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Jeon Wonwoo parks her car in front of Soonyoung’s apartment building at exactly nine thirty a.m., not even one minute later. Soonyoung and her grandmother have been stationed by the entrance for the past five minutes, swaddled in their winter coats and surrounded by her two full suitcases and the cardboard box that contains her most precious possessions—her SHINee album collection, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap, and the manhwas she’d rather die than leave at home on the off chance that her mom would find them on the box she has kept beneath her bed for the past couple years. Soonyoung’s pretty sure she forgot to pack something, but her grandmother had started nagging at her to finish packing and hurry up, Soonyoung-ah, you should have done this yesterday as soon as the clock hit nine and she was still in her pajamas.
Wonwoo gets out of the car and walks towards them, bowing in greeting as soon as she’s within talking range. “Good morning, ajumoni, Soonyoung-ssi. Do you need help with the bags?” Wow. Her voice is deep. Soonyoung swallows dry.
“Ah, Wonwoo-yah, always so polite,” her grandmother answers, reaching forward to pinch Wonwoo’s cheek. Wonwoo just lets her, and doesn’t even make a face about it, even if her skin is definitely a little red when she’s released. “You don’t have to worry, Soonyoungie can carry her bags, right?”
“What? Oh, yeah, don’t worry,” Soonyoung says, mind stuck somewhere between still thinking about Wonwoo’s voice and how high and nice her cheekbones are. Her grandmother fixes her a glare that is probably meant to say ‘be polite, this girl is an angel and you must treat her so’ or whatever.
Wonwoo helps her with her things anyway, holding the car door open while Soonyoung shoves her suitcases in the backseat, and carrying the box over, carefully placing it on the floor upon Soonyoung’s request. “Is that all?” Wonwoo asks after they’re done, shutting the door and turning to Soonyoung.
“Oh, yeah. Thank you for the help, Wonwoo-ssi.”
Wonwoo shoves her glasses up with the tip of her finger, shrugging in between. “Are you ready to go, then?”
“Yeah. Let’s just, um, say bye.” Soonyoung says. She waits for Wonwoo to exchange a few words with her grandmother, something about calling and driving safe and good luck, and once Wonwoo’s done and already back inside the car, she runs to her grandmother, wrapping her arms around her. “Bye, halmeoni. I’ll call you and eomma when I get there, alright? Thank you so much.”
Her grandma hugs her back, then steps back and holds her face between her hands, squishing it the way she used to back when Soonyoung was a chubby kid with full cheeks. “Be good, Soonyoung-ah, and be safe.” She waits until Soonyoung nods to tap her cheek twice and let her go. “And be good to Wonwoo-yah!” she adds after Soonyoung has already turned around.
Soonyoung slides into the passenger seat and carefully shuts the door, all too aware of how well-taken care of Wonwoo’s car is. It’s warm inside, a nice reprieve from the throes of winter outside, and Soonyoung immediately wiggles out of her coat, laying it on her lap. Wonwoo’s already discarded her coat as well, and like this, Soonyoung can see the black turtleneck she’s wearing, how tight it is around her arms and chest.
Wonwoo clears her throat and Soonyoung jumps, raising her eyes to meet Wonwoo’s own like a deer caught in the headlights. She really needs to pull herself together. “Put on your seatbelt, please.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Soonyoung says, rushing to pull the seatbelt over her chest. Honestly speaking, she’s not really used to using it, to her mother’s utmost despair, but they’re taking the road and she’s not going to disagree with Jeon Wonwoo on this.
Wonwoo turns on the ignition and the engine purrs to life. The GPS lights up and Wonwoo reaches over to change locations on it, probably adjusting the destination from ‘Kwon Soonyoung’s House’ to ‘The Unknown Land of Seoul’, or something like that. “It should take us around five hours from here to Seoul, but I was thinking we stop for lunch, so we’ll probably get there at around four.”
“Alright,” Soonyoung answers, squirming on the seat in search of a comfortable position that doesn’t involve putting her shoes on any surface that isn’t the floor.
