Archive of Our Own ^beta

“It’s been two years, three months, nine days, and three hours since we met Yoo Jimin.”

Minjeong tears her gaze away from where she definitely had not been staring at the girl in question, and shoots Yizhuo a scathing look across the booth.

“It’s so lame that you know that.”

Yizhuo looks as though she’s trying very hard to not roll her eyes, and her fingers idly toy with a beermat as she speaks, “Humour me.”

Minjeong sighs with barely restrained exasperation and only glances at Jimin once more before gesturing for Yizhuo to continue.

“So, tell me,” Yizhuo’s lips pull into a smirk, and Minjeong immediately regrets every decision she’s ever made which have somehow led to her being Yizhuo’s best friend, “how long is it since you’ve been in love with Ms. Jimin?”

Minjeong digs her nails into her palms under the table, trying to remain impassive, “Excuse me?”

She quickly looks in Jimin’s direction once more, just to make sure the girl didn’t hear Yizhuo, but thankfully Jimin is still too distracted ordering drinks from the bartender.

When Minjeong meets Yizhuo’s eyes once more, she realises that her fleeting look towards Jimin wasn’t brief enough, and it’s told her best friend all she needed to know.

Still, Minjeong tries her best to not let Yizhuo snatch a sense of victory so easily, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yizhuo actually does roll her eyes this time and drops the beermat in favour of folding her arms over her chest, “You forget I’ve known you pretty much my whole life, so be honest,” Yizhuo tilts her chin upwards, “how long?”

Minjeong considers lying, considers desperately clinging on to that time when her crush on their mutual friend wasn’t public knowledge, but this is Yizhuo and she will find out the truth even if it involves life-threatening torture methods.

So she tells the truth.

Minjeong exhales gently, feeling more than a little uncomfortable because talking about feelings really isn’t her thing, before reluctantly and tentatively admitting, “Um, about … t-two years, three months, nine days, two hours and ... I don’t know, seven minutes?”

Yizhuo hums, nodding her head in affirmation with the slightest edge of sympathy, “Yes, I’d thought as much.”

Minjeong groans, and covers her reddening cheeks with her hands, “Is it really obvious?”

Yizhuo shrugs flippantly, “Yes.”

“Does everybody know?”

“Yes.”

Minjeong speaks quickly with panic, “Do you think she knows?”

“ Of course not ,” Yizhuo assures her and Minjeong’s racing heart rate calms only a little, “that girl is so oblivious, she wouldn’t figure it out unless you actually screamed ‘I LOVE YOU’ directly in her face, and even then she’d probably coo and say that she ‘loves you as a sister too’.”

“I’m totally screwed aren’t I?”

Yizhuo nods once more, “I’d say so,” she glances back over her shoulder and towards the bar, before quickly turning back to Minjeong, “hey, you might wanna go over there, your girlfriend’s attracting some unwanted attention.”

Minjeong looks over and Jimin has indeed found herself accompanied by some vaguely sleazy looking gentleman.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Minjeong pretends to be cool about it, “She can handle herself,” she says, but in reality it’s only five seconds before she’s out of her seat and making her way over to the bar.

“And so that’s basically how I almost got to play in the World Cup.”

Minjeong grimaces already; this dude is totally and completely nowhere near Jimin’s league in the slightest, and yet the ever kind Jimin gazes up in wonder, probably obliviously believing his ridiculous lie.

But Minjeong knows Jimin better than anybody, and can tell just from the girl’s body language that she wants this dude far away from her but is too polite to say it outright.

Minjeong swallows her nerves quickly, because what she’s about to do is purely to save her friend, and has nothing to do with indulging in her two year long unrequited pining.

“Hey, babe,” she slides her arm around Jimin’s waist the second she’s within reach, and shoots Jimin a look as if to say ‘ I’m saving your ass, so play along’ , “what’s taking so long?”

From where she’d previously been tense, unsure of quite what is happening, Jimin relaxes into her embrace and leans in to press a kiss to Minjeong’s cheek, “Nothing, just sharing the odd anecdote with Soomin here.”

The lanky guy frowns, “My name is Soo bin .”

Jimin furrows her brow with total innocence, “Isn’t that what I said?”

“Whatever,” He huffs, turning his attention to Minjeong, “and who are you supposed to be?”

Minjeong squares her shoulders, glaring the boy down with the kind of look which has been known to previously make grown men tremble, “ Her girlfriend.”

At this time, Minjeong would like to kindly request that her overactive heartbeat chill for a minute, because whilst, yes, she’s in love with Jimin, now is really not the time to be thinking about that.

Unfortunately, Soobin scoffs, “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been on the internet long enough to know this is just some shit girls pull when they’re trying to get rid of a guy,” he folds his arms over his chest victoriously, “I’m not buying it.”

Minjeong’s unsure of why this guy is hanging around still when he clearly knows he’s not wanted, and so she shoots him a look as if to say ‘oh really?’ and turns to meet Jimin’s gaze.

Every inch of her body is screaming out to her, telling Minjeong that this is a really bad idea, and that if she does what she’s about to, then there’s no coming back, not for her at least.

Except there’s a glimmer of recognition in Jimin’s eyes, a silent understanding of Minjeong’s plan, telling her to do it.

And so Minjeong does.

She presses forwards and kisses her best friend.

She hears Soobin letting out some kind of squawk, but doesn’t let it deter her.

Minjeong had only meant to kiss Jimin chastely, just a peck to prove the asshole wrong, (even though he was annoyingly right), except Jimin kisses her back and, for a moment, Minjeong forgets herself.

She’s almost angry for a second, because how dare Jimin be so good at everything, but it’s quickly replaced by that familiar yet new coiling in her stomach, reminding Minjeong that she’s really enjoying this.

Jimin kisses her softly, delicately, brushing their lips together smoothly only until they hear Soobin huffing and stomping away petulantly, and Jimin pulls away.

Jimin is smiling gratefully, totally unfazed by what has just happened, whereas Minjeong feels like a mess.

She’s pretty sure she’s shaking, emotionally if not literally, and it takes all the strength she has to stay standing because her knees are weak and her legs are trembling, and she just kissed the girl she’s been in love with for two years, three months, and however many days.

“Thanks for that, I didn’t know how to get rid of him,” Jimin says, turning to collect their warming drinks from the surface of the counter; whilst Minjeong still stands there, trying her best to act like she’s not falling apart, Jimin shoots her a smirk, “you’re a good kisser though.”

Minjeong almost collapses right then and there.

Minjeong’s so deep in thought that she barely notices the mattress dipping and the covers being lifted, before falling back down over another body – but she catches a hint of citrus and knows without even blinking that it’s Jimin, there’s not a single part of her which could ever not notice Jimin.

She almost considers pretending to be asleep, but Jimin’s not stupid, and can probably recognise Minjeong’s (increasingly) uneven breathing, and Jimin’s slept beside her so many times she’s probably aware that Minjeong’s rigidly straight posture is not how she’s normally positioned mid-slumber.

And so, when slender fingers reach out to her arm and gently trail down to intertwine their hands, and a soft voice whispers, “Minjeong,” she forgets all pretenses of ignoring Jimin, and turns her head to meet the older girl’s gaze.

She likes Jimin the most like this – makeup-less, pajama-clad, quiet, in her bed, and with no distractions.

“I need some advice.”

Minjeong furrows her brow slightly. This is new.

“Is there a problem?” Minjeong asks gently, tentatively, rolling onto her side to view Jimin better.

Jimin nods slightly, but Minjeong sees it through the dark nonetheless.

Minjeong hesitates, feeling her heart constricting ever so slightly before she gathers the ability to ask, “Is it … a girl problem?”

There’s a pause, and a hint of vulnerability, before Jimin nods.

Minjeong swallows thickly, quite unsure of what to ask next because, well, they never really talk about this kind of thing. They talk about everything under the sun, everything under the night’s sky, but not about this. Not about dating, or crushes, or relationships.

Minjeong’s not even sure why. On her side Minjeong understands, sure, she doesn’t want to talk about her crush to her crush, and she certainly doesn’t want to hear about Jimin’s crushes. On the other hand however, she’s never been certain of why Jimin doesn’t come to her with these sorts of things. Minjeong had thought for a while that Jimin simply didn’t like anybody, (Minjeong’s read up on aromanticism, just to be sure), but then an off-handed comment from Lia revealed that Jimin does talk about this kind of thing – just not to Minjeong.

Maybe Jimin thinks Minjeong’s not interested, and truthfully it is difficult to appear interested when the mere thought of Jimin gushing about some girl (or guy, or whatever – Lia had mentioned girls, but Minjeong can’t know for sure) who isn’t Minjeong is just a little too soul-crushing.

However, this is all forgotten now. The imaginary rule book of the do’s and don’ts has gone out of the window; the standard structure of their friendship has changed with one nod of the head.

Jimin’s come to her for girl advice.

“Well … What is it then?”

Why does Jimin look as nervous and awkward as Minjeong feels right now?

Why has Jimin come to her now for romantic advice, when before they’d never uttered a single word on the matter to each other?

Minjeong tries her best not to think about the kiss in the bar, but honestly, it’s all she’s been thinking about, and so it’s only natural that her hopeless mind wonders.

Maybe Jimin’s avoided relationship talk for the same reasons Minjeong did. Maybe Jimin’s been thinking about that kiss as much as Minjeong has. Maybe Jimin has the confidence to actually confess.

“There’s … someone.”

Minjeong huffs a laugh, because Jimin isn’t making this easy. She rubs her thumb in circles across the back of Jimin’s hand, encouraging the girl to talk freely.

“Yeah, I’d figured that much,” Minjeong laughs, and then sighs a little, because Jimin still looks nervous, and they’ve been friends for too long for Jimin to be nervous to talk to her, “so you like them?”

Jimin nods, the movement shifting her head onto Minjeong’s pillow. Minjeong tries to hide how her breath hitches at the proximity. They’ve been this close, even closer, before, but she still reacts the same.

Minjeong allows herself to smirk a little, “Do I know them?”

She can tell even in the minimal light that Jimin’s blushing, and not meeting her eyes. Minjeong honestly tries so very hard to not read into it, but they kissed not five hours ago, and now suddenly Jimin’s blushing and talking about crushes, and how could Minjeong not suspect …

“Yeah,” Jimin’s soft voice replies, her breath skating across Minjeong’s cheek, “I’ve known them a little while now, two years or so.”

Don’t read into it, don’t read into it, don’t –

“What are they like?”

An involuntary smile spreads across Jimin’s lips and, this time, when she speaks, her eyes don’t leave Minjeong’s, “Beautiful. The most stunning smile. The kindest eyes, and the warmest heart,” Jimin blinks and Minjeong swears her heart is thundering so hard right now it’s going to shatter her ribcage, “a body to die for, and a sense of humor so lame, I laugh at every little thing they say.”

Not that Minjeong’s narcissistic or anything, but she’s fairly certain that the description is so painfully familiar that she swears Jimin can’t be being subtle here.

“Really?” Jimin nods, and Minjeong noses her head closer, only by millimeters, “and, what? You think they don’t like you?”

Jimin sighs and Minjeong’s eyes are drawn to her lips. She remembers what it’s like to kiss them as though it had only happened seconds ago.

“I don’t know,” Jimin confesses, and when Minjeong glances upwards, Jimin doesn’t meet her gaze, choosing to frown down at the small space between them instead, “sometimes I think they do, like they do things and I think they must , but … I’m scared,” their eyes meet, and Minjeong holds Jimin’s hand tighter at the fear reflected in her best friend’s eyes, “we’re friends, what if I mess it up?”

“You won’t,” Minjeong insists gently, licking her suddenly dry lips, because she’s spent two years, three months, and almost ten days in love with Jimin, and it’s taken her just as long to say the words out loud, or close enough, at least, “they like you too, trust me. Maybe they’re just hoping you’d be braver, and make the first move.”

“What do I do now?” Jimin asks, and Minjeong swears Jimin’s getting closer by the second, by the centimeter.

“Be honest,” Minjeong tells her, now firmly unable to tear her gaze away from studying the slope of Jimin’s lips, even though it’s dark and she’s probably spent nearly sixty hours staring at Jimin’s lips alone, “isn’t it time?”

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees in a whisper, “you’re right.”

Minjeong’s so convinced, so sure that two years, three months, and almost ten days has paid off, that she edges closer, about to close the inch gap between them, when Jimin speaks again,

“Should I ask Lia to help me out then?”

Minjeong frowns, since when did Lia come into this conversation? “Huh?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow as Minjeong meets her eye, “Well she is Lia’s vocal partner, so maybe she can help.”

Minjeong’s heart drops and – actually, Jimin might as well have punched through her chest and ripped Minjeong’s heart out with her bare hands for the way the girl’s words totally and completely knocked her sideways.

“ Yeji ?” Minjeong manages to blurt out, “Yeji’s the one you like?”

Jimin backs up a little, frowning, “Well … yeah? What other person would I like?”

“M-” Minjeong stops herself, because Jimin’s looking at her innocently and completely obliviously, and, (God, how stupid could she have been to actually think that Jimin liked her?!), she quickly flusters to come up with an answer, any answer that isn’t ‘me’, “M-Mina … A-Aren’t you guys close?”

