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At the sound of her alarm and the morning sun in her eyes, Minjeong woke up for the first time in weeks with a smile on her face.
After she was ostracized by her friends for protecting a victim of their bullying, she feared she would be forever alone, though, a charming girl by the name of Yu Jimin made sure this wasn’t the case.
She was a senior at their college in a wildly different friend group, often hanging out with other girls, dancers, and members of the upper class. But when Jimin learned of Minjeong's bravery, she approached her, sitting alone at lunch, and offered to sit with her.
Then, after she asked Minjeong on a date, she became an even more important part of Jimin's group.
That had been weeks ago, and other than Minjeong’s unfortunate home life, the several dates she'd gone on with Jimin had made everything seem brighter. Tonight she had another date planned with Jimin, a romantic movie and dinner date afterward, and she planned to give her a gift to repay her for the flowers Jimin had given to her on their last date, baby pink roses that matched her favorite shirt. The roses were currently hidden in her calculus textbook, being pressed and likely staining the pages, but she didn’t care one bit.
The gift Minjeong had gotten Jimin was a book of poetry recently released by one of her favorite writers. She had to arrive at their local bookstore early to make sure she could get a copy, and luckily, she was able to get the last one.
Now it was just a game of waiting, she had approximately six hours until her date with Jimin, which sounded like a long time, but most of that would be spent trying on every item in her closet and re-doing her eyeliner over and over again until she finally got it perfect, so really it was hardly enough time in the grand scheme of things.
After picking out an outfit and writing a simple note to Jimin in the front of the book, she climbed out of her window with her headphones in one hand to take a walk in an attempt to calm her nerves. Although she and Jimin had grown close, she’d never felt like this with anyone before, no matter how many dates they would go on, Minjeong suspected she would always feel a bit anxious before seeing Jimin.
As she walked around the neighborhood letting the wind and music soothe her, the clouds grew dark and the air grew humid, signaling that she should go home if she didn’t want her clothes and hair soaked through.
When she arrived back at her window she found that it was closed and locked, and her heart promptly fell to her stomach. She hoped it had just been her mother, tidying up in her room innocently, yet her father’s truck in the driveway suggested otherwise. He was meant to still be out on a fishing trip with his friends from work, yet clearly, he had come home early.
Sounds of yelling and banging penetrated Minjeong's ears as she entered through the front door. She walked through the house anxiously, quiet on her feet as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.
The view she came upon was horrifying, her room was trashed, posters ripped off the walls, vinyl records snapped in black shards on the floor, and her father stood at the eye of the storm, breathing heavily with anger.
Sensing Minjeong behind him, he turned around, the book Minjeong had bought Jimin in one hand and a belt in the other.
Minjeong felt shame and fear pour down her back like a bucket of ice water, her eyes immediately watering despite her efforts to remain composed. She blinked so fast she saw stars. Crying never helped her case, it only served to make her father angrier.
“I– Dad it’s not– it isn’t what it looks like,” Minjeong stuttered.
“Really?” her father asked. “That’s all you have to fucking say for yourself? After I find out that you're dating this.. this girl?!"
“I– I’m so sorry–” Minjeong started but was cut off when her father pushed her against the wall, punching her so hard in the head that she could hear the sound of her skull colliding with the wall behind her. It seemed to thud like stone against concrete, and Minjeong fell to the ground, so incredibly dizzy she could no longer stand.
“Please, no, no. I’m sorry– I’m so sorry– I’ll do better! Please stop…"
From then on she didn’t bother speaking, knowing if she begged her father to stop it would only make things worse. She laid on the ground as her father beat and whipped her with his belt, time standing still as she gripped the carpet below her, begging for a reprieve. However, she knew it had been a while, as the welts had started to bleed, pooling below her and staining the carpet.
She couldn’t remember the last time her father beat her this badly, and Minjeong feared that this would be the worst and last time.
Maybe he’d finally had enough, and the night would end with Minjeong dead on her floor.
Eventually, her father got tired, and after screaming homophobic slurs in Minjeong's ear one last time, he pulled Minjeong forward, forcing her to watch as he set the book she bought for Minjeong on fire. He threw the book at Minjeong's feet and spit on her one last time before climbing down the stairs, making sure to slam the door on his way out.
Minjeong was still crying, but she could hardly feel it from all the pain, the fire licking at her feet and blistering her legs. She crawled over a few feet to her water bottle, opening it with shaking hands and pouring it all over the book and her feet to extinguish the fire.
She leaned back against the wall breathing heavily, gasping as her lungs seemed to fill to the brim with agony. She couldn’t help but wonder if her mother downstairs could hear her cries and screams as her father beat her for what seemed to be hours considering how the sky was now a deep navy blue.
She looked from the book to the dark sky and back to the book, eyes widening.
“Shit,” Minjeong said. Her eyes landed on her alarm clock, flickering and broken from her father’s influence, but the time was there clear as day: half past seven o’clock, nearly two hours after she was supposed to meet Jimin for their date.
"Shit, shit, shit.”
Jimin was the one good thing Minjeong had going for herself right now, if she screwed this up and lost her, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself.
Minjeong looked around the room frantically for her phone, but found it broken in half in the corner of the room, glass shattered almost poetically in a circle around it. At once she made her decision: she would get to Jimin, even if it was the last thing she'd ever do.
