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Snowflakes descend slowly from the sky, twirling gracefully through the air and settling down alongside their comrades, leaving a dusting of pure white against the earthy ground. A smattering of clouds lay scattered across the inky black sky, just enough to partially shield the stars from view.
Inside, the fire crackles, its warmth curling around Yuqi’s petite figure as she sits by the window. Her knitted blanket wraps snugly around her shoulders, its mismatching patches of colours and warmth reminiscent of home, of family.
As Yuqi sits on the edge of the window seat, memories of days of innocence and her childhood come rushing back to her, descending upon her brain like the snowflakes falling barely 10 inches away and separated by only a sheet of glass.
Playing in the cold weather, scooping up balls of snow and hurtling them at her sister, and screaming when she’d gotten hit by the flying balls. Shivering and laughing, the both of them, when their gloves become so soaked that their hands begin to freeze. Calling a temporary truce when they could take it no longer, seeking warmth in the comforts of home.
She fondly remembers the way they’d run back indoors to a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows their mom had prepared while they’d been prancing about. Being fussed and engulfed in the same blanket now draped over Yuqi’s shoulders. She smiles, thinking about the way she used to be scolded for allowing her sister to get so cold. How she’d frown and lament being the firstborn child, having to take responsibility for all of her sister’s faults just because she’d had the bad luck of being born later. All the petty fights they’d had back then when they were young and immature, about petty issues she can’t even begin to recall now. What used to be painful moments of falling out for her younger self are now fond memories for her to reminisce about.
Yuqi’s jolted back to the present as a piece of coal shifts in the fireplace, falling to the ground with a low thud. Sucking in a breath, she glances around her to regain her surroundings. She takes in the slightly amber-tinted silhouettes of the foreign objects lying around the room, the couch, the table and the carpet printed with patterns barely visible in the dim light of the fireplace.
Home.
At least that’s what it felt like to her.
At this hour, it’s quiet, almost unnaturally so. Someone else would probably think that the silence was unnerving, scary to exist within.
Yuqi, on the other hand, rather enjoys the tranquility. It isn’t as if the house is particularly noisy in the mornings anyway, but there’s just a quality of early morning silences that calms her, quiets her agitated soul. That absence of presence creates a moment of suspension, in which she can merely… exist with her thoughts. No responsibilities, no requirements. In that moment, her time is hers, and hers alone to bask and savour in. A rarity in this day and age, and one that she cherishes dearly.
She’s always secretly been kind of an introvert, after all.
Sighing, she turns her head back toward the window and goes back to observing the snowflakes’ dance in the air. The lack of wind facilitating their movement makes the white particles seem almost… suspended in the air. Drifting slowly downward, they form the illusion that time has ground to a halt, leaving them hanging there mid-journey, almost as if they are never to reach their destination of the snow-covered ground.
Yuqi supposes that, in a way, the whole thing mirrors her own love for peace and quiet away from people. Without the agitating force of the wind, the snowflakes remain in almost-suspension, falling only as quickly as the rules of gravity allow them to. As for Yuqi, without the overbearing presence of people around her, she can proceed at her own pace, allowing time to tick on as it normally would, without the speediness that deadlines bring or the painstakingly slow drag when having to entertain someone else.
It was… kind of weird to be relating to a bunch of inanimate objects, but she supposed it made sense.
After all, Mother Nature does repeat herself time and again in her creations.
That was the beauty of it all, the very essence of the force known as nature that kept Yuqi hooked.
From elsewhere in the house, the faint sound of an alarm going off startled Yuqi yet again out of her deep reverie. Glancing at the clock, she realised that it was already 6 in the morning, and that 2 hours had already passed since she had first taken refuge in the comforting silence of pre-dawn.
Yuqi smiled, keeping her head turned towards the window and watching the snowflakes fall. In the silence of the room, the shuffling of feet and the soft clicking of a door could be heard clearly, along with a stifled yawn.
Warm arms wrapped around Yuqi from behind, encompassing her in their familiar embrace. A head came to rest on her shoulder, blond hair falling around her face and tickling the side of her neck.
“Yuqi… what are you doing up so early?” The soft, raspy voice of her girlfriend half-whispers into her ear, sending tingles down her spine. She smiles at the way the sleepy girl leaned her weight onto her, as if she was unable to keep herself upright of her own will.
“I was enjoying the silence,” she replies, gently pressing her own weight back into the girl behind her. Soyeon stumbles slightly from the added weight, likely still dazed from sleep, and Yuqi hastily grabs her shoulders to keep her from falling to the floor.
Turning around, she guides Soyeon up onto the window seat with her, gently shifting her to the inner edge of the seat to keep her from falling from it. The seat isn’t very high up, but a fall like that could still result in injury, something Yuqi can’t risk happening to the precious soul next to her. Soyeon’s eyelids flutter slightly in question, before accepting it and snuggling closer up to Yuqi.