Jimin lets out a laugh, a loud one, as though Minjeong had told a cracking joke, “Kim Mina? God, no , I couldn’t have a crush on her,” and then she utters the words that crush Minjeong a million times over, “that’d be like having a crush on you!”

Minjeong forces a smile because what else can she do? She doesn’t have the strength to turn it into a laugh to match Jimin’s chuckle, she doesn’t have the strength to do much else really, when Jimin drops her hand and moves upwards to drop a kiss to the top of Minjeong’s head.

“Thanks, Minjeong,” Jimin pulls back with a megawatt smile and Minjeong’s heart bends and breaks a hundred times, “I’ll tell Yeji tomorrow.”

Minjeong lets Jimin move her, lets Jimin’s small but strong hand push at her shoulder to roll her onto her back, and lets Jimin rest her head on her chest. It’s painfully obvious, and has been for over two years, that she’d let Jimin do just about anything.

She even lets Jimin break her heart.

And, as much as it tortures her, Minjeong knows she’d let Jimin break her heart every day for the rest of her life, if it just meant she’d see that smile, and if that smile would, occasionally, be reserved just for her.

Minjeong waits all day for Jimin to come home, not that she’d ever consider this a waste of time. Waiting for Jimin is never a waste of time.

Yizhuo stops by during her lunch break, suspicion marrying her features as Minjeong nearly leaps out of her skin when she opens the door only to slump back on the couch in disappointment when it’s not Jimin who walks in.

Her best friend makes a cup of coffee whilst Minjeong stares idly up at the ceiling. She can feel Yizhuo’s eyes on her, and it’s not long before the girl speaks up.

“What’s up with you?” Yizhuo asks without delicacy as she scoops up her mug and moves to stand at the end of the couch, bearing down over Minjeong, “I know Jimin slept in your room last night, so why the long face?”

Minjeong sighs, toying absently with a loose thread on the hem of her sleeve, “Jimin confessed to me last night.”

Yizhuo chokes on her coffee and splutters, thumping her chest quickly, “She what ?”

“Yeah,” Minjeong grits her teeth and yanks out the thread completely, “she confessed that she likes Lia’s vocal partner.”

Without looking she can see Yizhuo’s mouth flapping open and closed, looking for the right words to say, “Minjeong, I –”

“Save it,” Minjeong flicks the thread away, not caring that her sleeve will most likely become completely unravelled by the end of the evening, “I know what you’re going to say; that I was too slow, and that I shouldn’t have waited two freaking years, or that I shouldn’t have fallen for her at all – but it’s a little too late for that, Yizhuo.”

Yizhuo, seemingly disinterested in her coffee now that she’s spat in it, places it aside on the table, and perches on the end of the couch, lifting Minjeong’s legs and replacing them on her lap, “I wasn’t gonna say that,” Yizhuo sighs, attempting to be caring and empathetic, two things which don’t come easily to Ning Yizhuo, “and hey, hope is not lost. For all we know, Yeji doesn’t like Jimin.”

Minjeong finally looks at Yizhuo, shooting her a scathing look, “Oh, come on. Everyone likes Jimin. You’d like her too if it weren’t for me.”

Yizhuo tilts her head in a show of agreement, because Minjeong’s statement is fair.

Minjeong feels bad when she prays to God for Hwang Yeji to be a complete and utterly blind idiot, for her to not like Jimin back.

It’s foolish, Minjeong considers. It’s apparent God hasn’t been listening to her for some time now, or even if he has, he doesn’t care – because Minjeong is still in love with Jimin, and Jimin is falling for someone else.

Yeji likes Jimin too. Of course .

It’s agony, sure, but it’s unsurprising to everyone except Jimin, who bounces around the house as though she’s hit the jackpot.

Minjeong cooks her dinner, supplying Jimin with endless cups of her favourite tea while they wait for the oven to do its job to the chicken, and she lets Jimin gush about Yeji, taking in every word, smiling at every anecdote, downing glasses of water to ease the familiar tightness in her throat that comes from trying to hold back tears.

She finds blood under a few fingernails, and realises she’s been clenching her fists so tightly she’s embedded red crescents on her palm. Jimin doesn’t notice, not even when she reaches across the table and lays her hand over Minjeong’s, thanking her for giving her the courage to confess.

Her palm stings and keeps her awake that night, but she decides it’s a fitting punishment.

She traces her fingers over the marks.

A fitting punishment for a coward.

Minjeong doesn’t really know what to do with herself.

Jimin tells her not to wait up, that she’ll be with Yeji for however long, not even sure if she’ll be coming back that evening, but Minjeong waits nonetheless.

She doesn’t know who she is when she isn’t waiting for Jimin.

It feels an awful lot like she’s losing Jimin, not that she’d ever really had her to begin with.

But before, with the exception of Yizhuo and the other odd friends, it had been just them. They came as a duo, as a packaged deal – a two-for-the-price-of-one offer.

Minjeong feels like she’s been left to gather dust.

Maybe they hadn’t been a duo, maybe she’d always been the sidekick, Minjeong considers – maybe she’d been Jimin’s favored plaything for the past two years, but now Jimin’s found something, someone, more meaningful, and has no use for her anymore.

It’s almost oppressive how dire her mood is, but that’s Minjeong – she’s kind only to a few, and the least kind to herself.

Jimin doesn’t return that night, and Yizhuo’s concerned stare is almost as oppressively dire as her mental state.

Losing Jimin, Minjeong realizes, feels a lot like losing herself.

This isn’t fair, Minjeong is sure, as she hears Jimin’s voice calling her and she cranks up the volume higher to drown her out.

She shouldn’t be taking it out on Jimin, but she’s been taking it out on herself for the past two months and it’s exhausting.

“Minjeong!” A hand snatches the remote and switches off the television, Minjeong barely even blinks, “are you ignoring me?”

Minjeong regrets not going out for drinks with Yizhuo, and doesn’t speak a word as Jimin lets out a huff and stomps around the couch to stand in front of her.

“Minjeeongggie!”

“What?” Minjeong snaps her head up, surprising the older girl, “why do you have to do that? Calling my name out like that.” 

Minjeong didn’t quite expect to come out with that, and it’s obvious that Jimin didn’t expect her to either.

“But … it’s your name?”

This is typical Jimin behavior, and Minjeong finds herself agitated by it, that girl is always completely oblivious to what Minjeong is trying to say.

“Why did you have to say it like that,” she’s not angry, not really, it’s more an outpouring of frustration, “Why do you insist on being different? Why do you have to insist on making yourself special?”

Jimin’s been making herself special ever since they met – always the kindest, the sweetest, the prettiest, the funniest, and the best. How was Minjeong supposed to not fall in love with her?

“I …” she’s met with a blink, and a cute tilt of the head as Jimin furrows her brow, totally lost, “I’m confused.”

Minjeong drops her head to the back of the couch, because she shouldn’t be surprised. Such vague accusations were always bound to sail straight over Jimin’s head.

“Don’t worry; I’m just in a bad mood.”

Jimin pouts, the kind of pout that’s persuaded Minjeong to do countless things she never would have done for anyone else in the past, and she throws herself onto the couch beside Minjeong, cuddling into her side immediately.

“Don’t be in a bad mood,” Jimin tucks her head into the crook of Minjeong’s neck and squeezes her arms around Minjeong’s waist tightly, “you’re prettiest when you’re happy.”

Minjeong squeezes her eyes shut, because Jimin’s breath skates across her collarbone and Jimin noses the underside of her jaw, trying to cheer the younger girl up with skinship because that’s always worked before.

Minjeong’s always neglected to mention that skinship only works when it’s Jimin, if anyone else touched her in this way they’d end up kissing the dirty wooden floor.

“So you’re saying I’m not pretty?”

“ No ,” Jimin whines immediately, shifting closer until she’s almost in Minjeong’s lap, jostling the blonde in refutation, “you’re always pretty, but you’re the most pretty when you’re happy,” Jimin tilts her head back and Minjeong cracks open an eye, regretting it immediately when she sees the pout is still in full force, “what can I do to make you happy?”

Minjeong almost doesn’t say anything, or almost gives some false, meaningless answer like “give me all your jewelry” or “let me finish that crappy crime drama.”

Instead, for whatever reason, honesty emerges, and she asks, “Stay.”

Typically Jimin is confused by the request, and so Minjeong elaborates without prompt, “Don’t go out, stay here with me tonight.”

It shouldn’t have felt like a longshot, but it does, especially when Jimin frowns sorrowfully, “I can’t, I promised Yeji …”

“Right,” Minjeong shifts out of Jimin’s grip, bitterness swelling within once more, “whatever. Just go then.”

“No, Minjeong,” Jimin tries to maintain her hold, but Minjeong wins out, moving away completely, “don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” Minjeong pretends to search for the remote, because she doesn’t want to show her embarrassment.

Jimin takes her by surprise, cupping Minjeong’s cheek and forcing their eyes to meet, “Like I’m choosing her over you.”

Minjeong’s voice is quiet, and she hates how pathetic she sounds when she mumbles, “Aren’t you?”

Jimin sighs, and a soft thumb swipes over the curve of Minjeong’s cheekbone, “I promised her,” when Minjeong glances away, Jimin presses forward and her lips briefly meet Minjeong’s other cheek, but she pulls back almost as quickly, “tomorrow. Tomorrow from the crack of dawn to last seconds of the night, I’ll be here, and I’ll be with you, and we’ll have a proper day to ourselves. We’ll order all your favourite food, and watch your favourite movies, and play dumb pranks on Yizhuo, and it’ll be just us,” Jimin waits for Minjeong to meet her eyes once more before continuing, “I just can’t tonight.”

Minjeong lets her go, because, what else can she do?

She has a whole day of Jimin to look forward to, but she can’t help the feeling of being second best.

Her whole relationship with Jimin right now feels like a peeling ‘You Tried’ sticker.

She’s tried to maintain the friendship no matter how much it hurts, but it seems to be falling apart nonetheless.

Yizhuo’s worried about her, Minjeong is surprised to discover. She wasn’t totally convinced that Yizhuo had the emotional capability to worry about anyone, but it appears she had been mistaken.

Obviously, being Yizhuo, she doesn’t come out with it completely, but Minjeong’s perceptive enough to understand why Yizhuo’s been forcing blind date offers on her.

“Nope.”

Yizhuo scowls, “You didn’t even let me tell you her name!”

“Fine,” Minjeong huffs, waving her hand to suggest that Yizhuo should get on with it, “let’s hear it.”

“Minju.”

“Nope.”

Yizhuo gapes, “Why not?”

“Minju?’ that’s too similar to my name.” Minjeong shrugs; ignoring the way Yizhuo’s glaring at her.

“That’s just pathetic,” Yizhuo scolds, “besides, everyone calls you Minjeong not Minju.”

“Isn’t it best that you try and, I don’t know, move on?” Yizhuo asks quietly, Jimin is only in the other room after all, “this isn’t good for you.”

“I’m fine.” Minjeong interjects quickly, but Yizhuo can see right through her.

“You’ve been miserable these past however many months, ever since she and Yeji got together, and it’s only going to get worse, you know that, right?” Yizhuo asks lowly, with her attempt at sympathy, “she can’t give you what you want, and holding onto that hope is only going to hurt you, both of you.”

Yizhuo’s right, annoyingly, Yizhuo’s never wrong, but Minjeong doesn’t want to hear it. It’s not convenient to hear it, not when today’s one of those days when she needs to cling onto Jimin the most.

“Well I’m sorry if I’m not going to take advice from a girl who can’t keep a girlfriend for longer than five minutes,” Minjeong grinds out, “how’s Aeri by the way? Or is she still blocking your number?”

Yizhuo doesn’t answer, her burning glare says enough, and her chair nearly topples over backwards from how quickly the girl stands before she storms out of the apartment.

The door slams loudly and some of the picture frames on the wall rattle as the tremors reverberate throughout the house. A photo of the trio slants almost completely sideways, and it’s oddly fitting.

Jimin walks out of her bedroom with a frown, “Was that Yizhuo? Is she okay?”

“Don’t know,” Minjeong shrugs, standing to her feet also and reaching for her purse, “are you almost ready to go?”

Jimin frowns, “Go where?”

“The café across town, we’re meant to be meeting my mom, remember?”

Jimin drops her head into her hands, “Crap, Minjeong, I totally forgot,” she drags her hands down her face with a sigh, “I said Yeji could come over, we’re going to spend the day together.”

This is too much , Minjeong is convinced, there’s only so much side-lining she can take before she becomes convinced that Jimin no longer cares for her at all.

“But you promised,” Minjeong wraps the strap of her purse around her hand, feeling the leather constricting the flow of blood to her hand, “I’ve told you what she’s like, you know I can’t face her on my own, I need you there, you promised you’d be there this time.”

The one time a year Minjeong has scheduled for tea and cakes with her mother are always the worst few hours of Minjeong’s life. Filled with scathing comments on Minjeong’s life, her attire – filled with questions about boyfriends (way too optimistic), girlfriends (much less optimistic), and marriage (totally out of the question).

