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Chapter Text

December. The month that carried none other than pure meaning. The time of reuniting with loved ones and the long-awaited period of setting aside textbooks in favor of sinking into a pile of blankets. With crackling fire and softness of fleece enveloping people as they looked at snow-capped peaks through frost-painted windows. 

Yoohyeon associates it with the taste of coffee branded on her tongue and the outline of her pen embedded in her fingers as she grips it a bit too tight.

As the most festive time of the year approaches everyone with its heartwarming treats, Yoohyeon only recognizes the looming sense of inevitable doom hanging above their head at all times. Thus, with fingers on the keyboard and mind buried in the intricacies of their assigned reading, the magical days passed as Yoohyeon withered behind the laptop.

“One big cup of coffee for one big nerd,” the words almost fly over Yoohyeon’s head, she barely manages to grasp the edge of them.

“Huh?” 

The barista has her head tilted, making her blonde ponytail shine against the black strap of her apron. “Your attention span terrifies me,”

Yoohyeon huffs at their friend and brushes the bangs out of their eyes. They had grown almost to the top of their eyelids and Yoohyeon has once again forgotten the hair clip.

“You should get those cut,” Handong remarks, flicking a strand of Yoohyeon’s hair directly into the middle of her forehead, “I’m going to the salon soon if you want to join,”

“Again? Hasn’t your scalp been through enough?”

Handong rolls her eyes, “It’s invincible and you know it,” she says, flipping the ponytail onto her back. She is right. No matter how religiously she douses it with chemicals, Handong’s hair always remains effortlessly silky, “Drink your coffee or I’ll kick you out for hogging my tables.”

With that, she walks away to the counter without a single word. Yoohyeon smiles after her, not taking the threat to heart at all.

Maybe, just maybe in a different reality, they would have believed her. But Yoohyeon has spent more than enough time at Cafe Somnia to know that they welcome everyone at all times. 

Handong catches her smile and sends a mock-disdained face back, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

With newfound energy and a heart significantly warmer amongst the freezing weather of the year’s end, Yoohyeon turns to her keyboard. She resumed her frantic typing that made the letters come to life and form a coherent essay in a flurry of words.

In actuality, their fingertips remain glued to letters without putting any pressure on them. 

Because as much as Yoohyeon has already painted the general thesis in their head, the words refused to put themselves onto paper and cooperate with them to craft a magnificent picture of literary analysis. 

She might have read the entirety of the book before the deadline. Even made pages of notes. Still, Yoohyeon could not for the life of her make out any statements akin to a steady word flow onto the paper. The copy of the book lies next to her laptop on the table, mocking her with the glaring crimson painted across the cover.

Fuck.

Yoohyeon stretches their hands above their head, almost groaning when a pop rings in the depths of their joints. This constant stagnation on that chair is going to eventually lead to a complete disintegration of their skeleton that seems to weaken with every passing day.

Rolling her head to soothe the stiff muscles the way Bora showed her, Yoohyeon’s eyes wander around the room. After hours of torturing her eyes with blue light, even the walls appear utterly fascinating.

Pondering on the newest painting adorning the decor (probably courtesy of Handong or Bora), Yoohyeon glances around the all too familiar room. Her second home on campus. The refuge. Filled with the smooth sound of records, the clinging of mugs, and the omnipresent scent of beverages.

Yoohyeon rubs their sore shoulder and turns to the counter, hoping to catch their friend’s eye. 

But Dong isn’t watching.

Understandably, being in her place of work means that her attention remains occupied by different tasks to complete. Whether it’s pressing the powdered coffee grounds or meticulously preparing a drink for another customer, Dong navigates the space with infinite grace.

Only she can make an apron look like an evening gown.

Now, standing in front of the wooden counter is a girl. A student probably. They flock to the cafe that has earned a reputation as a safe space for desperate, sleep-deprived young adults.

Yoohyeon cannot blame them. They were one of them after all, drawn by the warmth in Minji’s smile all those months ago.

She smiles at the memory. Remembers the focus with which she approached the task of ordering iced tea from a stunning barista with kind eyes and striking red hair. Can almost again feel the heat on her cheeks when she forgot to take the beverage with her, leaving a dumbstruck Minji with a gracious “thank you” and a glass full of peach tea. 

Yoohyeon avoided the place for days after this. Bora needed to force them to walk her to their shared dorm room and all but pushed her to talk to Minji, claiming there was no way she remembered the encounter.

But Minji did remember.

Smiling from ear to ear, she turned towards the other counter, giving Yoohyeon a great view of her toned back (an event they have replayed in their mind many times afterward) and placed a chilled glass of tea in front of them.

“You didn’t get to drink it last time,” she smiled.

Before Yoohyeon could shortcircuit, Bora exploded into her boisterous laughter at their frozen expression. That was how Yoohyeon discovered that the drop-dead gorgeous barista was her roommate’s best friend in the entire world. And that the little gremlin has been listening to her rambling about the puppy crush for a while before connecting the dots and arranging this meeting.

The infatuation fizzled out over time, Minji’s flaming hair blossomed into soft pink, and Yoohyeon’s involvement in their lives remained strong to this day.

They smile softly as they glance at Handong again and then furrow their eyebrows at the unusual scene.

While Dong always greets customers with charm and a glint in her eyes, she seems perfectly in tune with that person. Yoohyeon noticed the ghost of a smile that appeared only in special circumstances lingering on Dong’s lips.

Not her customer service smile. A real one.

Unable to take a proper look at the customer, Yoohyeon resumes her intense staring contest with the empty document. She has things to do. The words continue to reject any kind of cooperation with her and do not manifest themselves on the blank page.

“You will regret that,” Dong’s voice rings ominously through the air, effectively ripping Yoohyeon away from her thought process. 

The barista’s hands rest idly on the counter contrary to the words. Then again, one can never state with full certainty what is going on in Dong’s head. She currently looks like a cat debating whether to pounce or not.

Could that girl have threatened her? She appears harmless at first glance but so do bees that hide sharp stings under their fluffy stripes. 

Is Yoohyeon about to witness a bar fight? Or a coffee shop fight? Can she be of assistance? No, better leave the physical stuff to Dong and call the cops while she fights for her life. Maybe she can save the painting though, it looks pretty.

“Bring it on,” the threatening mystery of a person challenges and reaches her hand for a wicked, dangerously looking-

Cup of coffee?

“You’ll hate it, I’m calling it,” Handong states smugly, leaning on her elbow.

“No, I’m an adult,” the girl insists stubbornly, grumbling like a small child.

Okay, maybe no punches are going to be exchanged.

With the danger not on the horizon anymore, Yoohyeon begrudgingly skims through their notes yet again. The essay awaits. 

They barely get halfway through the first page of highlighted bullet points when a piercing shriek rings through the entire coffee shop.

Murder?!

Whipping around on their chair and almost falling out of it, Yoohyeon stares at the scene in front of them with widened eyes.

The girl does not appear harmed in any way despite what her features suggest. Circular glasses hide tightly shut eyes that match scrunched nose and pursed lips perfectly. She’s biting on a straw and furrowing her brows.

“It sucks!” she complains and put it away, glaring at the cup with the utmost offense.

With dark eyes now open and glistening, Yoohyeon can properly take in the offended customer’s appearance.

And oh, is there a lot to take in.

If a zip-up hoodie and a backpack chock-full of books were any indicators, the girl is a student. Freshman probably, judging by the refreshing atmosphere of uncrushed dreams surrounding her. 

But over the casual attire, Yoohyeon’s eyes fixate on the distinct shade of her hair, brought up by the deep hue of the clothing. The platinum blonde shines with a silvery sheen and a glimpse of washed-out purple under the warm lights. Similar to Yoohyeon’s own gray, but a bit more vibrant, leaning towards pastels instead of silver.

Utterly mesmerized, Yoohyeon gazes at the customer as she berates a very amused Dong.

“Way too bitter!” she repeats loudly with no regard for any potential customers. Or actually, a sole literature student who did not mind in the slightest.

“It’s a black coffee,” Dong responds with her eyebrow raised, “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know!” the girl huffs, “For the ice to combat the bitterness?”

“Ice has no flavor.”

“Then why do you always eat it?!”

“Cause I’m not a wimp.”

Yoohyeon observed as the young girl stuck out her bottom lip and puffed her cheeks. The taste of black americano still probably lingering on her tongue.

To her complete surprise, Dong grabs the almost-full cup and places it on the other side of the counter. They must be pretty close. After seeing Dong deal with all sorts of demanding customers, Yoohyeon did not expect her to relent so quickly.

“There, there,” Dong pats the girl on the head, earning a yelp of protest as the platinum bun sways dangerously.

Adorable.

“Now I have nothing to drink for class,” she whines with a pout that makes Yoohyeon want to give her the world.

She might have acquired a tiny bit of a crush-at-first-sight. Possibly.

Definitely.

“I can make you a different one,” Handong suggests.

The girl shakes her head, “I don’t have much time. It’s okay, iced americanos and I are not meant to be I guess,”

Yoohyeon’s heart pangs when the cute student’s face falls slightly. They can definitely relate to powering through a boring lecture without any liquid comfort in the form of a sugary, caffeinated drink. 

A brown coat gets thrown onto the blue hoodie, followed by a backpack. Yoohyeon can’t help but notice multiple pins scattered across the front pocket. They cannot see any details aside from a pastel flurry of colors, but the sight is enough to make them smile.

As Dong and her friend exchange goodbyes, Yoohyeon’s mind gallops rapidly with a speed that could put light to shame. 

With tongue twisted and brain clouded by gay haze, it would be the smartest not to speak at all.

Yoohyeon’s vocal cords rebel.

“Wanna have me? Mine! Coffee. Mine,” she blurts out, successfully drawing the attention of both the pretty girl and Dong, whose eyebrows raise at Yoohyeon’s haste.

“What?”

Right, when you stupidly explode in front of a stranger, an explanation should be provided.

“I heard that you didn’t like yours,” she barely puts together the sentence on time under that warm, confused gaze, “And I haven’t started mine yet anyway, so,” Yoohyeon trails off and rubs her neck.

“You heard us?” Yoohyeon’s eyes widen in realization.

They must sound like a creep. Total weirdo, who listens to other people’s conversations. 

Not the best first impression.

“Hard not to when you’re talking,” Dong replies dryly and Yoohyeon thanks the heavens for that saving grace of an excuse.

The relief is short-lived as Yoohyeon shifts her gaze to Dong and narrows her eyes. 

Why in the world would Dong extend a helping hand instead of watching her friend squirm in a blatant display of gay panic? The sly smile playing on the older girl’s lips and an all too familiar twinkle in her eyes make alarms go off in Yoohyeon’s head.

“Oh,” the girl looks sheepish and Yoohyeon immediately forgets about Handong, “I guess I was loud, sorry.”  Her cheeks dust with pink and it takes all of Yoohyeon’s composure to keep an enamored smile at bay.

“It’s fine!” they assure immediately and reach for the untouched mug, “You can take this, it’s no problem. It’s a, uh, gingerbread latte.”

The student’s eyes widened and Yoohyeon swore she could see stars in them, “My favorite!”

What are the odds?

“Well, it’s all yours,” Yoohyeon offers kindly, 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,”

Yoohyeon hopes the exchange sounds as smooth as they imagine it. In all honesty, they can barely hear it over their heart pumping blood at a heavily accelerated rate. With hands trembling, Yoohyeon passes the cup to the girl.

Their hands touch.

The cup slips out of Yoohyeon’s grasp.

While it miraculously does not shatter, the coffee spills on the floor. Everywhere. Almost splashing onto the beautiful stranger’s shoes.

“I’m so sorry!” profuse apologies spill out of Yoohyeon’s lips. She wants to contain the mess immediately while also fighting her instincts to flee and never return out of embarrassment.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,”

“No, it’s all on me, I can take care of this! Hang on a second.”

“I think you’re making it worse…”

Handong watches the theatrics play out with infinite amusement. She will have to send out updates immediately. But first, she needs to do some damage control.

“I got this,” she says. The two cut their rapid discussion short and turn to her, “Out of the way.”

Yoohyeon fumbles as she tries to clear the path, almost slamming her hip against a table. She wants to disappear. Melt into a puddle and hide between the spiced coffee and whipped cream on the floor.

“Sorry for that,” she mumbles, eyes focused on the knocked-over cup, “Here, lemme just.”

Yoohyeon crouches to pick the poor cup from the floor and crashes head-first into another person. Right, the beautiful girl. She must have decided to do the exact same thing and appear in Yoohyeon’s path. 

Whoever decided to make knocking heads with your crush into that clumsily romantic cliché must have never experienced it firsthand. It hurts. There is nothing romantic about it. Just a throbbing skull and waves of inebriating embarrassment. 

“I’m so sorry,” Yoohyeon says for what felt like the twentieth time over the past twenty minutes.

“No, I shouldn’t have-”

“Maybe if I looked before just leaning in-”

“I should have done the same, don’t worry.”

“Still I-”

“Really, you’re good.”

They keep rambling apologies and reassuring statements at one another. None of them hear Dong trying to get their attention. But to be fair, nobody should expect Yoohyeon to hear anything when their heart threatens to pound out of their ribs.

“Gahyun!” Dong’s words finally manage to penetrate their bubble, “Don’t you have a test to ace?”

“Right!” the girl, Gahyun, grabs the straps of her backpack and rushes to her feet. Her bun bounces on the top of her head as she makes a move towards the door. With one hand on the door handle, she turns to cast one last look at Yoohyeon, “Thank you. For wanting to share your coffee,”

Blinded by the most radiant smile she had ever seen, Yoohyeon’s senses shut off for a moment as she thought of a potential reply. How do people talk to anyone that makes their heart flutter this much?

“Cool beans,” they say with a smile and follow Gahyun with their eyes as she leaves.

The second the door closes, she buries her face in her hands and groans.

Cool beans

Yoohyeon sits on the floor, feeling more pathetic than the mass of frothed milk right next to them. They can swear the bubbles are mocking them. 

“Well,” Dong’s voice pierce through the wall of regret and embarrassment, “That went great,”

Yoohyeon looks up, “I am a disaster,”

“Yeah, we are all aware,” Dong disappears behind the backdoor and returns with a mop, “But you got the spirit.”

After apologizing for making a mess, Yoohyeon sighs and steps back into the world of Dark Romanticism and brilliant social commentary.

Another minute or two pass before Handong deals with the spillage and mops the floor thoroughly. She returns from the backroom to Yoohyeon disgruntledly mumbling about their absolute lack of game.

Cool beans

Yoohyeon is sure they blew it. Absolutely, positively certain that they have wasted the only shot the universe could give her.

Dong knows better than that.

After all, she has been the sole witness to the scene. And, yes, Yoohyeon undeniably scrambled around with the grace of a freshly born deer. Offering her coffee away like some knight in knitted armor not even considering that it came in a porcelain cup. Gahyun wouldn’t be able to take it away.

Not that Gahyun seemed to have noticed. Too busy getting flustered over the galloping events and a chance encounter with a bumbling stranger.

“Hey, stop moping,” Dong nudges Yoohyeon and placed a new cup in front of her, “Want an americano? I made a whole pitcher when Gahyun ordered.”

Yoohyeon brightens up significantly, eager to wash away her bitter thoughts with a much more pleasant bitterness of black coffee. She sips on it, mind slipping away from the Puritan morality system once again. 

Her thoughts wander out of the comfort of Cafe Somnia and meander through the snow, trailing after a silver-haired girl with the most beautiful smile.

Gahyun

Yoohyeon smiles into the mug, the warmth of said smile purging the memories from any regret.

**

“I’m dead.”

The groan comes from the other side of the room and Minji turns around from where she is placing pillows on her new sofa, “Huh?”

“Dead. Dead with death.”

A quick look down answers her burning questions. Minji giggles at the sight of her dear friend sprawled face down on the floor.

“Why did you ask me, again?” Siyeon wheezes from her spot, “I have like no muscles.”

“Everyone has muscles.”

“Then why do mine not work?!”

Minji grins, “Because you refuse to work out.”

Another groan. 

“Fuck working out.” 

Minji tightens her ponytail with amusement twinkling in her eyes. A good chunk of her belongings still waits in boxes for its turn to be unpacked. Moving to a new apartment, while exciting, proved to be quite a challenge as the building did not possess an elevator and Minji’s place was located on the third floor.

She passes Siyeon’s motionless form and takes out two glasses onto the kitchen counter, “Water?”

Siyeon groans in protest. 

Minji rolls her eyes.

“No wonder your body is falling apart,” she remarks, pouring herself a glass, “You’re lucky I have juice.” Minji opens her fridge to study the array of bottles and cartons. She should organize them later, “Apple?”

Siyeon shows her a thumb up, not even lifting her arms from the floor. 

An infinite amount of gratitude surged through Minji’s body. The fact that her friend, despite getting winded after going up a flight of stairs on a good day, immediately offered to help her settle in. No matter the number or weight of boxes. 

The load might be heavy but Siyeon’s kindness makes Minji’s heart impossibly light.

Topping their glasses off with some ice to cool down from the strain of rearranging furniture, Minji ventures back to her previous spot, situating the glass on the coffee table. She casts a look out the window, peering at the city beneath. 

Darkness has started creeping at the edges of the sky, reminding everybody about the winter season. The radiant outline of the crimson sun peeks through the roofs of tall apartment complexes, shedding a deep scarlet sheen over streets. 

Minji’s fingers reach to play with the silver ring dangling from a chain on her neck. The sky slowly turns from azure to deep violet. She looks at Siyeon, who remains glued to the floorboards. Her long hair marks the floor with dark ribbons. The same color as the evening sky outside.

“Signie,” Minji sing-songs, moving away from the window, “Come get your drink.”

One of the limp hands moves on the floor, extending towards Minji with the palm facing up and fingers slightly curled. Siyeon can act like a five-year-old sometimes and Minji honestly cannot understand how she survives living on her own.

“Come on, up.”

Siyeon groans in protest, patting her waiting hand against the floor a few times. She seems adamant about not moving. Her face is turned towards the floor and Minji knows she will remain in this position until she receives the glass.

“You’re such a baby,” Minji chuckles and stays in place, wondering for a second whether Siyeon will eventually get bored and at least sit up, “You can’t drink while lying down anyway.”

“I can try,” Siyeon grumbles, pout evident in her voice even with her face obscured by tresses of dark hair.

And try, she would, Minji knows that much. No matter how dumb an idea may sound, some people are always willing to attempt realizing it anyway. Siyeon can be one of these people and while Minji normally observes her with amusement, she will not have her friend choking to death on her floor.