Soonyoung’s not that familiar with Jeon Wonwoo, despite the fact that they went to the same high school. In the past three years, she’s talked to her maybe once, seen her around the school hallways and once in the ramen aisle of the 7/11 next to school. That’s to say, they’re not even acquaintances. Soonyoung’s grandmother, however, is somehow very close friends with Wonwoo’s own grandmother, which is how they found themselves in this predicament: it had been more or less decided that Soonyoung would be taking the train to Seoul, with her mom unable to drive her there because of work and her older sister’s absence of a driver’s license, when, one week ago, her grandma called the house with excellent news about how the granddaughter of Yunah from church is going to med school at SNU, and she’s moving to Seoul next week, and Soonyoung can go with her, isn’t that great. So here Soonyoung is, in Jeon Wonwoo’s passenger seat, moving three hundred and fifty eight kilometers across the country for college.
Wonwoo has just driven them past the city limit when Soonyoung decides she’s had enough of silence. She really won’t make it out of this trip if she can’t listen to something or open her mouth occasionally. So she sneaks a glance to Wonwoo, who’s staring resolutely at the road, and clears her throat. “Wonwoo-ssi, would you mind if I put on some music?”
“Be my guest,” says Wonwoo, gesturing to the center console. “You can plug your phone in, if you want. Do you have a cable?”
“Oh, yeah, thank you so much.” Soonyoung reaches into the backpack she’s carrying with her and digs around until she finds her USB cable. She opens Melon and scrolls through her downloaded playlists, “Um. Are girl groups okay?”
“Whatever you want, really,” Wonwoo shrugs.
Soonyoung clicks on the playlist titled ‘Bring The Girls Out \(★ω★)/‘ and presses play; Sonyeo Sidae’s ‘Oh!’ starts blasting through the speakers. Wonwoo doesn’t really strike her as the type of person who enjoys girl groups, but she definitely doesn’t look like she listens to boy groups at all, so Soonyoung can probably say goodbye to SHINee for the next few hours.
“We can talk comfortably,” Wonwoo says in the brief pause between one song and the other. “We’re the same age. There’s no need for formal speech.”
“Ahhh, okay then!” Soonyoung exclaims, turning to the side so she can look at Wonwoo. “What route are we taking, Wonwoo-yah?” She asks, making it a point to enunciate each syllable carefully.
The corner of Wonwoo’s lip rises in a smile. “77.” Then, after a beat. “Soonyoung-ah.”
Soonyoung spends the first hour of the trip alternating between staring out the window, humming to the songs blasting through the speakers (now playing ‘Kim Hyuna I Love You’), and staring at Wonwoo.
She’s never taken the road out of Gyeongsangnam-do, so the scenery is all news to her. It’s not like there’s much on the highway other than cars and trees on the side, but the greenery—or lack thereof—changes slightly with every city they pass through and it’s fascinating to watch that happen.
Doing that does grow boring eventually, and her neck starts to hurt from being tilted to one side for too long, which is why she turns her head and looks at Wonwoo. Objectively, Soonyoung has always known Wonwoo is hot—she’s a lesbian and, apart from that, she has a set of working eyes. It would be impossible to spend three years in the same building as Jeon Wonwoo and not be aware of how gorgeous she is. But looking at Wonwoo now, with her dark hair up in a ponytail, hands firm on the steering wheel, Soonyoung’a growing more and more aware of the fact that Wonwoo’s not just hot, she’s fucking handsome. Like, love interest in one of Soonyoung’s secret BL manhwa stash handsome.
“Do I have something on my face?” Wonwoo suddenly asks, sounding amused. Her voice is so fucking deep it’s crazy. Soonyoung jumps a little in her seat.
“What?! No, no, I’m just… looking,” Soonyoung answers lamely.
“Like what you see, then?” Wonwoo turns her head to her, raising an eyebrow.
Soonyoung gulps down. Is Wonwoo flirting? Is that a thing that’s happening? Does Jeon Wonwoo even like girls? “Of course. Wonwoo-yah is very pretty.” She goes for aegyo deflection. It always works with Chan. Thinking about him makes her heart clench a little. “Are you going to miss Changwon?”
If Wonwoo is at all surprised by the suddenness of the question, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she fixes her eyes back on the road and tilts her head to the side, like she’s considering it. “I think I’m going to miss my family. My younger brother especially. I don’t think I’ll miss the city itself. I never really fit in there.”
“Really?” Soonyoung asks, surprised. How can top-of-the-class, going-to-SNU-med-school Jeon Wonwoo not fit in anywhere, with her well-trimmed bangs and neat clothes?