She’d begged Jimin to come along this time, she needed Jimin’s strength and undying buoyancy.

Honestly, Minjeong just wants Jimin to care about her.

“I’m really sorry, Minjeong,” Jimin approaches her, but Minjeong takes a step back, knowing what that means, “she’s got a big audition today and I need to be there for her.”

“What about me?” Minjeong asks, starting to feel her voice tremble – maybe half out of fear of her mother, but most likely because she’s about to cry, “I need you too.”

“Minjeong …”

She follows in Yizhuo’s footsteps and leaves without another word.

It’s somewhat devastating, Minjeong considers, that she’s fully aware that Jimin doesn’t love her back, but she’d at least thought that she’d meant more to Jimin than this .

The proverbial ‘You Tried’ sticker falls completely, slips through her fingers, and floats away with the wind.

She’s tried so hard.

Maybe it’s time she gives up on Jimin.

“And so I said, ‘If you haven’t seen Lord of the Dance at least twice on stage, then can you really be a member of the country club?’, and I’ll tell you, the look on Big Fat Joohyun’s face, Minjeong, you should’ve seen it. I would frame it and sell it, but not even a haunted house would accept an image so grotesque.”

Minjeong sips at her tea; every word that spills from her mother’s lips fills her only with more and more disgust.

“Dear, you must come to the Annual Formal this month, people have been asking about you, and it’d be frightfully embarrassing to confess that my daughter rejects high society.”

Minjeong shrugs, having always hated the swanky events at the country club her mother obsesses over, but for whatever reason she doesn’t have the strength to fight back today.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” her mother leans over and grimaces as she tucks some hair behind Minjeong’s ear, “it’d be appreciated if you could get this hair… situated.”

Minjeong just pulls away from her mother’s touch, selecting to stay mute – it’s easier than arguing.

“And find yourself a date, dear, turning up with your mother on your arm would be rather shameful,” her mother sighs, stirring her tea with disdain, having already complained about how it’s obvious that the leaves have come from a tea bag rather than a silk bag, “it’d be nice for you to turn up with a strapping young man on your arm, but a pretty girl will suffice if you’re desperate – speaking of pretty girls, I thought you said we’d have company today?”

Minjeong finally opens her mouth to speak, preparing to disappoint her mother once again, when a voice interrupts them.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Her heart skips a beat. Minjeong knows who it is without lifting her head, but she does anyway.

Jimin stands before them, a bunch of expensive looking flowers in her arms, bowing her head politely to Minjeong’s mother.

Minjeong half expects her mother to make some scathing comment about Jimin’s tardiness, but instead Minjeong’s surprised to see her mother greeting the girl with a wide smile, bearing her teeth and her aging gums. The expensive flowers have done the trick, Minjeong notes, and she silently congratulates Jimin.

“These are gorgeous, such a sophisticated collection, I can tell you’re a girl of great taste,” her mother gushes as she accepts the flowers into her hands and Jimin takes the seat next to Minjeong; she’s still a little wary of Jimin after pretty much getting rejected earlier, but her best friend’s sudden appearance has her shaken, and she almost resents the butterflies that flutter as Jimin beams at Minjeong’s mother, “what’s your name, dear?”

“Jimin, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Kim, your daughter speaks very highly of you.”

Minjeong almost snorts, because she’d never realised that Jimin is such a great actress.

She looks across the table and can tell already that her mother is completely smitten with Jimin, (like mother, like daughter, Minjeong supposes).

“And you’re Minjeong’s fr-?”

“Girlfriend.”

Minjeong feels her heart stop and she almost forgets to breathe for a moment, because only in her dreams has Jimin ever called herself that, and she knows she needs to stop being dramatic, because Jimin’s just doing it to protect Minjeong from her mother’s skepticism, but Jimin’s holding her hand, openly and proudly atop the table, and looks at her lovingly.

Minjeong wonders if this is how Yeji gets to feel every day, and envy takes hold with instant effect.

Her mother is surprised, sure, but it’s obvious that Jimin already has the older woman wrapped around her little finger, and it’s actually amusing to watch. Minjeong wonders if this is how she looks all the time as she observes her mother fawning over Jimin, complimenting her beauty and her manners.

She eventually looks to their hands and her mother’s voice becomes background noise. Jimin could’ve let go a few minutes ago, but she holds on, and Minjeong tells herself that she’s past the stage of reading into things. Taking meaning from this, what is purely an acting exercise for Jimin, would be a little too hopeful even for Minjeong’s standards.

Whilst her mother turns to hail a waiter with an obnoxious click of her fingers, Minjeong engages Jimin, “I thought you were busy.”

Jimin shrugs, skating her thumb over the back of Minjeong’s knuckles, “You needed me here,” she smiles and it drives Minjeong mad, “this was more important.”

The silent ‘ you’re more important ’ is purely subtext, but Minjeong infers it nonetheless from the way Jimin looks at her, purposely trying to convey that very message.

‘Thank you’ Minjeong mouths, and her withering heart skips a beat when Jimin shoots her a wink, and squeezes her hand tighter.

“How was I supposed to know that the Hwang’s were members of the same country club?”

Minjeong tosses her high heels into her cupboard haphazardly, “You can just not go to the formal with Yeji.” 

Jimin sighs, rubbing her temples, “But her parents know me, Minjeong, I can’t show up with you or they’ll think badly of me.”

Minjeong shoves the dress she’d prepared back into the cupboard also, not caring if it gets crumpled, “And I can’t show up with you on Yeji’s arm without my mother knowing we lied to her.”

Jimin reaches past her, rescuing the dress before wrinkles form, and Minjeong grits her teeth as she hears Yeji speaking up from where she’d been standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Why don’t we just all go together, and when we see my parents, I’ll hold Jimin’s hand, and when we see your mom, Minjeong, you can hold her hand?”

Jimin looks delighted by Yeji’s suggestion, and holds the dress out to Minjeong once more.

Minjeong determinedly hates the idea, “It’ll never work, it’s inevitable our parents will want to introduce her to the same people, it’ll just confuse the hell out of everyone, or worse, it’ll make them think we’re poly or something.” Minjeong huffs, ignoring the dress, and slumps down to sit on the edge of her bed, also determinedly hating how unfazed Yeji is by the fact that Jimin pretended to be Minjeong’s girlfriend.

Shouldn’t he get all jealous and possessive about that stuff? And yet the only jealous and possessive person in the room seems to be Minjeong.

“Fine,” Jimin sighs with a tinge of sadness, “I won’t go. That way there’s no confusion.”

Minjeong’s about to convince her otherwise, but Yeji beats her to it, “No way, you’ve been looking forward to this! Listen, I’ll make some excuse to my parents and you can go with Minjeong.”

Minjeong doesn’t interject, because that sounds perfect to her, but disappointment is reflected across every inch of Jimin’s face. She doesn’t want to go with her , she wants to go with Yeji.

“No,” Minjeong exhales heavily, full of regret, but this is what friends do, “I’ll just call my mom and tell her we broke up or something, or tell her the truth, and you can go with Yeji.”

“Minjeong …”

Yeji furrows her brow slightly, speaking on behalf of them both, “But, won’t your mother be mad?”

Minjeong let out a laugh, “Furious,” she shrugs, ignoring Yeji’s sympathetic glance because it’s so much easier to paint Yeji as a villain in her head, “but it’s okay, you two should go together.”

Yeji leaves, making an excuse about needing to make a call, (probably for food delivery, Minjeong assumes), and Jimin plops down beside her, resting her head on Minjeong’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Minjeong,” Jimin mumbles, tracing her fingers over the inside of Minjeong’s wrist, “I shouldn’t have lied to your mother about us, I just wanted her to stop hassling you,” she sighs, and Minjeong’s eyes flutter shut as Jimin’s breath skates across her collarbone, “it was my stupid way of trying to protect you.”

“I know,” Minjeong says, resting her head atop Jimin’s, and for lack of better words, she simply repeats herself, softer this time, “I know.”

Yeji, Minjeong hates to admit, isn’t a villain at all. In fact she swoops in to save the day just like some kind of classic superhero.

“I told my parents about your situation, Minjeong, they know your mom and what she’s like, so when we go to the formal tonight – and by ‘we’ I mean all of us – you’ll hold Jimin’s hand and you’ll introduce her as your girlfriend, and the only people who will know better will be us and my parents, okay?” Yeji crouches before her, beaming up at them like she’s just offered a child her last piece of chocolate, “problem solved.”

Jimin squeals, and throws herself into Yeji’s arms thankfully. Minjeong mutters her thanks, because whilst she still doesn’t like Yeji on principle, the girl did just get her out of a sticky situation.

If Minjeong didn’t have to hate Yeji, she’d adore her.

Love is such a wicked thing.

How ironic that after three years of wanting nothing more, Minjeong suddenly resents having to introduce Jimin as her girlfriend.

It’s partly because Yeji stands beside them (arm linked with Aeri, whose eyes keep lingering on Minjeong just a little too long, and she has to remind herself that Aeri is Yizhuo’s ex, and Yizhuo would kill her if she tried anything ), reminding Minjeong that this is false, this is not her life, Jimin is not hers and this whole evening only exists to torture her surely.

Because now she knows what it’s like to hold Jimin on her arm, to show her off, to introduce her as her girlfriend, to have Jimin non-platonically press kisses to her cheek – and she’ll never get to have this again.

At least her mother is happy, Minjeong considers, watching her mother become almost like a waitress herself in trying to make sure Jimin is catered for. It’s funny, almost, how Jimin is probably the last person in this entire building who cares about being waited on.

After the exhausting round of introductions and pointless socializing (including the vaguely awkward interaction with Yeji’s parents), the foursome retires to the reading room, mainly because it’s empty except for a couple unsubtly flirting in the corner.

Jimin falls into Yeji’s arms immediately, and Minjeong feels even emptier than before.

Aeri’s eyeing her up and down, and Minjeong is seriously not drunk enough for this.

She offers to seek out drinks, rejecting Haruka’s offer of company, and she’s thankful that the fourth floor of the country club building is particularly deserted. Minjeong searches for wait staff, wanting to find and consume as many glasses of fizz as it will take to become numb.

She reaches the mezzanine off of which the long marble spiral staircase begins, and at the very first step sits a waitress, downing a glass of wine from the tray beside her.

Minjeong clears her throat and the short-haired girl splutters, whipping her head around and covering her mouth.

“I won’t say a word,” Minjeong assures her, before smirking, “as long as you’re prepared to share.”

The girl hesitates, her gaze heavy as she takes in every inch of Minjeong, before she smiles, shifts to the side, and pats the space next to her.

She sits and is greeted immediately with a glass of wine. They cheers, and their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses.

“Minjeong.”

Their hands shake between them, and their fingers linger a little too long.

“Hyeju.”

She doesn’t even care whether she’ll get in trouble for drinking with an employee or not, Minjeong’s just glad for a distraction.

Letting a member of the wait staff kiss her in the bathroom of the country club isn’t the classiest thing Minjeong’s ever done, but she’s drunk and the last person she kissed was Jimin, so in the moment it feels like the smartest thing to do.

Hyeju is rough and Minjeong’s not complaining. It’s a break, a nice change from Jimin who is all delicacy and subtlety.

Minjeong scolds herself for still thinking about Jimin whilst Hyeju’s teeth scrape at her neck and her hands palm Minjeong’s lower back.

Hyeju had been sympathetic to Minjeong’s predicament, she herself being in a similar one with a friend since childhood. Minjeong feels bad, she’s only been torturing herself for two and a half years, it could be a lot worse.

Hyeju is sexy and snarky in ways Jimin just isn’t – and it’s not exactly what Minjeong wants, but she figures it’s what she needs. She needs the opposite of Jimin to somehow counteract how everything in her body screams for everything Jimin is.

Of course, Minjeong should have realised, Hyeju and Jimin are not so dissimilar.

Hyeju’s a romantic too, more the hopeless kind like Minjeong, but a romantic nonetheless – and, second only to Jimin, Hyeju’s the least pretentious person in the building.

“Are you sure about this?”

Minjeong’s torn away from her thoughts by the sound of Hyeju’s voice, her tone heavier from her labored breaths, and it’s only then that Minjeong takes notice of the fingers sneaking up her thigh under her dress, and she takes a moment to consider it.

Sure, she hasn’t done this in a while, (not since the last time Jimin had said she dislikes the nights Minjeong stays away from home, and that had been a year and half ago), but Minjeong’s sure it’s kind of like riding a bike – once you know how, you never forget – and right now, she’s a little too drunk to consider the consequences of getting fucked in her mother’s favourite establishment.

She nods, and Hyeju surges forwards, reconnecting their lips with a heated and desperate urgency. Maybe it’s been a while for her too.

God must hate Minjeong, surely , because the second Hyeju’s fingers brush the hem of her underwear, the door opens, and it’s so damn typical that Jimin’s the one who finds them that, in her drunken haze, Minjeong almost laughs.