With an eye-roll, she relents and starts moving towards the motionless silhouette on her floor. As she closes in, she lightly taps Siyeon’s thigh with her foot, “Your beverage is here, your highness.”

There is a small cheer but other than that Siyeon does not react in any way, remaining glued to the flat surface. 

What a child.

“Oh, come on, you cannot be that tired.”

“Yes, I can.”

A vivid memory of freshman Siyeon with sleep-ridden eyes and glasses riding down her nose washes over Minji in a wave of warmth and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Oh, how time flies and refuses to be captured in the hands of unsuspecting mortals.

Siyeon sighs gently on the floor and Minji smiles at the quiet sound. She thanks the universe for stretching the fabric of time enough for her to linger between present and past. With both versions of her friend keeping her company with no hesitation.

“You sure, you’re not sitting up?” Minji asks, still holding the glass, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. 

Not seeing the expression, Siyeon grumbles and shakes her head.

“Suit yourself,” Minji leans down but instead of placing the glass by her friend’s shoulder, she sets it a bit farther. Then she lowers herself to hover over unsuspecting Siyeon, “I think you should reconsider.”

“Nope,” Siyeon’s voice is tinted with a whine, making her sound like a stubborn three-year old.

Minji cannot help but laugh when Siyeon shrieks and jolts as ten fingers dig into her sides out of nowhere. The younger woman scrambles to break free from the assault.

“Treason!” she yells in between squeals, trying to push Minji’s tickling fingers away as her friend appears utterly amused at her predicament.

When she finally manages to escape and crawl several feet away, Minji smiles smugly at her, “See? You have the energy after all.”

Siyeon huffs, brushing her disheveled hair out of her face, “This is how you repay your gracious friend for coming all the way down here to help you settle in?” 

She locates the glass and takes several greedy sips of the cool juice, all while glaring at Minji, who is not bothered in the slightest. Kind of proud of herself, actually.

“The audacity.”

“You missed me,” Minji teases, her vision partially obscured as the smile makes her eyes disappear, “We should do this more often.”

“If by “this” you mean carrying around heavy-ass boxes, I’ll pass.”

Minji laughs and shoves her lightly to Siyeon’s protests as she almost spills her juice.

“What’s with the violence today?!” she whines, guarding the glass, “Haven’t I been through enough?”

“I think all this carrying is good for you,”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Minji smiles teasingly, “How do you expect to carry your future girlfriend around with no arm strength?”

The corners of her lips lift impossibly higher as Siyeon almost spits the juice and starts coughing, her face crimson. 

“There is little prospect for that,” she states after recovering, “Besides, if she’s the one, she will love me despite the noodle arms.”

Minji pushes herself upwards to get her glass, deciding to join Siyeon on the floor, “Maybe you just need to find a small girlfriend,” she says lightly, “Easier to carry.”

She is stirring the pot and she knows it. Thrives on it. Because Siyeon is adorable when she’s flustered and right now her cheeks are blushing furiously from behind the glass. 

Both of them sit silently in the implications. Minji pretends not to know the identity of Siyeon’s crush and Siyeon pretends to be unaware that Minji does, in fact, know who pops into her head at those words.

Deciding to stop the teasing there, Minji checks her phone, interest piquing at the notifications from Handong. There are few details but one thing is certain and Minji cannot help but feel giddy at the newfound information.

“Seems like Hyeonie has a new crush.”

Siyeon meets her eyes, curious, “Did she say who?”

Minji shakes her head, “Dongie just texted me,” she skims through the words on the screen, “Apparently they made some ruckus at the coffee shop.” 

“Obviously.”

The older woman quickly sits in her previous spot, reclining back to allow Siyeon to follow the exchange, “I’ll ask who that girl is,” she types rapidly as Siyeon leans her chin on her shoulder, pulling Minji into her arms. 

Handong does not keep them waiting long, three jumping dots appearing almost immediately, followed by an all too familiar name.

“Gahyun?” Siyeon squints at the screen, “Dong’s roommate?”

“Seems like it,” Minji giggles as Handong relays some more details from the encounter, “God, she’s such a mess, this kid.”

Siyeon chuckles, reading the message herself, “Can’t wait to hear the full story,” 

“That reminds me!” Minji perks up and opens another window, one that Siyeon recognizes as their group chat, “We should christen the apartment!”

“You just want to get hammered.”

“Yeah and what about it?” 

The message, adorned with a heart emoji and endless enthusiasm soon appears in the chat, making Siyeon’s phone ping with a notification. She ignores it for now, settling for answering Minji verbally and tightening the hold around her waist.

“You know what would be fun?”

Siyeon stiffens at the familiar words. A medley of various schemes courtesy of Miss Kim Minji flashes through her mind, “Do I want to know?”

Minji giggles and starts typing again before showing the screen to Siyeon.

“Oh,” the purple-haired woman chuckles, “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I just think they might need a little nudge.”

“It’s never a little nudge with you.”

Lingering laughter is evident in Minji’s voice as she replies, “Yeah, numbskulls like you need a whole tackle to make a move.”

Siyeon gasps at the attack on her good name, dignity, and all the other things she does not possess.

“Slander!” she cries in mock offense and decides to take her revenge by delivering several pokes to Minji’s stomach. Her friend immediately collapses into a fit of giggles, the pride of her comment and Siyeon’s hands squeezing her sides, eliciting high-pitched laughter. 

The group chat flooded with messages from other members but the two friends were too busy with their play fighting to notice or care. And while it was obvious that Minji will come out on top, being way more fit than Siyeon, they let their childish behavior wash away all worries of adulthood that stood no chance against the healing power of laughter and the company of your loved ones.

**

The sky has already shrouded in all hues of ink by the time Yoohyeon returns home. Clouds prevent them from seeing the silvery speckles of stars but the literature student would pay them no mind either way. What is occupying their mind as they walk through the crisp air of mid-winter is a memory of dark eyes bearing into their own.

Whether it was luck, fate, or misfortune that pushed them from the table and right in front of Gahyun, the force clearly had a purpose in mind. 

Despite her fascination with the beautiful and poetic, Yoohyeon would consider herself a rather level-headed individual. Most of the time at least. Still, she has been through enough random encounters that later bloomed into the most significant connections of her years of occupying this planet. 

So now, as she shuffles briskly through the cold streets, with hands buried in her pockets and upbeat music playing from her earbuds, Yoohyeon ponders on the myriad of significant occurrences in her life.

The essay. Her friends. Gahyun. Approaching Christmas. Gahyun.

Gahyun.

With a groan, Yoohyeon changes the song and lets the mellow voice of early Taylor Swift take her mind elsewhere. Crush or no crush, there are things in life that they need to attend to and Yoohyeon will be damned if a newfound infatuation impacted her concentration.

And if she rewinds the featherlike touch on her fingers for the entire walk home, it is her business.

There is light in one of the windows. Yubin must already be home. Probably burrowed in a nest of layers and her third cup of tea. 

Yoohyeon smiles to herself, a single star twinkles above, ignored in favor of the illuminated window peering into the warm apartment.

It takes her roughly a minute to reach the building, drop her keys, recover them, enter, and ascend the stairs. Soft guitar strumming concludes the song and Yoohyeon pockets the earbuds. A reflection of a lightbulb in silvery hair flashes through her mind. Makes her smile.

Oh, they’re screwed.

As expected, the first thing she sees after going inside and taking her shoes off is Yubin. Glasses low on her nose, a book in her hand, and sea-green hair tied up. Her bangs also reach pretty low, long enough for her to brush them to the sides. 

“I’m back!” Yoohyeon announces, putting her bag on a kitchen chair. It falls. Yubin chuckles to herself, not even looking up.

“How’s the essay going?” 

Yoohyeon groans, “It is. Not.” they reply, taking a mug out, “Tea?”

“Only if I make it,” Yubin shifts from the armchair, putting the blanket away. She refuses to let Yoohyeon in the general vicinity of their kitchen unless there is a fire extinguisher nearby.

“I’m not that bad!”

Her roommate does not dignify it with an answer, making Yoohyeon huff. They both know that she is, in fact, that bad. Fortunately, the universe has led her to end up living with people, who can handle both themselves and her in that regard. So Yoohyeon reaches for the tea leaves and cinnamon sticks, knowing Yubin’s recent love for warming spices. 

They might suck when it comes to the actual process, but they can prepare the resources. 

Yubin walks behind her and Yoohyeon can feel cool fingers brushing the back of her neck as their collar is fixed. Their eyes follow Yubin as she handles the drinks, the scent of cinnamon and dried apple fills every corner of their shared apartment. Homely aroma that envelops Yoohyeon like a hug and breathes a sense of security into every cell of their body.

“Could you open that one?” Yubin motions upwards with her chin and Yoohyeon opens the cabinet in question.

“The liquor one?”

“Mhm, second bottle from the left.”

Deciding not to ask any questions, Yoohyeon reaches for the wide-bottomed bottle. She glances at the label, noticing a drawing of some cephalopod, “Rum?”

“For a little kick.”

“Sign me up,” Yoohyeon hands her the bottle and watches as Yubin expertly pours a splash into their mug. Somehow she always manages to get the perfect amount, showcasing her bartending skills. Once again, Yoohyeon cannot believe their luck. 

Yubin will always make her any drinks she wants and Yoohyeon will be there to open the tall cabinets for her.

They compliment each other like that.

“There you go, dork,” Yubin nudges them with her elbow and points at the mug.

It’s delicious. As usual. Yubin always delivers. The slight bite of spiced rum amplifies the delicate flavor of apple and the cinnamon washes away all the tension from Yoohyeon’s body. They sink into the couch. 

The bliss lasts for five seconds.

“Okay, now spill,” Yubin demands, curled in the armchair again.

Yoohyeon gapes at her, “You hate it when I spill things.”

Her roommate rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her from her face and pushing the glasses up her nose. They are getting foggy from the steam. Yoohyeon knows Yubin will take them off in a second and wipe them with her flannel shirt.

“About the coffee shop fiasco.”

The steamy elixir of warmth and comfort gets stuck in Yoohyeon’s throat alongside their breath. They erupt into a coughing fit. Air disappears from their lungs, especially since Yubin’s words make them think of Gahyun again.

Yubin sits quietly, smirking softly to herself and placing her own mug on the table. She reaches for the edge of her shirt and takes the glasses off. Slowly cleans them from the lingering steam. Takes her sweet time as her best friend tries not to choke to death.

“So?” she inquires when Yoohyeon recovers. They wipe the cough-induced tears from their eyes and glare at Yubin.

“How do you even-,” Yoohyeon narrows her eyes, “Handong.”

“Yup.”

“She texted you?”

“Mhm.”

“This bitch.”

Yubin chuckles, throwing Yoohyeon a box of tissues, so she can get herself together. Yoohyeon takes it, but pouts nonetheless. Yubin is not impressed. She never is.

“You should have seen her. Dude, I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen someone this beautiful,” Yoohyeon sighs, “She touched my hand and I just lost my mind.”

“And Dong lost a cup.”

Yoohyeon groans with protest, hiding their face in their hands, "The cup was fine."

“Not surprised you would freak out though,” Yubin sips her tea, looking like an old, wise sage instead of a frail college student, “Gahyun is pretty and you can be a disaster.”

“Yeah- wait,” Yoohyeon stares dumbfoundedly at her roommate, “You know her?

“Gahyun? Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Yoohyeon’s slightly oxygen-deprived brain struggles to compute that her friend has in fact encountered her coffee shop angel beforehand. Maybe even hung out with her. Got to hear her smooth voice for an extended period of time, listened to her talk about something she is passionate about until lively sparks appeared in her warm eyes.

“What?”

“She’s in one of my classes,” Yubin shrugs, “And she’s Dongie’s roommate, so, yeah.”

“WHAT?”

Yubin blinks slowly as she takes another sip, “Do you ever talk to your friends?”

“I knew she lived with some girl but I never met her.”

“She’s pretty busy, to be fair,” Yubin stretches her neck, “I think I’ve only seen her in their apartment once.”

Yoohyeon mulls over the newly discovered information. The rum tingles on her tongue while a swarm of thoughts pricks at her mind. Apparently, her coffee shop infatuation is also Handong’s mysterious roommate. The one she has never met. The one who was apparently on top of her class and therefore extremely busy. The one Handong referred to as “kid” and who had the most captivating twinkle in her eyes.

As her mind drifts away into a pleasant haze, lulled into it by the warmth of cinnamon and sweetness of the apple, Yoohyeon doesn’t even pick up on the disclosure that Yubin seems to be a frequent guest in her crush’s apartment.

**

New Messages from Dong-dong (6)

New Messages from Sapphic Slayers (23)

New Messages from Yooh (4)

New Messages from Jyu (2)

New Message from Singnie

Chapter Text

The next morning Yoohyeon is met with raging gusts of wind as they have to abandon their warm apartment for early classes. These, while widely despised and considered an absolute torture for every single student, could actually be a blessing in disguise.

Having to rise when the winter sun barely peeked from behind the horizon, Yoohyeon was able to pay a visit to her favorite coffee shop right before the morning rush. Only several unfortunate souls were awake at such time, heads buried in scarves and feet shuffling over the frozen pavement. Careful not to slip and get a concussion, Yoohyeon makes their way to the inviting lights of Cafe Somnia .

Her eyes scan over several early risers hunched over steaming cups cradled in their hands like precious treasures. Seeking for that tiny bit of warmth on a freezing day that has barely started. Anybody would resemble a trembling goblin in such circumstances.

Except for Handong, who apparently is unable to look anything but glamorous. Her hair is braided in such an intricate way that Yoohyeon cannot imagine achieving without pulling an all-nighter. With a fluffy white sweater and sparkling earrings, Handong looks like a radiant angel, serving caffeine to exhausted mortals showing up at her doorstep. 

“Gingerbread latte?” she guesses as Yoohyeon approaches the counter. Her right hand is leaning daintily on the counter, silvery nail polish glittering under the lights. Even her eyes twinkle despite the early hour. 

“It’s so unfair that you get to look this good,” Yoohyeon sighs, fixing their bag that has slipped down their shoulder. Her mother’s voice warns her about scoliosis. Yoohyeon pushes it away, “Double the espresso, please.”

“On it.”

Handong all but glides around the kitchen area, readying the milk to be frothed as she prepares the espresso machine. It’s a dance, a smooth progression of movement, a satisfying procedure where every step follows another, equally as graceful. Everything executed with an overwhelming amount of grace that belongs in a ballroom instead of a coffee shop. Much less at seven in the morning.

“Dong,” she inquires, “You have to promise you will be honest with me.” 

The blonde woman quirks an eyebrow but nods, encouraging Yoohyeon to ask away. They move closer, leaning over the counter, and speak solemnly, “Do you take drugs?”

The laugh that erupts from her friend can only be compared to a stream of perfectly cold and refreshing water tumbling down mountain rocks. If the rocks were diamonds. And the water was diamond as well, that's how expensive Handong sounds. 

“If I knew where to get drugs, I would be selling them,” she replies with a playful lilt to her voice as espresso trickles into the paper cup, “How's the essay going?”

Yoohyeon groans, “Don’t ask me that before I'm mentally prepared”

“And when would that be?”

“Never.”

Handong giggles again, gaining the attention of a customer sitting by a wall. The red-haired girl looks at the barista with a starstruck expression that turns into a grin when Handong notices her and winks.

An impressive feat, really. Yoohyeon would spontaneously combust if a woman as attractive as Handong did that to her.

“You should rebrand to Cafe Simp with how many admirers you get.”

“Not listening to someone who would only come here for Minji's shifts.”

Yoohyeon rolls their eyes, “That was years ago, thank you very much. Besides, now I'm here mostly for your shifts and I am definitely not interested.”

“Uh-huh, whatever you say,” Handong sends them a flying kiss with an eyebrow wiggle, and Yoohyeon cringes, “Are you coming to Minji’s, by the way?”

“All these poor souls have no idea how much of a dork you actually are.” Yoohyeon shakes her head, “And yeah, Yubs and I are coming.”

“See you there, then,” Handong replies and there is a teasing edge to her tone, one that Yoohyeon cannot identify. “And it’s a part of my charm. Here’s your coffee. Pay up.” 

Handong says these words with more confidence than most people will ever feel in their lives. Yoohyeon loves that for her. Loves that about her.

They also love that Handong supplies them with caffeine. Love the encouraging smile she sends them before Yoohyeon has to step back into the cold. Love the little heart drawn on the cup next to her name.

The sky has a pink tint to it when she steps out of the coffee shop.

**

What an arbitrary concept, home.

Siyeon used that word to describe three places over the twenty-five years of her existence on this floating rock in space. Much like it, she also floated through life, moving from one place to another with seemingly no pattern or rule. Only when it clicked that her journey made more sense when considered a symphony, not a novel did Siyeon realize the way life events resonated with chords and notes instead of rhyme and reason.

Her parents' house back in Daegu, the one that saw baby Siyeon’s first steps, stumbles, and singing attempts, a place she visited way too rarely for her liking and one that occupied a significant section of her heart. The core and root, the steady drum that acted as a base of the complicated composition of one Lee Siyeon.

Then came adulthood, perceived maturity coming with a plastic card entitling one to be a full-fledged citizen, an overwhelming number of questions, and only one direction to follow: figure it out. And Siyeon did if she were to say so herself, with anxious heartstrings playing out of pitch and in dissonance, but she did. Found home with a caring girl with flaming red hair, sparkling eyes, and fearless confidence, who dropped out of a major she hated. Fell even deeper into the warm embrace of familiarity when a calm freshman with an adagio of quiet confidence joined their little family.

“This should cover it, thanks,” Yubin smiles at Siyeon, looking up from a stack of papers spread all over the coffee table. They contain notes Siyeon took during her third year of college and now shared with Yubin to help her with studies, “Some sections overlap, so I should find what I need.

Yubin studies sound engineering with a minor in composing, her technical mind and artistic spirit blending in synchrony to lay a foundation for what can be a stellar career in the music industry. While her classes differ from the ones that Siyeon, a poet and dreamer before anything else, took in her college days, some of the material can be reused by the younger girl.

Plus, it gives Siyeon a chance to come back home instead of sitting in her apartment that, albeit serving as an incredible oasis of peace, does not feel like home quite yet. And so, here she is, sharing space with her friend while a box of their favorite takeout awaits its turn in the kitchen.

“Have you seen Minji’s new place?”

Yubin shakes her head, “I’m going over there tomorrow to help her set up.”

Siyeon hums, sitting on the couch with her feet propped on the coffee table, careful not to wrinkle the paper, “It’s really nice, lots of space,” her arm muscle stings, reminding her of the damn boxes she had to carry around, “Even more stuff.”

