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Yurina knows it all too well– whenever she finds herself back in Seoul, it ends up with her and Xiaoting coming back to one another, a magnetic pull that’s impossible to ignore. Fate doesn’t like to be cheated, and it seems like Xiaoting and Yurina have been cheating a lot. Since the day they met each other, really.
They’re on the walk home from Mashiro’s birthday dinner, and Yurina has to ignore the fact that Xiaoting’s got her arm draped over her like she needs help walking straight. But she certainly doesn’t, and it feels a lot like an excuse for Xiaoting to hug her the whole way home, her hold feeling strangely protective over Yurina’s shoulders. Maybe she’s trying to shield her from the bitterly cold winter wind, and maybe she’s holding Yurina tight just because she wants to. The second possibility makes Yurina’s heart hurt.
And when Xiaoting’s fingers land too hard on her keypad, punching in her passcode, Yurina thinks she’s doing it on purpose. Because she knows from experience– Xiaoting isn’t nearly drunk enough to be making these kinds of mistakes. But then again, that would mean Xiaoting isn’t drunk enough to need Yurina’s help to get home, and right now, they’re both playing at a dance they know all too well.
It’s a simple situation: Yurina’s helping Xiaoting get home, and maybe in the process she's finding her way home too.
The lock beeps with a green light, and they’re in.
Xiaoting kicks off her shoes at the door and leaves them there, like she always does. Yurina puts them up on the rack along with her own, like she did the last time she was at Xiaoting’s place.
Xiaoting makes a beeline for her bedroom, and Yurina has to persuade her to drink some water and at least put on her pajamas before falling face-first on the bed. Yurina flicks on the lamp on the bedside table, and she can see Xiaoting’s face– slightly pink, and she’s looking at Yurina like there’s something she wants to say. It seems like she thinks better of it as she gets up, rummaging through her closet for something to wear.
“Okay, let’s change,” Xiaoting says, turning around to show Yurina the shirt and pajama pants she’d selected. The only thing is, she said let’s, and she’s holding two sets of pajamas.
“For me?” Yurina asks, and when Xiaoting nods and reaches out to give them to her, she tries to turn her down. “I can’t stay, actually. I’m– I should be going now,” Yurina says lamely. “I’ll just get a cab.”
“I‘m not letting you,” Xiaoting mumbles, reaching over the bed to hand Yurina her clothes: flannel bottoms, and a black sweater from her ballroom dancing days with the name of some fancy British university printed on it. Yurina can’t help the small smile that comes when she looks between Xiaoting’s clothes in her hands and the woman herself standing across from her, who’s making eye contact with the floor and quite a bit redder than before.
“I heard on the news this morning that it’s supposed to snow,” Xiaoting says. There’s a long pause, and she doesn’t look up, playing with the sleeve of the long-sleeved shirt she’d picked out for herself. “And it’s cold, and I don’t want you to get sick because you had to wait outside.”
Yurina opens her mouth to protest, but Xiaoting beats her to it. “You shouldn’t have helped me home, anyways.” Her words are warm, directed inwards and not at Yurina, typical of her self-consciousness.
It’s like a chess move. Yurina can’t say it wasn’t a big deal, because that would mean she agrees with Xiaoting, that she shouldn’t have. And that would mean telling the truth, that she wanted to come home with Xiaoting. So all Yurina can do is nod, accepting the clothes and changing while Xiaoting takes the bathroom. When she finishes rolling up the sleeves of the sweater– they’re a bit too long because Xiaoting’s taller than she is– she hears a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Yurina says, and Xiaoting does. Her hair is down and she’s bare-faced, and it takes Yurina a moment when it hits her, that this is the same person she’s known since she was fourteen, when they’d both moved to Korea and were the only foreigners in their class. It takes her back to those days, when her and Xiaoting would communicate with nothing more than body language and the beginnings of puppy love. A dumb little crush, that Yurina now knows would still be just as real at twenty-five.
The smallness of the room, and especially the bed, is suddenly very apparent to Yurina. She takes the opportunity to bail.
“I’ll take the couch?”
“No,” Xiaoting huffs, sounding petulant. "I will." Yurina giggles at that. Xiaoting glares at her, about to insist again, but to her Xiaoting’s always been about as intimidating as a newborn deer stumbling over its own feet.
“This is your house and I’m the guest, don’t be silly,” Yurina says, moving towards the door. She has a hand on the doorknob as she takes in the sight of Shen Xiaoting, twenty-five, tipsy, and wearing a 2016 Planet Camp shirt from their junior year. The shirt reminds her of all the beds they shared during that summer, when it was as clear as day that Yurina liked Xiaoting and that Xiaoting liked her back. She's sure Xiaoting likes her back, even now.
But in the present day, that’s dangerous, so Yurina refuses to entertain the thought any more.