Jimin, however, doesn’t even look close to laughing. She looks between the pair, (Hyeju takes a step backwards, putting distance between them), and the fire in Jimin’s eyes is something Minjeong’s never seen before.

“You,” Jimin points at Hyeju before jutting her thumb back over her shoulder, “out.”

Hyeju shoots Minjeong a look as if to say ‘good luck’ before she moves away, maneuvers past Jimin and out through the door.

Minjeong straightens out her dress, and moves to the basins, choosing to splash some cold water on her face. She feels Jimin sidling up behind her.

“What do you think you were doing?”

Minjeong sighs and shuts off the water, meeting Jimin’s gaze in the mirror, “What did it look like I was doing?”

“A drunken hook up with a stranger in a bathroom, what were you thinking, Minjeong?”

“Hey,” Minjeong tries to sound angry but she’s too drunk to manage that, and at most, she sounds whiny, “don’t slut shame me.”

She turns and Jimin’s folded her arms over her chest, disapproval radiating from her in waves, “You’re not a slut, and I’m not shaming you, I just think you’re worth more than that,” Jimin sighs, reaching out to fix Minjeong’s mussed up hair, but Minjeong shies away from her touch, “you deserve better than being someone’s meaningless hook up.”

“For the record, she was my meaningless hook up.”

Jimin ignores her statement, “We were worried about you, you’ve been gone for ages.”

“Well, clearly there was no need.” Minjeong brushes past Jimin and heads for the door, but it seems further away than before and it’s probably because she’s taking tiny little baby steps, not by sober choice.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” Jimin calls after her, stopping Minjeong in her tracks, “whatever I did to make you act like this – I didn’t mean it, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Minjeong can’t resist smiling ironically, because there’s no way Jimin can keep that promise.

“You’ve been different these past few months – you think I don’t notice, but I do,” Minjeong tenses as Jimin moves closer, pressing gently against Minjeong’s back, resting her chin on Minjeong’s shoulder, and Jimin speaks so softly, with such care and tenderness, that Minjeong falls for her over and over again, “I don’t know what’s happened, but you’re hurt, and I know it’s my fault. Please let me fix this, Minjeong, I never want to be the reason you’re hurting, not ever.”

Minjeong doesn’t consider being honest, not even for a second, just chooses to mumble, “There’s nothing wrong.”

A few seconds pass, before Jimin exhales heavily, “Fine, don’t tell me,” she drops a kiss to where Minjeong’s neck meets her shoulder blade and it sends sparks down Minjeong’s spine, “I’ll just have to figure it out for myself,” Jimin moves to stand in front of Minjeong, and hooks a finger under Minjeong’s chin, lifting it until their eyes meet, “I’m not giving up on you, Kim Minjeong, not for a damn second, so don’t you dare even consider pushing me away.”

Minjeong hates herself enough to not even consider doing that for a second.

They pass Hyeju on their way out. Jimin grabs Minjeong’s wrist and marches her ahead, though there’s no reason to, Hyeju is preoccupied with having her ear talked off by another waitress.

Their eyes meet, and there’s a flash of recognition. That girl is Hyeju’s ‘Jimin’.

Hyeju just smiles tiredly until the other girl demands her attention once more, and Minjeong almost laughs, because this girl has had Hyeju’s attention for over twenty years.

Jimin drags her along, clearly still unimpressed by Minjeong and Hyeju’s encounter for whatever reason, and Minjeong becomes reflective as she looks back at her over her shoulder one last time.

It’s strange how you can cross paths with someone, even just for a moment, and yet you can completely and utterly understand how each other are feeling.

Minjeong presumes, with some reluctance, that that’s the last time for a while that she’ll meet someone who knows how it feels to be in this … this . This indescribable agony.

They meet with Yeji and Yizhuo outside. Yeji looks shaken to her core, holding up a far from sober and inconsolably hysterical Yizhuo, (apparently someone had mentioned Aeri, and it’d set her off).

They set Yizhuo off in a separate cab, none of them quite maintaining the appropriate energy and resilience to make sure she gets home okay, and the remaining trio bundle into the back of another taxi.

Jimin sits between them, though her hand is on Yeji’s thigh and her head is on Yeji’s shoulder, and Minjeong thumps her head against the cold window.

Agony indeed.

“ Minjeong. ”

She grumbles, trying to roll away but Jimin’s dexterously adept at grabbing Minjeong’s attention in more ways than one.

“Minjeong, Wake up.”

Minjeong cracks open an eye, the light is almost as blinding as Jimin’s beaming grin, and so she quickly shuts it again.

“ No ,” Jimin whines, shaking Minjeong’s shoulder, “you have to get up.”

Suddenly, she receives a kiss to the shoulder, then a kiss to collarbone, the neck, and finally a wet kiss to the cheek, each enunciated with a loud “mwah”.

It’s too much, everything is too much lately, and so she huffs, “Go away,” and blindly shoves Jimin back by the shoulder – maybe a little too harshly, because Jimin falls back to the other side of the bed with a thud.

Minjeong opens her eyes fully when she hears, “Ouch,” Jimin pouts and rubs at the sore spot on her shoulder, “I thought you liked kisses.”

“Go kiss your girlfriend.” Minjeong says through gritted teeth, rolling onto her side and away from Jimin.

Silence hangs between them for a moment, until,

“If it’s been making you uncomfortable, you could have just said something,” Jimin mumbles, her voice quiet and slightly vulnerable, “you shouldn’t have let me do it all the time.”

Minjeong sighs heavily, because it’s plainly obvious, (to her, at least), why she lets Jimin drops kisses all over her skin.

She rolls onto her back, ashamed to see Jimin’s hurt pout on her lips, “It’s not that – I’m just tired and grouchy. You’re fine.”

Jimin eyes her doubtfully, but accepts her words nonetheless, “So, the kisses aren’t the problem?”

Minjeong forces a reassuring smile, and shakes her head, “The kisses aren’t the problem.”

“But I’m still the problem.” Jimin concludes quietly, more to herself than to Minjeong, who quickly pushes up into a seated position.

“I’ve already told you, there’s no problem. You haven’t done anything.”

Jimin definitely doesn’t believe her this time, and Minjeong knows that she needs to find a way to convince Jimin otherwise, because it kills her that Jimin’s been worrying over this, over her.

Minjeong doesn’t deserve Jimin’s concern over a situation she herself has created in its entirety.

“You need to get away,” Minjeong frowns at Yizhuo’s comment, backing up slightly, but Yizhuo rolls her eyes and clarifies, “you need some space, from Jimin. It’s not good for you to be around her like this all the time – I think you could do with a little distance.”

It’s not the worst idea Minjeong’s ever heard, “What do you suggest?”

Yizhuo blows on her steaming coffee as she deliberates, “My parents’ beach house. We go for one or two weeks. We’ll take Yunjin and Chaewon with us, and we have fun and relax and forget all about being hopelessly in love with our best friends, or at least, you’ll do that last part.”

“We can’t just go without her,” Minjeong sighs, “she already thinks I’ve got a problem with her as it is.”

Yizhuo shrugs, unfazed by the potential scuppering of their plan, “We just pick a week we know she can’t do – like, I’ll persuade Yeji to book something romantic for the two of them which will just so happen to coincide with our trip.”

Minjeong eyes Yizhuo warily, “You really have a plan for every situation, don’t you?”

Yizhuo smirks over the rim of her mug, “Fail to prepare then prepare to fail, and all that.”

“Don’t forget me, okay?” Jimin pouts as she throws one of Minjeong’s bikinis into the suitcase, looking like a child that’s having their favorite toy taken away.

Minjeong neglects to mention that forgetting Jimin is basically the whole point of the trip, and instead, laughs, and replies, “It’s only a couple of weeks.”

Jimin puts Minjeong’s flip-flops aside, “I know,” she hesitates before throwing her arms around Minjeong’s neck, pulling her into a crushing hug, burying her nose in Minjeong’s hair, and her lips brush against Minjeong’s ear as she mumbles, “I’ll just miss you.”

Minjeong falls into it, and wraps her arms around Jimin’s back, returning the hug.

She’s going to miss her friend too.

She just hopes that, when she returns, being Jimin’s friend will be enough for her.

“It’s nice here.” Chaewon comments, wrapping a blanket around herself. The day had been warm, but the night was a little chilly, and so a few meters ahead of them, Yizhuo and Yunjin set up a fire.

Minjeong digs her toes into the sand a little, cold hands clasped around an even colder beer bottle, and she lets Chaewon spread a blanket over both of their legs.

“Yizhuo told me,” Chaewon confesses quietly after a moment, not wanting to draw the attention of the pair ahead, “about why you needed to get away, and, I know we’re not that close but I just wanted to say that, if you ever wanted to talk, then I’m here.”

Minjeong grips her bottle a little tighter, initially angry at Yizhuo for sharing her secret, but then she remembers all those months ago Yizhuo revealing that everyone already knows , and she actually appreciates Chaewon pretending otherwise.

“Thanks,” Minjeong mumbles, before taking a sip of her drink, “but I think Yizhuo’s intention was to not talk or think about Jimin for once,” Chaewon laughs and nods in acceptance, “so how about you? Anyone you’re hopelessly in love with?”

Poor Chaewon, she’s never been the best at hiding her emotions, and though her eyes only flicker over to Yunjin for a heartbeat, Minjeong catches it nonetheless.

“Ah,” Minjeong smiles wryly, “you too, huh?”

Chaewon quickly shakes her head, totally in denial. Maybe Chaewon is still in the early stages, Minjeong wonders; maybe to Chaewon it’s still a harmless crush.

Minjeong only knows all too well how quickly that can change.

“A little word of advice,” Minjeong leans closer, lowering her voice, “confess now, or get out. Because trust me, you don’t want to end up like this.”

Chaewon looks a little shaken, and Minjeong only feels a little regretful for intimidating the older girl so, but it needed to be said.

She only wishes someone had been there to say the same to her two years ago.

Chaewon glances out over the horizon, clearly deep in thought, and so Minjeong turns her attention to Yunjin, who watches Chaewon through the flames, a soft smile on her lips.

Minjeong downs the rest of her drink, half-thankful, half-envious that Chaewon’s story won’t end up like hers or Hyeju’s.

Jimin: Minjeong :( this is like the hundredth text I’ve sent this week, I know you’re having tons of fun in the sun without me, but can you spare five seconds to reply just so I know you’re actually still alive?

Chaewon tells her to leave it, because Minjeong’s been doing so well in blocking out any thoughts of Jimin, but there’s a double sad face, and Minjeong’s never been good at denying Jimin anything.

Minjeong: I’m alive. Happy?

Jimin: No. I miss you...

Minjeong does ignore this one, and not just because Chaewon threatens to drown Minjeong’s phone in her cup of tea. It’s early in the morning, and Minjeong’s actually surprised that Jimin’s awake at this time. Maybe Jimin couldn’t sleep. Minjeong tries not to consider whether Jimin’s stayed up worried about her.

She bids farewell to Chaewon and goes for a jog along the seafront. She feels her phone vibrating in her pocket another couple of times, and only checks it after an hour, when she finally slows to a stop.

Jimin: Minjeong

Jimin: Minjeooonggieee

Jimin: Why are you ignoring me?

Jimin: Minjeong, please reply :(

Jimin: Please

Minjeong wants to be strong enough to keep ignoring Jimin but there’s no Yizhuo here to scold her and no Chaewon to threaten the safety of her phone.

Minjeong: I’m sorry, Jimin. I came out here for a break, for some peace, to clear my head. I can’t do that with you bombarding me like this. Please, don’t reply again.

It might be too harsh, but she’s always a little too soft to Jimin anyway. She just hopes Jimin fulfils her ask.

In Jimin’s defence, she doesn’t reply to the message.

She calls Minjeong instead.

Don’t answer it, don’t answer it, don’t –

“What?”

“ Minjeong, you can’t just say something like that and then tell me not to reply.”

Minjeong shrugs, squinting out at the sun rising over the sea-line, “Why not?”

“ Because I’m worried about you, ” Jimin says, her voice small-sounding, full of concern, “ I’m scared because I’ve hurt you somehow, and I can’t fix it if you’re on the other side of the country ignoring me.”

“I never said you hurt me.”

Jimin sighs, “You didn’t have to say it.”

There’s silence for a minute, and in that time Minjeong sits down on the sand, letting the tide tickle her toes as the sea reaches out to her in waves.

“ Say something.”

“Like what?” Minjeong mumbles, absently drawing a heart in the sand with her free index finger.

“ Do you really want me to leave you alone? Because if that’s what you want, Minjeong, I will. If that’s the only thing that will help, then I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, I need some time,” Minjeong exhales after a moment, brushing the heart away with the back of her hand, “that’s what I want.”

She hears Jimin’s voice wavering, much like her resilience, but Minjeong stays firm, even when Jimin admits, “ I’m still going to miss you.”

“Me too,” she allows herself to confess, because it’s the truth, and she doesn’t want Jimin thinking even for a second that Minjeong doesn’t care about her, “I’ll see you in a week, I guess.”

She hangs up when Jimin bids her farewell, bitterness stirring within when she catches the sound of Yeji’s voice in the background and presumes that Jimin won’t even spare her a thought.