“Yeah,” Wonwoo breathes out, sneaking a glance at Soonyoung. “There are so many things I want to do in Seoul. It’s a breath of fresh air, you know what I mean?”
“Are you even going to have time to do anything other than study? You’re going to med school.”
“Well,” Wonwoo chuckles. Her laughter is melodious, filling the air between them and easing it up. Soonyoung didn’t know someone as apparently quiet as Wonwoo could laugh like that. “You’ ve got a point. But what about you, then? Are you going to miss Changwon?”
“Yeah,” Soonyoung says. She twists her body so her back’s against the door, fully turned towards Wonwoo. The seat digs uncomfortably against her chin. “I’m gonna miss my family too, especially my grandma, I think. I have an older sister, but she’s already graduated college, so we don’t see each other that much.” Wonwoo hums, indicating that she’s listening, and Soonyoung takes that as a signal to keep talking. “I’ll also miss Channie. He was kind of like my protege at the dance club. He’ll be captain this year.”
“Is he the short one that performed that duo with you in the showcase?”
“Oh,” Soonyoung breathes out. “You watched our performance?”
“I’ve attended all your performances since first year,” says Wonwoo, simply, like she’s not actively pulling the carpet out from under Soonyoung’s feet. What do you mean, she spent three years with only glimpses from Jeon Wonwoo, while Wonwoo was busy watching her dance performances? “You’re a very good dancer. You’re going to school for it, right? Grandma told me.”
Soonyoung just keeps staring at Wonwoo, mouth hanging open. If the windows were open, a fly would have probably already flown down her throat. Wonwoo turns her head, raising her eyebrows at her. “Oh, yeah. KARTS, can you believe it? I don’t even know how I got in.”
“As I mentioned, you’re a very good dancer,” Wonwoo points out. She flicks her eyes to the road then back to Soonyoung again. “I think you’ll achieve whatever you want.”
“Thanks,” says Soonyoung, a little bashful. She knows she’s good, she has a scholarship, for God’s sake, but for some reason, hearing Wonwoo tell her that outright makes warmth creep up to her neck. She says it like it’s as simple as that—Soonyoung is good, so she got in. She’s good, so she’ll make it. “That, um, means a lot to me. Your recognition, I mean.”
“I’m just stating the obvious,” says Wonwoo. Soonyoung doesn’t know how to explain that that’s exactly what she's grateful for—the fact that Wonwoo considers it obvious. So she doesn’t say anything else, just hums and leans her head on the window.
Soonyoung’s never been privy to this sort of straightforward, matter of fact support. No one’s ever looked at her and said: You’re capable of whatever you want. It still feels like an arrow piercing through her heart whenever she thinks about how, after years of dance competitions and late night practices, ditching cram school for dance club rehearsals, suffering through blisters and sprains, her mom still didn’t expect her to choose dance as her future. She still remembers her exact words: of course you’re good, Soonyoungie, but is that enough? Even her grandmother only came around the idea after the practical exam and the scholarship.
But here Jeon Wonwoo is, half a stranger to her, and unwavering in her conviction of the merit in Soonyoung’s choices.
They cross into Jeonbuk to the sound of Kim Taeyeon’s high notes blasting through the speakers. ‘As High As Lee Chan’s Ego (≧▽≦)’ is now playing. Wonwoo turns to her when the song ends, eyebrows raised. “You never striked me as the sort of person who’s insane over girl groups.”
“I’m not, actually.”
“This is the third playlist in a row you’ve played where all the songs are, in fact, from girl groups.”
“The last playlist had Hyuna solos! She’s not a group!” Soonyoung protests. It’s just for show, but it’s funny. Wonwoo just stares at her with a deadpan expression. “But really, I’m not. The only group I’m insane over is SHINee. That entire box back there,” she gestures to the backseat, “is filled to the brim with their merch.”
“Why haven’t you played any of their songs, then?”
“Well, I didn’t peg you as the type of person who’d enjoy listening to boy groups for five hours straight! And I have no fucking idea what type of music you even like, so I just played it safe! Everyone likes SNSD!” The words tumble out of Soonyoung’s mouth, a tangled mess. She doesn’t even know why she’s overjustifying herself.
“Alright,” Wonwoo says agreeably. “You can play your Shinee songs, I don’t mind.”
