Work Text:
Okay.
First of all, Minji had expected an interview, which was, to be fair, what she had been given. (She is now sitting in front of her two possible future employers, feeling hopeful and… flustered.) No one had told her that the two people responsible for interviewing her will be gorgeous ladies, who look more like celebrities rather than café owners. And Kim Minji is never one to be composed in front of pretty women—she sure isn’t right now, in front of, hopefully, her soon-to-be bosses. (She didn’t even know if they owned the place. But they are beautiful, so they must be the bosses.)
Secondly, she had expected a serious ‘answer our questions without stuttering; do you even want to be hired?’ kind of atmosphere, which is definitely not what is happening. She looks down at the elegant cup of coffee placed delicately in front of her—a latte; not what she usually drinks but it will do for now. Again, no one told her that the interview will be conducted at one of the tables in the café, and that she will be sipping a nice cup of coffee while they were at it. The atmosphere seemed more like old friends catching up rather than a nervous woman praising herself in hopes to secure a job.
“So,” began one of the bosses. “I’m Yubin, but please call me Dami. And this,” she gestures towards the other boss, “is Kim Yoohyeon, our barista.”
(Okay, so maybe they might not be the bosses of the place.)
“Nice to meet you, my name is Minji,” she secretly congratulated herself for not making a fool of herself.
“We know,” Dami continued without looking up.
And Minji winces; she had spoken too soon. Yes, surely, they would know. They have her whole goddamn resume on the table. (With her name plastered on the top of the page in font size 32 no less.)
She sees a subtle elbow bump the other girl had given her friend, and feels her heart relax a little. But the nerves, oh god the nerves, they always have a way to get to her. She reaches for the coffee mug and picks it up gingerly; keeping herself busy is always a good way to settle herself. She stares at the hazel brown liquid, watching as the white of the milk swirled in line with her movements. Taking a sip, she is pleasantly surprised—it is perhaps the tastiest latte her tongue has ever grazed upon. If she doesn’t return as an employee, then she will surely return as a customer. (It will probably be awkward but Minji can battle anything for the sake of food and drinks.)
“Anyways, you seem to already have plenty of experience. Why choose a beginner job as a barista trainee?”
Minji has to will her brain to keep up. The girl is now staring at her. Although her expression is serious, her eyes house a certain complexity that Minji finds captivating, and there is a slight glint of curiosity that one only finds in children—young and naïve children who think the world is the most fascinating thing ever. (Minji would like to disagree; the world sucks. Big time.)
She clears her throat, albeit a little forcibly. “Well, I was actually drawn to this café because of the atmosphere. It’s cosy and warm. And since I’m studying right now, I wanted a job that is more flexible, with lesser shifts per week.”
Minji had scrolled through endless lists of job offers—all with less than desirable pay checks, packaged together with demanding hours—before chancing upon this particular cafe. The flexible working hours had caught her attention, and when she had visited the café the other day, she was immediately sold. The café sat further away from the busy street—it was cosy and quiet, yet still bustled with energy.
She had applied without batting an eyelid after. Maybe she would have edited her resume a little more tirelessly if she wasn’t so excited, and had actually bothered to enter and order herself a drink. For if she had known who will be interviewing her today, best believe she would have freaked out. Minji really wasn’t kidding when she said pretty ladies are her greatest weakness.
“I am honestly happy with starting from the beginning if it means I get to work in an enjoyable environment.” She sees Dami nodding thoughtfully, who then proceeded to ask about her previous experiences and her knowledge on operating the machines and such—the standard questions that Minji is confident in answering. With time, the nerves have melted away and she became more relaxed.
All the while, she had kept her eyes focused on Dami, eyeing the other girl only occasionally as she answered the questions thrown at her. Throughout the interview, only Dami was speaking, while the other girl—Yoohyeon, Minji recalls—merely nodded and listened. But as the interview drew nearer to its end, Minji hears Yoohyeon speak for the first time in half an hour.
“May I ask what is the best thing about being a barista for you?” Her voice is soft, slightly wavering yet somehow there was a confidence that is clearly discernible. It reminded Minji of cotton candy—fluffy, sweet and light; it was really pleasant.
When Minji turns to regard her—probably the first proper time she took a good look at her face and stared directly into her eyes—she almost regretted it. The girl is stunning, and Minji felt the urge to let out a little whisper of praise. She almost did, almost exclaimed how pretty and cute she thinks Yoohyeon is. Now, she is really starting to question whether the girl has a secret side job as a model.
In normal circumstances, whenever Minji sees a cute girl, she might stare a little and perhaps even smile if they make eye contact. Minji is perfectly alright with approaching them and praising them; flirting to her came naturally but she always makes an effort to not come off as a douchebag. It easy because she really thinks that women are beautiful.