Minjeong brings her knees up to her chest and rests her forehead against them, because she only has a week. She can’t fall out of love in a week.

She’s stirred from her thoughts at the sound of loud barking and thundering footsteps in the sand. Minjeong looks up just in time to see a large bulldog bounding towards her, dragging its owner along behind it.

The bulldog immediately jumps onto her, trying to lick at Minjeong’s face gleefully.

“I’m so sorry! Chomp, down!”

The owner, a girl with dark hair and a couple of inches taller than Minjeong in height, manages to wrestle the dog away. Minjeong doesn’t even have the heart to be as mad as she usually would, and even lets out a laugh as she wipes some of the slobber off of her face.

“He gets very excitable around new people, especially pretty girls, so I guess I can’t blame him,” the girl explains, a cheery yet cheeky grin on her lips as she reaches her hand out to Minjeong, “I’m Ryujin, not this nightmare’s owner, by the way.”

Minjeong shakes Ryujin’s hand, allowing Ryujin to help her to her feet as she does so, “Minjeong, nice to meet you,” she gestures to Chomp, who is still trying to leap up at her, “whose is he then?”

Ryujin shrugs, “Don’t know. I stole him,” at Minjeong’s gaping expression, Ryujin lets out a howl of laughter, “I’m kidding, he belongs to my neighbors – they pay me to walk him, not enough but still.”

After chatting for an hour or so, it’s clear that Ryujin isn’t Minjeong’s type at all . She’s too mysterious and kind of obnoxious, but she’s so many things that Jimin isn’t that when Ryujin asks Minjeong (and by proxy, Yizhuo, Chaewon, and Yunjin) to her party that night, Minjeong agrees, and even lets Ryujin scrawl her phone number down on her palm.

Yizhuo grins when she catches a glimpse of Minjeong’s palm – and not her creepy ‘I’m going to murder you’ smile either.

Minjeong isn’t totally in the mood for a party, but Yizhuo’s smile quickly becomes the scary death grin and Minjeong knows she has no choice in the matter.

Ryujin’s friends are less like Minjeong’s and more Chaewon and Yunjin’s, but Minjeong isn’t too bothered. There’s alcohol and the younger attendees leave her alone for the most part, so she has no complaints.

“I got you another drink.”

Minjeong’s sat out on the porch, and she looks up as Ryujin joins her, accepting the drink into her hands whilst giving her thanks.

“I bumped into your friend Chaewon whilst I was in there – she mentioned something about a girl …” Ryujin takes a sip of her drink, laughing slightly, “actually, I was asking if you were single, and she said it’s ‘complicated’.”

Minjeong silently curses Chaewon and her big mouth, and takes a long swig of her beverage before replying, “I am single. There’s this girl, but …” she trails off, hoping Ryujin understands.

“She’s already seeing someone?” Ryujin fills in the blanks, exhaling heavily when Minjeong nods, “I’m sorry, that sucks.”

Minjeong can only shrug, “It is what it is,” because she’s getting tired of the sympathy, “I’m kinda here to forget about her, y’know?”

“Say no more,” Ryujin catches on quickly, grinning when the music inside gets cranked up louder, “do you know Bombastic ?”

Minjeong furrows her brow, speaking with an edge of indignation, “What’s that, like, a song?”

Ryujin gapes at her with complete seriousness, “It’s a way of life.”

It crosses Minjeong’s mind more than once over the course of the evening that Ryujin is completely and utterly mad . But she’s funny and somewhere during their conversation, for a whole half an hour, Minjeong doesn’t think about Jimin once.

At the end of the night, she takes Ryujin’s hand and writes down her own phone number. It’s completely unnecessary because she has Ryujin’s number already, but she likes the way Ryujin’s face lights up at the gesture nonetheless, and the way Ryujin rushes forward to kiss her cheek after Minjeong holds up her own hand, covered still in smudged ink, and says, “now we match.”

She wakes up in a cold sweat. She’s been dreaming about Jimin again.

Jimin’s hands, her mouth, her everything.

Minjeong could almost cry, because she was stupid to think that thirty minutes without thinking about Jimin meant she was getting better.

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Yizhuo stops packing her suitcase, and faces Minjeong with a deep-set frown.

“I mean, if it’s okay with your parents that is, but I’m not ready to go back, not yet,” Minjeong sighs, toying with the sleeves of her sweater, “Chaewon said she’d stay too. We just need a little more time to figure ourselves out. Ryujin’s cousin runs a music shop and he said we could use it while we’re here.”

Yizhuo runs her hand through her hair, “What do you mean Chaewon needs time? Figure out what?”

Minjeong gestures out of the window to where Yunjin is asleep in the garden, her head on Chaewon’s lap. Yizhuo’s mouth forms an ‘o’ in understanding.

Yizhuo returns to her suitcase, “Have you mentioned this to Jimin? She’ll be expecting you home tomorrow.”

Minjeong shrugs, passing Yizhuo one of the girl’s tiny shirts, “We’re still taking a break from talking. You can tell her, or not, she’ll figure it out quick enough when you go back without me.”

Yizhuo sighs, not meeting her eye, “Look after yourself while I’m gone.”

Minjeong grins, “You’re gonna miss me.”

“Gross,” Yizhuo throws the shirt back in Minjeong’s face, “no way.”

Minjeong tosses the shirt aside and pulls Yizhuo into a hug. It’s awkward, because they’re so not those kinds of friends, but she knows the cold pat on the back she receives is affirmation enough that Yizhuo’s going to miss her.

“ She’s devastated, Minjeong. ”

Okay, this is the last thing Minjeong needs to hear right now, and she clutches her cushion tightly to her chest as Yizhuo speaks through the phone in hushed whispers.

“ She cooked your favorite food, bought flowers and everything, everything you love. Christ, Minjeong, she almost broke down when I walked through that door without you.”

“What did you say?”

Yizhuo sighs, “ I said that you’re sorry and that you needed more time. She just shut herself in her room after that; I think she was crying …”

Minjeong ignores Chaewon’s concerned gaze from the other side of the couch, and buries her teeth into her bottom lip, trying not to break.

“The food was great though.”

She spends three weeks with Chaewon and Ryujin.

Spending so much time with the latter girl hadn’t been Minjeong’s intention, but Ryujin had found her crying that night, sat out by the tide (she’d snuck out once Chaewon had succumbed to sleep), and every morning since, Ryujin has come by their house early, arms filled with fresh food, making both of them breakfast without prompt or complaint.

Chaewon smirks unsubtly every time Ryujin sits close to Minjeong, and every time Ryujin blushes when their hands accidentally brush one another’s.

Ryujin treats them well, both of them. She supplies them with snacks and compliments whilst they use her cousin’s music shop. She takes them out for lunch or dinner at the best places. Sometimes they’re accompanied by Yuna or Ryujin’s other friends, sometimes it’s just the three of them, and after the first week, it becomes just the two of them.

Chaewon finds ‘excuses’ to be busy – she wants to rehearse late and alone, or she’s promised Kazuha to go shopping, or whatever. Minjeong doesn’t mind too much, she enjoys Ryujin’s company more and more with each day.

Maybe before, Minjeong would have turned her nose up at someone as mysterious but now loud as Ryujin, but she finds herself becoming accustomed to it.

Of course, she prefers it when Ryujin’s quieter – when Ryujin’s being sincere, and caring, and when she becomes shy when Minjeong holds her hand like it’s nothing, (even though it feels strange and out of place to Minjeong, she does it nonetheless).

She stays for two more weeks, but she knows she can’t stay forever.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Ryujin’s tone is melancholy, and she scuffs the sand with her foot, choosing to watch the way the light from the moon bounces off the waves rather than at Minjeong.

“In the morning,” Minjeong confirms, sighing at Ryujin’s downcast expression, “I’m sorry.”

Ryujin tears her gaze away and meets Minjeong’s eye, “Don’t be. I knew you had to go sometime,” Ryujin chews her lip for a moment before asking, “are you scared about seeing her?”

Minjeong knows what Ryujin’s asking, and she nods slowly, “Kinda.” She doesn’t know what to expect – not just whether Jimin’s going to be mad at her or not, but how she’s going to feel when she comes face to face with her again. It feels like she’s been getting better in these five weeks without Jimin, but who knows? It could all come flooding back the second they lock eyes once more.

Minjeong’s shaken from her thoughts by the feeling of lips pressing against her cheek, and she looks to see Ryujin pulling away with a sheepish pink tinge to her cheeks, “I know you’re not ready now, but, if you come back in a year, and, if you’re a little less in love with your best friend and if you haven’t found anyone else, then …” Ryujin shrugs, “I’ll still be here.”

Minjeong surges forward, tangles her fingers in Ryujin’s dark hair, and kisses her deeply.

She doesn’t know what’ll happen in a year, she doesn’t even know what’ll happen in the next day, but a part of her grows fond of the idea of coming back to this beach and spending every day with the loud, dramatic nerd who’s obsessed with ‘Bombastic’.

It’s not Jimin, and maybe that’s why she likes it.

Yizhuo and Yunjin meet them at the airport. Jimin is there too.

Minjeong almost bails when she sees her in the distance, and wonders if she can launch herself onto the luggage concession line and get taken far, far away from here. But Chaewon seems to be able to read her mind and clutches onto Minjeong’s arm with an iron grip, leading her over to the trio.

Yunjin rips Chaewon away from Minjeong as soon as they’re within reach and into a massive hug which lifts the older girl into the air. It’s cute, and Minjeong can tell that even Yizhuo agrees when she sees the tiniest of smiles on Yizhuo’s lips.

Yizhuo reaches out and pats Minjeong firmly on the shoulder, taking her suitcase from her hand, “Good to have you back.”

Minjeong feels tense when she meets Jimin’s gaze. She looks slightly skinnier than Minjeong remembers, and the circles under her eyes are slightly darker, but she still smiles at Minjeong just like before.

“Hey.” Minjeong says, awkwardly clearing her throat. She notices Yizhuo pretending to be preoccupied with sassing Yunjin and Chaewon, and silently thanks her for the discretion.

“Hey.” Jimin repeats, looking her up and down.

A beat passes, and then Jimin surges forwards, wrapping her arms around Minjeong’s neck in a hug just like the one they had before she left.

Just like before, Minjeong holds Jimin around the waist, letting Jimin’s citrus scent wash over her.

Her stomach coils in on itself, and it feels different, but it still feels like love.

But this time, Minjeong thinks, she might be able to cope.

Jimin’s being quiet, not in the purposeful, ‘I’m ignoring you’ sense, but she just stares more than she talks, letting Yunjin and Yizhuo and Chaewon steer the conversation.

Minjeong’s worried about her, briefly wondering if something’s happened between her and Yeji, briefly regretting cutting herself off from Jimin completely, because what if something’s happened and Minjeong wasn’t there for her?

“Minjeong, you sly dog.”

She looks to Yizhuo upon hearing her name, having been completely oblivious to the conversation taking place.

“Sly what?”

Yizhuo rolls her eyes, “Chaewon told me about you getting close to a certain someone whilst we were gone,” Minjeong clenches her jaw, despising both Chaewon and Yizhuo for bringing this up right now, “so tell me, is Ryujin a good kisser?”

Minjeong chokes on her mouthful of pasta, and this seems to draw the attention of Jimin, who’d been looking as out of it as Minjeong had been.

“What’s this?” Jimin asks warily, and Minjeong waves it off quickly.

“It’s nothing, they’re just messing around.” Minjeong promptly denies, but a scoff from Chaewon tells her there’s no escaping this.

“Please, Minjeong, I saw you two kissing on the beach last night.”

Frightfully embarrassed, and totally confused by the way Jimin’s looking at her, Minjeong shoves Chaewon and calls her a “stalker” and a “pervert.”

The conversation moves on swiftly after that, but Minjeong doesn’t find herself partaking in much of it.

She’s too preoccupied with the way Jimin had suddenly “stopped being hungry” after the discussion about Ryujin.

Minjeong retires to her bedroom whilst Yizhuo drives Chaewon and Yunjin home. Yunjin and Chaewon leave, hands intertwined, and it spreads warmth through Minjeong’s chest.

She’s too tired to even think about unpacking, and so just flops down on her bed, glad to at least be back in her own room.

She only enjoys peace for a few minutes before there’s a gentle knock at the door. It’s open and Jimin’s never knocked before, but things are different than before, and so Jimin waits in the doorway for Minjeong’s response.

Minjeong gestures for Jimin to come in, still too knackered to sit up, and just watches as Jimin tentatively enters. She hesitates before carefully sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing Minjeong.

“Tired?” Jimin asks after a moment and Minjeong just nods.

Jimin picks at a loose thread on the duvet and it reminds Minjeong of the sleeve of the shirt she can no longer wear.

“Not seeing Yeji tonight?” Minjeong queries and Jimin furrows her brow deeply at the question.

“Tonight is the first time I’ve seen my best friend in five weeks,” she stops toying with the thread to study Minjeong intently, “where else would I be?”

No matter how much Minjeong hates it, her heart flutters.