Seriously, what is it with Jeon Wonwoo and just saying the kind of things Soonyoung dreams of? First dance, now SHINee. Next thing you know, she’s going run her hands through her hair, crowd Soonyoung in, and whisper into her ear about how she’s going to absolutely ravage her. That one is a line taken straight out of her favorite character’s mouth. She doesn’t say anything in return, but when the next song comes to an end, she scrolls to the top and clicks on her favorite SHINee playlist (‘Shining Shiny Five Stars ☆▽☆’).
They go through a few tunnels, take a few sharp turns. This part of the road is a little crowded, so their driving speed starts dropping down little by little. Eventually, they come to a stop, sandwiched between two cars. Wonwoo takes her hands out of the steering wheel and stretches them, the cracking of her bones so loud even Soonyoung can hear it.
“I like slow songs,” Wonwoo says out of nowhere.
“What?” Soonyoung asks, distracted. She was in the middle of silently ‘noonan-neomu-yeppeo’-ing.
“You said you didn’t know what type of music I like,” Wonwoo explains, shifting in her seat so she’s looking at Soonyoung. “I like slow songs, ballads. Japanese ones, mostly.”
“Like, romancey ones?”
“I guess so,” Wonwoo answers, and Soonyoung’s not sure if she’s imagining the timidness in her voice. “I think they’re nice to listen to.”
“Wow. I never would have seen that coming.” Wonwoo looks a little affronted after Soonyoung says it, so she rushes to amend, “I don’t mean it like that! I just thought you’d be more, like, I don’t know. Preppy? You’re going to med school at Seoul National, don’t look at me like that!”
“I guess I can see where you’re coming from,” Wonwoo sighs. She runs a hand through her hair, and her bangs fall perfectly into place after. Soonyoung would kill for hair like that—unfortunately, she fries it with bleach every two months. It’s no wonder it can’t grow past her chin. “I couldn’t be further away from that, actually.”
“Oh?”
“I spend all my free time alternating between going to the PC bang next to my house and reading manga online. Last year, I had to download a software that would block reading websites on my computer so I could focus on studying for Suneung.”
“Ohhh?” Soonyoung perks up on her seat. This really couldn’t be further from what she imagined. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, gaming and manga addict. Wow. “Whatcha like to read? Anything I would know?”
“That depends on how familiar you are with yuri,” Wonwoo says.
“What, like GL?”
Wonwoo nods. Wow. Soonyoung was expecting something more like Naruto or One Piece; those are the ones Chan was always yapping about during their breaks. He probably has zero knowledge about GL, though. His interests are more aligned in other areas—Soonyoung knows that because the two of them have spent quite some time exchanging manhwa recs.
“Yeah, I’m not actually that familiar,” says Soonyoung, shrugging. How does one go about telling the really hot probably-a-lesbian-or-maybe-not girl who’s driving you across the country that you spend your days reading ABO BL? Her secrets will stay buried between her and Aeju-ssaem. “My tastes lean… the other direction.”
Wonwoo gives her a look. “Are you seriously telling me that you waste your time reading Boys Love?”
“You read GL! Who even are you to judge me!”
“Yeah, and I’m a huge lesbian, so I have an excuse,” Wonwoo says. Well, that’s one question answered. She’s looking at Soonyoung expectantly, as if waiting for her to say something about her reveal. Well, good for her, but Soonyoung is a little preoccupied with trying to defend her pride right now.
“So am I! Everyone knows that!” That’s true. Then again, it’s not like she and Wonwoo ever went out for boba together, so maybe she shouldn’t be grouped in with everyone. She was probably in the other set of people, alongside Soonyoung’s grandma and her mom, although she’s sure she has her suspicions. Anyway. “I bet if you read Love Shuttle, your world would change forever. Don’t shittalk before you’ve tried it, seriously.”
Wonwoo stares at her like she’s considering throwing Soonyoung out of her car and leaving her alone in the snow. This particular expression eerily resembles the one Jeonghan unnie had thrown at her when Soonyoung told her she’d lost her first kiss to Kang Minhee. “I will literally never, ever, read a single page of whatever that is.”
“Bet.”
“—and it has really good take on ABO dynamics, you know, especially with how Doyun—”
“I surrender,” says Wonwoo, fifty minutes and a couple counties later, as she pulls over and parks the car in front of the restaurant they’d looked up ten minutes ago. “Just send me the webtoon link.”
“But I don’t have you on Ka-Talk,” Soonyoung pouts. She was really having fun telling Wonwoo all about Doyun and Taehan.