As she looks down at her sleeping girlfriend, Yuqi’s heart swells. In the amber light of the fire, Soyeon’s face looks innocent, ten years younger. Her eyelashes rest against her cheeks, her ebony black irises shielded from the world, charging up energy to reflect their usual determination and fiery vigour.
Soyeon looks every bit like the girl she fell in love with, unfiltered and vulnerable in sleep, and Yuqi feels her heart pound hard at the thought that the normally introverted and protective girl would allow her, and her alone, to see her in such a state of vulnerability.
As she strokes Soyeon’s hair, she counts her blessings. Wonders how she got so lucky to have such an amazing, fiercely independent girl as her girlfriend.
A force of nature, she was. She was barely a month Yuqi’s senior, and still managed to outperform her in almost every way. She was all the things Yuqi couldn’t be, determined, confident, innovative, a good leader… the list stretched on. She refused to take nonsense from anyone, but took constructive criticism with such a lack of offence that Yuqi couldn’t help but wonder if she ever felt… hurt, by these remarks, little pieces of evidence of her failures.
That was before she got to know the girl better. Before they grew close enough for Soyeon to start confiding in her. Bare her deepest, darkest secrets to Yuqi, things that had barely seen the light of day before. Insecurities, worries, fears… everything. But instead of these deeply-kept secrets reducing Yuqi’s opinion of the girl, like she had probably thought it would, it only served to make her fall harder. For Soyeon, the girl so plagued with mortal emotions just like any other human being, but managing to overcome them all and get through them through her sheer force of will. Yuqi could respect that. Look up to it, even. After all, above all else, Jeon Soyeon was a human being, just like anybody else, and it only made her hopeless crush seem less hopeless and more attainable.
A year later, and Yuqi’s still so, so glad she made the first move instead of hesitating any longer. She remembers the day she’d confessed. It was dark, and they were out sitting on the grass in some field somewhere. Soyeon had had her jacket wrapped tightly around her, Yuqi recalls, because she hates bugs and didn’t want to risk having her skin come into contact with them. She’d offered the other girl her own jacket, anything to smooth out the other girl’s knitted eyebrows, and Soyeon had rewarded her with a smile.
The most dazzling, quiet smile.
Yuqi almost hadn’t been able to stop herself from kissing her right then and there.
Instead, she remembers, she had told Soyeon about how she made her feel. Even though her mind had strongly protested against it, and her heart raced at a million miles per minute, she had ignored them all and went for it bravely.
The best decision of her life.
She still remembers how prettily Soyeon had blushed. Her pink cheeks glowing faintly in the dim light of the moon, and her then long, black hair falling over her face, keeping it partially obscured. Her onyx eyes, glistening faintly with leftover tears from their talk earlier.
She’d looked like a vision.
And she remembers, in even more vivid detail, how Soyeon had whispered her reciprocation of her feelings. How she had to bend forward to catch what the other girl was saying over her shyness that prevented her from going any louder. How widely she had smiled, and how powerless she was to do anything else than that.
“Can I kiss you?” She had murmured then, captivated by the spell in her onyx eyes.
“Yes.” Soyeon had replied, her voice but a whisper.
She doesn’t remember who leaned forward first, but she does know that the first, tender brush of Soyeon’s lips against her own was almost too much for Yuqi to bear.
But then they had continued, pressing against each other cautiously, almost too cautiously, as if testing the boundaries of what the other could take. Or, in Yuqi’s case at least, what she herself could take. She’d never kissed anyone before that point in time, and didn’t know exactly how to do it properly, but it didn’t seem to matter. Her body had taken over, moving on instinct programmed so deeply into it by its creator.
And when they broke apart, gasping for air, Soyeon had smiled widely, her lips curling up into the signature smile Yuqi’s grown to know and love.
She’s brought back to the present when she feels a tug on her sweater. Looking down, she sees Soyeon blinking sleepily up at her, and Yuqi’s heart flutters like it’s her first time meeting her again.
“Stop thinking so loud,” the girl beside her murmurs. “It’s distracting.”
Yuqi smiles widely. Unable to resist the urge, she lies down next to Soyeon, cuddling her warm figure in her arms. Beside her, Soyeon makes a muffled noise and shifts her head into Yuqi’s chest. Yuqi’s heartbeat is erratic, and she tries to slow it down, knowing the other girl can probably feel the way her heart is currently trying to escape from her ribcage, but her traitorous heart refuses to listen, instead continuing to pound harder as if in an act of defiance.
Soyeon chuckles softly into her chest, and Yuqi blushes. Of course she’d noticed. After all, even at the brink of slumber, Soyeon was still one of the most observant people she knew.
“Go to sleep, you big oaf,” Soyeon mumbles into her chest. Yuqi feels the corners of her lips turn up into a smile and obeys, closing her eyes.
The crackling of the fireplace lulls her into drowsiness, and the warmth of Soyeon’s body radiates through her sweater, her body fitting into Yuqi’s arms perfectly.
As she slowly drifts off, Yuqi has only one thought left in her head.
It’s perfect.