Jimin gestures towards her, “May I …?”

Minjeong smiles softly, and holds out her arms; Jimin falls into them eagerly, curling into Minjeong’s side without hesitation.

“Sorry I was gone so long.” Minjeong mumbles after a couple of minutes, and she feels more than sees Jimin shaking her head.

“You did what you had to,” Jimin furrows in closer, wrapping an arm securely around Minjeong’s waist, “I’m just glad you’re back.”

So maybe Minjeong’s a little less in love with Jimin than before, but she’s still head over heels, and maybe she’s just going to have to accept that.

Maybe she’s always going to be in love with Jimin no matter what she does and no matter how many pretty beach girls come her way.

Maybe that’s simply her purpose on this mortal plane: to love Jimin truly, madly, deeply, and unselfishly, and with her whole heart.

She could have been put on this Earth for worse things, Minjeong figures, as Jimin’s breathing evens out, and the love of her life falls asleep in her arms.

Jimin’s been different ever since Minjeong came back.

She doesn’t see Yeji as often, but even in the increased time she spends with Minjeong, she’s quieter.

Minjeong figures Jimin’s still mad at her for leaving, even though the girl is far too kind to ever admit to being mad in the first place.

It’s been a couple of weeks and they haven’t really talked about ‘ it ’ – the fact that Minjeong confessed to needing space from Jimin whilst refusing to explain why.

Minjeong can practically see the question waiting to spill from Jimin’s lips, but the girl never asks, and whilst Minjeong’s thankful, it’s frustrating, because she can see it’s eating away at Jimin.

They’ve been sent out on the orders of Chaewon to pick up some sheet music for her piano recital, but as per usual, they’re dawdling and letting themselves get distracted.

Minjeong wants to go to Jimin and strike up a conversation, but she feels scared to, because Jimin looks so lost in thought today, Minjeong would feel like she’s intruding.

She heads towards the counter to retrieve the required sheet music the owner has put aside for Chaewon. The worker at the counter is, awkwardly enough, Gowon – the unrequited love of Minjeong’s one-time-almost-hook-up Hyeju. Gowon doesn’t recognise her, thankfully, and Minjeong takes the sheet music and retreats quickly.

When she returns, she finds Jimin in the back corner of the store, seated before a dusty looking grand piano, pressing at the keys one-handedly with delicacy and without strenuousness.

Minjeong approaches Jimin carefully, because the tune sounds melancholy and it appears to perfectly match the mood Jimin’s been in for the past however many weeks.

She doesn’t know whether she should make her presence known, because interrupting what looks like such perfect serenity isn’t high on Minjeong’s wish list, but she eventually does it nonetheless, because watching from a distance might raise the suspicion of passers-by.

“I didn’t know you played.”

Jimin turns her head in her direction only slightly, a small smile growing on her lips, “Not really.”

The stool is small and only intended to seat one person, but Jimin shifts up even so to make room for Minjeong.

If the song is a pre-existing piece, Minjeong’s not encountered it before, and the thought of Jimin making the tune up as she goes is even more impressive to her. She sits somewhat rigidly, flush against Jimin’s side, barely moving in fear of nudging the girl and ruining the flow.

As Jimin’s other hand moves to take up the helm and join the piece, Minjeong’s phone vibrates in her pocket. She removes it, checking the identity of whoever’s breaking her Jimin induced haze.

It’s Ryujin, and Minjeong feels Jimin tense beside her. Jimin continues, pretending to have not seen the screen even though Minjeong knows she did, and so Minjeong makes a show of returning the phone to her pocket without replying, before refocusing her attention on the girl beside her.

A small smile grows on Jimin’s lips, and she turns her head away slightly to hide it.

Minjeong watches Jimin’s fingers deftly spring from note to note in awe – only wishing she could be skilled in such a way. Eventually, as always, her gaze shifts away from Jimin’s hands, slowly dragging up the girl’s arm, shoulder, and neck, until she’s staring intently at the side profile of Jimin’s face.

The piece subtly increases in tempo, and the higher range takes Jimin’s hands further up to Minjeong’s side of the piano, bringing them involuntarily closer.

She knows she should look away and break the growing tension, but Jimin is only centimeters away, and Minjeong is captivated as always.

After a moment, Jimin meets her gaze, and it’s the first time she misses a note.

Minjeong feels Jimin’s breath skate across her lips, and they’re so close the tips of their noses brush together.

Jimin continues to play nonetheless, but the tempo slows to a snail’s pace, like she has to remind herself to hit the notes, and like it’s a drag to shift her fingers across the keys.

Finally, and unsurprisingly, a hand slips completely, and it lands on Minjeong’s knee.

Minjeong jolts, only minimally, at the contact, but the hand doesn’t move.

Jimin doesn’t meet her eyes, though Minjeong isn’t sure if Jimin’s looking at her lips or if Jimin’s even looking at her at all, because the girl’s gaze is so unfocused.

Jimin’s left hand struggles to keep up the fledgling tune, and her brow is furrowed, like she’s confused at quite how they’ve ended up in this position, and like she doesn’t know what to do about it.

Minjeong is sympathetic, because right now her mind is racing, and her heart slams against her chest at a thundering pace when Jimin is the one to edge closer.

She’s conflicted, unsure whether she should be surging forwards or pulling away, and she isn’t certain which would ruin their friendship more, (the first one, Minjeong, of course the first one would).

Luckily, the piano makes the decision for her. Jimin’s left hand inevitably slips across the keys, and the discordant note which follows causes them both to jump back.

Jimin's glaring down at the piano, like she blames it for causing this . Minjeong grabs her phone, mumbling some excuse about calling Ryujin back because she needs to get out, get some space, and ponder over whatever the hell that was.

Minjeong could understand it if she’d been the one to lean in because, well, she’s the one in love with Jimin.

But she swears Jimin had been the one making the move, though, the more she replays it in her mind, the more Minjeong is convinced she’d been imagining it – because there’s no way Jimin was going to kiss her.

So what if they’ve kissed before? That was to prove a point to some douche in a bar, that doesn’t count.

Jimin, quite rightfully, spends a couple of days with Yeji after that. Instead of wallowing and overthinking like she normally would, Minjeong actually gets out of the apartment and does stuff to distract herself.

She goes to Chaewon’s recital and claps the loudest (second only to Yunjin) from the audience. She gets drinks with Yizhuo, and helps the girl hide when Aeri enters with some new girl on her arm. She video chats with Ryujin, virtually taking the girl on mini tours of the city.

It’s calming and definitely a lot healthier than any of her previous Jimin related coping methods.

“ So, what happened?”

Minjeong frowns and turns the phone around so she can face Ryujin once more – she had been holding the phone the other way so Ryujin could see the river, (it’s unsurprising that being with Ryujin naturally leads her to water).

“What do you mean?”

Ryujin shoots her a look, before clarifying, “ Well, you said you were spending all your time with Jimin, but suddenly, you find the time to FaceTime me for a couple of hours a day – so spill. ”

Minjeong sighs, “Listen, I don’t want to read into it or anything, or make a big deal, but … I think she almost kissed me.”

Ryujin’s uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, but her eyes widen, before helowly draws, “Shit.”

Minjeong’s quick to elucidate, “I-I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing at most. And who knows, I’m not even a hundred percent sure that I didn’t make it up,” Ryujin’s still eyeing her doubtfully, so Minjeong adds, “You had to be there to understand.”

“What were you doing?”

Minjeong shrugs, “We were in the music shop.”

Ryujin rolls her eyes, “Wow, romantic.”

“Shut up,” Minjeong huffs, “like I said, you had to be there.”

Ryujin’s silent for another minute, the screen glitches at least twice, before she says, “ Minjeong, if she almost kissed you, then –”

“Don’t.” Minjeong quickly cuts her off, not wanting Ryujin to even go there .

“But –”

“Seriously, don’t .”

Minjeong doesn’t want to take those kinds of thoughts into consideration right now, because if she starts to question Jimin’s feelings, then she might as well be back at square one, (back in that bedroom all those months ago when she’d thought Jimin was confessing to her .)

She lets out a sigh of relief when Ryujin changes the subject.

“Hey, so I’m gonna be up near you sometime next week – cousin’s got some golf tournament a couple of cities over, but I think I can spare a day to make a visit … if that’s okay?” Ryujin asks her tentatively, like she’s making sure she’s not crossing some kind of boundary, but Minjeong smiles, quite genuinely, and they spend the next half an hour making plans.

Ryujin doesn’t mention Jimin again, and for that, Minjeong is thankful.

“You better not bring that hellhound Chomp.”

Ryujin laughs, “But he was so looking forward to seeing you!”

Minjeong’s shrugging on her jacket to go out when Jimin finally makes her return, a bagful of takeout in her arms.

“Where’re you going?” Jimin asks, clearly not used to the social butterfly side of Minjeong, “I got food.”

“I’m meeting Ryujin.” Minjeong replies absentmindedly, checking her phone for Ryujin’s train times once more.

Jimin furrows her brow, “She’s in town?”

Minjeong shrugs, “Yeah – I would’ve mentioned, but …” But we haven’t spoken since last week .

Jimin nods slowly in understanding, clearly disappointed, “Can’t you stay even for a minute?” she jostles the bag slightly; “I got your favorite.”

“Sorry,” Minjeong grabs her purse and pulls the long strap over her shoulder, “I promised Ryujin I’d get her lunch and I’m gonna be late. Yizhuo will be on her break soon, just eat with her.”

She checks the time and heads for the door, brushing past Jimin without hesitation.

Guilt gnaws at her when she hears Jimin’s quiet voice mumble, “But I wanted to eat with you .”

Minjeong forces herself to keep walking, to not give in, because she can’t always give up everything for Jimin.

She loves her, but that’s not fair.

“What do you mean Yuna’s on crutches?”

Minjeong gapes with worry whilst Ryujin nods her confirmation, taking a long lick of her ice cream before replying, “Yeah. She dropped her lunch down a manhole and the dumbass actually jumped down to rescue it,” Ryujin laughs and shakes her head, “I swear, that girl needs constant supervision, I’m actually worried how many limbs she’s damaged whilst I’ve been gone.”

“Well, she’s got Heejin, Hyunjin, and Yerim to look after her, I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

Ryujin scoffs, “Those idiots? Please.”

Minjeong narrows her eyes slightly, “As if you’re much better.”

Ryujin claps a hand to her chest, offended, before she looks out over the river. It had been Ryujin’s idea to get ice creams and to sit by the waterfront after lunch – it’s different, of course, there’s grass instead of sand, but it’s a reminder of that month by the beach nonetheless.

“The river’s nicer in person.” Ryujin admires, and Minjeong shoots her a sly grin.

“You’re nicer in person.”

Ryujin blushes, only for a second, before she turns her head to glare at Minjeong, “Are you saying I look like crap through a phone camera?”

Minjeong shrugs, idly licking her ice cream, “You said it, not me.”

Ryujin gasps in outrage, and knocks Minjeong’s hand up so the ice cream smudges against her cheek.

Minjeong wipes away the ice cream deftly with the back of her hand, but before she can launch a counterattack, something – or someone – catches her eye.

Her heart sinks, because it’s typical that Jimin and Yeji would show up right about now when Minjeong’s having a nice time not being preoccupied by those thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asks, taking note of Minjeong’s sudden mood swing.

Minjeong gestures past Ryujin to a few meters away where Jimin and Yeji are laughing at a pair of fighting swans.

Ryujin studies them for a second, before turning back to Minjeong with concern, “Is that her?”

Minjeong nods, and Ryujin’s eyes widen as she turns to look at them once more, “That one?”

“Dark long hair. The other one is the girlfriend.”

Ryujin lets out a low whistle, “She’s pretty, and –” And she’s coming this way.

If Jimin and Yeji haven’t spotted them yet, they will do within the next couple of seconds, and Minjeong’s too preoccupied by that concern that she almost doesn’t notice Ryujin shifting closer.

If not for Ryujin’s ambiguous statement of “I just want to see for myself,” then Minjeong wouldn’t have immediately noticed Ryujin slipping a hand around her waist, pulling Minjeong into her side, and kissing her cheek once, twice.

“Hey, it’s Minjeong!”

Yeji’s the one who recognises her, and she almost has to drag Jimin over by the hand until they’re stood before Minjeong and Ryujin.

Jimin’s gaze finds Ryujin immediately and her stern expression hardens when her eyes drop to the hand curled around Minjeong’s hip. Ryujin takes notice, and holds Minjeong’s waist tighter in response.

Yeji and Ryujin do most of the talking, Minjeong stays silently mostly, trying to figure out why Jimin’s glaring at Ryujin like she wants her dead.

Jimin makes a quick departure only seconds after Ryujin kisses the remaining ice cream off of Minjeong’s cheek, leading Yeji away starkly whilst the girl tries to make polite goodbyes.

Ryujin waits until the pair is out of sight before she moves away from Minjeong.

“I think you and your ‘friend’ need to have a talk.”

They don’t talk about it, of course.

Jimin’s far too non-confrontational to ever bring it up, and Minjeong doesn’t either, because she doesn’t want to come across as presumptive, and she certainly doesn’t want to start what could potentially descend into an argument.