Minji knows that she is pretty herself, knows that she has the capacity to draw people’s breaths away. Hell, she even knows how to properly wield her beauty, to make people blush. But there are times when she herself is knocked speechless—when her beauty and confidence hide away and she panics.
Like now.
And it sucks, because she is in the middle of an interview where confidence is the key.
“I-I,” her voice has turned a little hoarse. She blushes.
And Yoohyeon makes it hard not to blush. Over the years, Minji has found that people who are sincere in their actions and true with their words, made her flustered the most. Genuineness, to her, is very attractive. And it is all Minji can see in Yoohyeon’s eyes—that curious anticipation of Minji’s answer, the desire to listen and immerse herself fully in the other person.
“I-I think it’s… the people,” Minji weakly lets out. “I like to talk to customers; it’s exciting. To greet and anticipate their orders, then getting into a light conversation with them as they wait for their coffee. Getting to know each customer even a little, and then realising that you essentially know nothing about them at all. I don’t know, these interactions are really precious to me.”
She is by this point rambling, but Yoohyeon had not made the effort to stop her. Instead, she has focused her attention fully onto Minji, which made the poor girl even more nervous.
Yoohyeon’s pupils are dark, almost pitch black, but when Minji has briefly looked into them again, she finds life dancing intricately in all that darkness. Somehow, she found herself reflected in those gorgeous orbs. And wow, she could only stop speaking and gasp silently, swallowing her astonishment down her throat. (She was sure the chance of her being hired is now dropping into the negative category. Who would want to hire a candidate who ogles her interviewer?)
When she finally composes herself, she spoke meekly, “I think that’s about it. Yes.”
She glances upwards to witness Yoohyeon smiling. And Minji swears awe-struck isn’t enough to describe her being right then. She had seen many pretty faces with pretty smiles—hell, she even thinks her own smile is great—but the girl sitting across her is something else altogether. Minji was sure the room lit up and the café sparkled for a moment. It’s like she possessed a special ability to heal with that smile of hers, and she does it without a hint of pretentiousness. Together, it makes Yoohyeon so much more beautiful than she already is.
The power to leave Minji speechless doesn’t come regularly. Leaving people speechless was usually her job; she is the one who makes people panic. Now that it’s the other way around, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. It’s like she has short circuited, and couldn’t fix the problem.
So, when Dami had thanked her for coming down, she could only begrudgingly peel her eyes away from the girl’s smile and nod. As she absentmindedly walks out the door after thanking the two girls, Minji could only follow the path blindly, banking on her muscle memory or whatever to take her home.
And boy is she surprised when she has successfully reached her apartment. Somehow, she has found her way back home. (There are times when Minji surpasses even her own expectations.)
She opens the door to find her roommate sitting on the couch, stuffing her face with Tteokbokki.
“Hey Minji, how was the interview?” the girl holds the plate towards her friend and beckons for her to join on the couch.
“Tteokbokki again, Siyeon-ah?” Minji laughed, but accepted the offer nonetheless. (Is she even worthy of the name Minji, if she will refuse free food?) Siyeon only hummed and looked expectedly at her.
“What?”
“I asked how did the interview go?” she raises an eyebrow at her friend before her gaze softened, looking almost sorry and worried. “I’m sure you did great; it will be fine.”
Minji smiles, gives her a comforting pat on the knee and watched as her shoulders relaxes. (Siyeon has always been a sensitive soul. Even though she looked like she could—and would, without a second thought—punch someone in the face any moment, she is anything but tough. Minji knows for a fact that Siyeon has cried more times than she has shouted—and Siyeon shouts a lot, since she gets startled by the tiniest things possible.)
“Don’t worry, I think it went... okay.” And that was her being as truthful as she can be. She legitimately has no idea how it went, only prays that they had liked her. (Oh, they did. At least one of them definitely did.)
“That’s great! But then why are you so absent-minded? I thought you would be happier.”
Minji blushed. “I am happy!”
Siyeon narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “is the interviewer a pretty lady?”
Damn Siyeon and her unwarranted sharpness, Minji thinks. She removed her jacket and signed contentedly, “the two interviewers are both very pretty.”
*
“I think she’s not bad,” Yoohyeon started with feigned nonchalance, pointing to a particular set of documents on the table.
“Because she is pretty and definitely your type?” Yubin replies deadpan.
“Wha- Of course that’s not why! It’s because-”
“She is very pretty and most definitely your type.”
“I mean yes, but no!” She cleared her throat rather forcefully before continuing, “she has experience and was very friendly during the interview-”
“Like most other candidates were,” Yubin finished.
