her only.

It’s extremely comforting.

Jeongyeon plucks a fluff from her dress and puffs her cheeks. She’s been waiting for five minutes maximum, but she starts to get impatient. The dress feels uncomfortable when she sits, so she hopes they’ll turn up soon.

They do. Jihyo’s driving (as Sana dislikes it, Mina doesn’t have a license and Jeongyeon doesn’t own a car), her girlfriend is sitting next to her and Sana waves at her from the back seat as Jeongyeon approaches the car.

“Hi”, she says a bit breathless when she sits down. Jihyo and Mina greet her cheerily, but Jeongyeon only hears Sana’s excited “You look beautiful, Jeongie.” Jeongyeon lowers her head and tries not to heat up at the sincere compliment (it doesn’t work). In terms of beauty Sana is winning by far, though, in a sparkling dress accompanied by - well, Sana. Sana would still be beautiful in a jogging suit and greasy hair, Jeongyeon decides as she looks outside the window. She’d still be the prettiest person alive.

They arrive as one of the first, no one is dancing and Jeongyeon wishes she would have stayed at home, watching a movie with her sisters and eating some popcorn.

“Come on, Jeongie, let’s dance!”, Sana drags her to the very empty dance floor even though Jeongyeon tries her best to stand still. Sana has always won their physical fights, no matter how hard Jeongyeon tried to fight back.

“Patience is key”, Sana used to chuckle lightly to which Jeongyeon rolled her eyes. That’s something she doesn’t have, not with Sana, anyways. So she gets on the dance floor and dances with sheepish, shy movements to Coco Jambo. Jihyo and Mina join them right after, and soon everyone is dancing.

Jeongyeon sees Chaeyoung dancing with two other girls who look her age - how did they get in? It’s supposed to be for seniors only - and her classmates in pretty dresses and classy suits. She sees them, but mostly feels Sana ; Sana holding her hand, Sana playfully grinding against her when Low is playing. Whether she wants it or not, Sana makes sure to put herself in Jeongyeon’s entire spotlight. It feels like Sana forgets that they’re with Jihyo and Mina, that the two of them aren’t on a date. It’s always “Jeongie, do you want a drink?” or “Jeongie, let’s go outside to cool down”.

Jeongie, Jeongie, Jeongie, and she kind of gets high on being the center of Sana’s whole attention.

She also gets tipsy on the punchbowl. “Don’t you think you’re drinking a bit too much?”, Jihyo gently scolds Jeongyeon when she gets another drink.

“Why? It’s juice, Jihyo.” Jeongyeon throws her a frown. Jihyo suppresses a smile.

“Juice with about 90% tequila”, she says under a laugh, grinning when Jeongyeon splutters. “That explains the head spinning”, she mumbles, quickly moving away from the buffet and a still laughing Jihyo.

“You okay?”, Sana asks when Jeongyeon stumbles towards her.

“Yup! Totally”, Jeongyeon eagerly answers, grabbing Sana’s hand. “Let’s dance.”

She’s not that drunk - she honestly isn’t -, she’s just having fun. It’s not the alcohol that has this effect on her, it’s Sana. Sana’s always pushing her further, sometimes too far for both of their own goods, but even then they have a good story to remember. Like the time when they were seven and Sana persuaded her to do a knock-a-door-run: they ended up getting yelled at because their feet weren’t fast enough, but it was okay, Sana lighted up her mood by tickling Jeongyeon until she cried from laughing.

“I like the theme a lot”, Jeongyeon says to Sana, leaning in so she doesn’t have to scream against the music ; they’re slowly dancing to a catchy pop song, temporarily relaxing their feet. Sana tiptoes to mumble back, “Why? Because of space?”

“Yeah. The stars and planets look pretty.”

“I think so, too.” Sana looks her straight in the eye and Jeongyeon lowers her head so she doesn’t have to return Sana’s burning gaze.

They move idly for a minute without talking, and it’s so similar yet so different from the last time. The volume of the loud music is almost making them deaf, they’re forming a small part of a grand crowd, but it feels like they’re only ones existing in this world.

“Hey, Jeongie”, Sana starts talking by lightly laying her lips onto Jeongyeon’s throat (she can’t reach higher), “I’ve always wondered- do you remember? The promise you gave me?”