Yizhuo’s observant, and knows something’s up with them, but Minjeong avoids her questions when Yizhuo attempts to probe for the truth.

Minjeong’s not even totally sure what the truth is.

She and Ryujin aren’t in a relationship, (they’re in that weird half-place, where they know they like each other, but it’s just not convenient to be with one another), but nonetheless Minjeong’s never been in anything near a relationship in the whole almost three years since her friendship with Jimin began, and so, who knows? Maybe Jimin is one of those friends that becomes protective when their best friend enters a new ‘relationship’.

Minjeong’s never had one of those friends before, but it’s not out of the question, and it’s easier to accept that as the truth than to assume other, more potentially damaging explanations for Jimin’s behaviour.

“Did you hear about Chaewon and Yunjin?”

Minjeong mutes the television at Jimin’s question, turning her attention to the girl as she takes the seat next to Minjeong.

“What about them?”

Jimin smiles widely, rolling her eyes a little, “They finally got together. It took Yizhuo locking them in a bathroom until they confessed, but at least they actually admitted their feelings,” Jimin laughs, “it took them long enough – I mean, how oblivious do you have to be to not notice your friend’s in love with you?”

Minjeong just kind of stares at her, because seriously?!

All she can do is laugh it off, because if she doesn’t laugh, then she’ll probably scream.

Maybe she just has to accept and learn to live with this new phase in her friendship with Jimin.

A phase in which Jimin turns cold when Ryujin is mentioned, and in which there was an almost kiss which they like to pretend never nearly happened.

Minjeong has to accept it as the new stage in their friendship, because if she assumes it to be anything more, then she’s only setting herself up for heartbreak, surely.

There’s no way Jimin loves her too.

There can’t be.

Chaewon and Yunjin walk besides her, hands linked between them, and, wow, if there were ever a reminder of how pathetic Minjeong’s life is, that’s it.

“So, you’ll be there, right?”

Minjeong seriously needs to learn to listen when her friends are talking, and she glances at the pair with thinly veiled confusion, “Huh?”

Chaewon tuts, but Yunjin fills in the blanks without agitation, “My birthday party next week. We’ve booked out that bar Yizhuo likes – not by choice – but still, you’ll come won’t you?”

Minjeong nods definitely, “Of course.”

There’s a pause, in which Chaewon looks like she wants to say something but is approaching it with caution, “You know … she’ll be there with Yeji, right? She’s Yunjin’s friend – we had to invite her.”

Minjeong hadn’t thought about it, but it’s unsurprising.

She appreciates Yunjin and Chaewon’s concern for her nonetheless, “It’s your party, Yunjin, don’t worry about me. Besides, they’ve been together for, what, six months or so now? I know how to handle being in the same room as them.”

Yunjin leans over to peck her cheek because, well, she’s Yunjin, and she’s pretty much the sweetest human alive.

Further fulfilling this title, Yunjin looks to Chaewon and gushes cutely, “This is gonna be my first birthday where I can call you my girlfriend.”

Chaewon blushes bright red, and Minjeong gags on her takeaway coffee.

“Hey, have you seen Jimin?” Yunjin pouts whilst Chaewon fixes the party hat on her head, “she’s gonna miss me blowing out the candles.”

The trio all look to Minjeong, who shrugs, having not seen Jimin for a couple of days.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried, because Jimin’s never the sort to turn up late to an event like this, not without good reason and not without prior notification.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Yizhuo asks quietly to Minjeong, pulling at the party hat’s string which clings to her chin.

Minjeong nods, because Jimin’s always okay, and gestures for Yizhuo to drop the subject because Yunjin’s pout appears to increase by the second.

Yunjin waits another fifteen minutes for Jimin, but the cake is starting to fall apart (Yizhuo had been in charge of baking) and some of the guests are starting to get restless, so they go on without her.

It’s another half an hour before Jimin enters quietly, smoothing down her black dress, clutching a neatly-wrapped gift in one hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jimin mumbles apologetically, handing the present over to a delighted Yunjin; Minjeong’s concern only deepens, because Jimin doesn’t look right and her bloodshot eyes reveal she’s been crying, “Yeji and I broke up.”

Four sets of jaws drop at Jimin’s calmly delivered explanation, and the girl only politely nods to them before turning on her heel and walking away briskly.

Minjeong’s in mild shock. When did they break up? How? Why ? 

She’s only stirred from her astonishment when Yizhuo roughly elbows her in the back, “Go after her, dumbass.”

Minjeong looks round at the trio, who all nod eagerly, “What? Why me?”

Yizhuo huffs, shoving her forwards in the direction Jimin left, “Because you’re her best friend, remember?”

Minjeong quickly nods, putting her drink aside. She’s been letting Jimin down as a friend for far too long, and it’s time she stepped up.

She rushes through the crowd and heads for the exit. She eventually finds Jimin in the alleyway next to the bar, leaning against the brick wall, hugging her arms around herself.

Jimin sees Minjeong approaching and tries to turn to walk in the opposite direction, but Minjeong latches onto her arm quickly, using the leverage to pull the girl into a tight hug.

“What happened?” Minjeong asks gently, running a hand soothingly through Jimin’s hair.

It takes a minute for Jimin to respond, and when she does, Minjeong feels white hot rage burn through her, “She was seeing someone else, w-when we got together. She had some girlfriend from Jeonju,” Jimin pulls away to wipe at her tears when fresh ones fall, “Yeji broke up with her a month or so after she and I starting seeing each other, b-but still. She lied, and she kept that from me this whole time, and I just … What else could she be lying to me about?”

Minjeong’s surprised to find that Yeji’s mistakes don’t make her happy, it makes her livid. Livid that the one person Jimin entrusted her heart to broke it.

In Minjeong’s opinion, there is nothing, not a single thing, in this universe more precious than Jimin’s heart, and Hwang Yeji didn’t even have the decency to protect it. That’s simply unforgivable.

“I’m sorry,” Minjeong sighs, for lack of better words, and uses the pads of her thumbs to brush away the few tears which linger on Jimin’s cheeks, “she’s an idiot, a complete and utter idiot. If you want, I can send Yizhuo to go and kill her and make it look like an accident?”

Jimin lets out a watery chuckle, and it makes Minjeong feel like she’s doing at least something right.

Minjeong frowns a little as she catches a whiff of alcohol – it’s not strong, but it’s there – and she wonders whether Jimin dropped by a different bar first before making her way here.

“Are you and Ryujin dating?”

“Huh?” Minjeong almost gets whiplash from the sudden new direction the conversation takes, because they’re meant to be talking about Jimin’s broken heart and she’s not sure how her own relationship status comes into play, “uh, no, we’re not. Not really.”

Jimin studies her for a second, nodding slowly, “Good.”

Minjeong feels like she’s totally lost, trying desperately to keep up with whatever conversation Jimin’s trying to have, “Why’s that good?”

Jimin shrugs, looking down rather than at Minjeong herself, “I just don’t think she’s your type.”

“And how would you know what my type is?”

Minjeong’s about to let out a laugh, but then Jimin’s gaze locks onto her lips and they’re a lot closer than Minjeong had realized, and the laughter dies in her throat.

“Don’t know,” Jimin mumbles as though becoming increasingly distracted by something, perhaps her own thoughts, Minjeong can’t be sure, “just guessed.”

Jimin takes a step closer, and Minjeong immediately takes an equal step back, because that’s a dangerous move and she’s not nearly as sober as she had been in the music shop.

“Minjeong …” Jimin’s hand reaches out, initially cupping Minjeong’s cheek, but then it shifts, her fingers somewhat intentionally tracing along the curve of her cheek before moving to gently brush against her lips, and warning alarms are going off throughout Minjeong’s mind, telling her to put a stop to this.

But she’s rooted to the spot and Minjeong lets Jimin touch her, lets Jimin’s fingers study her, struggling to breathe when Jimin brushes some hair behind her ear.

Minjeong hopes Yizhuo or Chaewon or someone strong comes looking for them, because she feels like she’s becoming weaker by the second, especially when Jimin lowly utters, more to herself than to Minjeong, “Why couldn’t it have been you?”

And Minjeong thinks she knows what that means, but a part of her doesn’t want to know what that means.

Jimin lets her hand fall, and it loosely finds Minjeong’s; Jimin intertwines their fingers and holds their hands together between them, inching closer until their foreheads meet.

Jimin’s eyes close, and Minjeong feels her eyelids drooping involuntarily, instinctively, from her love’s proximity.

She hates how it feels like Jimin leaves her completely and utterly without self-control, but she tries to resist nonetheless, because she’ll never be able to look at herself again if she gives in and didn’t do anything to stop it.

“Stop.” Minjeong begs, because if this happens she won’t know how to cope.

“Minjeong,” Jimin whispers against her lips, and Minjeong’s resolve breaks with every syllable, “ please .”

Her resilience snaps entirely.

She lets it happen because, well, Minjeong’s never been able to deny Jimin of anything.

She loves Jimin, but she hates herself almost as much, so she says hell to the consequences, threads her fingers through Jimin’s hair, and closes the gap between them. She kisses Jimin with a sense of urgency, as though the moment will slip away from her if she doesn’t grab it with both hands.

Jimin, who Minjeong had believed to be all delicacy and gentleness, responds with equal if not increasing fervor, and she shoves Minjeong back against the brick wall with a thump.

Minjeong gets dizzier by the second, trying to keep up as a demanding tongue presses against her own, and desperate nails claw at her hips.

She doesn’t know if she loves Yoo Jimin right now or if she hates her, but either way she lets Jimin’s lips and hands abuse her, and Minjeong surrenders herself completely.

She wakes up alone – the only reminder that last night actually happened being the bruises and scratches that litter her exposed skin.

Minjeong smiles, because at some point last night, somewhere between wrapping her legs around Jimin’s waist and dragging her nails down Jimin’s back, she’d said it.

She’d finally said what she’s been bottling up for almost three years now.

“I love you .”

Minjeong can’t remember whether Jimin said it back or not, but Jimin had fucked her at least four times last night and that’s got to mean something .

Except, Jimin isn’t here.

Minjeong doesn’t let paranoia get the best of her, or at least, she pretends like she doesn’t, and calmly pulls on some clothes.

She finds Jimin’s black dress carelessly draped over a lampshade, and so she carefully retrieves it, and puts it on a hanger.

As she makes her way out of her bedroom, padding gently across the hall, she deposits the dress by hanging it on Jimin’s door handle, before making her way to the kitchen.

She finds Yizhuo sat at the counter, sipping at a cup of coffee with one hand, playing some addictive mobile game with the other.

“Morning.” Minjeong mumbles, absently fixing her hair and searching the room for Jimin.

“Oh my God,” Yizhuo’s mocking voice greets her as the girl turns her attention away from her phone, “so it’s true.”

Minjeong meets Yizhuo’s gaze, stretching her aching muscles, and frowns, “What’s true?”

“You and Jimin hooked up last night, didn’t you?” Yizhuo accuses, continuing before Minjeong can confirm nor deny it, “I saw her coming out of your room a little while ago, looking about as royally fucked as you look right now.”

Minjeong doesn’t even have the energy to lie to Yizhuo or to even act coy, and so she tiredly nods as she takes a seat opposite, “Where is she?”

Yizhuo shrugs without concern, “She said she’d be back in a bit, I hope she’s getting us breakfast, because I’m starving and you look like you need it,” Yizhuo puts her coffee aside, focusing her attention fully on Minjeong, “so are you two like … a thing now?”

Minjeong doesn’t want to leap to conclusions, but she can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips, “I don’t know … Maybe?”

“No, there’s no ambiguity to screwing each other’s brains out – you’ve got to be a thing,” Yizhuo says assuredly, without a trace of doubt, “you’ve gotta be,” Yizhuo slides her coffee across the countertop to Minjeong, a proud and uncharacteristic smile on her lips, “for the record, I’m really happy for you.”

Minjeong allows herself to smile, because she’s really happy too.

Jimin returns about an hour later, accompanied by a bag of warm bagels, simultaneously confirming Yizhuo’s beliefs and easing Minjeong’s worries. Jimin looks at ease, relaxed even, as she tosses the bag to Yizhuo.

“God, finally – I almost starved to death.” Yizhuo groans, biting into a bagel without hesitation.

“You’re welcome,” Jimin says sarcastically but without a hint of malice, “oh, and I’ve got good news.”

Minjeong sits up a little straighter in her seat, wondering if she should let Jimin know that Yizhuo is already aware of what transpired between them, or whether she should just let Jimin get on with her announcement nonetheless.

She decides to let Jimin get on with it, because Minjeong’s dying to hear Jimin confirm whatever they are now with her own two lips.

“Yeji and I are back together.”

Strangely enough, it’s Yizhuo who breaks the silence – or at least, her replacement coffee mug does, as she drops it and the ceramic cup shatters loudly upon impact with the ground.

Jimin jumps back in shock and Minjeong can barely move, can barely breathe, because Jimin’s broken her heart many times before, but this … this is too much.