“Sorry, it’s a bit cold,” Xiaoting says. “I tried turning on the heat, but... it’s out again. I’ll get you another blanket.” And she does, one with a kitten-and-puppy pattern that she remembers Xiaoting won from a fair, at a dance competition in the countryside. It takes her right back– she’d covered Yurina with it at graduation rehearsal, when it was early morning and freezing cold, and now it’s back in her hands.
“You forget to pay the bill?” Yurina jokes, and Xiaoting slaps her on the arm.
“Fuck you,” Xiaoting says, through a poorly-contained smirk, her touch lingering for a moment too long on Yurina's arm. It’s these things that make Yurina want to give in right then and there, but she just can’t.
“Night, Ting,” Yurina says, and she closes the door behind her after Xiaoting’s gentle good night, Yurina.
She falls asleep on the couch underneath those two blankets and the pillow Xiaoting gave her, ignoring the fact that yes, Xiaoting’s bed is more than big enough for the two of them to share and why didn’t she just insist to share like they used to all the time, because she’s better than that and she’s more mature, or responsible, or something.
Yurina blinks awake to a dark living room instead of the morning light, and it throws her for a bit when she stares at the clock on the microwave reading 3:31 AM. She’d only been asleep for an hour or two, and it should be easy enough to close her eyes and fall back asleep.
But it isn’t. One, because she sees that the light in the bedroom is still on, which means Xiaoting is awake. And two, because it’s still a bit cold even as she holds the covers tightly to herself. Curse Xiaoting’s landlord, or Xiaoting for not paying the bills, or whatever. She tries to fall asleep for another ten minutes, before she shivers again and gives up.
She has two options: get up and ask Xiaoting for another blanket, or get up and ask Xiaoting if she can share the bed. Yurina sighs, grabbing the pillow and holding the blanket tightly over her shoulders as she pads over to Xiaoting’s room, opening the door as softly as she can.
“Hey,” Yurina says, the sight of Xiaoting on her phone greeting her. When they make eye contact they both freeze, because they’re thinking the same thing: can’t sleep?
“I- um, well, you were right, it’s cold out there,” Yurina fumbles, and Xiaoting nods, putting her phone down.
“Oh, come here.” Xiaoting pats the space next to her, already making room, and Yurina forgets about asking her for another blanket when this is what she’s wanted all along, anyways. Something within her tells her she shouldn’t be doing this– giving into that temptation, that friends just sleep in other beds, that she should just not. But Yurina can’t bring herself to care anymore when she climbs into bed, settling in as Xiaoting turns off the light.
For a moment she thinks Xiaoting’s gonna face the other way, but then there’s warmth against her back as Xiaoting hugs her softly, hand caressing her hip.
Yurina swears she’s gonna melt. “Xiaoting, you are so bold,” she whines, but Xiaoting’s silent and still, except for the motion of her hand, her thumb gently brushing over Yurina’s hip.
“I... I missed you,” Xiaoting finally murmurs, and she doesn’t sound like she’s joking. “You should come to Seoul more often.” Yurina wonders if she’s saying it because of the wine, or if she’s more sober now.
“I really should,” Yurina whispers, finding Xiaoting’s hand under the covers and interlacing their fingers. Xiaoting’s silent for another moment, and Yurina feels her awkwardly attempting to bury her face into the crook of her neck, and it’s something that makes her heart race because she can’t ignore it any longer.
Xiaoting was her first kiss at sixteen, and if they get any closer in this moment, Yurina won’t be able to stop herself from going for a second. And she’ll make it a successful second kiss with her, not like all the near misses they had in the past.
“Ting,” Yurina gulps, and Xiaoting stops immediately, unclasping her hand from Yurina’s and rolling over, putting some space between them.
“I’m sorry,” Xiaoting says, sounding a bit panicked, and Yurina shuts her eyes in irritation because that’s not what she meant at all. In fact, what she really wants is to tackle Xiaoting and press her mouth to hers, but she doesn’t know what to do with all these feelings when they’ve got so much history.
“No, I mean– you can hug me, but that’s all. Please. I want you to,” she says, and she’s grateful for the darkness because the tips of her ears are hot.
“Okay. Sorry.” Xiaoting’s careful when she holds her again, trying to keep some space between them but failing miserably, and Yurina doesn’t mind at all.
Yurina’s pretty warm now, and she’s starting to feel sleepy. The sweater she’s wearing smells like Xiaoting, and she makes a mental note to steal it when she leaves in the morning. She drifts in and out of that delicate state between sleep and wakefulness for a minute, and she feels like she should say something to Xiaoting, maybe tell her good night again.
But Xiaoting’s breathing is deep and even, and she’s fast asleep with her arm around Yurina’s waist. The three words are out of Yurina’s mouth before she knows it.
“I love you, Xiaoting.”