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“I wrote letters to you after you moved away, did I ever tell you?”
Min looks up from where she’s nestled into Diya’s chest, frowning. “I never got any.”
She feels Diya laugh against her, hears that beautiful tinkling sound reach her ears and yeah, this was worth sneaking out at 10pm for, being able to see Diya’s shining eyes and smile on demand.
“That’s my bad,” Diya says. “I wrote the addresses wrong ‘cause I couldn’t ask my parents for help. I just sent them all to Florida.”
Min sniggers. “Just Florida?”
“Yup. It just said “Dear Min-Seo, she lives in Florida and looks like this” on the front. And I drew little pictures of you.”
“That’s really cute.”
“Yeah. I still have them somewhere in the attic. They all got sent back ‘cause if USPS can’t deliver something it gets returned to the sender. I just assumed that Florida was too far away to send a letter.”
“Show me sometime,” Min says, ducking back down.
“Looking for bugs?” Diya teases, one hand rising to cradle the back of Min’s head.
“Shut up.”
Diya does, and just watches for a moment as Min’s black hair flops about as she burrows somehow deeper.
“Don’t actually shut up,” Min says after about half a minute, causing Diya to breathe out a laugh in her ear.
“What do you wanna talk about then?”
“I dunno,” Min mutters into the thin fabric of Diya’s sleep-shirt. “I just like when you talk.”
Diya thinks for a moment. “Greyhounds run up to 44 miles per hour.”
“That’s the dog with ribs, right?”
“All dogs have ribs. But yeah, they’re prominent on greyhounds.”
“Cool.”
“You tell me a fact now.”
Min huffs, bringing one of her legs to wrap around Diya’s waist so she’s clinging like a koala. “I don’t know stuff like you and Noelle. All my fun facts are about knives ‘n shit.”
“I’ll still listen.”
“Well, once I was flipping my balisong and I got a cut in the shape of a smaller balisong.”
“Can I see?”
“It’s pretty faded by now, but sure. Hit the light?”
Diya rolls and hits her desk lamp with her super long arms, wow, and a soft yellow glow falls over them.
“It’s here,” Min says, pointing to a cluster of tiny white lines on the back of her hand, between her thumb and index.
Indeed, they make a three-pointed star which, at a stretch, could be said to resemble a butterfly knife.
Diya leans down to press a kiss to it. “All better now,” she says.
“Thanks, babe, but it was healed already,” Min replies with a soft smile reserved for one (1) person.
“Now it’s double healed.”
Min furrows her brows for a moment as a rush of ideas hit her simultaneously. Suddenly, she slaps herself in the face.
“Min! What the heck!” Diya whisper shouts at her, face mixed between shock and laughter.
“I hurt my lip real bad,” Min says with a smirk that makes her look like she’s not in any pain whatsoever. “You gotta kiss it better now.”
Diya leans forward with an exasperated sigh, and obliges her impulsive, chaotic, perfect girlfriend. She pulls back slightly to murmur against Min’s lips. “You could have just asked, y’know. I’d kiss you anyway.”
Min just kisses harder, nipping at Diya’s bottom lip in a way she knows leaves her speechless. “This was more fun.”
“Everything’s fun with you,” Diya mumbles.
“I know,” Min gloats. “I’m awesome.”
“You are.”
Min’s head snaps up again. “Huh? I was kidding.”
“I wasn’t. You are awesome. You’re so brave. And determined. And you’re really- you’re really-“
Diya takes a deep breath as her face flushes. Min places a soothing hand on her shoulder.
“You’re really romantic.”
“I am?” Min can feel her own face comforting to display the confusion she feels at that statement. She didn’t know she was romantic. She’s not like those guys in movies who like, run after the planes and stuff. She’s smarter than that. She’d be hiding in the luggage hold.
Diya raises a single eyebrow. “Babe. You climbed in through my window tonight. You kiss my hand every morning. You’ve literally bought me flowers every weekend for the past two years.”
“That’s not romantic. That’s just cause it’s you.”
“What?”
“You’re Diya. Anyone would do those things for you. You’re perfect.”
Diya flushes further, and wraps her arms around Min’s chest, pulling her ever-closer. “That’s a romantic thing to say,” she whispers, all soft-like.
Min rapidly taps her hand against Diya’s back, and her voice is muffled. “I love you but I’m being suffocated by your boobs.”
“Oh, right!” Diya relaxes her arms, allowing Min to resurface with a dramatic gasp.
“What a way to go!”
“Shut up, you,” Diya says with a grin.
“I’ll shut you up, alright,” Min murmurs, rolling on top of Diya, straddling her hips so she can kiss her while also fumbling blindly with a free hand to turn the lamp off.
With Min’s lips on hers, Min’s waist under her hands, Diya is shut up indeed.
The “Get out of bed before your girlfriend’s mum finds you” alarm goes off at 6:30, as it always does, and Min groans sleepily as Diya immediately snoozes it with a practised hand.