Yoohyeon groans. Yes, the girl is pretty. (Like hell yes, she was; Yoohyeon thought maybe she had sent her resume to the wrong place, maybe she had intended it for a modelling job instead.) And yes, the girl definitely slotted perfectly into the ‘Yoohyeon’s type’ category.
But no, those aren’t the only reasons she had considered her application. Yoohyeon prided herself as one who remains impartial against all odds, so it was a surprise that Yubin—her closest friend and soulmate, Yubin—would suggest otherwise. Ludicrous, if she were to say so herself. She will never do something like let bias cloud rationality; she’s better than that. (Of course she is, she tells herself.)
“I'm serious, Yubin!” she whines.
“I agree, let’s hire her.” The shorter of the two retreated back into the kitchen, leaving her best friend to take care of the paperwork, not missing the indignant huff that exited her mouth.
Minji’s application had caught Yubin’s eye even before the tall girl had mentioned it, so there really isn’t much of a discussion. Minji is hired—with a unanimous vote, no less. (One unbiased opinion, and another slightly biased one.)
The kitchen is a heaven like always—away from the mess where the tables and chairs lie, away from the mess none other than people. Ew, people. Not a Yubin thing. People is more of a Yoohyeon thing—maybe that’s why the girl is a barista, one who is able to greet customers with a smile on her face even when it’s literally minutes to closing the shop.
Sometimes, Yubin doesn’t understand how that is possible, doesn’t understand how her friend is able to remain cheerful and bright and radiant and happy and- So much more. So much all at once. Sometimes, she is worried that the girl might collapse just from the emotions she feels—like one day Yoohyeon would simply use up all of her energy since she always smiles so much.
But as they grew closer, Yubin realises that, sure, Yoohyeon might be expressive, but that doesn’t mean she is overly emotional. She feels many things and expresses them freely, but she doesn’t let her emotions overwhelm her and swallow her up.
Yubin knows herself to be slightly different—she is more rational, preferring to use her thoughts to guide her actions. But of course, she has feelings too—everyone has—she just never let them get the better of her. (In this way, Yubin sometimes thinks they are actually more similar than not.)
It is never difficult being with Yoohyeon. It’s like they understand each other, know each other’s boundaries and work around them. It’s always comfortable with Yoohyeon around, she makes it easy for Yubin to let loose and be a little crazy, all the while reassuring her that it’s alright for her to keep to herself when she needs or wants to.
“Yubin?” she hears, “are you okay?”
She sees Yoohyeon standing by the door looking like the whole world is about to fall apart. (And it’s because Yubin looked like she wasn’t alright and Yoohyeon is worried about her.) Yubin smiles, “Yeah? Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing much,” she returns to her chores, saving up a cup of ice cream for her friend. (In a way, that is how she tells Yoohyeon that she cares. But she’s sure, Yoohyeon knows even without her doing anything.)
From the kitchen, she hears her friend pacing about near the door and already has an idea what is bothering the girl. She rolls her eyes and ignores the groans outside.
“Yubin-ah!” she finally hears. “Yubin-ah, should I text her or give her a call?” (If Yubin didn’t have any context, she would have thought Yoohyeon is trying to contact her crush. But no, this is about a girl they are going to hire... who just happens to be Yoohyeon’s type.)
“Whatever, just text her. Seriously, you are just informing her that she is hired.”
Yoohyeon grunts again before heading off to craft the perfect text massage (one that Yubin would have to step in and send it for her, because the girl was taking way too much time).
*
“Yah, Yubin. Where are you?”
Yoohyeon hears rustling in the background before her friend's voice rings out from the speakers of her phone, “I’m at home. Why?”
“Aren’t you supposed to open the store today?” Yoohyeon frowns and checks the date. She hasn’t gotten it wrong.
“But it’s Wednesday?” Yubin says, as there more rustling from the other end is heard.
“We swapped duty remember? For this week you’re opening on Wednesday.”
It took a moment before Yoohyeon hears Yubin again; the latter clicks her tongue, “shit. I forgot. I’ll be there in 45.” And the line went dead.
Yoohyeon stares numbly at her phone and sat herself down on a café stool right beside the locked door.
Today is the first day for their new employee, and the first time Yoohyeon will be working with a stranger. For years, the duo have worked together without the addition of manpower. Drinks and people are responsibilities that belonged to Yoohyeon, while the kitchen and desserts are for Yubin to manage—although they did have a friend, Bora, who came down occasionally to help out in the kitchen.
All of a sudden, she is anxious. Not because she thinks Minji is incapable, but because she did not want to make a fool of herself. (She is sure that something will go amiss. She knows herself well enough to acknowledge her clumsiness.) And then there is the problem of how beautiful Minji is. When people complained about the world being unfair, Yoohyeon thinks maybe they are referring to something like this—clearly, there had been some biasness involved, like Minji has been crafted immaculately down to her every pore.