Jeongyeon stares down at Sana’s pale collarbones, her slightly dizzy mind trying to work out what promise Sana means. “Do you mean when I told you that I would kick your ass after you accidentally killed my hamster?”

“No, not that one”, Sana quietly chuckles despite looking quite sorry.

“I loved that pet, you know.”

“I know! I’m sorry. But I meant-“, Sana puts her hands, formerly laying on Jeongyeon’s waists, behind Jeongyeon’s neck, intertwining them. “Remember when we were eleven? I told you that I loved the sky at night and you promised me to take me to the stars one day.”

“O-Oh.” Once Sana spoke the words the memory went through Jeongyeon’s heart, twisting it in a way that makes her sick. It’s weird. How showing emotions makes her sick, makes her feel vulnerable this badly.

She decides she doesn’t want to feel sick anymore.

“Hey, Sana? Come with me.”

They’re stumbling in the Yoo family’s garden, once again bathing in bright moonlight, and Jeongyeon’s heart is soaring. “Here”, she breathes, dropping a cardboard box on the ground, “start cutting.”

It takes a while - Sana’s hands are unpracticed and the alcohol in Jeongyeon’s body feels only almost reduced -, but eventually, the rocket is done. Even more crooked, even uglier than the first one ; but they don’t care. Jeongyeon doesn’t care if her loud laughter wakes up the whole neighbor hood, doesn’t care if her new dress is getting grass stains at its hem, she doesn’t care. It’s a great, mesmerizing feeling tenderly new to her, and she’s kind of addicted to it.

Sana sits down into their rocket, cheeks red from laughing too much, her hair messy and her make up smudged, and Jeongyeon thinks, she could get used to this. Her heart pulls a bit in her chest when this unpretty, perfectly imperfect Sana smiles at her with shining eyes.

Jeongyeon grabs her dress and tries her best to waste as less space as possible while sitting down so Sana has more. It’s not necessary, though, as Sana moves up and wraps her arms around Jeongyeon’s waist.

“Where are we going, Captain?”, she teasingly ask, barely suppressing a chuckle.

“Wherever you want to go.”

They watch the street lamps shut down and the stars shyly coming out. Maybe it’s just her mind, dizzy from Sana’s breath on her neck, but they seem to try to outshine each other tonight. For the two of them.

“Look, Sana”, Jeongyeon quietly says, pointing up to them, “I told you I would take you to the stars, didn’t I?”

Sana doesn’t answer, so Jeongyeon turns around (as good as she can). Sana is wearing that weird expression - the one Jeongyeon has noticed before, the one she only had when she’s looking at her.

“Huh? What is it? … did I do something wrong?”

Sana cups her face, leans in and kisses her.

She has been kissed before - Bona liked kissing a lot -, but never liked this. Not with lips that tasted like coca cola, cheesecake and chocolate all at once, a flavor she could suck on for the rest of her life. Sana’s lips are warm, her breath is hot and her hands intertwining with Jeongyeon’s feel heated.

Jeongyeon isn’t the first one to break the kiss ; Sana slightly moves her lips to Jeongyeon’s cheeks so she can talk without losing proximity.

“Thank you, Jeongyeon. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome”, Jeongyeon stutters, swallowing thickly. She can’t think. All of her nerves are screaming for more, for Sana, and she can’t think. So she presses her lips onto Sana’s again.

She forgets that she wanted to keep their relationship platonic because she was too afraid of what could happen.

She’s not afraid anymore.

“Jeongie?”, Sana breathes, and the nickname has never sound this quite beautiful. Jeongyeon’s heart melts down to its core.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like me? I mean, what’s this?” She puts all of her feelings in the word, Jeongyeon notices, and anxiety makes her own feelings flutter.

Don’t be afraid anymore.

“Yeah. I like you, Shibana.”

Sana laughs, cheeks warm in pure felicity, and Jeongyeon squeals when Sana hugs her so hard they both fall out of the rocket and to the ground.

“I like you too, Jeongie. I have been in love with you since that day you walked me home.”

Jeongyeon could hear Sana’s confession a million times without getting tired of it ; suddenly it’s her favorite sound. Play it on repeat.

They’re laying on the cold, hard ground, the rocket forgotten, but it’s alright ; they don’t need to pretend to fly anymore.

With Sana, Jeongyeon is soaring among the other stars, anyway.