“Wouldn’t be Minji without all her treasures.”

“Sure wouldn’t.”

Not that Siyeon has anything to say about it. Both her and Minji were the types to hold onto cherished memories and all paraphernalia that acted like vessels encapsulating the past. Their shared room bustled with colors and details, painting a picture of lives fully lived, memories made every step of the way. A girl far from home, yearning for connection walking hand in hand with a girl determined to make any place feel like home. Singnie and Jiu. Two romantics and their pragmatic roommate.

Siyeon knows there are stars dancing in her eyes, a glassy sheen of sentimental affection that washes over her whenever she wanders through the depths of her mind. Every time she experiences the dual presence of someone she loved, in real life and in her heart. Yubin lived in both realms, a permanent resident of both Siyeon’s home and heart.

“You’re coming tomorrow, right?” 

It’s hard not to melt at Yubin’s big eyes sparkling under slightly furrowed brows, as if the mere idea of Siyeon’s absence personally inconvenienced her. Posed as a question, the inquiry cannot be more straightforward to someone who knows Yubin well enough. 

And Siyeon does.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Yubin hums in acknowledgement, content with the answer. A person of few words but a lot of affection. Expressing herself with facial expressions, brief touches, and cups of tea. Easy-going and apparent, open minded and straightforward in her expression.

“By the way, have you ever met Gahyun?

Siyeon is in the middle of a yawn when Yubin asks, hand over her mouth, and body reclining backwards in a stretch. She groans when another sore spot in her back is disturbed, “I need to start working out.”

There is a gentle hand on her shoulder and before Siyeon realizes, her body gets turned around until her back faces Yubin. The younger girl works her fingers under Siyeon’s shoulder blade, earning a few sounds of appreciation that would be considered less than appropriate in most circumstances.

“Back to your question,” Siyeon stops mid sentence to let out another groan, “I think I saw her once when I picked you up?”

“Applied math? You might have, she sits a few rows back.”

Siyeon feels her muscles relax under Yubin’s gentle touch and sighs quietly, “Purple hair? Like very light purple.”

“It’s silver now, but I think that’s her, yeah.”

“Pretty girl.”

Yubin’s smile is apparent in her voice, “Yooh sure thinks so.”

It’s easy to laugh with Yubin. Whether at the unholy noises Siyeon makes when her shoulders get massaged, or at Yoohyeon’s little crush, the atmosphere turns lighter, air a bit clearer and filled with bubbles. One of these moments when life feels easier and more manageable, even if for a moment.

“Can’t wait to see their panicked ass,” Siyeon cackles, “Do you think Gahyun will blend in well?”

“Hard to say, to be honest.”

Siyeon tries to focus on the conversation instead of pure bliss elicited by whatever magic Yubin is performing on her aching muscles, “Is she quiet?”

“Shy, I think,” Yubin pokes around her back to find more sore spots, Siyeon smiling at the act of service, “Then again, you remember how Dong used to be.”

Siyeon sure does. The girl Minji brought over one day proved to be an enigma of sorts, incredibly reserved and still not fully proficient in Korean, having just moved here in pursuit of her dreams. Dirty blonde hair and eyes that peered into the depths of one’s soul, Handong looked otherworldly, like an entity impossible to catch or understand. An ice princess. Observing and listening intently with subtle mannerisms that never betrayed what she truly thought. 

“I hope she'll warm up to us, Gahyun, I mean.”

Yubin gives Siyeon’s shoulder one final squeeze and shifts back, waiting for Siyeon to face her again, “Not if you moan like that.”

Siyeon sputters, “Why on Earth would I do that?!”

“I don't know, you and Bora can get weird,” Yubin shrugs, “Wouldn’t say moaning at each other was off the table.”

“We will not be moaning, oh my God.”

“Bora sure won’t, there's no way you could top her.”

Siyeon turns crimson and one of her dearest friends in the world becomes her biggest enemy in that second. With the ferocity of Cain striking his brother with a rock, Siyeon descends one of the couch pillows onto Yubin's head.

Only to have it snatched right out of her hand.

Humiliated beyond reproach, with embers of her dignity sizzling in the frigid air of the merciless battlefield, Siyeon glowers at Yubin, who emerges victorious from their duel.

“Dude,” Siyeon whines.

Yubin rolls her eyes at the pout Siyeon can feel she's making, but refuses to stop. If anything, she amps it up.

“All I'm saying is that you should get yourself together.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“No way your mom ever said that.”

Siyeon ponders, knowing Yubin is right, and mentally apologizes to her saint of a mother, “Well, then you're worse than my mom.”

“I think your mom would agree with me that you should do something about your pining.”

Siyeon averts her gaze, “I don't pine.”

“Sure you don't.”

Tracing the edges of a blanket draped over the back of the couch with her fingers, Siyeon slowly succumbs to the wandering spirit her mind tends to exhibit. She knows Yubin will pull her back if needed. They never felt uncomfortable in the silence of one another, preferring it to forced verbalization of their souls.

The fleece is soft, littered with lint that Siyeon's touch welcomes as a pleasant variety to the otherwise smooth surface. This blanket wasn't here when she still lived in the apartment, but it fits in perfectly. Much like Yoohyeon did right after moving in. Maybe it's their blanket. That would make sense.

“You think she has a chance with Gahyun?” 

If Yubin is surprised by the sudden question (which she never is), she doesn't show it. Familiar with the trajectory of Siyeon’s mind, she knows to expect the unexpected, could probably even retrace the web of thoughts that led to this very utterance.

Instead, she just answers.

“Hard to say,” Yubin shrugs, taking back her mug of tea that got previously discarded in favor of the notes, “Gahyun is very driven, so they'll have that in common. Time will tell. But I think there's always a chance.”

Siyeon knows that the last part is also directed at her and lets it fan the flames of hope in her heart. A flickering candlelight dancing in her chest cavity.

“Hey, is Dongie dating someone?” she asks then, remembering the array of suitors seemingly sprouting from the ground as Handong sauntered through the world.

“Not that I know of,” Yubin shrugs, “She rarely dates people.”

Siyeon nods, trying and failing to remember if Dong was ever in a relationship over the course of them knowing each other, “They just lust over her.”

“Can you blame them?”

“No, not really.”

Siyeon, while sometimes still intimidated by the mystery of Handong, can in no way deny how ridiculously attractive the girl is. Still, it's the kind of beauty that Siyeon can appreciate from a distance instead of being drawn in.

“So you’d say you lust over Dong?”

Yubin rolls her eyes, “No, I wouldn’t.”

“You two would work well together.”

Truth be told, Siyeon sometimes wonders if they are dating already. However, she likes to think that Yubin would have told her. On the other hand, it would be incredibly on brand for Yubin to assume they made it obvious enough for anyone to catch on without disclosing anything directly.

“Focus on your conquests.”

Siyeon scoffs, “I have no conquests.”

“Yeah,” Yubin’s lips twitch in amusement, “It’s hard to watch.”

Siyeon huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. She refuses to admit that Yubin has a point, that Yubin is right as always, and that Siyeon in all her best intentions is simply unable to properly make a move on a girl she is interested in. One of her closest friends. The woman with a laugh powerful enough to shatter glass and the gentlest touch that could mend any fractures on Siyeon’s sensitive soul. Someone capable of testing the limits of her ribcage by continuously prompting the heart to pound against its confines. 

“I should probably do something about that.”

She says it mostly to herself but contrary to that coward, Yubin doesn't leave her hanging.

“You really should.”

Her voice remains neutral and her features relaxed, eyes focused back on the notes. Yubin is not poking fun at Siyeon, merely stating a fact. A painfully obvious one.

“Maybe you should,” Siyeon replies with the dignity of a three-year-old who just got schooled and refuses to accept that fact.

Yubin crinkles her nose, “Ask Bora out? Yeah, I'll pass.”

In her infinite wisdom, Yubin clearly has no taste when it comes to women. 

“Why?!” Siyeon questions incredulously as if the idea of Yubin not wanting to ask Siyeon's crush out was ludicrous.

“What?”

“Why not?!”

Yubin looks up from the papers, completely puzzled, “Why not what?”

“Why wouldn't you ask Bora out?!”

“Wh-” Yubin stares at her dear friend, who seems to have forgotten who in this fine establishment is the one pathetically down bad for their mutual friend, “She's too,” she makes an ambiguous gesture, “ Bora for me.”

Siyeon falls silent for a moment, contemplating Yubin's words.

“That's what makes her so-”

She doesn't finish, the sentence melting into a warm smile full of affection and merges with the hopeful fire glowing in Siyeon’s chest.

“Gross.”

Yubin should really get herself checked since there seems to be no romantic bone in her body.

“You're calling her gross now, huh?!” Siyeon exaggerates her outrage. She knows what Yubin meant.

“I'm calling you , gross.”

She does have a point. Not that Siyeon minds. Scrutiny would never make her rescind the pleasure of being in love.

“I'll tell Bora you called her groooss,” Siyeon drags the last word out with a childish glee as Yubin rolls her eyes at her.

“I'll send Dong on your ass,” she threatens back.

One thing about Yubin, she will always join in the antics immediately after expressing her disdain.

Siyeon narrows her eyes, the odds not looking that great for her anymore.

“Bora will protect me,” she claims.

Yubin scoffs, “She is so whipped for Dongie that she will let her pummel you around the room like a ping pong ball.”

The imaginary herald plays a mournful tune at Siyeon’s defeat.

“You win this one.”

“I win all of them.”

Their food needs to be reheated by the time they are done with this line of conversation. 

**

When Yoohyeon returns to the coffee shop, it’s also dark outside, the curse of winter months doing its job a little bit too well. Sending millions of unsuspecting residents into Vitamin D deficiency, drowsiness, and a sneaking fatigue propelled forward by the lack of sun. To catch a glimpse of a sky that is not shrouded in all shades of charcoal and navy is a struggle these days. The few lucky individuals who get to go outside during the limited daylight hours still usually only see washed-out gray with occasional white streaks of fluffy clouds. 

Blue might not be Yoohyeon’s favorite color, but it certainly is one they miss the most. 

They will, however, accept the warm color palette of Cafe Somnia with its brick wall covered in dark green ivy, jewel-colored coffee cups, and polished wooden counter. Even Bora with her maroon shirt compliments the color scheme perfectly. 

There are quite a few people inside, exam season approaching rapidly and more and more students opting for out-of-home locations to conduct their study processes in order not to taint their homes with academic stress.

Yoohyeon is one of them.

Something about studying in their room, whether by the desk or on their bed proves tenfold as draining as doing so anywhere else. Studying at Somnia helps Yoohyeon soak up the positive aura and channel it into productive work, studying at home forces her to take from her own energy reserves and therefore drains her enthusiasm at a much more rapid speed.

Plus, there is no way Yoohyeon could ever make coffee that would taste as perfect as the one here.

The crowd makes it hard to locate a free table and for a second Yoohyeon thinks they might need to abandon all hope and search for an alternative study space. However, it quickly turns out that the mass of anxious bodies mostly consists of students popping in for a beverage to go before hurrying away to complete their pressing errands.

Yoohyeon secures a spot in the very corner of the cafe, by a two-person table near a potted plant. She has never sat there, preferring to snag a small table since her only requirement is for the laptop to fit and other customers needed the space more.

Seeing that the line remains too long for their lining, Yoohyeon sits down and opts to order later, once the coast is clearer. The afternoon snow forms a thin layer on the ground outside, making it eerily similar to the glaring whiteness of her empty essay document.

She stares at the blank page with narrowed eyes, wishing to intimidate the words into writing themselves. 

The words laugh at her misery, “Hey, is that seat taken?”, but at least they have a very pretty voice.

Yoohyeon might be going insane.

It takes them an embarrassingly long time to realize that her essay did not in fact speak to them. Yoohyeon would have to write anything first for that to happen, first of all, and secondly, that wasn’t how the world worked. This meant a wandering customer was waiting in front of her table for a response whether she would share her space or not.

Why would anyone want to share her minuscule table?

Yoohyeon gazes up at the sudden visitor and feels all the synapses in their brain short-circuit before settling on a high-intensity static clouding their judgment.

In front of her stands Gahyun, hair glowing white as it falls down her shoulders in soft waves. Yoohyeon forgets how to breathe. Their brain already went haywire when they saw her in a hoodie and jeans. Seeing her so dazzling in a pastel blue cropped sweater and a matching high-waisted skirt is a whole other story. To think that this breathtaking individual wanted to sit with them.

She wants to sit with them.

“Hi!” Yoohyeon almost cringes at their sudden outburst of enthusiasm. Gahyun just giggles at her. Good Lord.

“Sorry to bother you, I just got my coffee but didn’t consider that I should probably find a seat first,” she motions to a steaming pink cup in her hands, “And I remembered you from yesterday, so I thought you were my best shot.”

Yoohyeon moves her laptop forward to make more room on the table and gestures for Gahyun to sit down. Her hand shakes terribly during the entire motion and she prays the girl doesn’t notice, “There isn’t much room, I barely managed to find that table.”

“It’s all good, I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I finish my chocolate.”

Gahyun’s smile lights up the entire room as she gently lowers herself onto the chair opposite Yoohyeon. Her cup stands behind the laptop, far enough to minimize any spilling hazard and it makes Yoohyeon realize that she still has yet to order anything for herself.

She cranes her neck to see whether the crowd swarming the front of the cafe has dispersed and finds herself pleasantly surprised when Bora’s form can be spotted behind the counter.

“I’ll just go order,” Yoohyeon informs Gahyun, who is typing on her phone. She gets a nod in reply as the dark eyes remain transfixed on the screen.

Maneuvering between the tables is complicated. Yoohyeon manages to bump her hip into the back of someone’s chair. Apologizes profusely and continues her walk towards the oasis of this coffee heaven.

“Finally,” Bora greets her with a barely contained grin, “How is it going, smooth operator?”

Yoohyeon groans, “I am not a smooth operator.”

“Yeah, no shit. She stood there for ages before you even looked at her.”

“Wait, really?”

Bora snorts, “Don’t get too excited, your table was the only space available.”

It has always been like this with Bora. Blunt and to the point, sharp quips and words of affection delivered with the same sincerity. A storm incoming but always sparing those in her protection, choosing to unleash the tempest on anyone threatening to hurt whoever found solace in her embrace.

There is a pout on Yoohyeon’s lips, one that finds its way there every time she is with Bora because it is known to make the woman coo at her friend affectionately and Yoohyeon’s job is to pretend she hates it with burning passion. 

They both know it’s as far from the truth as possible but neither acknowledges it. It’s their thing. One of many quirks of their dynamic that made themselves known over the few years of knowing each other.

“So what’s going on over there?”

“She’s sitting. Looking very pretty. And I-”

“And you are wasting your time, and keeping me away from paying customers.” Bora finishes dryly, cackling when Yoohyeon whines.

“I am a paying customer.”

“Well, then pay!”

Yoohyeon has grown quite used to it and even learned to find comfort in the explosive exclamations. Yubin barely made any noise, filling their joint apartment with the serene tranquility of a steady sea. When she lived with Bora, their place would vibrate with a buzzing energy that radiated from her at all times. Bora would be everywhere at all times, music playing as she sang softly, the sound of her voice mixing with the smell of whatever she was cooking for them to enjoy together.

With Yubin, one mostly found signs of her presence, hints that she occupied the space but rarely did she do it directly. Yoohyeon would usually see the fog covering the mirror after Yubin’s evening shower, would pass her quickly in the hallway, both wearing their earphones and just nodding in acknowledgment before parting ways to their respective responsibilities.

Bora’s absence left a vacancy of silence, Yubin’s silence left no room for vacancy.

“She’s looking.”

Yoohyeon blinks, “Huh?”

With an exaggerated groan, Bora punches Yoohyeon’s shoulder. It didn’t hurt but Yoohyeon still yelped to keep the tradition going, “Your girlfriend is looking.”

“She. Is not. My girlfriend.” Yoohyeon can feel their cheeks get warm, blood rushing to traitorously put their emotions on display.

“And she will not be if you don’t get your ass back to her.”

Bora has a point but she is also obnoxious about it, so Yoohyeon refuses to admit it. They will never hear the end of it, if they ever let Bora be right about something and her ego does not need any more inflation.

“Let me order then,” Yoohyeon whispers.

“She won’t hear you!” Bora responds way too loudly and Yoohyeon is ready to jump over the counter and kick her. 

Yoohyeon runs a hand over her face, “Shut up!” she pleads in a hushed tone and Bora has the audacity to laugh at her, “I need better friends.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me,” Bora puckers her lips and makes kissing noises that prompt Yoohyeon to express her disgust. They are lucky that another employee can man the counter while the pair is busy being ridiculous. Still, Bora has to come back to her duties eventually, even if her shift begins to conclude, “Here’s your order.”

“I didn’t order anything.”

Bora smirks, way too pleased with herself, “I made it the second you let her join you, I assumed you would come running for help.”

One of the more sizable mugs lands in front of Yoohyeon, who squints at her smug friend, “I came over here to get coffee.”

“It’s okay to say you missed me.”

“You just-” Yoohyeon decides not to argue. Bora does have a point after all, “Whatever, see you at Minji’s.”

Bora tilts her head, “What?”

Yoohyeon rolls their eyes at the blatant disrespect that is ignoring the sacred group chat where all updates and invitations appear whenever any of them wants to gather the gang together. Which happens often, some of the members of their friend group suffer from a severe case of separation anxiety, “Read your messages sometimes.”

“Sorry for having a life,” Bora pokes Yoohyeon’s cheek and gets her hand swatted away, “She’ll probably tell me today.”

“You better come,” Yoohyeon warns, “Also, hey, how did you know about Gahyun if you didn’t-”

“Dong.”

Yoohyeon rolls her eyes, “Obviously.”

“She texted me immediately after your little fiasco.”

“Not listening,” Yoohyeon replies and takes the mug, “How much for that?”

“On the house,” Bora says swiftly without missing a beat before returning to her teasing, “Try not to spill that one.”

“Try to grow a few inches.”

“Try to grow a pair!”

The sound of Bora’s loud laughter follows Yoohyeon all the way back. They move the laptop to the left before deciding to give up for now. Words remain cruel and unrelenting, so it was time to push the responsibility over future Yoohyeon. The one living in the current moment places her mug on the table and puts the laptop back into the bag hanging on the back of the chair.

Gahyun’s eyes have left the phone and are focused on Yoohyeon’s beverage, “That looks good,” she comments, leaning on her hand, “What is that?”

“Good question,” Yoohyeon chuckles awkwardly and takes a sip. Since Bora prepared it before they approached the counter, the temperature was perfect for the whole thing to be downed in one go. It takes all of Yoohyeon’s will to stop herself from doing just that. 