After a while, she sees the girl whom she has been thinking of approaching from a distance. Minji looked like she is filming a drama series rather than turning up for a barista job, and Yoohyeon can’t help but to stare. It was in the way Minji carries herself, in the way she extruded confidence but still retains the humility that many lack. Yoohyeon doesn’t know much, but she at least could tell modesty when she sees it. It isn’t that difficult to recognise—rarity is often blatantly obvious when spotted.
As the distance between them shrinks, Yoohyeon prepares her heart. Maybe for its survival in the moment to come, or for the near future. Either way, she is sure her heart will end up in the other’s possession way too soon. (See, that is one of her weaknesses—though some may call it a strength—she falls way too easily; she becomes attached way too soon. Sometimes, she hates herself for that. But somehow, she has a feeling Minji would not make her regret giving up her heart so readily.)
*
Okay.
When Minji had received the text message informing her that she is hired, she had imagined her first day to be like any other—getting to know where everything is, steering herself around the place and attempting to memorise the menu. What she hadn’t imagine, is to be sitting outside the café with her... boss? Fellow barista co-worker? She doesn’t know anymore. Minji didn’t think that she would be having a friendly conversation with Yoohyeon—of all people, it has to be her—first thing after reporting for work.
(Seriously, at this point, Minji has semi convinced herself that this job offer could very well have been a scam and that she is going to be kidnapped or robbed or something. The only thing keeping her from dashing to the nearest police station is the fact that Yoohyeon doesn’t look like a bad person. And that maybe she is enjoying her company.)
Minji had arrived 15 minutes earlier than the start of her actual shift, hoping that the extra time could be used to calm herself down, only to find that the very person responsible for making her a nervous wreck was already sitting at a table by the café door. Yoohyeon had cheerfully greeted her and invited her to sit the moment they made eye contact. (Minji almost wishes that she had not left the house early. Additional 15 minutes with Yoohyeon wasn’t exactly the plan.)
“Hey Minji! You’re early.”
“Well, I wanted to make a good impression,” she shrugged, banter evident in her tone. (Though internally, her heart is still doing somersaults while her brain hails herself for being able to even utter a word and not seem like a complete fool.)
“Don’t worry, you already did during the interview,” the girl released a short laugh, offering a little smile after. “Sorry about… this,” she gestured to the space between them, “Yubin is supposed to open the door today but she forgot; our schedules get messed up sometimes. And I don’t have the key, so we’ll have to wait.”
Minji returns the smile with her own and mutters a low, “it’s okay,” before lowering her gaze. Yoohyeon is being really friendly now that they are no longer in an interview setting, and Minji is not yet prepared to embrace this side of the girl. She feels like she is being launched back into high school, where hormones lingered thick in the air and people had crushes like they were changing clothes. (She cringes at the thought of her teenage years. Those were the times she never wants to relive.)
The thing is, Minji has always been a superb conversationalist—she has the confidence to execute it and the charisma to sustain it. But today, both of those traits have said goodbye and left her to fend for herself. What a grand betrayal, she laments.
“Nervous for your first day?” It seems like Yoohyeon has somehow sensed the panic arising; her tone was light and even a little comforting. The timbre of her voice has dropped, and she spoke in a small volume, like they are currently sharing a big secret. Weirdly, it made Minji feel a tad bit better.
“A-A little,” she said, though she would like to admit that her nervousness is in fact due to a very different reason.
“You’ll be fine,” Yoohyeon’s voice has returned to its original cheery disposition. “No matter how bad you do, it won’t be worse than my first day. I’m lucky that I half own this place.” She laughs, loud and unhindered—it is a sound Minji thinks can calm; a sound that prompts others to return with their very own.
Minji chuckles lightly, feeling her shoulders finally relax. (She didn’t even realise they had been tensed all this while.) “Really? How bad can it be?” she returns with scepticism dancing on her eyebrows.
The girl straightened her back and started almost in an excited fashion, “I accidentally used strawberry milk while trying to make a latte.” She then laughed, this time embarrassed, “then I started the expresso machine without first putting the shot glass underneath the portafilter. And I because I’m really clumsy, I was constantly slipping and falling, and one time, I even punched Yubin in the face.” She let out a high-pitched yelp, which gradually morphed into a giggle.
(Minji has never met a person with such a huge array of laughter. It’s as if the girl has a laugh for every situation, like she expresses herself through her laughter, like happiness comes so naturally to her. And Minji finds that immeasurably adorable.)
“Wow,” Minji breathes out. (She wonders whether that was an expression of amusement for the girl’s unfortunate and highly memorable first day, or just her subconscious expressing its awe for the girl herself.)