This isn’t just breaking a heart; this is destroying it, crippling it, and smashing it to smithereens.

“You what ?”

Yizhuo seems to have absorbed all Minjeong’s anger, because all Minjeong feels is numb.

Jimin stutters, utterly stunned as she steps away from the coffee that pools between their feet, “Yizhuo … your mug …”

“I don’t give a damn about my mug,” Yizhuo snaps, and Minjeong feels like she should intervene, because this isn’t Yizhuo’s battle, but she can’t make herself speak, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

Yizhuo stands abruptly, appearing to not care that she is now standing in her coffee and amongst shards of ceramic, “You can’t spend the night with Minjeong and then waltz back in here saying you’ve got back together with your girlfriend without giving her a damn bit of warning, without even giving a crap about how she feels! What the fuck ? How dare you!”

Jimin is frozen, like a deer in the headlights because whilst Yizhuo’s been scary before, never have either of them seen her like this. Jimin’s mouth hangs open, like she’s trying to grapple for the right words, and she looks between Yizhuo and Minjeong, perhaps unsure of who to address.

Minjeong stares down at the countertop, unable to look Jimin in the eye just yet.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jimin finally manages to stammer out, “M-Minjeong, I’m sorry, I-I thought you wouldn’t care.”

“ Wouldn’t care ?!”

Okay, now Minjeong really needs to step in before Yizhuo says something she shouldn’t.

“Yizhuo, don’t –”

But she’s not quick enough.

“Of course she cares , Jimin, she’s fucking in love with you!”

Ryujin doesn’t look surprised to see her.

“Yizhuo called ahead; she kinda assumed you’d end up here.”

Minjeong just lets Ryujin lead her inside, exhausted because she’d spent the five hour taxi ride (the next airplane wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow and Minjeong needed to escape immediately ) filled with dread and anxiety and fear and self-loathing and anger, which had resulted in her crying for at least three of the hours, and totally freaking out her poor taxi driver.

“Where’s all your stuff?” Ryujin frowns, as she guides Minjeong to take a seat on the couch.

So maybe fleeing across the country without a single item of luggage isn’t Minjeong’s best idea ever, but it’s safe to say she’d left in a hurry.

In the tense silence that had followed that revelation, Minjeong’s options had been fight or flight – stay, and explain herself, or run and don’t look back.

The second Jimin had turned to her, eyes filled with questions and confusion, Minjeong had chosen to run, only managing to grab her shoes and her purse on her way out.

At Minjeong’s lack of response, Ryujin adds, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get Yuna and Hyunjin to bring you some spare clothes, whatever you need,” Ryujin sits beside her, wrapping an arm around Minjeong’s shoulder, bringing her into a side-hug, “you can stay here for as long as you need.”

It’s only at this point that Minjeong realizes she left her phone behind, but it’s probably for the best, she considers. At least she doesn’t have to be aware of whether Jimin’s ignoring her or not.

“ Are they looking after you over there?”

Minjeong smiles almost ruefully, “I don’t need looking after.”

Yizhuo huffs, “ Humor me.”

Somehow, probably via Chaewon, Yizhuo has gotten hold of Ryujin’s phone number, and had been hassling the older girl until she eventually put Minjeong on the phone (or at least, until Minjeong felt bad for Ryujin, and took the phone into her owns hands of her own accord).

“Yeah, they’re okay I guess,” Minjeong sneers a little at Ryujin who pouts in response, clearing the table after dinner, “could be worse.”

Yizhuo sighs, “ I’m really sorry, Minjeong. I was just so mad – I didn’t mean to tell her.”

“I know,” truthfully, she’d only spent one day of what is so far a week long absence being angry with Yizhuo, because she knows Yizhuo was just acting out of protectiveness, “it’s okay.”

“ When are you coming back?”

Minjeong hesitates, because at the moment she’s not totally sure she can ever face Jimin again, at the very least, not any time soon.

Suddenly, there’s a scuffle on the line, and Minjeong freezes when a new voice speaks.

“ Minjeong? Minjeong, it’s me. Please don’t hang up .”

For one of the first times in her life, Minjeong doesn’t do what Jimin asks.

“What kind of cake do you like best?”

Minjeong raises an eyebrow at Ryujin’s question as the girl jostles her awake.

“What?” She groggily replies.

“Well, do you like chocolate or cheesecake or chocolate cheesecake or … I can’t think of any other kinds, but Heejin’s a diverse chef, she can do anything.” Ryujin attempts to explain, but it still leaves Minjeong confused nonetheless.

“Why are we talking about cake?”

Ryujin rolls her eyes dramatically, “It’s your birthday this weekend, dummy, and we’re throwing you a party.”

Minjeong rubs her eyes awake and sits up at this point. How did Ryujin remember her birthday when it had completely slipped Minjeong’s mind?

“You don’t have to do anything; I’m really not that bothered.” Minjeong assures the girl, but Ryujin stays resolute.

“I’m sorry but you have no say in the matter – the only thing you get to choose is the flavor of your cake, so choose.”

Minjeong feels warmth spread through her chest because she feels like she’s totally intruded on this group’s lives, especially Ryujin’s, but all they ever do is welcome her warmly and treat her like they’ve known her forever.

She smiles, and gives in, “Chocolate sounds good.”

“Yizhuo couldn’t get the day off work, but she says she’ll be here in time for the party tomorrow.” Chaewon explains as she folds one of Minjeong’s shirts and neatly places it in a drawer – she and Yunjin had arrived a day early with a suitcase of Minjeong’s clothes in tow.

“We really miss you, Minjeong.” Yunjin pouts, trying to fold a shirt neatly, but failing spectacularly, so Chaewon gently prises it from her girlfriend’s hands to fix it.

“Yeah, I miss you guys too,” Minjeong admits, she’s silent for a moment, having been relegated aside and away from the clothes folding by Chaewon, before she gains the courage to ask, “How’s Jimin?”

There’s a pause in which Chaewon and Yunjin share a look, and Minjeong’s not an expert, but she can safely infer that it’s ‘not good’.

“We’ve not really seen her,” Yunjin confesses, bumping shoulders with Minjeong slightly, “Yizhuo told us what happened between you two, and we’re both kinda upset about it, so we’ve not really been speaking to her. Chaewon said we’re taking a ‘strand’.”

“A ‘stand’.” Chaewon corrects, and Yunjin nods quickly.

“Yeah, that.”

Minjeong sighs deeply because, whilst she appreciates their loyalty, and whilst she’s still hurting, what she wants less is for Jimin to feel alone.

“You guys don’t have to do that, she’s your friend too.”

Chaewon stays quiet, preoccupying herself fully with the clothes, whilst Yunjin just pouts sadly, resting her head on Minjeong’s shoulder.

“You can’t stay here forever,” Yizhuo tells her, handing Minjeong a beer as she joins her out on the back porch.

Minjeong shrugs, “Why not?”

“You can’t leave your whole life behind just because Jimin knows you’re in love with her,” Yizhuo narrows her eyes, “that’s not fair, and it’s a copout, and you know it.”

“Maybe it has nothing to do with Jimin,” Minjeong challenges, “maybe I just happen to like it here.”

“No,” Yizhuo corrects, “you just find things easy here. You’ve got a ready-made group of young friends who look up to you and cater to what you want, and you’ve got a girl who likes you, who is just waiting for you to stop loving your best friend and to fall for her instead.”

Minjeong takes a long sip of her beer, hating how, once again, Yizhuo is clearly right.

“I’m not saying that this isn’t what you need for the moment, because right now I can’t think of anywhere you should be more, but eventually you’ll have to come back and face reality – face her ,” Yizhuo exhales heavily, eyes following the sunset, “this is tearing her apart too, y’know? You’ll have to talk soon, or else you’ll never be able to.”

Ryujin interrupts, dragging them both back inside to where Minjeong has the cake decorated with twenty-one candles presented on the table, and a room full of people who love her sing Happy Birthday to their hearts’ content.

When she blows out the candles, and gets told to “make a wish,” she wishes to forgive Jimin.

But in her heart she knows, there’s nothing to be forgiven.

This isn’t a blame game, one person’s fault over another’s. It’s a fatal case of circumstance, missed opportunities, and bad timing.

It just feels easier to blame Jimin.

She should’ve known Yunjin would be the first to break.

Minjeong’s too caught up in the terrible drama Chaewon and Minjeong are watching to notice the doorbell ringing, until Heejin’s voice calls out to her from the kitchen, (where Ryujin and Heejin are preparing snacks, and Hyunjin is stealing said prepared snacks).

“Minjeong, that’ll be the pizza, can you get it?”

She grabs her purse and heads for the door, laughing to herself when she hears Heejin scolding Hyunjin for ordering pizza when they’re already making snacks.

“But snacks aren’t a meal!”

“You just had dinner like an hour ago!”

“Come on, Heejin, you know I need at least three dinners every night or else I get hungry and can’t sleep!”

Minjeong cranks open the door, still chuckling to herself at the ongoing conversation, so much so that it takes her a minute to realize that that isn’t the delivery man .

“Minjeong ... I found you …”

She grips the door handle so tightly her knuckles turn white, frozen in place.

At Minjeong’s silence, Jimin awkwardly admits, “I kinda forced the address out of Yunjin. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t handle not seeing you.”

Minjeong swallows thickly, before shakily uttering, “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Ryujin makes an appearance at that moment, almost sensing something’s wrong, and the second she sees Jimin, Ryujin storms forward, “Get lost, she doesn’t want to see you.”

Ryujin moves to shut the door, and Jimin quickly holds out her arms, trying to stop it without getting her fingers slammed in the door, “Wait, Minjeong, please!”

Just as Ryujin’s about to shove the door shut, Minjeong gently touches Ryujin’s arm, stopping her in her tracks, Yizhuo’s words running through her mind.

It’s better now than never.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Minjeong shrugs, tossing a seashell back into the ocean, “Never, probably.”

“Minjeong …” Jimin shakes her head sadly, seemingly unable to say much else, “if I’d known, I would’ve done things differently; I wouldn’t have hurt you like that.”

Jimin reaches out and stops Minjeong from throwing another shell, and Minjeong pulls her hand away from Jimin’s, “If you’d known, we wouldn’t have been able to be friends.”

Jimin furrows her brow, “Wouldn’t we?”

“If you’d known back then, we’d still end up where we are now,” Minjeong reasons almost bitterly.

Jimin sighs, reaching out for Minjeong’s hand once more, and this time she holds onto it, squeezing it tightly, “I do love you, Minjeong, you know I do, it’s just …”

Minjeong places her other hand over their joint hands, “It’s just not the same, I know.”

“I got you a birthday present,” Jimin says after a moment, retrieving an item from her jacket pocket with her free hand, “I bought it ages ago, during the last time you came down here, actually. And, it’s not much, but …”

Jimin presents her with a watch, a beautiful, traditional style watch with a leather strap, “You kept saying you needed ‘time’, so …” Minjeong smiles stupidly, because only Jimin would take that and come up with a watch, “I realise now that it’s kinda dumb, but –”

“No,” Minjeong interrupts her gently, taking the watch into her own hands, “it’s not, I like it.”

Jimin eyes her doubtfully, “It’s okay if you don’t, I can get something else –”

“I like it,” Minjeong insists, attaching it around her wrist, “see? It fits perfectly.”

Jimin huffs a laugh, “Well that’s what you’d expect from an adjustable strap.”

They become silent after that, whilst Minjeong admires her gift, and Jimin watches her admiring it.

“I’m really sorry, Minjeong,” Jimin says after a moment, continuing before Minjeong can interrupt her again, “for that night, I took advantage of you, and that was wrong of me. Whether you loved me or not, I used you, and that’s not okay.”

Minjeong shrugs, still staring down at her watch instead of at Jimin, “We both did it, I’m as much to blame as you are.”

“No,” Jimin tells her firmly, but softly, “you’re not.”

Minjeong doesn’t want to go over that night again, because she already feels her throat tightening just at the thought of it, so asks,

“So what now?”

Jimin chews her lip for a moment, before replying, “I still want us to be friends, Minjeong, I don’t want to lose you, but, I don’t want to keep hurting you either.”

Minjeong sniffs back tears and bumps their shoulders together, “Hey, you’re not that much hot stuff. I’ll live with it, and then I’ll get over you.”

“Minjeong …”

“I will,” she assures her, “it’ll be okay. And fine, even if I don’t, even if my foolish heart loves you forever, I still won’t leave you, I’ll still support you in everything you do – even if that includes marrying that idiot Hwang Yeji, because we’re best friends, and no matter how I feel, that won’t change.”

Jimin wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close, dropping a kiss to Minjeong’s hairline, “I love you, Kim Minjeong.”

Minjeong rests her head on Jimin’s shoulder, and wraps her arm around the girl’s waist, “Yeah, I love you too, Yoo Jimin.”

They sit in a comfortable silence after that, watching the tide come in, washing the angst and the bitterness away.

They stay like that until the sun sets and the breeze comes in.

Yes, sometimes it hurts to be with Jimin.

But it’ll always, always hurt more to be without her.

Besides, by now, Minjeong’s used to the pain.