The gentle flavor of vanilla gently coaxes her taste buds into sending signals to the brain that they need more and the spicy tinge of cinnamon only encourages them. Most people do not feel so deeply about their drinks but Yoohyeon isn’t most people and the cup in their hands currently holds the very essence of heaven bestowed upon them, the lowly heathen.

Yoohyeon thinks Dong may have lied to her and Cafe Somnia does put drugs into their orders after all.

While Yoohyeon is occupied with the otherworldly experience provided by Bora’s masterful concoction, Gahyun sits on the opposite side of the table and waits for her companion’s return to reality. Observing the bliss spreading on Yoohyeon’s face in silent contemplation.

“Oh, this is so good,” Yoohyeon eventually lets out, forcing their hand to put the priceless treasure down lest they drink the entirety of it way too soon.

Gahyun chuckles lightly, “I assumed.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” Yoohyeon scrambles at the realization that she completely forgot about what Gahyun was talking about. Damn Bora and her enchanted beverages, “You were saying?”

“Just asking what you were drinking. Now I’m even more curious.”

“I don’t think it’s on the menu,” Yoohyeon explains apologetically, wanting nothing more than to share the details to sate Gahyun’s curiosity. They would give her the recipe if she asked, would make the drink herself, which probably would make it disgusting but the effort would be there, “Bora just made it up on the spot.”

“You must be close,” Gahyun remarks, still eyeing the cup, her gaze briefly flicking behind Yoohyeon, probably traveling to Bora, “Not to pry, of course.”

Yoohyeon shakes their head, making their glasses slip down a little, “We used to live together before she got her own place.”

“I need to talk to Dong since some people truly are living a better life.”

They both laugh, thoughts traveling to yesterday and the fateful americano that unintentionally led to their first encounter. Or maybe it did that on purpose, being made by Dong with all her mischievousness that honestly could include dabbling in black magic and more people should talk about it.

“Please, Bora just bribes me cause otherwise I won’t withstand her constant abuse.”

Gahyun giggles, sending Yoohyeon’s mind into yet another fuzzy spiral, “Fair tradeoff, I guess, judging by your reaction.”

“Yeah, she sure is gifted. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“I won’t if you share,” Gahyun teases with twinkling eyes, having no clue that Yoohyeon would gladly surrender the entire cup to her yet again.

Yoohyeon pushes the cup in her direction and Gahyun’s eyes widen in surprise, “I was kidding.”

“I’m not, drink up,” Yoohyeon shrugs and makes a point of moving the cup even closer to the girl, “I still owe you for spilling your coffee yesterday.”

Gahyun purses her lips, “It was yours.”

“Up until I gave it to you. Kim Yoohyeon always stands by her words.” 

Yoohyeon realizes very well that they are being a dork but the fact does not seem to bother them in the slightest. Quite the opposite, the more they lean into it, the easier it becomes to maintain a coherent conversation with the most breathtaking girl in the world. The girl who is smiling at their antics and maybe that makes all the difference.

“So you’re Yoohyeon,” Gahyun’s face lights up as if she just cracked a mystery of some sort, “I never connected the dots.”

“Right, I never introduced myself,” Yoohyeon chuckles sheepishly, “Dong didn’t tell you?”

Gahyun shakes her head, making a strand of hair swish in front of her face. She frowns and puts it behind her ear. Yoohyeon definitely does not observe her every move and does not find Gahyun doing the most mundane things absolutely mesmerizing.

“She told me stories about you but didn’t enlighten me that it was you who came to my rescue,” Gahyun pauses with a smile, “I should have connected the dots, though.”

Yoohyeon perks up at the last sentence. Seems like despite all the relentless teasing, Handong presented them in a fairly positive light to her roommate. The very same roommate that Yoohyeon finds themself developing a serious crush on and appreciates Handong’s unintentional wing woman efforts immensely. Maybe she told Gahyun that her good friend Yoohyeon was a courteous person, a true knight in shining armor who would selflessly give out their last cup of coffee to a beautiful girl in need.

“Really?” they ask, eager to learn what exactly her angel of a friend shared about them.

“Yeah, she mentioned you spill things often.”

Never mind, Yoohyeon was going to kill Dong.

“Rude,” she scoffs, sipping idly at the drink, “By the way, how come we never met? With you being her roomie and all.”

Gahyun purses her lips and pushes a strand of silver hair behind her ear. A few stray hairs bunch up instead of falling neatly in order and it takes a tremendous amount of self-control for Yoohyeon not to lean forward and fix them for her. 

It would definitely be an unwise choice to invade a stranger’s personal space during their second meeting, 

“I’m often in the library or working on something with my friends,” Gahyun explains, “Lots of work to do.”

Yoohyeon nods, “Yeah, first year goes like that,” they say with a cadence of someone experienced in the great art of studying. Yoohyeon pointedly avoids the glaring screen with a barely started essay outline, “I tried studying in the library, but it’s not my style.”

“Too intimidating?”

“Too boring.”

Light laughter tumbles out of Gahyun’s lips and she lightly chews on her lip as if stopping any more from escaping. A tragedy, truly, for the world to be prevented from experiencing any more of the tiny miracle bestowed upon it in the form of Gahyun’s laugh. This might be for the better, though. How could anyone focus on their mundane tasks when confronted with such a magnificent phenomenon? Yoohyeon sure couldn’t. Barely can now, especially with the nagging awareness that it was her that caused it to happen in the first place.

What a beautiful thing, making someone laugh.

“So you study here?

Yoohyeon nods, “I like the vibes.”

“The vibes?”

“The vibes.”

They stare at each other in silence for a moment, Gahyun cluessly trying to grasp the complex and arbitrary concept of “vibes” while Yoohyeon just enjoys a chance to look at Gahyun. How her brow furrows when she’s concentrating. The glimmer of silvery eyeshadow in the inner corners of her eyes that brings out the sparkle that already resides in them. Constellations waiting to be explored, their brightness only rivaled with Gahyun’s smile and her brilliant mind that Yoohyeon has heard about and yearns to get a better glimpse at.

“Don’t you get distracted by all the people?” Gahyun eventually asks.

“They are a part of the vibes,” Yoohyeon answers with a completely serious expression, “I kind of tune them out, like white noise. The library was too quiet, made me hear all my thoughts, it freaked me out.”

There is a puzzled expression over Gahyun’s face, the girl being confronted with a mindset completely alien to her, a stark contrast with what she considered optimal working conditions.

“Shouldn’t you hear your thoughts?”

Yoohyeon snorts, “Yeah, no, thanks.”

Gahyun gapes at her and Yoohyeon marvels at how simple it is to talk to her. Sure, the hyper awareness of everything Gahyun-related (the lavender tint to her hair is more vivid when her hair is down, how cool is that?) provides a distraction, but Yoohyeon does not mind. It’s akin to a soft wisp of wind playing with the strands of one’s hair instead of the sensation of having your seat kicked by an obnoxious child. Pleasant way for the brain to escape its usual frequency for a bit, before returning to reality with a newfound vigor.

“Maybe I should try that,” Gahyun takes out a notebook from her bag. The cover is pale green and scattered with streaks of copper, creating abstract patterns, “If you don’t mind me sitting with you.”

Hypnotized by the beautiful and intricate notebook cover, Yoohyeon barely catches the question and is met with a stiff-looking Gahyun when she finally looks up. The girl’s shoulders are tense, her lower lip collapsed due to teeth tugging on the inside of it. Observing, awaiting. Uncertain.

“Oh, sorry,” Yoohyeon shakes their head a bit, copper swirls lingering in the peripheral vision, “Make yourself comfortable.”

The girl lets out a breath, a small smile blooming on her face. Did she expect Yoohyeon to refuse? Seems like it, the way tension slowly melts away from her body as Gahyun takes out her pencil case and takes out a pen, twirling it in her fingers. Yoohyeon would have dropped it immediately, she has always envied Yubin, who could spin pens and pencils with ease.

Gahyun’s movement is more idle, the pen merely moving between her fingers as she looks for a relevant page in her notebook. She uses black ink, Yoohyeon notices, being a fan of such color herself when it comes to note taking, something Bora and her often bickered about, Bora claiming that blue ink has been scientifically proven to help memorization and Yoohyeon retorting that she doesn’t give a shit. Black ink was simply cooler.

“Thank you,” Gahyun’s eyes crinkle adorably, her lip still captured between her teeth, albeit the grip appears to be lighter now, “At least I’ll know one of you better.”

Yoohyeon tilts their head, “One of us?”

“You know, your friend group,” the uncertainty is back in Gahyun’s voice, a slight lilt grasping at the edge of her words, “Dong said I’m invited the next time you all hang out and I’m kinda on the fence.”

“Oh, right, Yoohyeon nods and then realizes, “Wait, why?”

Gahyun shrugs, a strand of hair falling from her shoulder at the movement, “I don’t really know anyone except for Dong and maybe Yubin, and well, you, I guess,” she sighs, “Not sure why I got invited in the first place.”

Now this is a question Yoohyeon could answer, but she certainly will not. Gahyun does not need to know that Minji took it upon herself to orchestrate an opportunity for the entire group to meet Yoohyeon’s new crush, their other friends immediately jumping at the chance to witness it first-hand. What’s obvious to them is completely unknown to Gahyun and it’s no wonder she’s slightly apprehensive.

“Minji likes meeting new people,” Yoohyeon says instead, settling for a statement that is correct but doesn’t cover the part that is embarrassing for them, “They can be a lot, but they’re all good people.”

Gahyun seems unconvinced, still hung up on the prospect of handling a bunch of strangers at once and Yoohyeon realizes with utmost surprise that the girl is way more shy than they first assumed. It would be expected for a girl as dazzling as Gahyun to navigate social situations with ease and little trouble. The fact she is worried about meeting their little group makes her even more endearing. Awakens an instinct in Yoohyeon to make it as pleasant and comfortable of an experience as possible. 

“They’ll love you,” she adds, “You have nothing to worry about.”

Gahyun narrows her eyes, “How can you be so sure?”

Yoohyeon grins at her, “The vibes.”

A beat of silence before Gahyun rolls her eyes with a humorous scoff and a smile tugging on the corners of her lips that she tried to hide from a now smug Yoohyeon. They did it. Cracked at the ice and managed to make Gahyun warm up to them enough to exhibit playful exasperation. It’s something, it’s exhilarating,

It’s a beginning.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm, Yoohyeon takes out her laptop to stare at the screen and Gahyun scribbling in the notebook. Eyes glued to their respective work, the chatter of the coffee shop merely a low hum in the background. Gahyun moves in her chair. Knocks her knees against Yoohyeon’s. Apologizes. Seconds later Yoohyeon bumps her ankle with their shoe. Apologizes. They look at each other. Smile briefly. 

“We should get a bigger table next time,” Yoohyeon remarks after yet another collision under the table.

Gahyun stops writing, eyes focused on the person across the tiny table, “Next time?”

Something deflates in Yoohyeon’s chest but she doubles down instead of backing out. They are having a good time despite barely exchanging a word and Gahyun said she wanted to get to know one of them more, didn’t she? Besides, now that Yoohyeon got a chance to bask in the radiant presence, she cannot imagine going back to solitude and with only the company of an empty page mocking her.

“Yeah,” she offers Gahyun a hesitant smile, “If you want to.”

Yoohyeon watches as Gahyun rolls up a sweater of her pastel sweater, a dainty silver bracelet peeking out from underneath.

Maybe blue could become their favorite color after all.

“I would love that.”

Neither of them hear the door opening, too occupied with their studies and not able to pick up on it in the chatter anyway.

Dressed in a black coat and clicking the heels of her black boots, enters Minji. Her cheeks flushed from the cold, framed by the equally rosy hair, and accompanied by a bright smile that could probably melt away all the frost outside if not directed at one person in particular.

“Hello, you,” she giggles after all but bouncing towards the counter, a trail of floral perfume lingering in the air and gaining longing looks from customers in the line. All of them waiting for something to warm them up and aware that no beverage could match the glow emanating from the woman in front of them.

Bora smiles back at her, takes off the apron, and walks into the employees only area. She comes back out wearing her own coat and scarf, bracing herself for the cold. Minji drums her fingers against the counter, eyeing the pastry display and undoubtedly planning which one to get during her next visit, the sweet tooth of hers unbashedly staring at the baked goods.

“Ready?” Minji asks, tearing herself away from the array of sugary treats.

Behind her, Bora can see Yoohyeon staring at Gahyun with utmost attention, clearly enamored by whatever she was hearing. And then Minji’s eyes twinkle in the same way that enchanted Bora years ago and kept her under that spell ever since. 

She’s not any better than Yoohyeon.

“Yeah,” she simply says, “Let’s go.”

They emerge into the cold night, leaving the coffee shop behind. Contrary to its slowly disappearing lights, the feelings stay.

They always do.

Chapter Text

Brown eyes stare at Bora intensely as if reading her mind. They should, but Bora knows they don’t as the dark irises are her own, reflected in a cup of equally dark coffee. 

She pours a bit of milk into it, watching with satisfaction as the judgemental gaze gets clouded until she cannot maintain eye contact anymore. 

Bora raises her eyes from the swirling surface and meets a glinting pair of eyes across the table. Now these, Bora is convinced, might actually be able to peer straight into her brain and uncover things she wants to hide even from herself. 

“You’re staring.”

“You’re quiet.”

She has always been like that, Handong. Observant and perceptive. Contrary to Minji, who invited you in with the sweetness of her words and stars in her eyes, Handong forced one to accept that there is no hiding from her and the diamond-like clarity of her judgments. Minji made you want to share everything with her, Handong gave an impression that she knows anyway, so you might as well tell her.

Bora was not going to do that. 

“There is nothing to say.”

Handong rolls her eyes a bit and picks up a dainty cup of tea like a princess she was supposed to be and probably was, in another reality, “Whatever you say.”

Despite seeing each other at work, they tried to meet at least bi-weekly. Not wanting to fall into stagnation, both in terms of their friendship and Seoul's cafe scene. Working at a coffee shop made one prone to limit their outings to that location only, tempted by the employee discount and pure convenience. Bora and Handong refused to make their workplace their hangout spot and see their friendship shift exclusively into a co-worker status.

The place they were currently sitting in was recommended to Bora by Siyeon, the girl claiming to have eaten the best cinnamon rolls in the world here (immediately adding that Bora's were better, of course). Its pastel decor did not seem to suit Siyeon's style in the slightest, not to someone who knew her as the girl who performed a rock song on a symphonic concert and received a standing ovation. It also equipped Siyeon with numbers of countless girls enamored with her strong voice and even more striking eyes.

Few knew that leather-clad fallen angel as someone who once spent a good ten minutes talking to a cat only for it to leave her in the dust.

"Now you're quiet and blushing," Handong's voice appears in between Bora's thoughts, a feat both appreciated and detested, "You're either sick or so floored by my beauty."

Bora chortles at Handong complimenting herself on her behalf, "The latter, definitely." 

"I knew it," Handong flips her hair with a playful smirk. It falls onto her bare shoulder, revealed by the shirt she is wearing because as smart as Handong is, the concept of cold seems foreign to her, "That explains everything."

“And what about you? Since when are you a tea person?” 

It’s not like Handong was an avid coffee drinker, leaving the title of a caffeinated freak to Siyeon and Yoohyeon every exam period. But Bora was desperate to grab at any straw of a potential topic change and saw an opportunity in the herbal potion filling Handong’s cup.

If Handong noticed, she didn’t let it be known.

(Handong not only noticed, but mercifully gave Bora the out herself.)

“Just trying new things,” she shrugs, “I got more into tea recently, my mom would be proud.”

Bora scoffs a bit, “Get that parental validation, Dongie, Lord knows it’s time one of us did.”

The air gets a bit lighter as Handong chuckles into her cup. They both have their wounds, some healed better than others, just pale lines of scar tissue on the history of their youth. Bora and Handong might have met after the turbulent years of troubled teenagehood were already behind them, but the type of solidarity between people forged in a similar fire cannot be underestimated.

“I’m going back for Christmas,” Handong announces. The steam from her tea fades into the air and she can almost imagine it reaching the sky where it could turn into a cloud and pour down on her mother’s garden.

Maybe zinnias would bloom thanks to the rain.

“China?” Bora inquires and decides to pour more milk into her coffee, “For the entire break?”

Handong nods, “I think so, yeah. I haven’t ca- haven’t come back in over a year, it’s about time I visited my parents.”

Bora wonders how that must feel. To have one’s family located in a different country, to navigate building a life elsewhere without losing the roots back home. With a busy schedule, limited hours per day, days per week, and weeks per month, Handong struggles to find opportunities to return home.

Not that Bora visits her family that often (she probably should do it soon), but the calls to her parents are domestic, her brother visits Seoul now and then, and in any crisis like sudden hospitalization or health deterioration, Bora can count on her parents coming over from Changwon sooner than the Hans could find a flight and reach the airport.

The loneliness of living among people with tongues programmed for a different set of sounds must be prevalent even for fluent speakers.

“Will you find some time to hang out before leaving?” 

“My, my, are you going to miss me?” Handong’s voice is teasing, but her teeth peek out from behind her lips because of how widely she is smiling.

Rain starts drumming behind the window and drowns out Bora’s half-hearted scoff. They are too old to pretend an opportunity to spend time with a dear friend is not one of the greatest treasures one can acquire. Or at least Bora is. Getting older day by day, barely registering the time passing through her fingers like dry sand in the hourglass of her youth.

Feels like just a moment ago she would come home to Yoohyeon surrounded by papers and scold them for not washing the coffee up. It could not have been more than two years since she and Minji were running around the playground and out of breath.

In reality they were only running out of time.

“Kidding,” Handong’s chuckle melts into a soft smile, “I’ll check our shift schedule and figure something out.”

Bora leaves the fields of the past to transport back to the bright coffee shop. Back to the present. She smiles back at Handong and takes a sip of her coffee.

Still not enough milk.

“Are we cooking or ordering in?” Yubin asks from behind the open fridge door. 

Minji takes an elastic out of her mouth and secures her hair with it. She leans to the side, so she can see the kitchen better, but there is no way to catch even a glimpse of Yubin aside from her legs. Her socks have pandas on them. Minji recognizes them as a birthday gift from her.

“I don’t think I have enough of anything for seven people,” she purses her lips, “We can get some chicken, Bora would probably love that.”

Yubin chuckles, “She will fight Siyeon for the last piece,”

“And Siyeon will give it to her willingly.” Minji finishes the thought, eyes twinkling with affection when she imagines her closest friends lighting up the room with their presence. Merely a few hours left and they will be here. Laughing, talking, and catching up on whatever they missed in one another’s lives.