“Yeah, crazy right?” she regarded Minji with wide eyes, which softened as she smiled warmly, “what about you?”
“What about me?”
Yoohyeon shrugged, “I don’t know. Tell me about yourself? Like...” she placed her chin between her thumb and index finger, then pouted as she thought of something to ask the other. (Again, Minji thinks that Yoohyeon is so, so cute.)
“What do you major in?”
“Business, with a minor in literature.” She sees the curious glint in Yoohyeon’s eyes still lingering and continues to share about her life in university, rants about the tremendous amount of essays she has to write. She rambles on about her friends, her roommate, and even her favourite books. She talks while Yoohyeon listened, attention never drawing thin, ever unwavering—she asks specific and detailed questions, and it makes Minji feel heard, like it’s okay to keep spilling her mind and the girl will never get tired of her. It makes her feel a safety that she now never wants to let go of.
And when she finally stops speaking, Yoohyeon is still listening intensely. It makes Minji warm, like a summer’s day stirring within her heart, like she matters even though they barely know each other.
When they fall into silence soon after, the quiet was comforting, soothing, as if something meant to exist. Yoohyeon doesn’t prompt Minji to share more about herself, despite desperately wanting to know more about the girl. Sometimes, silence can be daunting, can be impossibly unpleasant and domineering—it makes Yoohyeon want to disappear in a ditch. But other times, speaking when silence is so darn perfect, can ruin a moment. And now, Yoohyeon knows talking will only destroy this charm that they somehow share.
Minji glances shyly in the younger’s direction.
(It was revealed that Yoohyeon is two years younger. And Minji had never been more impressed that someone of that age has already accomplished so much. Yoohyeon has seemed really young, but Minji had thought she was yet another one of those late twenty to early thirty-year-old ladies who looked like they never age.)
She beams at the way Yoohyeon was playing with her fingers in that lanky frame of hers, and wonders how she could’ve possibly thought Yoohyeon was older.
When their eyes meet, both knew the silence is here to stay. In each other’s gaze, they found that peace should exist between them. This moment is magical. Minji has never felt comfortable enough with a stranger to keep quiet. The urge to continue talking to fill up the void of awkward nothingness is heavy and ever-present when she encounters new people. But with Yoohyeon, it almost seems like talking is a waste. She is so contented with them simply… staring at each other, being in each other’s bubble. Yoohyeon seemed to be communicating with her through her eyes and it is powerful, so attractive that Minji burns red.
Then, she sees Yoohyeon flushes as well—that pretty pink settles softly upon her cheeks; the small smile that grazes her lips after and her shyness taking over where she lowers her gaze slowly, all painted a picture of an angel.
Minji feels her heart soaring, but knows herself to be falling.
She falls and falls, right into the abyss of affection and adoration for the younger, and never will she ever pull herself back up.
She studies the girl thoroughly—her perfect posture, her slender neck, the little lopsided smile, strands of hair that isn’t tucked behind her ear, her long eyelashes obscuring her eyes from view—and Minji wanted to shout and exclaim how pretty and cute and god damn perfect the girl is in her eyes. (Minji wonders how many times Yoohyeon has heard those words already, wonders if she will be tired of hearing it from her.)
“You know,” Yoohyeon breaks the silence finally, looks at Minji at last, and in her eyes reflect a hidden expression of apology. Sorry for breaking the peace, as if she is saying. “I really liked your answer to my question the other day.”
(Honest to god, Minji absolutely hated her answer. She didn’t even think it through—couldn’t, since her brain was fried—and regretted the fact that she didn’t answer the only question Yoohyeon had asked her perfectly.)
“Because you were rambling.”
“What?” she giggled uncontrollably, “you liked my answer because I rambled?” With each passing minute, Minji grows more amused at the other. (She did not want to readily admit that she is falling; and fast.)
Yoohyeon hummed. “Because you sounded like you really enjoyed doing your job,” she giggles and Minji wonders again, for the countless time by now, just how a human being can be this perfect. “I really really love what I do. So, when I see other people enjoying it as much, I just… feel so happy and proud, you know? I like talking to people, but I’m shy so I can’t socialise much. it’s fun when you can always tell how well people are doing when they order a drink—a tough day at work, having endless assignments in school, something great happened or maybe they just wanted a cup of coffee. You can always tell by the face.”
Yoohyeon sparkles and shines and glows like she is standing on stage and performing her best; the audience sits, unable to tear their eyes away. Minji could only take in everything and will her brain to keep a copy of the scene in front of her, almost like she wishes for the liberty to call up a picture whenever she pleases—oh, what a pleasure that must be.
