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it was supposed to be a special day.
of course, it is. you've all waited for it. the four of you. especially you.
you've been with each other for a few years now, having to train four years before this very moment.
you were nervous—terrified. but your heart was beating fast and it's not solely for that reason.
she placed her hand on your shoulder like you've practiced a thousand times before, somehow you know it shouldn't feel this way anymore.
but you're nervous—terrified— because it's her.
————————————
she's always looking at you.
looking at you with those eyes you can't fathom what secrets hold, what emotions are trying to convey, what sins they want to commit.
you always catch her staring at you and you feel nervous—terrified, because why does it make your heart prance uncontrollably in your chest that you're left wondering...
does she feel it too?
you think, yes.
because at two am on the night of your eighteenth birthday she's knocking on your room and you wonder why she's still wide awake.
i just wanted to see you—she whispers, and you nod letting her in.
she's always looking at you.
looking at you with those eyes begging for you to notice, begging for you to acknowledge, urging you to make a move.
can i sit closer to you—she asks. you nod, letting her do.
you've been training with her for years now and yet...
you look at her lips and you briefly wonder how can someone pull you down like that white rabbit from wonderland.
—
the first time was bearable.
you were friends. it was easy.
you think she was pretty. you think she is pretty.
she tells you that you are—almost every chance she gets.
she tells you how beautiful you are, the shape of your eyes, the prominent structure of your nose. she takes a bit of time staring at your lips, trying to find words to describe how perfect she thinks they are. she takes much more time staring at the mole beside your lips which you used to hate.
you don't tell her she's the reason it's your favorite now.
she's your favorite now.
she slips into your life like stubborn dust sticking on the farthest corner, unwilling to budge, unwilling to move away.
you were friends. it was easy.
but you realized friends shouldn't be this confusing.
you're friends with aeri too, but you don't get the fireworks in your chest whenever she pulls you in for a hug.
you're friends with yi zhuo too, but you don't get excited when you walk with her late at night in the park.
you don't spend hours thinking what would it feel like to kiss them on the neck.
you don't spend hours pining over them.
but you do spend hours wondering why you're getting so many butterflies in your stomach when she's around.
friends shouldn't be this confusing.
can i kiss you—she asks.
again, you get those damn butterflies.
you let her lips hover on top of yours. just close enough to keep you wanting. just close enough to get your head in. just close enough you can inhale her breathing. you let her lips touch yours and there's not a single word formulated that can describe what you're feeling.
it's almost like you're floating. almost as if she's pulling you up, up, up.
it was like you were born to feel the ecstasy you're willingly taking from her mouth.
friends shouldn't be this confusing.
—
she knocks on your door at two am on a random sunday night.
two weeks after you found out that her lips are made by celestial beings driving you to madness.
you didn't tell her you were craving for it, but you were. you are.
you think minjeong is a drug—and you briefly wonder how soon people are going to find out you're addicted to her.
can i sleep here—she tells you. you don't understand because it sounded like a statement, those sentences wherein you know it's final and your answer wouldn't matter anyway, yet it's constructed like she's asking for your permission.
she isn't.
she slips into your twin-sized bed and you shake your head because fuck—she looks good in your bed.
she kissed you again that night, once.
twice.
probably four hundred times.
and you feel your body heating up in weird places, your cheeks tinting up to your ear tips, your lips burning up like it's burnt in the best possible way.
she kissed you again and you have literally forgotten—
friends shouldn't be this confusing.
—
the four of you decided to give a random saturday night party a twist.
you play hide and seek in your dorm room in your pjs, laughing because somehow you all feel like kids again.
you still are, if they were to ask you.
minjeong closed her eyes in the corner and counts from ten backward, and you hear the squeals coming from the other girls.
you almost stubbed your toe against the bathroom door, eager to hide.
four— you hear her say. you close the door.
three— you hear her say. the lock won't work, you let it be.
two— you hear her say. the lights turn off, jokes on you.
one—you hear her say. the game has begun.
you hear nothing as she quietly moves around the dorm, before aeri's shrieks were heard two rooms away.
you hear them laughing loudly and you stand quietly in the dark.
you hear nothing as she quietly moves around the dorm.
the next thing you know, the door flies open and she's coming in to find you.