While she enjoyed the freedom of living alone, especially in the new and bigger space to fill with memories, Minji longed for company. Not just any company, of course, the tight-knit circle that has been expanding over the years as new stars joined the little constellation. Wandering aimlessly through the void called life and bumping into one another before settling into a shared orbit. Minji’s heart swelled with love and affection for the five women who have entered her life at various points, starting in the trenches of adolescence and ending in the prime years of her young adulthood. 

Family. Connected by choice instead of blood, but family nonetheless.

Minji puts her finger through the ring resting against her chest. The chain restricts her range of motion, but she doesn’t mind, fiddling with it idly.

“We can order chicken like half an hour before everyone comes so that it doesn’t get cold,” Yubin muses, closing the fridge and opening a cabinet. Then she opens the one on its left, “I can make noodles,” she offers.

“That sounds nice,” Minji's mouth waters at the idea, “I’ll go buy some more if we want to feed all of us, though.”

Yubin stands on her toes to take a packet of noodles out of the cabinet. She looks at Minji with a playful grin, “Who says we’re going to share?”

**

“You truly are undefeatable.”

Yubin watches with fascination as Minji takes yet another bite of her buckwheat noodles. An old cliche preached that the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Well, men needed to step their game up, because Minji’s stomach seemed to be as bottomless as her heart. Sometimes Yubin thought that her friend required so much food because she needed to feed both. Loving as much as Minji did must have required strength and effort, even if it seemed to come to her effortlessly.

Love is always a choice, one made over and over again.

“I might eat yours too if you don’t hurry up,” Minji giggles. She has, in fact, nearly reached the end of her second serving, while Yubin is still going through the portion she initially put on her plate.

“Be my guest, I don’t think I will finish this anyway.”

Minji freezes with chopsticks by her mouth, mid-bite. She looks a bit ridiculous. Eyebrows in a frown, black eyes sparkling with questions, and unable to speak due to the food, Minji resembles a cartoon character. All that is missing is a question mark hovering over her head.

“Are you eating enough?” she asks after chewing and swallowing the bite that was way too big for her in the first place, “I know you kids don’t like cooking that much, but you need to eat properly.”

Yubin has known Minji for a few years now. She has seen her hair flaming with red, lustrously black, and now blooming pink. But one thing that never changed was the depth and sincerity of Minji’s care for the well-being of other people. 

One couldn’t neglect their health and exist within Minji’s vicinity without immediately being showered with questions. While Bora interrogated, Minji encouraged people to share their burdens with her. With open arms and heart, she was always prepared to take on a chunk of whatever could be bothering a person in need. Years spent with her parents, their warm embrace, and countless words of genuine support molded the young woman into someone caring shamelessly and unapologetically.

Oftentimes, Yubin would thank the universe for letting Minji be born in such a loving family.

“Nothing to worry about, unnie,” she reassures Minji and takes another bite of the noodles. Yubin can feel that she has around three bites left before she becomes uncomfortably full, “I had a late breakfast, still digesting it.

Minji seems satisfied with the answer and drops it. Having built credibility when it comes to transparency, Yubin manages to avoid the brunt of nagging that befalls everyone Minji cares about. For a good reason, actually, as Yubin firmly believes in the healthy body being the best vessel for a healthy mind and always recovers from periods of lacking self-care

There are other people in their friend group who need supervision, Yubin will take Minji’s affection without repaying her in worries.

“When did you become so grown up?” Minji pokes Yubin’s cheek with a chopstick that prompt gets smacked away. She laughs. The sun shines a bit brighter.

“You know I was an adult when we met, right?”

Minji shakes her head vehemently, “No, absolutely not. You were a tiny baby.”

“Okay, grandma.”

At the end of the day, everyone has their own truth either way. Minji’s is that she will always see Yubin as her adorable underclassman. Yubin’s is that she accepts it.

They go well together, they always have. Connected by a mutual love for tea and curiosity towards life, ending up with matching keychains by their book bags. Minji encouraged Yubin to share her brilliant inner world with the external one and Yubin taught Minji about the power of introspection. Between long talks in the kitchen and even longer walks by the river, they developed a bond unshaken by any potential calamity.

“Are we ready to witness the gay panic today?” Minji inquires playfully. Her hand reaches for Yubin's plate and the younger girl happily passes it over to her.

“Some of us have been witnessing it first hand,” Yubin rolls her eyes.

Yoohyeon has been gracing her with detailed descriptions of Gahyun’s mannerisms, her coffee order, and the intricacies of her ‘great scientific mind’ at which point Yubin grabbed her book and escaped into the confines of her room.

Minji giggles, “Oh, come on,” she reaches to poke Yubin's cheek with a chopstick again, “You know how it feels to have a crush.”

Yubin narrowly avoids the attack and scowls a little to Minji's absolute amusement, “I don't how it feels to be so pathetic about it.”

“That’s true, you're being very subtle, no, subtle is not the word.”

Dividing attention between the food and her friend requires concentration but Minji has never struggled with appreciating all the good things life has to offer.

Minji clicks her tongue, “It's not too obvious, but if it was me you were into, I would have caught on.”

“If I was into you, all I would have to do is ask you out.”

“True,” Minji finishes Yubin's plate with a satisfied sigh, “Isn't that the point, though? You like someone, you ask them out and if they like you too, they say yes.”

“The world sure would be filled with way less heartbreak if everyone thought this way,” Yubin pushes herself up and walks to the kitchen.

Minji shakes her head, “I'll never get why people can't just talk to each other.” 

Yubin appreciates how transparent everything about Minji is. The way she perceives the world, her outlook on relationships, the general approach that life should be lived and not waited for. Even the way she organizes her kitchen cabinets is straightforward to follow. Yubin locates her target almost immediately.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” she asks, looking through the packets of snacks stashed right next to various nuts and dried fruit. Minji likes her post-meal snacks and Yubin loves Minji, so she knows that.

The smile blooming onto Minji’s face is sweeter than either treat, “Strawberry,” she requests, “There should be cookies and cream there as well, if you want.”

“I already claimed it,” Yubin waves the packet in question and closes the cabinet, “And back to the topic, I think some people just prefer to yearn than get rejected.” 

Minji reaches her hand for the snack and opens it as soon as it touches her palm. She manages to tear through the foil just as Yubin sits back on the couch and rests her unopened packet on the coffee table, “This is so sad,” she muses, “I’d rather get rejected and try to move on.”

“What if it was a friend?” 

“ Especially if it was a friend,” Minji bites into the cookie and hums as its strawberry core melts over her tongue, “If they’re a friend, they won’t turn away from me for something I can’t control.”

The outlook Minji has on relationships sounds like the simplest approach in the entire world, Yubin realizes. She herself agrees with it, tries to connect with others as honestly as possible. However, it’s not that easy. Not to everyone at least. They both know many people who need to stew first, need to be certain before taking action, need to take every measure to protect themselves from getting hurt.

Not everyone prefers the direct pain of rejection over the slow and torturous process of silent yearning. Poison seeping through the sweetness of the loved one’s company.

“Sounds like you should pass your wisdom onto someone else,” Yubin suggests and Minji scoffs, barely able to keep the cookie in her mouth.

“Like I haven’t tried,” she huffs after chewing and swallowing, “She just stumbles over her words and gets all guarded.”

Yubin chuckles, “Yeah, she’s not very smooth about it,” she leans her head back against the couch, “But she actually admitted that she should take some action.”

Minji almost spits out her cookie, excitement sparkling in her eyes, “You’re kidding?! Is she going to ask her out?”

The trust Minji puts in her friends and their pathetic attempts at sorting their love lives out is truly endearing, Yubin cannot damp it too much,  “I wouldn't be too hasty,” she says diplomatically.

There is no way in hell Yubin could ever believe Siyeon to actually have the guts to risk even the smallest chance of losing her friendship with Bora, even if it gave her a way to escape the limbo they have found themselves in. Entangled in one another without the ability to call it what they truly want to be.

At least Yubin thinks they both want it to happen. She has never talked about it with Bora, famously guarded about her love life to the point when even Minji doesn’t know exactly what goes on in her best friend’s head.

But Yubin has eyes and they see the way Bora’s follow Siyeon around.

“Hopeless,” Minji sighs exaggeratedly. Despite loving all of them to death, her friends can be insufferable in their insistence to complicate their own lives,  “God bless I have you, Dam-dam. I need to surround myself with more functional people.”

“Happy to oblige,” Yubin raises her glass as if making a toast and Minji hurries to meet her half-eaten cookie with the glass’ side. It leaves a tiny sticky spot, but she pays it no mind, “There needs to be balance among us.”

Balance. Equal weights on the scale. Yin and yang. One might consider something balanced if the ratio of different aspects remains perfectly identical. Slices of pie distributed evenly between everyone at the table. But some people cannot digest more than half of what someone else can consider insufficient. Balance is not just about arranging several elements and calling it a day.

If it was that simple, more people would achieve it. 

“I wonder about Gahyun,” Minji licks the remaining strawberry jam from her fingers, “You think she’s a yearner or an action-taker?”

Yubin cannot tell she knows Gahyun that well. Sure, they have interacted a few times and even exchanged numbers in case either needed help, but they were far from proper friendship. Still, Yubin has a vague idea based on her observations and this is exactly what Minji wants to hear about.

They trust each other’s judgment even if the final opinion is theirs to form.

“She seems down to Earth, but that’s in class. Still, I would assume she takes chances if they’re worth it.”

Minji nods as she lets the information sink in, “Hopefully she will find Yoohyeon worth it.”

“According to Dongie, she might,” Yubin smirks a bit when she sees Minji’s ears perk up, “Or at least Dongie thinks it would be a good idea.”

“Well, Dongie tends to get what she wants, doesn’t she?” Another heartwarming smile appears on Minji’s face as she looks at Yubin with endearment.

Yubin smiles back, “She sure does.”

Afternoon turns into evening to the tune of two friends catching up on each other’s lives and exchanging excited theories about what the night will bring with the arrival of their friends and the new potential addition to the group.

Neither of them yet knows how Gahyun will impact their lives, not only in terms of the tragic-functional equinox. She doesn’t know it either, walking alongside Handong through the darkening streets of Seoul with newfound knowledge about transcendentalism fresh in her mind.

Chapter Text

When Yoohyeon arrives at Minji’s, she is greeted with disrespect.

“God, make it less obvious, please,” Bora cackles in passing.

A beer is already in her hand, laughter on her lips, and a spring in her step. Dirty blonde ponytail swishes behind her and almost smacks Yoohyeon in the face. Yoohyeon grumbles as she kicks her shoes off and places them neatly next to Yubin’s. 

Yes, they might have put more effort into their appearance today. While always aiming to maintain a cohesive form of aesthetic expression, Yoohyeon has days of increased attention to detail and their overall presentation. It can happen at random, a sudden surge of creativity in the morning that prompts them to experiment with clothing and patterns, or it can be caused by a factor pushing Yoohyeon to want to make an impression.

Hanging out with one’s crush is such a factor.

“You coming or what?”

With one last eyeroll, Yoohyeon passes the coat rack and steps into the main area of the apartment. Minji skips up to pull them into a hug and kiss their cheek, undoubtedly leaving a mark of pink lipstick behind, which Yoohyeon promptly wipes off. The hostess just giggles, unoffended. She rejoins Yubin in the kitchen, the younger girl giving Yoohyeon a wave, which they return. The two have seen each other in passing before their morning classes. No greetings needed. Yoohyeon pivots to the couch and pointedly ignores Bora’s grin. They leave an empty seat between the two of them to make a point. Not that it matters. Bora will get her way regardless, the resistance will only make her more obnoxious. 

“Pregaming?” Yoohyeon inquires, referring to the beer and wanting to prolong the peace. 

Bora grins, “Yubin brought some craft beer from work, and I wanted to make sure nobody snatched it from me.” 

She’s curled up on the couch, feet tucked underneath her thighs. Looking way too innocent and soft for someone capable of lunging at Yoohyeon for no reason other than her own amusement and entertainment. They stare at each other for a second, Bora smirking and Yoohyeon scowling for good measure. There is a clink in the kitchen. Yoohyeon breaks eye contact to look at Yubin. She’s holding a bottle of beer in her hand, raising it in question.

Yoohyeon hums, “Yes, please.” She glances at the flyer from Minji’s favorite fried chicken place, “What are we ordering?”

“Everything,” Minji answers solemnly, already by their side, always very serious about the matter of food.

“Ambitious, I like it.” Yoohyeon turns the flyer around to look at the menu despite knowing it by heart already. “Can we get fresh chilli?” 

“Is fresh chilli part of everything?”

“Uh, I would assume, yes.” 

Minji smiles and boops Yoohyeon’s nose, “Then we sure are getting it.” She twirls away and boops both Bora and Yubin on their noses for good measure as well. They let her. Everyone always lets Minji do whatever she wants. People see her and immediately cave into her every whim. Thankfully, Minji is too pure of heart to use her possibly world-ending power for evil.

The menu includes some seasonal specials, fairly promising in their flavor profile, but Yoohyeon’s thoughts remain glued to the glorious imagery of golden pieces of fried heaven breaded in chilli crust. So much better than the one coated in thick sweet chili sauce that Minji adores so much.

“How’s the essay?” Yubin inquires, ruining the daydream with the depressing heaviness of academic responsibility.

“It is not.”

Yubin nods at them and places the bottle on Minji’s bar-height counter without another word. 

“Don’t you have to hand it in soon?” Bora asks, always on top of everyone’s schedule.

Yoohyeon groans and looks around for a bottle opener. Minji points to the fridge where she can find one that doubles as a fridge magnet. It’s pink, shaped like a cartoon puppy, and very, very Minji. Yoohyeon gets up with a grunt to retrieve it.

“Yikes,” Bora raises her eyebrows when Yoohyeon doesn’t provide a coherent answer and follows them to the counter. The cap of the bottle hisses when it’s pried open, and the tired student takes a swig. It’s decent, a bit of a bitter edge to it that Yoohyeon does not care for, but doesn’t really mind. Beer is beer, there’s not much to it.

“Have you asked for an extension?” 

The temptation to stay silent and pretend the issue to be non-existent proves no match for Minji’s concern. Yoohyeon has to break their silence, “There’s still a lot of time, but considering I abandoned my initial topic,” she trails off, “Not good.” 

“What about the one you read in October? Hawk guy, red cover.” 

Yoohyeon furrows her brows, “Hawk g- Hawthorne?” 

Minji beams, “Say that again, American dream.”

Yoohyeon grumbles and hides the shy smile in the bottle, cheeks warming up. One thing that Minji found fascinating to no end was Yoohyeon’s pronunciation of English words, a skill they have been polishing for years. While Yoohyeon was proud of it as well, having a beautiful girl compliment it, especially in such a way, was not for the weak of heart.

“I thought about it,” Yoohyeon admits, willing the heat to fade away from her cheeks, “But I can’t quite single out one particular thread I’d like to pull on, and it all ended up messy.” 

“So what are your options?” 

“Crying myself to sleep. Can we change the subject?”

Bora slams her open palm against the counter, making everybody jump.  “Yes, we should!” she leans closer to Yoohyeon with an expression that makes them regret ever learning how to speak and every subsequent event that led to this very moment, “Can we please address the elephant in the room?” 

“Your roots?” Minji supplies with a smug grin that dissolves into a shriek when Bora reaches to pinch her side.

“Nope, the big fat gay crush,” Bora throws one last glare at her best friend and focuses her eyes on Yoohyeon.

Something has to be done. Fast.

“So about the essay!” Yoohyeon starts with panicked enthusiasm but gets shut down by a force way too powerful to be reckoned with. 

“Nuh uh,” Bora pokes her in the forehead, “What’s with the outfit? You’d never care that much if it was just us.” 

Yoohyeon huffs, “I would care even less if it was just you.” 

Unfortunately, Bora does not take the bait this time. She is on a mission, and the mission is Yoohyeon’s demise as per usual. 

“I think you look lovely,” Minji’s eyes sparkle with affection as she says that.

As out of character as the outfit might be for her, Yoohyeon likes what she sees as well. She found a striped openwork sweater in the back of her closet a while ago, yellow and blue, very simple but more striking than what Yoohyeon usually goes for on a random Tuesday. She decided to pair it with a denim skirt, which is baffling in itself, because while Yoohyeon likes skirts and dresses quite a bit, there is a very specific set of circumstances that need to be fulfilled for her to feel fully comfortable in one.

“Thank you,” Yoohyeon smiles at Minji and then narrows her eyes at Bora, “See? This is a friend. Supportive. Caring. Loving.”

“And what am I, huh?”

Yoohyeon huffs, “A gremlin.”

This time, they can’t dodge the attack fully and have to stumble off the stool when Bora all but throws herself at them. Yoohyeon yelps in protest, hoping for someone to save her, but Yubin only takes the bottle away to prevent it from getting knocked over, and Minji chuckles. The two friends begin a peaceful conversation of their own, something about the newest album of a singer they both listen to. As if Yoohyeon wasn’t fighting for their life as the yelling goblin tries to steal their soul.

“Come here and suffer the consequences!” Bora booms and lunges forward.

“Absolutely not!”

Yoohyeon takes advantage of her longer limbs and dashes for the couch, hoping to put a barrier between them and buy some time. What she doesn’t account for is Bora being positively insane. The older girl unceremoniously dashes over the back of the couch to Yoohyeon’s horror and tackles her, bringing them both down to the couch in a mess of tangled limbs and shrieks of protest. 

“Get off!” Yoohyeon shoves at her friend in a desperate attempt to break away from the annoyingly strong grip.

“Never!”

They could call Minji and Yubin for help, not that they would listen. Technically, sure, if either of them thought Yoohyeon minded Bora’s antics. But they could see through the act immediately and left Yoohyeon to die on the couch under the load of affection disguised as fighting that Bora has been subjecting them to for a long time now.

Yoohyeon misses it more than ever and wants to savor it. Not that she would ever say it.

Only when Bora’s hand ruffles her hair does Yoohyeon protest and whine. She opted to put it in braids today, weaved the strands for so long that it made her arms sore, and several breaks were required. The idea of the braids becoming ruined in any way gives Yoohyeon enough motivation to fight back.

Not that it helps much. Bora is stronger than them by a long shot, matched only by Handong.

Bora’s victorious cackling and Yoohyeon’s shrieking prevent her from hearing the buzzer. The click of the lock also gets drowned out by the commotion of what could only be described as a fight between humanity and pure evil. At least in Yoohyeon’s humble and incredibly biased opinion.