Alas, they sit by the café door, wallowing in each other’s company while waiting for their busy day at work to start, wishing for time to stall and standstill.
*
Okay.
When Minji had begrudgingly accepted to take ‘outline of classic English literature’ as one of her electives, she hadn’t expected to be cooped up in the staff lounge cramming for a paper due in two days while on the verge of bawling her eyes out. Sure, she wasn’t exactly the best at said language, and sure, she might have overestimated her abilities a little. But to be pulling her hair out an hour before her barista shift starts? That’s just a bit too much.
She groans and drops her head right onto the keyboard of her trusty laptop. A chuckle came almost immediately. She glares up at her course mate in detest, who only breaks out into a full-on laughter at Minji’s plight. She had met Handong during her freshmen year, and the two have been inseparable ever since. She frowns and pouts at her friend, and receives a pat on the head almost instantly. Handong is as soft as Siyeon, and Minji had never been happier to have them in her life.
“When’s your shift starting?” Handong asks, eyeing the barista behind the cash register.
“Hm, soon.” Minji has been working at the cafe for close to seven months by now, and spends more time there than any other place—yes, even her own apartment. She heads down to the cafe before her classes start since it’s close to her university anyways, and stays after her shifts to complete her assignments.
Siyeon visits her often, and hangs out at the staff lounge like she practically lives there. By now, both Yoohyeon and Yubin are friends with all her close friends, so they don’t really mind non-staff members in the room meant for staff. Minji is never more glad to have amazing bosses, who coincidentally have also become her friends. (She has confirmed that they are indeed the bosses.)
“Should’ve taken chinese literature studies,” she hears Handong commenting.
“I can’t even speak chinese, Dongie!” Minji whines, burrowing her head further into her folded arms.
“I can.” The chinese girl says, to which Minji only groans in reply. Hell, she is only taking literature as a minor; why must she suffer like so?
She types away for the entire afternoon, feeling her eyes closing slightly with every word she manages to spew out. After arduous hours, the sentences blurs and mush into a pile of hazy mess. She sighs and drops her head again, shutting her eyes tightly and waiting for the sourness to pass.
“Urgh, I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore,” she mumbles to no one in particular.
“I can help you if you don’t mind,” Minji doesn’t have to lift her face to know who has entered the room.
She looks up to see Yoohyeon snuggling her nose into the crook of Handong’s neck, melting into the embrace. (It is an endearing habit of hers that Minji has noticed. The girl does it a lot when seeking comfort, or when she is embarrassed.)
“Of course, Minji won’t mind, Yoohyeon-ah,” Handong replies, slaps her hand across her friend’s arm and wriggles her eyebrows.
Minji sighs inwardly and groans again, face burning. She regards Yoohyeon, impressed, “you can speak English?” She did not attempt to hide her surprise.
“Self-taught, so don’t expect anything too great. But I did read this book multiple times.” Yoohyeon picks up the book lying on the table and flips through it, “it’s one of my favourites.”
Minji winces. “The phantom of the opera,” she quips, “the phantom of the opera is one of your favourite books.” (Minji hates that book; it made her life miserable, and so she cannot possibly phantom how anyone could like it.)
Yoohyeon only laughs—a sound Minji has come to love; she has concluded that it is something she would like to hold on to for as long as possible. With a shake of her head, Yoohyeon sits down beside her and glances at the essay she had written. She scoots closer to read it, and Minji could only curl up as she feels the proximity of the girl and the heat radiating from her.
Handong snickers—a little too loudly—and takes it as her cue to leave. She strolls out elegantly, not forgetting to wink at Minji one last time before exiting. Minji rolls her eyes; great, now she is all nervous and it’s all Handong’s fault. (Surely, it is Yoohyeon who has turned her into a spiralling mess, but Minji will never blame anything on that angel. So, Handong will do for now as the brunt of her attack.)
“So,” Yoohyeon looks expectedly at her, blinking innocently and waiting evermore patiently, “what are you struggling with?” (Yoohyeon is still so darn perfect even after so many months and Minji’s heart swoons; she wonders if it will ever stop beating like a roller-coaster gone mad.)
She points out certain parts of her paper and drops her jaw at the almost perfect English that tumbles out of Yoohyeon’s mouth. She muses at the way Yoohyeon pronounces the words and feels immeasurably proud of her. (The pride builds and accumulates; Minji feels almost bad for not being able to boast Yoohyeon’s abilities. She wants nothing more than to tell the world how amazing this girl is, tell the girl herself how gorgeous and downright perfect she is.)
Halfway through, Minji realises that Yoohyeon isn’t working, which isn’t really a problem in itself, not until Minji recognises that she herself isn’t working too. “Wait, who’s taking care of the counter?” she blurts abruptly.