“Gimme your phone, then,” Wonwoo says, putting out her hand. Soonyoung rolls her eyes, but she unlocks her phone and clicks on Kakao, then gives it to Wonwoo, who gracefully doesn’t comment on how cracked the screen is. She types and clicks away, then gives Soonyoung her phone back, wonungie’s profile on display. “There.”
“Cool,” Soonyoung mumbles. She shoves her phone back into her pocket and unbuckles her seatbelt. It’s a thousand times colder outside, and she swears she can feel the tip of her nose turn red. She shrugs on her coat and zips it all the way up, and then tightens the strings around her neck until the hood’s all snug against her head.
When Wonwoo circles the car, she lets out a giggle, breath fogging in front of her. Her nose scrunches up when she laughs; it’s very cute. “You look like a black sesame tteok.”
Soonyoung can’t even jab back at Wonwoo. She’s let her hair out of her ponytail, and the length falls down to her shoulders, safe from the winds under a beanie. She’s got her white padded coat back on, and, once again, she’s looking like a Rich Love Interest. “Whatever,” she grumbles, “let’s go in, please.”
Wonwoo chuckles once again, but she starts walking towards the restaurant. Soonyoung trails behind. It’s surprisingly packed inside, and the auntie by the door leads the two of them to a table right next to the kitchen. Soonyoung can smell garlic and kimchi, and her heart pangs. That’s the kind of smell that always reminds you of your mom, no matter what.
The auntie comes back with a bottle of boricha and a menu, and Wonwoo immediately pours Soonyoung a cup. “Thank you,” she says, taking a sip. “What are we going to order?”
“I saw online that they’re famous for their maeun muguk,” Wonwoo says, taking a look at the menu. “Do you like spicy food?”
The most spice Soonyoung can handle is kimchi, but she’s not about to tell Wonwoo that. “I like it enough, I guess.”
“You sure?” Wonwoo raises a brow. Soonyoung just places their order without answering. Of course she’s sure if she’s saying it (even though she absolutely isn’t)! Wonwoo just rolls her eyes.
Wonwoo pulls her beanie off, running a hand through her hair. It’s choppier than it looked like in the ponytail, and it frames her face prettily. Everything about Wonwoo is just so perfect. She’s like a lesbian Jesus or something. She’s gotta be hiding some deep dark secret—maybe she’s a perv. That’s always an option. But even then, that’s not really a turn off for Soonyoung.
Wonwoo does look like she could have some tendencies. All the quiet ones do, really. “Have you ever kissed someone?” Soonyoung asks right as the auntie plops down their banchan on the table.
“What’s wrong with you,” Wonwoo hisses at her, eyeing the auntie, who does not seem to care in the slightest and just turns away. Soonyoung blinks her eyes cutely, munching on a piece of radish. Wonwoo sighs, “of course I have. Have you?”
“Of course I have!” Soonyoung echoes, affronted. “I’ll let you know that I kissed Kang Minhee in the first year of high school. I have experience, Wonwoo-yah.”
“Really?”
“I do!” Soonyoung insists. “I bet I’m better than you at that kind of stuff.”
“Really?” Wonwoo asks again, a smirk on her face this time. “Would you like to test it out?”
“Yeah I fucking would, waitwhat—” Soonyoung stutters over her answer as the words fully register on her mind. This is definitely flirting. Like, textbook. What is she even supposed to do now? Her two romantic experiences involve Kang Minhee (three kisses under the bleachers) and a sunbae she went out with once! She was fucking lying and toying with Wonwoo, who’s apparently some sort of smug depraved devil.
Soonyoung’s saved from having to conjure an answer by the arrival of their soup. She eyes Wonwoo meekly as she picks up the ladle and pours soup into Soonyoung’s bowl. “Thank you,” she mutters after Wonwoo passes it to her.
She waits until Wonwoo takes a sip of her own bowl to dig in. She eyes the bowl warily—it doesn’t look that red. She dips her spoon into the soup and brings it to her lips. It doesn’t actually feel that spicy until she’s munching on some brisket after three spoonfuls of broth. The tell-tale tingle starts from her throat, and, after that, it’s game over. Her eyes start watering and she splutters, covering her mouth with her hand so nothing flies out.
“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, sounding a little desperate. She shoves napkins and Soonyoung’s cup of tea towards her.