“Nothing new, I see,” comes a soft comment somewhere from behind the couch, which Yoohyeon barely registers. Bora’s long ponytail obscures the view, and Yoohyeon only prays in horror that the newcomer isn’t Gahyun. It’s not the most flattering way to present oneself to their crush. 

Bora, however, recognizes the voice almost immediately and reacts. Shooting up from where she is pinning Yoohyeon to the couch, she searches with her eyes until she finds a fixed point, and her face splits into a wide grin.

“Ow, ow, ow, oh my God, get off!” Yoohyeon complains and smacks at Bora’s hand, currently pressing their braid to the couch, the pulling sensation way too unbearable to withstand. Finally, Bora slips off their body with one final flick to the forehead that earns her a scowl. 

Before Yoohyeon can retaliate, Bora’s ponytail swishes on her way back to the kitchen. She will be dealt with later, Yoohyeon decides. When she least expects it.

Defeated, Yoohyeon sits back up on the couch. Chest heaving from the futile fight, cheeks flushed due to yelling, and hair a mess because of the demon pestering her, Yoohyeon locks eyes with a very amused Siyeon.

“You good there?” she asks with a small smile. 

Siyeon drowns in a black shirt of some band Yoohyeon doesn’t recognize, at least not with a thick knitted cardigan swallowing it pretty much entirely. She has glasses on, which is a rarity, but makes her look adorable. Adorable, cozy, and visibly less structured than Yoohyeon.

Maybe the outfit was a mistake after all. With Siyeon shrouded in shapeless black fabric, Bora wearing a simple gray turtleneck, and Yubin all cozy in one of her flannels, Yoohyeon feels overdressed. Sure, Minji looked like a true high-fashion enthusiast as usual, and so would Dong, most likely. Not that it was any consolation. They both made the most stunning of outfits look perfectly casual.

“Bora better sleep with one eye open,” Yoohyeon grumbles, pulling at the skirt so that it returns to its proper shape.

Siyeon chuckles, a weird but endearing sound. Everything about her was just that, weird or endearing, most hitting the sweet spot between both in a way that only she could pull off. 

“What was that?” Bora demands. Her hands are fortunately occupied by the task of putting her hair back up into a ponytail as the first one ended up all tousled from the scuffle with Yoohyeon, “You don’t wanna start with me again, kid.”

“You started it!” Yoohyeon blows a strand of hair from their face with a pout.

Siyeon just watches them with an amused expression, eyes flicking from Yoohyeon to Bora. She likes it, observing. Soaking up every bit of the love lingering in the air. They know Siyeon doesn’t do well with loneliness but stubbornly insists on living on her own to get used to self-sufficiency. So they all show her extra gentle affection whenever they can. Like now, Siyeon wraps an arm around Bora’s waist, pulling her closer, and Bora complies. Lets Siyeon lean her head against Bora’s hip. When the ponytail is secured, Bora’s hand falls to Siyeon’s head, and her fingers lightly scratch at her scalp.

Like Gahyun said, some people truly are living a better life. Yoohyeon smiles.

“Ooooh, someone is thinking about their crush,” Bora coos obnoxiously, making Siyeon flinch from the volume and then snuggle her head further into the gray sweater. Yoohyeon flushes crimson despite having done anything wrong, incriminating herself immediately. 

“Tell me more about her, tell me more about her!” Minji chants from the kitchen and reaches to open the fridge. She takes out a beer for herself and some orange juice for Yubin, Yoohyeon assumes.

They huff and focus their eyes on Siyeon’s sweater, “There’s nothing to tell.”

There is a whole lot to tell. Despite only having met recently and sharing a table for a whooping total of several hours, Yoohyeon has already collected an entire library of details regarding Gahyun. The habit of furrowing her eyebrows at a particularly challenging equation, her affinity for sugary coffee, the curves of her handwriting, and the fact that she keeps a hair tie on her pocket calendar. Dislike for soy milk and ambivalence towards heavy cream. 

Her smile, her eyes, her soft sweaters, and even softer cheeks.

“I’m so happy I’m not a mindreader,” Bora groans, “You are beyond saving.” 

“Fuck you.”

Yoohyeon cannot argue that their face responds to thoughts about Gahyun immediately; they can feel it. The smile tugging at the corners of their lips, the pupils dilating, and the bottom lip ending up between their teeth instinctively as if to prevent lovesick giggling from escaping. Trying to downplay it would be hopeless. Yoohyeon is an open book with an even more open heart. Always has been. They like it, even when it becomes the subject of a plethora of loving teasing. Especially then, not that they would admit it.

“I think it’s cute,” Siyeon supplies, always a source of comfort. Yoohyeon meets her eyes and receives a reassuring smile that she returns immediately. The glasses keep sliding down Siyeon’s nose, making her look disarmingly adorable.

“It’s absolutely precious and I need more details!” Minji’s insistence never wavers. The cap of her beer pops off with a satisfying hiss and joins a glass jar full of others similar to it. “Come on, I already know she’s top of her class, very smart, likes chocolate, doesn’t have siblings, interns at some IT company-”

“Wait, what? I didn’t know that.”

Bora shoots her a look, “Too busy gawking at her to listen to what she has to say?”

Yoohyeon sticks their tongue out at her.

“She listens to IU and Girls’ Generation,” Siyeon adds, eyes barely open due to the bliss caused by Bora’s gentle touch. She looks like a satisfied cat.

Yubin nods sagely, “As she should.”

It seems like everybody has something to say about Gahyun, despite absolutely nobody mentioning her even once before today. Yoohyeon has no clue how she managed to remain oblivious to Handong’s roommate for so long.

“And how do you know that?” 

Siyeon shrugs, “She has a pin on her backpack, I asked her about it once.”

“What? When?!” 

“She was leaving class and I saw it, so I asked,” Siyeon shrugs, “Her bias is Taeyeon and her favorite song is Genie .

Yubin nods, “Oh, yeah, I was there.”

“Good choice!” Minji, a fellow Girls’ Generation enthusiast, praises.

Only Bora stays quiet. She approaches Yoohyeon and ignores their whining as she pulls the hair tie off one of the braids. Yoohyeon gives up. Lets her do her thing. There is no way they could fix the braids themself, and Bora’s nails running across their scalp bring her closer to redemption in Yoohyeon’s eyes.

Even if Bora does not have anything to add about the brilliant and wonderful person named Gahyun. Handong’s roommate. Intern at a prestigious company. One of the top students in the entire program. Black coffee hater and chocolate lover.

Yoohyeon cannot wait to learn more. To catch glimpses of Gahyun that reach beyond the collection of facts that can be gathered during a five-minute conversation. She wants to know more than Gahyun’s coffee order, she wants to be there when she finds her new favorite. Wants to see the euphoria when she cracks a particularly challenging math problem. Hear every kind of her laugh and elicit ones that few have ever heard. Be the person in the room who has the most to say.

Looking between her friends, Yoohyeon sighs, “Hang on, so you all know her?” 

She gets mixed reactions, some nods, some headshakes, and a whole lot of noise, which does not help in the slightest. Words jumble together like rambunctious children on a sugar high.

“I only heard some things, but she sounds lovely,” Minji vibrates with enthusiasm, ever the social butterfly, “I can’t wait to meet her!” 

Despite it being December with all its gloom covering the world from early afternoon, Minji radiates sunshine, seemingly harboring it in her heart and blessing the world with its brilliance one smile at a time. She never runs out of it. The warmth bounces off the walls, gets tangled in all the memorabilia and paraphernalia, making this apartment a home. It sticks to their cheeks like a featherlike kiss and returns to Minji, allowing her to keep spreading it around without even a second break.

“She’s cool, Yoohyeon seems to like her,” Yubin shrugs as she pours a little rum into a glass to start Siyeon off with a light cocktail.

Bora snorts, “That’s one way to put it.”

Yoohyeon wants to jab her in the side, but Bora predicts the move and tugs on her hair as a warning. She calls her a brat under her breath but Yoohyeon calls her a bitch, so they’re even.

“But not just the crush thing. They actually like her as a person,” Yubin squeezes some lime in and passes the glass to Siyeon, who smiles at her, biting on the straw as she does. Then Yubin turns to Yoohyeon, “Would you like to be her friend if you weren’t into her?”

Would they? Yoohyeon thinks about sitting next to Gahyun in the coffee shop, notes spread around them, coffee turning cold, and the familiar chatter softly buzzing in the background. And although it is nearly impossible to imagine not getting flustered at Gahyun’s knees knocking into her own, Yoohyeon thinks of being near her for hours, focused on the keyboard instead of how light reflects in Gahyun’s hair and smiles nonetheless. Crush or no crush, Yoohyeon adores having a study buddy who matches her energy.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding, and Bora scolds her for moving her head, “I would.”

Yubin shrugs, “Well, there you go.” 

She fixes the collar of her shirt that got caught in her hair. It has gotten long, Yoohyeon notices, remembering how not so long ago her roommate’s hair barely reached her collarbones. Minji reaches out to give her a hair tie, always in tune with her friends’ needs.

“See, she trusts Yubin to handle her own damn hair,” Yoohyeon grumbles, because it’s only fair.

Bora deliberately pulls on another strand, “Can you handle your own damn hair?”

No, they absolutely cannot. Bora possesses the dexterity in her fingers that makes her excel at all kinds of handiwork, sewing, drawing, decorating, and braiding the hair of her less fortunate friends. Meanwhile, Yoohyeon can rarely gather all their hair into a ponytail without missing at least one stray strand that later irritates the back of their neck.

“Back to Gahyun,” Minji claps her hands. One could think she was already drunk with the way she bounces in her seat, eyes sparkling and corners of her lips continuously up. But that’s just Minji being Minji. Surrounded by people she cherishes as deeply as their little group and feeding off the positive energy, “I need more details! Singnie, what you got?”

All eyes turn to Siyeon, who managed to zone out within these few seconds. With eyes wide open from the sudden attention and cheeks flushed, she stammers and giggles at herself, taking as big a sip of her rum and coke as the straw allows.

“Yeah, Sing, since when are you a cougar?” Bora jokes and gets her hand tangled in Yoohyeon’s hair, making her hiss.

Siyeon blushes furiously and chokes on her drink, “I am not !” she complains and glares at Bora, which is difficult to take seriously as her lips pout around the straw and cheeks puff out, “I mean, she is very cute and pretty, but anyone can see that.”

Yoohyeon feels Bora's fingers dig into her scalp. Her friend doesn’t say anything, just keeps weaving strands of gray hair together as the braids appear again, looking much neater than the ones Yoohyeon made herself earlier after a tedious hour in front of the mirror. The occasional roughness, while slightly painful, doesn’t ruin the effect.

“So she’s pretty, smart, funny, and gets that coin,” Minji summarizes thoughtfully.

“And listens to Girls’ Generation,” Yubin recalls.

Minji nods and leans her head back, making pink waves cascade beautifully. Tipping the drink, she lets the foam fall into her mouth and puts the empty glass on the counter, “Marry her.”

Yoohyeon decides not to participate in the following conversation, too flustered and adamant on not letting the embarrassment show too much. Her friends discuss their expectations for the evening and exchange updates from their busy lives. Even Bora eventually rejoins the conversation, snapping out of the laser-like focus on Yoohyeon’s hair. 

She places one braid on each of Yoohyeon’s shoulders and leaves a sloppy kiss on their cheek. Just to be annoying. Yoohyeon complains, but Bora is already by the fridge, grabbing another beer when the doorbell rings, and Minji bounces away to buzz the newcomers in.

“Your girlfriend is here,” Bora throws from behind the metal door, “Careful or Siyeon might steal her away.” 

The slight bite in Bora’s words flies over Yoohyeon’s head as all bodily processes halt in favor of the pounding of her heart.

Gahyun is here.

**

“Bora is loud, but someone has to keep up with you.”

Handong bursts into melodious laughter as Gahyun shoves her. They are climbing the stairs to Minji’s apartment, which is on the fourth floor in a building that has no elevator. The clicking of Handong’s heeled boots echoes through the staircase as she briskly walks up.

Gahyun grunts, “Are we in a rush?” she wheezes out, barely keeping up with her longer-legged and way more fit friend.

“I do not trust these heathens not to have used my prosecco as a mixer.” 

For someone working in a coffee shop and renting an apartment with a roommate, Dong sure carries herself as if her net worth matched the royal family. In her black trench coat, glimmering earrings, and platinum waves swishing with every move, she looks like a million dollars. 

“So Bora and Minji have been friends for ages, but Siyeon was Minji’s roommate,” Gahyun repeats for what feels like a hundredth time.

Dong hums in confirmation, “And Yubin, they all lived together. We’ve been over this so many times. It’s not a project, you don’t need to memorize all of that.” She flips her hair and glances back, “It’s not that serious.”

Gahyun begs to differ. She is about to enter an apartment filled with five near-strangers who are her roommate’s best friends and have been an incredibly tight group for years, with connections that run deeper than most Gahyun has made in her life. Sure, she’s had a class with Yubin but they never got past casual acquaintanceship, a fact Gahyun regrets deeply now. Laser focus on equations and statistics made her ace the exams and secure the internship but maybe it wasn’t worth the potential awkwardness now. Maybe she should have talked to the cool girl who was the only other person as early to class as she was. Maybe she should have kept the conversation going once a striking upperclassman with dark makeup asked about her favorite music artists.

While nobody could have predicted that, the far-reaching consequences of neglecting her social life are a bitter pill to swallow for such a high achiever.

Sensing the discomfort laced through the heavy silence, Dong stops on the last landing and turns to Gahyun, who almost bumps into her, lost in thought. She tilts her head, dark eyes scan the girl in front of her, making Gahyun freeze under the scrutiny of the gaze that peels off layers of things untold. Not like a bulldozer through a wall, more like a nimble lockpick disarming a safe.

“They’re nice, I promise,” Handong isn’t teasing for once, the mischievous sparkle in her eye mellowed into a warm comforting flame, “You know Yoohyeon already, you study together all the time.” 

Thinking about her new study partner stokes the embers of confidence in Gahyun but the fire doesn’t catch just yet, shaky and uncertain. Sure, they got along well in a one-on-one setting, filling the silences with notetaking and idle textbook flipping. Exchanging coffee orders and humorous quips, the two slowly built a foundation for what could become a more profound connection. Maybe even a friendship. Still, taking it out of their cozy bubble at Somnia into a larger group of Yoohyeon’s actual friends would probably end up being a reality check that Gahyun expected but didn’t need.

They could hang out on their own time, over open notebooks and steaming cups of coffee. 

“Just let Minji do her thing; she is great at making people feel at home.” 

Handong’s smile turns soft, possessing a certain gentleness, Gahyun sees rarely, used to more push and pull displays of affection, the warmth shining through the cracks of endless teasing. There seems to be more history there than she expected. The thought makes Gahyun realize that despite her meticulous research, she knows little about Handong’s involvement with the other five. 

“And you can always talk to Yubin.”

Gahyun perks up immediately and Handong smirks at the sight, knowing she nipped it in the bud, which Gahyun chooses to ignore. She has almost forgotten about the objective for tonight. The nerves melt away, giving place to the urge right under Gahyun’s skin. The need and desire have been there for a while now.

“Okay, let's go,” Gahyun says, starting to climb up the remaining stairs as her roommate follows with a chuckle.

Minji turns out to be everything Handong claimed her to be and more, escaping any confines of description. There seems to be no words capable of encapsulating the vibrancy and brilliance of her presence, even the writers described in Yoohyeon’s notebook would struggle to do so. Nobody could capture the essence of a dazzling woman with rosy hair and twinkling eyes, pulling a virtual stranger into a hug like an old friend. Before Gahyun shook off the daze brought upon her by citrus perfume, she was being ushered into the living room.

“Everyone is here, it’s time to party!” Minji spins and reaches for a heavy-looking bottle. “What are you drinking?” 

The contrast between her sweet voice and the bottle of whisky in her hand proves quite impressive, especially since the woman is donned out in all black with a flowy see-through shirt tucked into a pair of tight jeans but acts as someone who should be wrapped in tulle and flowers. 

Gahyun looks around for Handong, searching for the familiar anchor but the blonde has already sauntered away to the kitchen area where Yubin presents her with the precious bottle of prosecco that she kept chilled and protected from any thieves. The two seem to be deep in conversation already, Dong’s hand fixing Yubin’s hair as they search through Minji’s cabinets. Probably for a suitable glass as Dong refuses to drink out of anything but a proper container.

“Give me that,” comes a demand somewhere from behind. Gahyun flinches but the short woman with blonde hair and enough energy to overcharge an electric circuit strides up to Minji, who raises the bottle out of her reach, earning an outraged shriek that threatens to shatter the glass.

So that’s Bora. Gahyun remembers seeing her behind the counter at the coffee shop but the professional demeanor of the pleasantries they exchanged is a far cry from her current volume and Handong’s stories about the woman. Transfixed on the two wrestling over the bottle, Gahyun feels out of place in the interaction. Despite Minji’s welcoming spirit emanating from every corner, something about Bora by her side makes a glass dome appear over the two. Something impenetrable, unbreakable. Exclusive.

Gahyun shifts in place, uncomfortable. Debates between joining Dong and Yubin, and awkwardly observing the bickering best friends. God, she needs a drink.

“Don’t mind the chaos, just embrace it.”

The comment prompts Gahyun to turn towards the familiar voice, her current salvation. Yoohyeon stands by the couch with a small smile. Behind her hovers Siyeon, looking at Gahyun with so much shyness that it settles her own nerves, “Is it always like this?”

“Yes,” the answer is quick and deadpan, the delivery makes Gahyun laugh and Yoohyeon smiles back at her, the goofy and self-satisfied smile that always makes its way onto their face when their joke lands.

Maybe some bubbles extend past familiar settings.

“They’re so lovable, though, you’ll see,” Yoohyeon turns and motions for Siyeon to come closer, which she sheepishly does. Gahyun perks up at the chance to talk to someone without Dong holding her by the hand. She doesn’t get to as Bora’s loud voice pierces through the room again and urges Siyeon to join the two by the counter. Gahyun watches her awkwardly shuffle away and let the shorter woman wrap her in a strong embrace. 

“Well,” Gahyun trails off.

Yoohyeon chuckles dryly, “They might be lovable but will ditch you for whisky in a second.” 

The blush on Siyeon’s face makes a more compelling case for Yoohyeon getting ditched for reasons other than strong liquor, especially since only Bora and Minji fill their glasses while Siyeon melts into Bora’s hold. Gahyun chooses not to point it out, content with the turn of events. She finds it easier when it’s just the two of them.