“Minji, it’s past six.” The girl supplies lightly, like it is the most obvious thing ever. “We closed the cafe before I came in.”
“Oh god, I didn’t even notice-” she fumbles with her phone and checks the time. It’s already almost seven, which means that she had missed her shift, and also means that Yoohyeon should’ve been home by now. And definitely not suck with her and helping with her assignment. “I’m so sorry-”
“It’s fine, Minji.” Yoohyeon places a hand onto her shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “Don’t worry about it. I was able to cope, there wasn’t too many people today.”
Even after seven months, Minji continues to fall. At some point, she had asked herself just how deep is this hole of affection? Just how far can she fall before she hits the bottom?
“I saw you were pretty stressed so I didn’t want to disturb,” Yoohyeon says simply and moves her hand to hold Minji’s. “You okay? You look like you hadn’t slept for days.” Concern is thick in her tone; it made her voice viscous and Minji feels like she’s suffocating. Yoohyeon makes it so hard to breathe sometimes, constantly testing the limits of Minji’s lungs—she takes the air right out with how wonderful of a human being she is, leaves Minji feeling breathless and weak in her knees; but above everything, Minji doesn’t mind struggling if it means she gets to keep her space beside Yoohyeon.
“I’ll be here if you need someone to listen,” the girl brushes her thumb gently across the back of Minji’s hand before tracing her knuckles that are always a prominent feature of her hands.
(Yoohyeon had walked past the staff’s room several times to see Minji burying herself with her papers, typing away furiously while looking like she was on death’s bed. Seven months is long enough for Yoohyeon to realise the sheer tenacity the girl possesses; the amount of drive she has makes life seem more like a sprint than the scary marathon that it actually is. And Yoohyeon admires her for it.
She has learnt to admire many people in her life, because she sees the good in people, wants to believe that everyone is capable of great things. But what Yoohyeon sees in Minji puts her under a spotlight—one so bright, it’s only suitable for a girl this beautiful. And by beautiful, Yoohyeon means in both appearance and spirit, on the outside and in the soul. Yoohyeon thinks Minji is beautiful; she sees past the outer layers to find a girl so in tune with the world, so empathetic and kind, that it is difficult to separate her from happiness.)
“I’m just… very tired.” Minji supplies softly.
Yoohyeon hums and starts packing up the stuff spread out on the table. “Come on, I think it’s time you go home and rest properly.”
Minji only smiles weakly and closes her eyes again, the headache that has built up came crushing down.
Yoohyeon accompanies Minji back to her apartment, insists that the girl allows her to. It is late and Minji looks like she is about to collapse; Yoohyeon cannot possible bear the thought of her dragging herself home in this state.
(She tends to worry, a lot. Especially when it comes to people she cares about. She, like everyone, has insecurities and vulnerabilities; times when she hated herself and the world for being cruel to her. But above all, there will be people in her life who makes it all worthwhile. She thinks her people so precious, that she will give herself up for them.
First, there is Yubin, who is always there, who silently watches over her and protects her without asking for anything in return. Then, there is Bora, her roommate who gets on her nerves more times than she should, but who would beat down whatever to keep her safe.)
She clings onto Minji’s arm, pulling her close. There is security in having the other this near, a feeling that settles to the bottom of her heart and blooms quietly without her knowledge. She doesn’t give it a definition, feels a little too bashful to name it aloud. But she is clear what this feeling is, is clear what she should call it even before she gets the chance to shout it out of her chest.
“You’re warm,” she hears Minji slurs her words, and cracks a smile. Winter is arriving, yet it always feels too warm when Minji is beside her like this. Yoohyeon navigates her carefully, ensuring she doesn’t bump head first into a lamppost or whatever hazard is out there. (Even though Yoohyeon is sure she has experienced it more than the latter. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?)
She sits by Minji in the bus as it embarks on a bumpy ride home. The older girl struggles not to surrender to the slumber that has been brewing ever since, head rocking slightly with the motion of the bus. But Yoohyeon guides her to rest her head on her shoulders, “sleep; I’ll wake you up.” By now, she knows where Minji stays and which stop to alight at.
Yoohyeon’s voice is soft, in both volume and texture. Soon, Minji drifts off, snuggling into the younger’s neck. Soft breaths hit the skin behind her ears, but Yoohyeon wills herself to stay put; she has tensed her body to stay as still as possible. The scent of Minji’s vanilla shampoo catches her nose, and she smiles; it has become her favourite scent very easily. But she doesn’t tell Minji that, feeling shy and exposed in her fondness for the girl.