“Spicy,” Soonyoung croaks out after draining her cup of every single drop. Wonwoo pours her more immediately.
“You said you liked spice!” Wonwoo accuses.
“I lied!”
“You love kimchi!”
“It’s more tangy than spicy, really,” Soonyoung mutters, digging her spoon into the rice bowl and then bringing it to her mouth. “I have a really low spice tolerance.”
“This has so much chili,” Wonwoo despairs. “Why on earth would you lie and eat something you don’t like? Next thing you know, I’ll get a call from your grandma saying I tried to kill you!”
“I didn’t want to seem lame…” Soonyoung mutters. She’s looking anywhere but Wonwoo.
“Why would that be lame?” Wonwoo exclaims. There’s a pause, followed by a sigh. “You don’t have to worry about that sort of thing, you know. I don’t even know why that’s a concern for you.”
“What do you mean?” Soonyoung asks. She raises her eyes from her rice bowl, finally looking at Wonwoo, who’s already staring at her, expression tinged with traces of something Soonyoung can’t identify.
“Seeming lame,” says Wonwoo. She pushes her glasses up with the tip of her finger, biting the inside of her cheek. “I’ve always thought you were so cool.”
Soonyoung’s mouth drops open. “Really? But we didn’t even really know each other!”
“Ah,” Wonwoo breathes out, tearing her gaze away from Soonyoung’s. “That’s true. But you’re a very noticeable person. I don’t think anyone could ever exist at the same time as you and not look at you.”
“Oh,” Soonyoung whispers, stomach doing somersaults. She feels a blush creeping up her neck. No one’s ever said something like this to her. “Do you still think that? Now that you know me more, I mean.”
“I think you’re even cooler,” Wonwoo states, looking back at Soonyoung. It might be a trick of light, but her cheeks have a blush to them that wasn’t there before. They keep staring at each other, unblinking, and time seems to suspend itself. A dish clatters in the kitchen, breaking their reverie. Wonwoo clears her throat, “um. Do you want to order something else?”
“There’s really no need,” says Soonyoung, shaking her head. Her stomach still feels like butterflies. “I can eat the steamed veggies. I’m sorry…”
“There’s no need for that between us,” Wonwoo says with an air of finality.
She orders galbitang for Soonyoung anyway, and when they go to pay, she whips out her card and insists on paying by herself, even though they didn’t even end up sharing their food.
Wow. Jeon Wonwoo is so fucking cool. Soonyoung wants to tell her that as well.
“That’s why I went to the showcases,” Wonwoo says conversationally somewhere around Pyeongtaek.
“What?” Soonyoung asks, distracted. She’s been staring out the window and wondering about who all the girls Wonwoo kissed are for the past thirty minutes. She briefly considered texting Jeonghan and asking if she knew anything, but that would only end up in endless teasing for her, so all she’s left with is her imagination.
“I went to the performances because of you,” Wonwoo explains. When Soonyoung looks at her, she’s got her eyes fixed on the road. “I walked past one of the club's rehearsals and your hair caught my eyes, so I stayed for the whole song. And I thought you were the best dancer I’d ever seen, so I wanted to watch more. See more of you, I mean.”
“Oh.” Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say in response to that. This might top Confession of Undying Love and Horniness in her list of things she would like to hear. It reminds her of what Chan said when he joined—how he’d watched her dance in the same competition as him, and wanted to join the same club as her.
But this time, it’s not coming from teeny tiny Lee Chan. It’s Jeon Wonwoo saying it, Jeon Wonwoo who doesn’t know anything about dance and didn’t even really talk to Soonyoung until today. Jeon Wonwoo who went to all their showcases for three years because of Soonyoung.
Onew’s high note rings in the silence between them. Suddenly, Soonyoung feels warm all over.
“Sorry if that was too much,” Wonwoo says after it’s been too long without an answer. Her hands are gripping the steering wheel, veins popping out.
“No, no,” Soonyoung rushes to assure her. “It’s just… I wish we’d talked during school. I didn’t even really know you, and. I feel bad.”
“Don’t,” Wonwoo says. Then, “but it would have been nice if we were close back then, I think.”
“It would,” Soonyoung agrees wistfully. Girls Girls Girls by SHINee starts playing. “We can do it now, if you want. I want.”