“I know the pain. My roommate ditched me to sip on champagne and pretend she’s better than everyone else.” 

Like clockwork, powered by what could only be described as sorcery, said roommate saunters past them. Stops for a second and raises a brow at the comment, “First of all, this is prosecco,” she informs with a dainty tap on her flute glass filled with the liquor in question, “Knowing the difference is just one of the reasons why I am better than all of you.” 

Minji overhears and laughs, raising her glass to Dong’s brazen confidence. Handong winks and then scowls at Bora when the latter tells Minji not to encourage someone with such an already inflated ego. 

They work in sync, complementing each other in a myriad of ways. Actions prompt reactions that follow one another in a sequence, perfectly falling into place with no margin for error. It’s natural, it’s predictable. Yoohyeon’s unamused expression shows no sign of surprise at the events. They’re used to this. But Gahyun isn’t. She finds this wildly confusing. Thrown into what is normal to the six women and completely unknown to her, Gahyun tries to find her footing.

“Same difference,” Yoohyeon rolls her eyes. They ignore the second part of what Dong said and it makes Gahyun like them even more. Not everyone can restrain from giving in to Handong’s endless game in which she comes out on top regardless of circumstances. Gahyun herself struggles with that.

Handong is already settled in Minji’s green armchair, one leg over the other and fingers wrapped around the glass. What she clearly thinks to be heresy does not get dignified with an answer.

“She’s right,” Yubin calls from the kitchen. Before her spreads an array of bottles, Minji’s collection is way more extensive than anyone would expect of a person in her twenties, “Dong. They’re different things.”

While Yoohyeon contests the significance of said difference, Gahyun notices the intricacy of their braids. She wonders if one of the girls helped them out. Yoohyeon could barely hold a pen without it slipping out of their grasp every once in a while. No wonder they preferred the sturdiness of a keyboard. 

Bora and Siyeon seem to be deep in their own little world, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls, a state Gahyun strays away from but would welcome right now. The familiarity of it seems so compelling. Just like the easy flow of conversation between Yubin and Minji who gave up on lecturing Yoohyeon about the sophisticated details of sparkling wines in favor of mixing some red concoction that looks daunting yet intriguing. Pulling Gahyun in with the ease of how the pair works together. Or maybe it’s just the need to get tipsy and stop being so uptight.

“We’re uncultured, I guess,” Yoohyeon huffs. 

Gahyun finds herself smiling. Admires how casual Yoohyeon is in the face of making what some would consider a social blunder or at least a display of lack of knowledge. “We should just go home, honestly.” 

Her joke gets registered by Minji and the hostess gasps in offense. The stars in her eyes twinkle over Yubin’s shoulder, the younger woman juicing a lemon without paying much attention to her friend clinging to her like a koala. Gahyun wouldn’t have expected Yubin to be this affectionate. Maybe she didn’t mind being held as long as she could continue whatever she was doing in peace. Neither minding nor appreciating the clinginess. Good with it, just as fine without it.

“Bin is making shots!” Minji snuggles her cheek against the flannel shirt. Cuddly and adorable, like a teddy bear. Exactly like Handong said.

Gahyun looks at her roommate who decided to partake in the bigger party in the kitchen. The champagne flute is empty, all bubbles coursing through Handong’s bloodstream. She saunters past them and throws a wink at Yoohyeon. 

A frown appears on Gahyun’s face before she realizes, “What was that?” 

Yoohyeon looks caught, the pink hue on her cheeks setting a slight alarm in Gahyun’s head. There is no way Yoohyeon would be interested in Handong, right? She would have noticed. Handong would have noticed as well, being scarily accurate at reading such frequencies.

“You know,” Yoohyeon clears their throat, “Just Dong being Dong.” 

It does little to convince Gahyun. Makes her shuffle a bit at the unexpected disturbance. A factor outside comprehension. Despite being one of the people she’s familiar with, Yoohyeon proves difficult to read. Maybe it’s because they don’t try to hide anything. On display and up for grabs. All there is to do is reach. Gahyun should do just that: ask a little, poke around. 

She doesn’t. Leaves the social meddling to Dong and sticks to the facts. Yoohyeon is not a project but a potential friend.

Yoohyeon giggles nervously and points to the kitchen, “Shots?” 

Gahyun smiles at them. Marvels at how simple it is. Not like solving an equation, finding answers based on provided data but still stimulating. Like a Sudoku puzzle.

“Come on, I’m not getting any younger!” Bora calls from the kitchen. Impatient, that one.

“Wouldn’t brag about that,” Yoohyeon shoots back. The flame in Bora’s eyes makes Gahyun send a prayer for Yoohyeon. On the other hand, she looks forward to seeing it play out.

They all take a shot. Lemon, elderflower and a twinge of something Gahyun doesn’t recognize. Minji and Handong return to the armchair, the elder plopping herself into Dong’s lap. This leaves Gahyun and Yoohyeon with Siyeon and Bora. The initial awkwardness dissolves slowly over time. Siyeon compliments Gahyun’s eyeshadow and how it matches the blouse she’s wearing. Gahyun knows. She wore it for that exact purpose and having it noticed makes her beam. Especially when Bora jumps on the praise and mentions liking Gahyun’s hair color.

“Do you like it, Yooh?” she asks her tall friend. Her voice is sweet, more so than Gahyun would expect and it throws her off a bit.

Yoohyeon seems not to be used to it as well. If their clenched jaw is anything to judge by. Gahyun does the same when Handong acts in that obnoxious way that she claims to be adorable but Gahyun finds infuriating.

They don’t get to answer as Siyeon almost knocks a bottle down and causes a commotion. Thankfully, Yubin is there to catch it and Bora steadies Siyeon but not without laughing at her clumsiness. The dome above them grows its glass walls again. Gahyun wonders if it’s something Bora does on purpose or just so happens to.

The exclusivity of it feels elusive but tempting. Gahyun finds herself unwillingly pondering how to protect herself from being outside and looking in. Feels like a hassle, a trial and error but mostly a trial. Not knowing much about Bora, she can’t tell if the payoff is worth it.

One shot in and Gahyun turns judgmental, maybe a drink was not a good idea.

“Okay, away from the glass,” Yubin orders with a chuckle but something tells Gahyun that she’s not joking.

Thank God someone thinks clearly around here.

Bora and Siyeon stumble out of the kitchen, arms around each other and loud laughs on their lips. They are like a collective. A mess of limbs, carefree quips and seemingly endless amounts of affection that spills out of them in massive quantities. And they’re loud. Siyeon came out of her shell the second Bora pushed her into some bizarre conversation and now the previously timid girl reached levels of decibels matching Bora herself. 

“Food will be here soon,” Yubin tells them and Yoohyeon does a little cheer, “Get out of the kitchen.”

Gahyun snorts at the bluntness and Yoohyeon pouts at Yubin but follows the order, Gahyun trailing behind her. She is starting to feel like a lost puppy.

“Nobody respects me here,” Yoohyeon complains, “Time to go.” 

“Yeah? Where would you go?” 

Yoohyeon, being Yoohyeon, ponders for a moment, “It depends. I could go home, obviously but where’s the fun in that? Somewhere warm, preferably.”

“That’s vague.” Gahyun points out.

“The question was vague to begin with,” Yoohyeon argues, “What about you? Where would you go?”

Gahyun blinks. She didn’t expect the question to bounce back, “Not sure. Even if I wanted to leave, it’s way too cold outside.”

“And you make fun of my answer,” Yoohyeon teases, “Also, if you wanna go home at any point, you can hitch a ride in Minji’s car.”

Gahyun’s eyes move to the pink-haired girl in Handong’s lap, more specifically to the shot glass in her hand. It’s full again. Not that it lasts long as the liquid disappears down Minji’s throat in a smooth motion, “Yeah, no thanks.”

The puzzled expression on Yoohyeon’s face turns into one of realization once they follow Gahyun’s gaze. Their eyes turn big and they snort.

“Oh God no, Minji just lends the car, Yubin drives.” 

Yoohyeon’s amusement makes them louder and catches the attention of the girl in question. Yubin raises her head and throws Gahyun a peace sign before returning to mixing a cocktail for Bora, pink and orange swirling in the glass. Gahyun watches her for a few seconds and tries to remember whether Yubin took a shot. “Yubin doesn’t drink?”

Yoohyeon shakes their head, “Nah, but she’s the best at mixing.” 

“That’s an interesting combination.” 

“She works where Minji used to work.” 

Gahyun cracks a smile, finding great entertainment in the confusion in Yoohyeon’s eyes that only grows more prominent with every passing second of silence.

“What?”

“I don’t know where Minji used to work,” Gahyun points out and tilts her head.

Yoohyeon narrows her eyes, clearly having figured out that Gahyun is making fun of her.

Thankfully, Yoohyeon does not let things like that get to her. Raised with three siblings and having lived with Bora, she is well accustomed to banter and teasing. Especially when Gahyun made sure to throw it softly, no traces of insult in sight. Just for good measure. They’re both in on the joke and Yoohyeon is the last person to mind it being at her expense.

It works. They’re both laughing and it feels liberating to be comfortable enough to joke around this way.

“Right,” Yoohyeon chuckles at herself and swiftly rushes to explain, “Minji worked at this bar before she got employed at Polaris.” 

“Sure did!” Minji supplies happily and reaches her shot glass out to Yubin for a refill, “Left some broken hearts when I quit but Yubin takes good care of them for me.”

Yubin crosses the room with a bottle of raspberry vodka in hand. She rolls her eyes at the praise, probably considering it exaggerated. Gahyun has picked up that Yubin is rather humble but proves no match to Minji, who always seems ready to hype her friends up. 

Clear red liquid flows into the shot glass, stopping right at the brim before the bottle gets taken away and a brilliant smile appears on Minji’s face, “See?” she beams, “Such a professional.” 

As Yubin joins the two cuddling in the armchair, sitting on the couch across from them, Gahyun watches the conversation blossom. She can stare freely, none of the three paying her any attention, so she takes advantage of the situation.

She doesn’t notice the eyes on her, nor the gears turning in an already anxious mind.

**

“Could you be less of a stereotype, please?” Bora teases Siyeon when she asks Yubin to prepare rainbow shots.

“I just like the colors, leave me alone.”

The night has progressed, the moon perched high in her favorite spot. Overlooking the city and sharing her silvery blessings with all night owls still awake. Seven friends are seated around Minji’s kitchen table, having just finished the abundance of chicken to the point of barely being able to move. 

Some of them, at least, the three eldest possess endless energy after getting some nutrition.

Bora gasps in mock offense, “You banish me? Away from your glorious self that I adore so much? Whatever shall I do now?”

Across from them, Handong mutters something into Minji’s ear, which sends the older girl into a fit of laughter. The armchair houses them perfectly. Yoohyeon looks at them, Handong’s hand tracing patterns on Minji’s back over her black shirt, Minji’s fingers playing with platinum hair. There is an aura of familiarity to it all. Implicit intimacy painted in shared looks, gentle touches and the way their bodies fit together. 

Minji whispers something back and they giggle again, glasses clinking together in a toast known only to the two of them. Shot glass against a champagne flute. Vodka and prosecco. Boldness softened by raspberry and the sophistication of twinkling bubbles.

Yoohyeon sometimes cannot help but analyze the way their group pairs up during gatherings. Maybe it’s the literature student in them, always on the lookout for threads connecting different statements and secret meanings lingering between the verses. 

Sometimes it’s Yubin and Siyeon quietly discussing a new game they found and Handong not letting Bora liv,e while Minji and Yoohyeon make fun of them. Other times, the two oldest childhood friends reminisce over their shared adventures to the accompaniment of Siyeon and Yoohyeon’s comments, and Yubin and Handong’s amusement.

They work, no matter how you mix them. In a way, their little group is like the rainbow shots, not only because of their group average on a Kinsey scale oscillating around four. A mix of different flavors and colors, just like the ones Yubin pours into six of the seven glasses standing in a row.

Seven.

With Gahyun entering their group, Yoohyeon cannot help but get a little protective of the new addition to the group, who turns it into an odd number, especially with how shy Gahyun is acting. Sure, Yoohyeon enjoys the way Gahyun gravitates towards her, they bask in it, really, but they also sincerely hope she will find it in herself to bond with the rest of the group.

“Thank you!” Siyeon calls out as Yubin hands her a rather tall glass of water, which seems like a good idea considering how the girl’s volume control has gone off the rails.

“She’s thoughtful,” Gahyun points out and Yoohyeon’s thoughts return to their previous train of thought.

Right. That is also happening tonight.

Gahyun said it passively, without much thought behind it, because, yes, every person with basic cognitive comprehension can tell that Yubin is an extraordinarily thoughtful individual and a great friend. However, someone more observant will pick up on the way Gahyun’s gaze has been following Yubin even before. Studying her moves, taking note of her actions even in moments when Yubin was not center stage in the gathering (so most of the time, Yubin thrives in the background).

It’s not obsessive, it’s not peculiar in any way. It is, however, an incredibly alarming sight to someone having a raging crush who would rather be the one on the other side of that gaze.

Said someone should also probably respond in any way to the comment presented to them.

“Yeah,” Yoohyeon says, reaching peaks of verbal expression, “For sure.”

Good lord, no wonder she can’t finish the essay.

The answer seems to satisfy Gahyun, who nods and continues watching the group claiming the colors of their shots of choice. Yoohyeon can’t help but notice that Gahyun is watching Yubin in particular. Follows her with big brown eyes as the girl steps away from her clamoring friends with the leftover shot glass and fills it with cranberry juice to complete the rainbow with deep crimson.

Yoohyeon is used to Yubin’s prowess with liquor, glass, and garnish. They have seen her fill Bora’s glass while the latter was gesturing rather vigorously and without a single drop getting wasted. Impressive, especially to someone as clumsy as Yoohyeon. Definitely a spectacle worth witnessing every single time. 

Today it just reminds Yoohyeon of their own lack of motion coordination.

Yubin holds the glass and patiently waits for the commotion to settle, giving Gahyun plenty of time to watch her. Yoohyeon watches as well, suddenly more aware of Yubin’s presence than ever. The easy tuck of her flannel shirt into a trusted pair of jeans, the relaxed curl of her hair that somehow faded into a perfectly nice sea-green color from its previous navy shade. Everything about Yubin just happens effortlessly, and it's not that she doesn't care; she just puts her energy elsewhere.

They look equally cool today but only one of them spent over an hour agonizing over it.

“Purple is mine!” Bora hollers, dashing from her seat. Her ponytail almost smacks Siyeon in the face as the older girl rushes to claim her shot.

Minji rises from Handong’s lap with a bounce, pulling her along by their twined fingers. As Siyeon and Gahyun also move to join the commotion of clinking glasses and yelps at accidental spilling prompted by elbows knocking into one another, Yoohyeon has no choice but to follow along.

She stands across from Gahyun, so they can make eye contact easily. Feels pretty lame about the amount of planning put into this move.

“From Yubin to Bora?” Minji inquires, hand hovering over the navy blue shot. She grabs it with the enthusiasm of a child receiving a Christmas present when Yubin nods.

Gahyun tilts her head, brown eyes darting around the room, most likely searching for someone who will provide any clarification. And while Yoohyeon might be in the best position to catch the puzzled gaze, it’s Yubin who provides the answer.

They are right next to each other. Arms almost touching. Yubin couldn’t have seen Gahyun’s eyes, which means she simply knew Gahyun wouldn’t know. How could she? This is her first time meeting the group after all. She can’t know that Yubin makes the shots in ascending order when it comes to alcohol content. From alcohol-free to pure liquor. From cranberry juice to blackberry vodka. From Yubin to Bora.

Gahyun nods at something Yubin said. The words get drowned out by their enthusiastic friends but they undeniably help, because Gahyun’s fingers tighten around the orange shot. On the lighter end of the spectrum. Peach schnapps and orange juice. Perhaps Gahyun is not a heavy drinker.

Or maybe she wanted to match with Yubin , whispers the treacherous voice in Yoohyeon’s head.

“Here you go,” says a smooth voice to Yoohyeon’s left. Handong. With a shot glass extended to Yoohyeon, “You’re looking a little green yourself.”

Yoohyeon sputters, cheeks flushing at being called out like that. Of course, Handong noticed, Yoohyeon’s thoughts might as well be broadcast on her forehead.

Handong wraps an arm around her waist, chin resting on Yoohyeon’s shoulder.

“Fuck you,” she grumbles, making Handong’s laugh right into her ear and dig fingers into her waist. Yoohyeon yelps, almost spills the shot to Handong’s great amusement.

She catches Gahyun looking in their direction. Just for a moment, though, her eyes set back on Yubin quickly. Transfixed and intentional. Probably taking note of how loud and ungraceful Yoohyeon is and how cool and collected Yubin is.

God, what was with her today?

“Save me, Midori.” Yoohyeon groans, staring into the depth of her shot glass and the emerald liquid still shaking from being disturbed by her jolting.

Handong laughs against Yoohyeon’s neck, the melodic sound drowning out the obnoxious voice in their head and the floral scent of her perfume clouding Yoohyeon’s senses

Maybe Handong is a siren after all. Or maybe Yoohyeon just needed attention.

“We drinking or what?” Bora looks around the room, waiting for someone to stand between her and the shot.

Yubin looks like she’s about to say something. Probably a remark about Bora’s drinking habits. Dry but caring, coated in humor that they will all undoubtedly find hilarious. That Gahyun will find hilarious.

“Cheers!” Yoohyeon cuts in before that happens, downing their shot in one swing, blood rushing in their ears and hopefully sparing her cheeks.

Fortunately for her, Minji whoops, taking the attention away from Yoohyeon’s out-of-character outburst, “Someone’s ready to party!” she says and tips the glass, navy blue concoction disappearing down her throat.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Bora all but yells and follows suit. Her glass bangs against the counter after she slams it back with way too much force. “Whoops, sorry,” she cackles when Yoohyeon winces.

She doesn’t need to know that the noise wasn’t even half the reason for this reaction. Sure, it made her jump and worry about the state of Minji’s glass, making her pulse quicken a bit. But it was the sight of Yubin and Gahyeon clinking their glasses together that sent her heartbeat racing.

“Vodka!” Bora grabs Minji’s hand and starts jumping up and down as she chants, “Vodka, vodka, vodka!”

The two best friends giggle as they reach for the bottle together, debating between raspberry and clear, the latter making Yoohyeon cringe.

Yubin rolls her eyes at them but then turns back to Gahyun who seems to be asking for something. The response she gets makes her eyes sparkle. Yoohyeon cannot hear what it was and wishes she did, just so she can also have Gahyun look at her like that.