you stand quietly in the dark with your heart hammering on your chest, and it's not solely for that reason of losing a game.
you see her squint in the dark as she closed the door behind her.
don't make a noise—she tells you.
she pulls you in for a passionate kiss and you were so fucking nervous—terrified
it's not in your room, it's not two am, it's not in your bed.
she's kissing you as if not one of your friends is lazily waiting for you on the couch, whilst the other one is hiding in a closet somewhere.
she's kissing you as if you're not supposed to show up together with her outside, with your lips probably swollen and your light lipstick a little bit smudged.
she's kissing you as if she hasn't kissed you for so long when she just did the other night.
friends shouldn't be this confusing.
she smiles before she pulls away and puts her finger on your lips, mouthing a shhh.
she leaves you standing quietly in the dark with your heart hammering on your chest, and it's not solely for that reason of losing a game.
—
i want to feel your lips—she says.
she tells you she just needed to make sure you're real.
you laughed and tell her —of course i am, you thought, why wouldn't you be real?
because there's no way someone as ethereal as you could be as real—she whispers before you got lost into another session of make-believe.
-
she comes frantically knocking at your door, not at two am.
you're pretty sure it's just nine in the evening, and the video of you dancing with kai was just released.
another set of lips smashed with yours as soon as she closed the door, as if minjeong's sole purpose is to wreck your mouth and taste you inside out.
you never told me you danced that close—she breathed, but you never get to answer when she's hungrily pushing back with your body slamming at the door. she's gripping your waist harshly, as if owning you, as if she's keeping you from breaking out and running away.
she worked her mouth against yours and you felt her tongue, warm and wet and soft, and did you just—
i love to hear you moan—she smirks, pulling you, pulling you, pulling you.
you ended up tossed in your bed like a paper doll, before you feel her weight crash on top of you, her mouth crashing against yours, tearing your breath from your lungs that you felt dizzy.
moan—she tells you, no. she commands you, and you knew you were at her mercy.
she left your room without touching you and you thought—
friends shouldn't be this confusing.
—
yi zhuo makes a comment about how chenle is asking her for your phone number.
it's not for him, she tells you. it's for jeno.
you look at minjeong only to see her emotionless and quietly eating her food, whilst yi zhuo calls your attention because it's what people do when you haven't answered them in fifteen seconds.
you shrugged and tell her it's okay—it's not really a big deal.
you look at minjeong again and she's drinking her glass empty as if she's been a week thirsty.
yi zhuo squeals and makes a joke of how you look good together, and you remind her you're not allowed to date yet.
minjeong clears her throat and you look in her direction to see her finishing her meal, still looking uninterested.
she doesn't knock at your door later that night.
or the next.
or the next.
or the next.
she doesn't knock on your door at two am, doesn't want to play hide and seek during saturdays, doesn't let you be alone with her in any room.
she doesn't wait for you during practice, doesn't let you sit beside her, doesn't let you even touch her.
it stings.
because friends shouldn't be this confusing.
it gets tiring.
what's your problem?—you ask her, quite bravely in front of the other girls, because there's no other way she's going to talk to you alone.
she looks at you with wide eyes, as if asking you what the hell are you doing, and you stand your ground firmly because you just can't fucking take it.
you miss her.
you miss her.
you miss her.
i don't know what you're talking about—she says, and your nose flares in anger because really?
aeri drags yi zhuo outside and left you alone to talk, and you thanked them internally because finally, you'll get to talk this out with minjeong.
minjeongie, what's wrong?—you try again, she doesn't even look you in the eyes.
nothing is wrong. can i go to my room now? i'm tired—she tells you, turning her back.
no please. tell me what's going on—you begged. and you saw a glimpse of hesitation in her face, enough to let you know that she cares about this too.
whatever it is that you do.
i told you, nothing's going on—she snaps at you and you were shocked, because this is minjeong.
this is your minjeong. and she doesn't snap at you.
let me rest, okay?—she tells you again, with finality, but you're not the one to let this chance go.
what is your problem? you come barging into my room, kissing the hell out of me, and the next thing you're ignoring me like i don't exist?—you quip back, because this is just so unfair.
why are you acting like this? gosh, jimin-unnie. that's nothing, grow the fuck up—
it took you all your willpower not to slap her across her pretty cheeks.
are you fucking kidding me, minjeong?—
no, jimin-unnie. are you fucking kidding me? don't try and act brave now when we both know whatever the hell it is we're doing is just not going to work. you're better off fucking that stupid jeno and get over—
her cheeks are really pretty, and you're right away sorry for tainting it red.
i'm so sorry, min— oh my god, i didn't mean to—
she leaves you standing in the middle of the living room, frozen.