“You have me on Ka-Talk,” Wonwoo points out by means of an answer. Soonyoung’s going to take that as a yes. “I’m going to a soccer game next week. You can come with me, if you want. I’ll buy the tickets.” Yeah, that’s definitely a yes.
“Are you secretly a chaebol heir?” Soonyoung asks. “First you bought me lunch, now this…”
“Maybe I am,” Wonwoo retorts, and Soonyoung can hear her smirk. The corners of her lips lift in a smile of her own.
Somewhere in the past few hours, Soonyoung went from not knowing Jeon Wonwoo at all to wanting to climb her like a tree. God, she’ll be eternally grateful for her grandmother’s friendship with Yunah from church.
“I’ll go to your soccer game,” she says. “But I don’t know anything about that.” Truthfully, she didn’t even think that’s the sort of thing Wonwoo of all people would be into. She’s full of surprises. “You’ll have to teach me.”
“That’s alright. I’ll text you about it, then.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Soonyoung daydreams a lot. Always has, ever since she was a little kid staying at her grandma’s every afternoon while her mom was at work, she used to spend hours in the grass outside, pretending she was a princess being saved from the castle. As she grew up, her fantasies started shifting—from being the defenseless princess to being the charming prince, from being a black belt to winning first place in dance competitions, from wanting to be friends with Choi Jungha to wanting to kiss her under the blankets.
She spent most of her high school years dreaming about the future, scribbling on her journal during classes and imagining her life as an adult during dance practices. College in Seoul, going to clubs and meeting people like her, maybe moving to the US, like Jeonghan’s ex-girlfriend, and becoming a choreographer.
Now, staring at Wonwoo’s hands firm on the steering wheel as she drives them into Incheon, her want takes on a different shape. Soccer games, bike rides along the Han river, Wonwoo’s hands holding her waist with the same certainty they grip the steering wheel of her car. Wonwoo watching her onstage, under the spotlight. Soonyoung swallows dry.
She’s no stranger to desire—it haunts her like a ghost, a looming presence over her, dripping down onto everything she is, everything she does and pursues and sees. Soonyoung is hungry, for recognition, for success, for love. Her mom used to tell her to be careful, not get too greedy; take care of her soul and heart. But Soonyoung so strongly wants to show herself to the world, and swallow down everything it has to offer her in return.
Now that she’s gotten a taste of it, she wants to know everything Wonwoo has to offer. Maybe Wonwoo’s going to let her.
“You good over there?” Wonwoo asks suddenly. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”
Soonyoung blinks, shaking herself out of her mind. Wonwoo’s looking at her, biting her lower lip. “Yeah, yeah. I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Just… stuff, I guess,” Soonyoung shrugs. It’s not like she can just tell Wonwoo she was thinking about swallowing her whole. “Life. How it’s going to change, what I want to do. What I want, in general.”
Wonwoo hums like she understands it. She’s quiet for a while, the air between them filled with the sound of IU’s voice and the cars outside. “I never thought much about the future. It used to make me so anxious, because I didn’t know what I wanted. And everybody else looked like they had it all figured out.”
Soonyoung can’t imagine what that’s like. She’s spent her entire life thinking about the future, trying to understand the enormity of her own desires. The two of them couldn’t be more different, but maybe that’s the thrill of it. “Do you think you know now? What you want?”
“I think I’m starting to,” Wonwoo says, looking at her. They’re surrounded by cars and miles and miles of road, but Soonyoung can only stare at how golden Wonwoo’s skin is under the fading light of the sun. “I’m going to med school because I didn’t particularly want anything, so I just went with what’s going to give me stability. But I don’t think I’m going to hate it, and that’s a start. Seoul is also a start, a change. Maybe I can finally start figuring it all out as well.”
“That’s nice, Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung says warmly. She hopes Wonwoo achieves all she wants in life, whatever that ends up being. She also hopes she’s part of it, but that’s not the point. “You can start slow. It’s not a race.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo says in the softest tone Soonyoung’s heard from her. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are the things you want?”
“Everything,” Soonyoung tells her honestly. “I want everything possible. I want to be the best dancer on earth, and I want people to recognize me and my talent, and I want love and happiness and fun and just. Everything.”
“You’ll get it all,” says Wonwoo. Like she’s got no doubt about it. “You’ll get everything you want.”
“You really think so?”
“I’m certain,” she states, and there’s not a single flicker of doubt in her eyes. “I think if anyone can have it all, that someone’s you.”