They fell asleep in that straddled position, Min acting as a weighted blanket/ backwards backpack/ chest goblin the full night.
Diya splays her hand on Min’s warm back, having slipped it under shirt sometime in the night. She pats twice affectionately. “Are you ready for our ten minutes of cuddling?”
Min nods eagerly, tucking her head into Diya’s shoulder and pressing a series of kisses down the column of her neck.
“Stoooop,” Diya whines, and Min grins at the smile in her tone. “You caaaan’t. I get so flustered when you do that.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Min pauses to lick at the light bruise she’s left a few inches below Diya’s collarbone, low down enough that her baseball shirt will hide it. “That’s the point.”
Diya whines a little.
They’ve just beat the Killer Whales again, 4 to 0. Even Noelle is in a good mood, good enough that she doesn’t immediately drag Diya to their next lesson and instead walks off with Akarsha at a fairly standard pace, leaving her and Min to chat with the boys. Or rather, Min to chat and Diya to listen.
“It’s crazy,” some guy says, a voice Diya doesn’t recognise. “They’re like baseball soulmates. I couldn’t catch that ball if I had a fishing net.”
“Min learnt to throw knuckleball in like fourth grade. She’s unbeatable.” That’s Jun’s voice, and Diya swells with pride. Min’s knuckleball is unbeatable for everyone else. But she knew that one day, she would find her again, Min promised, so even when she left, Diya practised for so many hours.
She’d caught tens of thousands of balls in preparation for Min’s throw, and god, had it paid off. Every time that ball sails past the batter and lands firmly in her mitt, she’s filled with so much unadulterated joy, gratitude, and pride that she thinks she would spend the rest of her life catching Min’s balls.
“How am I even meant to hit them? I can’t predict where it’s going!” The unknown voice again.
“The best way to catch Min’s ball is to wait until it’s stopped rolling, and then go pick it up.” Jun speaks sarcastically, but Diya can hear his smile.
Min seems to hear it as well, from the way she tilts her chin up with a smirk as she walks over.
She’s adorable, Diya thinks.
“Need any help?”
Currently, Diya is trying to figure out how to carry eight baseball bats at once, along with a bucket of balls. The weight isn’t the problem, she could lift all this and Min with one hand. The problem is balance.
“No, I’m fine,” she says, managing to lean the tower of bats on her chest so that her other arm is free for the bucket.
Min whistles appreciatively as she stands up, carrying the team’s equipment single handedly. “Damn right you are.”
Diya can practically feel the individual blood cells as they climb to her face. “Thanks.”
They head back to the locker room together.
“What’s your next class?”
“Biology,” Diya responds. “Noelle and Akarsha have been arguing over the best way to display a dissected flower. Akarsha keeps trying to make it a stick man and put the stamen as his dick. You?”
“Free periods till two-thirty.”
With no hands free to grab Min’s, Diya instead bumps their hips together to show her affection. “Wanna walk home together?”
“Sure,” Min says casually, but Diya sees the way her steps are bouncier and smile wider.
20 minutes later, Diya’s back is pressed against the wall and Min’s mouth is moving against hers, and hers is moving back, and she feels so hot she thinks she might have a fever and that can be her explanation for why she’s now eight minutes late for biology.
Min’s hands slip under her shirt to caress her waist, and she leans into it, leans into those warm hands and that warm mouth, feels herself hum contentedly.
“You like that?” Min murmurs against her lips, sending a pleasant feeling through her.
Diya nods frantically.
“Good.”
“Oh my god!”
“FUCK THE FUCK OFF NOELLE GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”
“My eyes are closed, my eyes are closed! The biology teacher sent me to find Diya!”
“I’m here, I’m coming!”
“So…” Noelle refuses to make eye contact with her as she is escorted back to biology. “What were you two doing?”
“We were just kissing.” It’s true, technically. They were just kissing.
“I’ve never seen anyone kiss with so many hands.”
Okay, maybe not just kissing. Diya feels herself flush. “Just on my waist ‘n stuff.”
“Your waist is not your mouth, ergo it was not just kissing.”
Diya rolls her eyes. “You always win on technicalities.”
“Being technically correct is the best kind of correct,” Noelle says as she waits for Diya to open the heavy fire door between the courtyard and the science block.
“According to Akarsha you’re technically French.”
“Akarsha doesn’t understand the meaning of the word.”
“What, the word technically or the word French?”
“No, just… Any given word.”
Diya chuckles, holding the door. Still cooling down from her escapades with Min, she’s actually quite distracted from the anxiety of having to explain tardiness to her teacher.
The same way Min had “cooled down” since they got together, she likes to think she’s “warmed up” a little.
They balance each other out.
They’re good for each other.
Min sits in the locker room, hair messy, face flushed, mouth slightly agape.
Wow.
Diya’s great.