—
you go against your company's policy and went out secretly with jeno.
he was nice. he loves chocolate drinks and glazed donuts. he likes the smell of mint. his favorite season is autumn.
you stopped.
minjeong is called winter but she likes autumn as well.
jeno said he loves cars and cameras and ping-pong and you smiled at him like you're really retaining all those information in your head.
you aren't.
even though, the date still went fine.
she drops you off outside your dorm room at nine in the evening, internally thanking how you haven't made your debut yet enough to be known outside.
he leans to kiss you and you let him.
he nearly missed, his lips were a bit on the right side of your mouth and his nose keeps on bumping with yours, but his eyes were closed, savoring the moment. he was breathing right into your nose whenever he exhales and he tastes like the raspberry juice you drank for dinner.
you can't help but compare it with minjeong's kiss.
you know you fucked up.
but you knew you totally fucked up when someone opens the door from behind you and you pulled away from jeno like you were electrocuted, as if you're caught doing bad business—which you actually are.
minjeong looks at you like you betrayed her—which you did.
she closed the door again without saying anything and jeno smiles sheepishly at you.
will you be okay talking to her?—he asked. you nodded, but you know you were lying.
he kissed you one more time on the cheeks, to bid you goodnight, and you smiled at him in courtesy when all you wanted was for him to leave.
—
she knocks at your door two am that morning, lips crashing unto yours like it knows its way through you.
she's pushing you unto your bed, harshly.
you get it, she's angry.
she's pulling your hair, harshly.
you get it, she's angry.
you let her bite your lips that you tasted actual blood—you didn't care, you don't have any schedule for a few days anyway.
you let her nibble on your neck and leave marks all over it—you didn't care, it's nothing makeup can't hide.
all you care about is minjeong and her palms pressing on your stomach, her fingers pulling your hair, her hands around your neck, her hands rubbing your thighs and it's like minjeong's suddenly all over you so quick, you almost wondered how she's doing all that.
you're throbbing in all the right places and she's pulling your lips like she's trying to remove someone else's taste on it.
she probably is.
you let her grip your hips and unbuckle your belt, almost growling, almost as if she's attacking you.
she is.
you let her raise your shirt above your head, breathing heavily when she stares at you with heavy-lidded eyes, drinking at the sight of your bra-clad body with an unbuckled belt and pulled-down zippers.
you almost came at the sight.
she dove back into you and you feel her hesitating, wondering, tip-toeing on the possibility of taking you right there and then.
you hear her breathe deeply in your neck, as if trying to calm herself, as if trying to compose herself, before she stands back up to toss you your shirt.
i'm sorry—she murmurs, wiping her lips on the back of her hand and running her fingers on her hair.
she inhales sharply for the last time before turning back at you, leaving you half-naked, bothered, and humiliated.
—————————
it was supposed to be a special day.
of course, it is. you've all waited for it. the four of you. especially you.
you've been with each other for a few years now, having to train four years before this very moment.
you were nervous—terrified. but your heart was beating fast and it's not solely for that reason.
she placed her hand on your shoulder like you've practiced a thousand times before, somehow you know it shouldn't feel this way anymore.
but you're nervous—terrified— because it's her.
the adrenaline of finally debuting hasn't died down even though it's almost midnight.
the high of looking into minjeong's eyes haven't died down even though it's been months.
she doesn't talk to you anymore—well, not alone anyway. she acts civil and keeps you on your toes, smiles at you when needed, plays with you on camera and in front of the other girls, but stays evasive when it's just the two of you.
she stopped knocking at your door at any given time, as if the past few months never happened at all. as if it's a fragment of your memory drawn from a dream—blurry and was never real.
you try to joke with her in front of the girls as it's the only time you can actually do it, and she comes back to you with—
of course unnie, we're friends, right?
and at that moment all you think about is—
friends shouldn't be this confusing.
—fin—