Minji. The Minji who seems to view the world so naively—like the world is beautiful and people aren’t wicked at all. The Minji who seems to smile like it’s the easiest thing, and spread sympathy like it is free. (It is, but somehow many sees it too expensive to share.)
Yoohyeon thinks of the times Minji would look out for her—taking longer shifts willingly so that Yoohyeon can rest, remembering all her favourites after she had uttered it the first time, earnestly telling Yoohyeon that she is pretty and amazing and how special she is when she had admitted to not feeling confident and pretty.
(“Yoohyeon, you are stunning.” Minji had said. Her face serious, her eyes burning with a passion. “Don’t think that you aren’t enough, because you are.”
She had held her hands tightly, squeezed them as she spoke those words aloud. She had made Yoohyeon believe, albeit only in that moment, that she truly is as beautiful as she appears in Minji’s eyes.)
Minji stirs lightly beside her. “There’s still two stops,” Yoohyeon whispers, trying to lull her back to sleep. But she shakes her head and yawns. Minji turns to look at her, regards her with those eyes that never lie. For a second, she sees the shadow of the person Minji sees, that beautiful version of herself. And suddenly, Yoohyeon sees nothing but herself being reflected; she colours pink. Even after the illusion had left, the adoration remains, oozing from every space and every pore. Minji gazes at her like she is in love, and maybe she just might be.
(And Yoohyeon feels like the luckiest person ever.)
*
“Thanks for today, Yoohyeonie,” Minji whispers in the quietest voice possible, laces their fingers together before stepping in for a hug.
Yoohyeon perks up at the nickname, holds Minji tighter and breathes out a “goodnight,” as she presses her nose under the girl’s ear. They stay in each other’s arm for a while, neither wants to let go, as doing so means Yoohyeon will have to leave and both hate the idea of separation right now. They stand in front of Minji’s apartment, huddled under the dim hallway lights; the moon is full and bright today, it shines with an intensity that almost mirrors the sun.
“I think you really should go and sleep,” Yoohyeon whispers against Minji’s neck, noting the subtle shiver her voice has caused. But she doesn’t let go, like her muscles have frozen over completely.
Minji pulls her closer still, hugs her even tighter until she could not no longer breathe properly. She doesn’t want this moment to end, not knowing what else to do but to embrace Yoohyeon until she melts in her arms. Yoohyeon feels so comfortable and she fits so nicely within her frame, it almost scares her.
Then, there was this irrational fear that Yoohyeon might not be enjoying the moment like she is, that Yoohyeon is simply begging to be released so that she can finally head on home. She utters, unsure, “can we stay like this a little bit longer?”
“Of course.” Yoohyeon holds her more securely, “we can stay like this for as long as you want.”
Just like that, the fears melt away and Minji feels invincible. Because Yoohyeon is there with her, because Yoohyeon is there for her.
She doesn’t really remember how they managed to separate from their embrace, but they did, with Yoohyeon looking at her softly like she always does. In that moment, it was yet another silence, one that spells love in big bright letters. It is always like so with Yoohyeon, quiet moments of serenity seem so loud and overwhelming. (Minji thinks it’s because in this silence that belongs to them and only them, their feelings multiply and bloom, they overfill and flows out all at once. And it is this sudden burst of affection that seems to catch them by surprise.)
In this sea of emotions, somewhere in the deepest depths, perhaps there lay a confidence that Minji desperately need right now. And when she finally finds it, Minji feels herself becoming weightless, like she can fly even in a windless night.
She sees Yoohyeon beneath the moonlight, looking as pretty as ever, like she had invented the word. (It also makes her wonder: when has Yoohyeon not look pretty in her eyes?)
Courage turns Minji bolder, less restrained.
She presses her lips onto the tip of Yoohyeon’s nose, gently cradling her face with both of her hands. She smiles as she pulls away and watches as Yoohyeon blushes a deep red, from her cheeks to her ears and down her neck. Minji laughs and snuggles back into the crook of her neck; then, she whispers the words that has bubbled inside her all this while, traces them back to their very first meeting in that interview, “you are so cute, and precious, and perfect.”
She doesn’t say the obvious, still doesn’t want to strip herself of every layer. But then, Yoohyeon stares at her like that was the first praise she had ever received in her entire life, as if she there isn’t customers who find her pretty and shower her with compliments every day. Minji knows Yoohyeon has heard those three words anyway; she gives up trying to deny her feelings, to deny the obvious.
“Me too,” Yoohyeon breathes, and Minji has never felt more alive. Of all the words she could've uttered, she chooses to speak these two words—an acknowledgement of Minji's confession, and a silent declaration of her own love. She has read Minji better than Minji has read herself.
Under the white moon, they laugh like co-workers, like old friends, like something more.
Under the darkened skies, they find each other again and again, like fated lovers do.