“Clear it is!” Minji announces to Bora’s enthusiastic hollers and Siyeon’s laughter at the noise.

Yoohyeon almost gags at the very idea of it. Pure burn, no flavor.

“Disgusting,” Handong states as if reading her mind, “I’m getting more wine. You?”

Before they get to respond, Yoohyeon hears Gahyun’s giggle among the commotion. It bubbles with freshness, suppressing even Handong’s prosecco. Light and sweet. Like a gust of warm spring wind, smelling of blossoms, and the promise of sunshine.

The comfort doesn’t last long. Flower petals wither and thorns twist with vicious heaviness when Gahyun lightly taps her bottle of beer against Yubin’s glass of Sprite. Right, Gahyun loves beer. Yoohyeon knows that. Should have offered her one. Didn’t.

“Ayo, anyone else?” Bora’s boisterous voice pushes through the bitterness.

Handong grimaces from behind the fridge door as she retrieves the chilled bottle of prosecco, “Not touching your nail polish remover, thank you very much.”

“Okay, your highness,” the older girl rolls her eyes, “Yooh, you’re boring as well?”

They are. Yoohyeon would sooner drink actual nail polish remover than this.

Gahyun laughs again, louder this time, unrestrained. It echoes through the room, bouncing off the walls and giving the final push to the dominoes leading to Yoohyeon’s biggest mistake of the night.

“Let’s do this,” Yoohyeon smiles despite something in her dying from the smell itself.

“My child! Finally joining the big leagues!”

They pour her a glass, way too full for their liking. It’s difficult to ignore Yubin’s questioning stare but it’s nothing in comparison to avoiding the feelings her proximity to Gahyun seems to be eliciting today.

“To big leagues!” Minji leads the toast and the three eldest down their shots in perfect synchronization. Yoohyeon lags behind half a second before following, letting liquid fire drip down their throat.

It’s ice cold but leaves a burning trail behind. Not unlike the frigid blade of envy marking Yoohyeon’s heart.

Yoohyeon hates vodka but she loathes the feeling impossibly more.

**

Bad. Bad and not good.

After surviving the worst abomination known to mankind, Yoohyeon decided to never listen to Bora again. They stuck with the poison, but settled for pouring it into a tall glass and topping off with orange juice, unlike the fiends who kept downing shots without a care in the world.

“I hate everything,” Yoohyeon mumbles and leans their head against the counter. Cool surface works wonders for their flushed skin and creates an illusion of clarity in their mind.

There is a clinking next to their head, a glass being placed, “What is with you today?” 

Yubin. And the glass probably contains water, because of course Yubin would bring her water when all Yoohyeon has been doing is send mental daggers their way. Joke’s on them, the daggers turn their pointy ends towards Yoohyeon’s own chest, hovering in the air in a truly Macbethian way.

“I might have had one too many,” Yoohyeon mumbles lamely, wishing the counter could soak in the inebriation and shame altogether.

“One is too many for you.” Yubin taps their head with one finger and the other four follow until their entire hand is massaging Yoohyeon’s neck in a way that feels soothing, but also makes them feel infinitely worse.

“I just feel like I’m trying too hard for no reason, you know?” 

Yubin nods, “Yeah, you do that.”

“What do you mean I do that?!”

Yoohyeon reaches for the glass and downs it almost in one greedy gulp, letting it settle the dry throat and burning flame of guilt.

“You keep talking about wanting to make Gahyun think you’re cool. Like, all the time, after every hangout. Have you considered that she already does?”

“Does what?” 

If eyes could roll out of one’s sockets, Yubin would be blind within seconds. “God, alcohol makes you slow.” 

“They’re always slow,” Handong invites herself into the conversation, arms slipping around Yubin’s waist and chin resting on the plaid-clad shoulder. Her lips are almost brushing the other girl’s ear and Yoohyeon decides that Yubin must be God’s strongest soldier for maintaining her composure in these circumstances.

Yoohyeon scowls, “This is a private conversation.” 

“My favorite kind,” Handong’s eyes glint with prosecco-induced amusement and she exchanges a glance with Yubin. They both smile, the eye contact charged with something Yoohyeon wouldn’t be able to pinpoint even when sober, so she finishes her glass and leaves them to their own devices.

Whatever these two have going on, Yoohyeon has some moping and pining to attend to.

She looks longingly across the room where the rest of the group is invested in an incredibly agitated and ridiculously loud conversation. Yoohyeon can barely make out the topic, the arguments, or the sentences as they have descended into pure noise. She can, however, name every single color sparkling in Gahyun’s glittery eye shadow. 

If only she had said something before Siyeon did and not just lamely jumped onto the compliment.

Bora gives into a fit of maniacal cackling, high-pitched and unrestrained, as she collapses against Siyeon, knocking Siyeon’s chest with her head. Gahyun laughs at them, the sound tugging at Yoohyeon’s heartstrings. 

“Fuck!” Siyeon yelps in pain, pushing at Bora’s shoulder to get her off, only achieving even more bursts of laughter from the woman, “Woman, that hurts!”

“Aw, poor baby,” Bora’s voice turns obnoxiously sweet as she reaches her hands out, “Do you need me to massage it for you?”

Siyeon squirms and slaps at the offending fingers creeping all over her torso as Bora laughs even harder, dodging the defense effortlessly despite their mutual lack of coordination. Their voices get progressively louder, bickering intensifying with some stray squealing courtesy of Siyeon when Bora manages to get her hands where she wants them. 

Nothing is unusual about the scene. Minji eggs her best friend on with bursts of laughter so cleansing that one might think it can bring the sun from behind the horizon despite night having fallen quite some time ago. Another shot disappears down the host’s throat, whiskey this time, and Yoohyeon almost gags, marvelling at the contrast between her friend’s princess-like appearance and her drinking like a middle-aged man on a business trip.

“Someone get her away!” Siyeon pleads through laughter from underneath Bora, who is now straddling her. The call gets ignored as Siyeon herself makes no move to actually get Bora off of her, only moving her hands to avoid a stray poke to the side. Siyeon might be a weakling but she sure has it in her to put up more fight. The blush on her face, only partially induced by alcohol, tells everything anyone needs to know.

Not that Yoohyeon can judge, she’s just happy to not be the only one pathetically down bad. She probably wouldn't have put up much more of a fight had it been her and Gahyun.

The room spins at the thought, air suddenly too dense to breathe properly.

“I need more water, I’m objectifying women,” Yoohyeon mumbles to her roommate, only to realize that neither her, nor Handong are anywhere near her. Well, that’s nice.

Probably to talk about Yubin and Gahyun

Yoohyeon decided to pin all the thoughts of a similar sort on the vodka, that transparent demon straight from the deepest depths of hell, and chooses there, and then to stop the madness of overthinking a situation that’s not even taking place.

But what if it is?

Well, then they’ll cry, that’s what.

Deciding to jump right into the nearest distraction, Yoohyeon decides to insert themself right into the mess on the floor. The situation has shifted after Minji took pity on cherry-red Siyeon and wrapped her arms around Bora’s waist to pull her best friend away from the poor girl. Bora was having none of that and thrashed in the embrace, fighting for her freedom with all the might of her tiny frame. 

“Yooh, contain this one, please!” Minji calls out when she notices them approaching and Bora makes a noise of protest, feeling betrayed at the prospect of being outnumbered. Siyeon just lies on the floor, regaining her breath through continuous fits of laughter.

“I cannot be contained!” Bora roars and lunges out of Minji’s grasp with a surprising bout of strength. Siyeon scrambles from the floor, thinking she is doomed but Bora chooses another target and tackles Yoohyeon, who hasn’t even sat down properly. 

“Oh, come on!” they protest when Bora chooses to once again ruffle their hair, effectively ruining her own hard work as gray strands fall out of the braids. Honestly, they should have expected exactly this outcome, being Bora’s favorite punching bag, “Someone help?”

Siyeon, that traitor, shuffles with a half-apologetic smile and settles in Minji’s embrace. The eldest gently fixes her messed-up hair while Yoohyeon is left at the mercy of her menace of a friend without anyone to assist her.

“I need a beer,” Siyeon sighs with a pout. Minji gets up to grab one for her and Gahyun, who enthusiastically jumps at the idea.

Yoohyeon smiles to herself at the sight despite the assault, making Bora turn to see what made her friend so happy all of a sudden. She smirks and starts making kissing noises, leaning closer to Yoohyeon, much to the others horror, “Fuck off!”

“You know you love it, baby!” Bora cackles at her own antics and tries to place a sloppy kiss on Yoohyeon’s cheek, getting blocked by the other’s hand, “Let me smooch you!”

“Screw off!”

The world gets obscured by light brown once again that night as Bora’s hair falls into Yoohyeon’s eyes, the scent of passion fruit filling the air. It all serves as a great distraction. Yoohyeon will give her that, but still refuses to stop struggling and squirming in her friend’s iron grasp. How much does she work out exactly?

It’s loud, it’s annoying, it’s endlessly comforting, and everything Yoohyeon has missed since Bora and her parted ways to live separately. The endless bickering, constant harassment, and lack of personal space. Not a single day without Yoohyeon poking at Bora’s buttons to elicit a reaction because they found it amusing and because Bora always gave them all the attention they have gotten used to by living in a household with three other siblings. 

Yoohyeon manages to push at Bora’s arm enough to sit up again and catches Minji’s amused grin. Her pink-haired friend sips at the beer straight from the bottle, some brand Yoohyeon does not recognize, but knowing Minji, it’s not nearly as sweet as they'd like, anyway. Despite fighting for their life, Yoohyeon thinks about the specifics of Gahyun’s taste in beer. Minji got her one, they can just check if they look behind Bora’s shoulder subtly enough…

Yeah, they should not have done that.

All the newly-found lightness in Yoohyeon’s chest solidifies into lead and drops to their stomach. Handong and Yubin have returned from whatever business they had to attend, which is lovely since Yoohyeon loves the company of their friends. But Yoohyeon would also prefer if their friends did not fraternize with their crush to such a concerning extent.

Correction, Yoohyeon would prefer they weren’t as bothered by that.

Why is it such a big deal to her, either way? Yoohyeon has never been like this, not by a long shot. Sure, some flair-ups of anxiety here and there, or wishing for her crushes to notice her more, but never like this. Never so personal, so deep, so petty, and never, absolutely under no circumstances, directed at her closest friends.

Vodka, that bitch. It must be it.

Still, regardless of the reason, the fact is that Yoohyeon finds the sight of Gahyun deep in conversation with Yubin, their heads close together, to be very distracting. Probably because of all the noise that Bora and Yoohyeon are making, because, of course, Yoohyeon would be the tailor of her own personal hell.

Bora’s gaze fixes on Yoohyeon, specifically their eyes and Yoohyeon knows she is searching for the reason for their sudden dip in mood, which is probably displayed in bold red letters on their forehead, right next to the word “DRAMATIC”.

“What’s up?” she asks quietly, not wanting to draw attention to them and Yoohyeon feels their chest fill with warmth.

Yoohyeon sighs and rests her forehead against Bora’s collarbone, her friend still straddling her, “It’s nothing and it’s dumb.”

The words are mumbled, spoken against Bora’s shirt and it doesn’t swallow the shame nearly as fast as the shame is threatening Yoohyeon.

“Not if it gets you this upset,” Bora runs her fingers through Yoohyeon’s hair. She took the braids out, letting silver strands fall freely. Somehow, her hand doesn’t get tangled despite the intoxication.

This is the moment Yoohyeon decides to stop feeling sorry for herself. Because if their moping got Bora this concerned, she is clearly overdoing it for no reason. 

Still, it feels good to be noticed and comforted, so Yoohyeon lets herself be babied and cradled against Bora’s chest. Her former roommate understands what’s expected of her and continues lightly treading through Yoohyeon’s hair. The tenderness doesn't occur often between the two, they default to pushing each other’s buttons in the name of love.

Getting sleepy against Bora’s sweater, Yoohyeon decides that change can be good.

Gahyun laughs at Yubin’s joke and Yoohyeon’s heart clenches.

Sometimes.

**

Siyeon cringes at the taste of her beer but drinks it nonetheless. Doesn’t want to bother Yubin for another drink. Even though the younger girl would make it for her without blinking. Immediately. The quiet kind of love expressed in acts of service. Ones missed desperately and reminding Siyeon of simpler times. When all she had to do was pout and Yubin or Minji knew to shower her with affection.

Times change, but some people don’t. They just grow.

As Yubin talks to Gahyun and Handong, it’s apparent how much that rings true. It’s not in the maturity that has always been there, the girl’s soul was old even when in a college freshman’s body. But over the years, Yubin has grown into it, her wisdom and laid-back nature matched with confidence to back them up and create a full-fleshed individual going through life one calm move at a time.

Sometimes Siyeon wonders if her younger friends have outmatched her in terms of having their lives together.

“Don’t be gloomy,” Minji pokes her shoulder, effectively snapping her out of her daze.

“I’m not gloomy, just thinking.” 

There were many things to think about. Siyeon’s gaze wanders over to Bora, snuggling Yoohyeon close to her chest. It pulls at her heartstrings. How could one tiny person contain such multitudes that created an endlessly fascinating puzzle? How could it be so perfectly matched with the gaps and shortcomings of Siyeon’s own character and leaving gaps for Siyeon to make her better as well? Nothing was perfect, sure, Siyeon knew that.

But some things came damn near close.

“You should do something about that.”

Whether Minji is a mind reader or just capable of seeing the obvious, Siyeon knows she’s right. They’re past the point of circling aimlessly and waiting. Waiting for something required said something to take place. After way too much waiting, it was time for the something in question to happen.

She raises her beer, “Soon.”

It’s a promise. To Minji, to herself, and to Bora, the only one not aware it’s being made.

She will be. Soon

**

Heels clack against the sidewalk, adding yet another sound to the city’s symphony. Friday night continues as Seoul descends into its bustling nightlife with the roar of car engines, chatter of young adults hurrying to bars among the December chill, and neon lights bathing the city with their vibrant glow. The sound of heeled boots provides a different layer to the ambience, unique but cohesive with what the night promises to offer.

Leave it to Handong to make an impact without throwing the balance off.

The group dispersed around two, Bora and Siyeon deciding to stay the night but not before walking the rest of the group to the door. Minji let Yubin borrow her car and Bora passed an adorably drowsy Yoohyeon over to her roommate, who grumbled under the clingy mass of limbs. Still, she led Yoohyeon to the car. Offered a ride to Handong and Gahyun as well, but they declined since Dong really wanted to let her wine-ridden mind clear in the winter frost. 

Despite the claims made to Yoohyeon, Gahyun appreciates the walk even if the weather makes it difficult. She has a lot to think about. The cityscape opens up like a different realm after dark. Black mirrors of sleeping houses and endless strings of street lights. Gahyun prefers a late-night drive to a walk, especially in freezing circumstances. 

Still, she follows the confident stride of her roommate in a pace slightly more rushed than what she defaults to, a combination of wanting to escape the cold as much as possible and attempting to match the ridiculously long steps of the strutting phenomenon in front of her.

The long, black trench coat is unbuttoned, what Gahyun and the rest of the world consider to be intolerable cold, Handong merely regards as a slight chill. She effortlessly steps through the night, blonde waves painted with multicolored lights and an all-black outfit, establishing her presence perfectly among the partygoers. The impression others make with a bit of luck in pursuit of glamor, Handong achieves on her merry way home. She is not to be perceived in dimmed bars, gawked at for hours by hungry eyes, her presence is a glimmer in the dark, flicker of candlelight, blink and you miss it.

The door to their apartment closes, and Gahyun gets to see the graceful goddess dismantle her polished exterior. The trench coat and boots come off, taking the impossible elongation of her silhouette away. Handong asks for a hair tie and, upon receiving one, moves to the bathroom to take her makeup off. 

She’s still stunning, maybe impossibly more so. The warmth of being comfortable at home brings out the glow in everyone.

Gahyun smiles at the few shorter strands of blonde hair sticking to Handong’s face as she commences her skincare routine.

“Creep,” Handong mutters when she catches the gaze on her. Water drips down her chin, several drops hitting the tiles. “Planning how to kill me?” 

“You’re too loud, it would attract attention.” 

Handong laughs and turns the faucet off. Reaches into the cupboard for serum and puts a small amount on her face. “Are you home tomorrow?”

“I think so,” Gahyun sighs and procrastinates on removing her own makeup by reaching for water first. If she stalls long enough, Handong will wipe her face for her, fussing over the importance of letting skin breathe, “I want to sleep in.” 

Water fills the glass, and the bathroom cupboard gets closed again. This time, Handong has reached for moisturizer, the final step of her routine. Gahyun still refuses to even consider reaching for micellar water. She downs the glass instead, cringing. For something that’s supposedly devoid of flavor, water sure tastes bad.

“So, you spent a lot of time with Yubin,” Handong trails off as she approaches Gahyun with a sly smile. Her face is bare, cheekbones prominent, with her hair tied into a bun. She reminds Gahyun of a cat on the prowl. Waiting. Anticipating a reaction.

Gahyun decides not to give Handong what she wants yet, “Mhm, she’s nice.” 

The evasion makes Handong raise her eyebrows. There is an amusement to her tone. She enjoys Gahyun’s little game, probably more than Gahyun does herself. “No more details?” 

“You get the details if you take my makeup off.” 

Handong huffs with an eye roll, “As if that wasn’t going to happen either way with your spoiled, hopeless ass.” 

She is back in the bathroom before Gahyun gets to smack her, so the younger girl settles for a whine to communicate her outrage at the accusation. Handong isn’t wrong, just annoying. They both are, in a way, always adamant on being right and having things done their way. Call it the only child syndrome or knowing one’s worth, the apartment houses two princesses who expect certain standards from each other, themselves, and everyone else.

“I like her,” Gahyun says and takes her favorite seat by the kitchen table. She combs through her hair with her fingers, so that it’s not in the way. “I like her a lot, actually.”

Handong sits to her left and lifts a cotton pad, silently letting Gahyun know she should close her eyes. There is starlight in her voice as she inquires, “And?”

Gahyun remembers Yubin’s propriety, politeness, and effortless willingness to assist. Exactly what a princess would want, “You were right.”

“Yeah?” 

Her voice is laced with giggles, gentle and soft. Even with closed eyes, Gahyun knows Handong’s face lights up with a smile. 

“Yeah,” she settles more comfortably in the chair as Handong gently swipes the cotton over her eyelid, “You two will be great together.” 

The moon sends them its silvery kiss through the window, and Gahyun feels herself getting sleepy under Handong’s tender touch.

With her mission accomplished, she lets herself drift off, knowing Dong will carry her to bed.