Soonyoung feels like she is going to burst, like her chest is so impossibly full of something so overwhelming she can’t even name. It shouldn’t mean this much, but Wonwoo’s not only acceptance, but approval of the enormity of her desires makes her feel like there’s lightning inside her body. “Thank you,” she croaks out.
Wonwoo just smiles at her. She takes one hand out of the steering wheel and squeezes Soonyoung’s thigh. Soonyoung feels the warmth of her skin even through the layers of her pants, and she burns.
They get to Seoul a little later than predicted, after being stuck in traffic for a whole hour. The sun’s already setting, and the sky is entirely tinged with tones of pink. It feels like the city’s welcoming them.
Wonwoo insists on driving Soonyoung all the way to campus, even if it’s on the other side of the city and it means she’ll have to drive all the way back to get to her flat. Such a gentleman. Maybe Wonwoo’s the prince Soonyoung used to dream about as a kid. She certainly fits the part. One part of her brain tells her she’s just a BL addict and this is not a manhwa, while the other argues that she’s just got a thing for hot, masculine women who are this kind and nice. Truth be told, both things are true.
She’s a simple woman, really.
When Wonwoo parks in front of the dormitories, Soonyoung’s reluctant to open her door. Her phone’s still connected to the car, and Jonghyun’s voice echoes in the silence, Y Si Fuera Ella on full blast. They’ve been together for the entire day, and still, Soonyoung doesn’t want to go away. She doesn’t want this to end.
“Do you need help getting your stuff up?” Wonwoo asks, turning off the car. The music stops.
“I don’t think you can go in,” says Soonyoung, finally unplugging her phone and shoving her cable into her backpack. “But thanks for offering. Thanks for everything, really. Driving me here, lunch, putting up with my blabbering…”
“I told you there’s no need for that,” Wonwoo says firmly. Soonyoung raises her eyes, and Wonwoo has such a warm expression on her face. “I liked listening to you. Even if you have awful reading tendencies.”
Soonyoung laughs, and her chest feels less heavy. “I already told you to not knock it until you’ve tried it!”
“And I already told you to send me the link to this god forsaken webtoon,” Wonwoo rolls her eyes, but she’s also smiling. Soonyoung feels herself blushing. Wonwoo’s smile is so pretty.
Eventually, Soonyoung does have to get out of the car, and Wonwoo helps her take her things out of the backseat even after Soonyoung told her it was fine. She even carries everything to the entrance of the building. Once they’re both standing in front of the doors, Soonyoung looks up to Wonwoo, only to find her already looking down at her.
“Thank you once again, Wonwoo-yah.” Wonwoo opens her mouth to protest, but Soonyoung goes on, “I know what you said, but I want to say it. Just take it this time.”
“Alright,” Wonwoo acquiesces. “Do you need anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” Soonyoung says. She bites her lip, reluctant to finally put an end to this. “I’ll get going, then.”
“Okay. Um. Good night,” Wonwoo offers, sounding a little unsure. She hesitates, like she’s unsure of what to do, before she brings her hand up and squeezes Soonyoung’s shoulder. “You should rest, you must be tired.”
“Tired of what?! You’re the one who should rest, you drove the entire day,” Soonyoung laughs. “Tell me when you get home?”
“Alright,” Wonwoo nods, before squeezing her shoulder again and walking off to her car. Soonyoung waits until she’s inside to grab her things and haul them inside the building one by one. Wonwoo’s car stays parked until Soonyoung’s inside, and only then does she drive away.
Soonyoung watches her go with a smile on her face.
Two days later, while Soonyoung’s lounging in bed and procrastinating getting ready for orientation, her phone pings with a notification. When she checks it, her heart immediately starts hammering in her chest.
It’s Wonwoo. They haven’t talked since Soonyoung texted her the link to Love Shuttle. She was honestly thinking she’d scared Wonwoo off.
wonungie
▸ Photo
Got your ticket. The game’s on Saturday. Do you still want to come?
kwonsooon
thought u were never gonna ask kekeke
ofc i want to
wonungie
Of course I was going to ask.
I was just waiting to buy them.
I have wanted to ask you out since first year.
kwonsooon
WHAT
JEON WONWOO
WHAT DO YOU MEAN
COME BACK HERE
Yeah, Soonyoung’s definitely going to climb her like a tree.