She got to her feet quickly and ran to the window, wincing at the state of it. Her father had covered the window in nails and duct tape, attempting to make sure Minjeong couldn’t sneak out of it again.
She knew sneaking downstairs was a death sentence so she started to pry the window open. Her arms were shaking harder than she’d ever seen them before and with every small creak she heard from downstairs she flinched, more tears rolling down her face.
“C’mon, c’mon,” she whispered to herself desperately.
Eventually, she had pulled the nails out enough for the window to open, her fingers bleeding from the effort. The sound her window made as it opened was loud, screeching as the nails scraped the wood frame.
“Hey!” her father yelled from downstairs. “Kim Minjeong, you better come back here!”
Minjeong nearly screamed in fear, her heart beating so loud she could hardly hear anything else. Her father came up the stairs just as Minjeong forced herself through the window immediately breaking out into a sprint despite the blood loss and pain coursing through her veins.
She didn’t quite remember the way to Jimin's house as she lived all the way on the other side of Seoul in one of the wealthier neighborhoods, and she had only been there once, but she knew she had to find her way there. Jimin had to know that Minjeong didn’t stand her up, at least not on purpose.
As the rain pelted down on her, Minjeong broke out into a sprint, trying not to slip as she ran. However, she did collapse a few times, needing to recharge from the pain in her legs. The bruises and scrapes she could handle, but the burns at her ankles were agonizing, rubbing against her shoes as she moved.
It took everything in her not to pass out on the way there, not because she cared if it killed her, but because she needed to apologize to Jimin. It was the only thing keeping her going as she clutched her stomach, trying not to get sick from the pain.
She was secretly worried she wouldn’t recognize Jimin's house and get lost, but as soon as the familiar white pillars and baby blue shutters came into her peripheral vision, she turned harshly and put the last of her energy into getting to the front door.
Minjeong wasn’t overcome with any relief, knowing Jimin would likely yell at her and send her on her way, but she needed to apologize for standing her up.
After ringing the doorbell once with no response, she banged on the door desperately, sliding down to the ground as her legs gave out from beneath her.
The door swung open quickly and Jimin stood with wide eyes, holding a large kitchen knife. Minjeong instinctively backed away and Jimin let out a sigh, putting down the knife on the table next to her.
“Jesus Christ, Minjeong, you gave me a fright,” she said with her hand on her chest, her expression a mix of anger and relief. “I thought with all of the banging that you were going to break down the door and murder me.”
Minjeong carefully got to her feet, gripping the frame of the door to shakily hold herself up. "Jimin unnie, I am so, so, so sorry. I– I didn’t mean to stand you up–”
“–Minjeong, what happened? You’re bleeding,” Jimin said, voice full of concern. From the ground, her skin was shrouded in darkness but where she stood now, Jimin could see her injuries clear as day with the light from inside the house shining on her.
"I– I um–” she started, but found she was too overwhelmed to answer probably, shaking so badly she could hardly focus on anything else. “I’m sorry,” she said again, whimpering loudly as tears rolled down her face mixing with the rain.
“Oh baby, it’s alright.” Jimin reached out to hold her, worried that Minjeong might keel over. She looked quite ill, shivering and injured and remarkably pale. Any anger Jimin might have had that she was stood up flew out the window swiftly. “Come inside. We’ll get you cleaned up and then talk, okay?”
Minjeong nodded, stepping inside the house. She looked down at her shoes and pants, covered in mud, and backed up slightly. “I– I should just go, I’m going to ruin your floors. I just came because I needed to apologize. I don’t deserve–”
“–It's okay, Minjeong-ah,” Jimin said, and looked Minjeong up and down. “How about I carry you upstairs so no mud gets on the floor? Would that be alright?”
“I– yeah okay, please?” Minjeong said, her voice fragile. She braced herself as Jimin lifted her up like she was nothing. Her heart flipped in her chest despite how painful it was to move. Jimin cradled her to her chest carefully as she carried her up the stairs, making sure Minjeong didn’t touch any floors or walls.
“I’m getting you all wet,” Minjeong whimpered again.
“Barely, and they’re just clothes,” Jimin reassured. “You are far more important.”
Minjeong didn’t say anything, she simply nuzzled into Jimin's neck, chasing the warmth that radiated off of her skin. She could not help the tears that continued to fall, her body seizing with sobs as Jimin held her. It was all too much, finally feeling cared for and safe.
She hadn’t been taken care of like this since she was a young girl, and Jimin had hardly even done anything.
Jimin held her tighter as she walked up the stairs, eventually walking through her bathroom door so she could set Minjeong carefully on the counter. Jimin tried to lean away, only momentarily to get a first aid kid from the cabinet under the sink, but Minjeong held on tighter.
“I just need to grab some first aid supplies. I’m not going anywhere,” Jimin said. Minjeong just shook her head. She didn’t trust her voice not to come out as anything but sobs and hiccups. “Not yet?” Jimin asked. Minjeong just looked at her, wide wet eyes pleading to be cherished.
Jimin leaned forward to gather the younger girl in her arms, leaning between Minjeong's legs. Minjeong held her shirt in an iron grip, shaking harshly, as she cried into Jimin's shoulder. Jimin had to take several deep breaths to keep from crying herself. It hurt her deeply to see Minjeong in so much agony.
“Shhh, it’s alright. I've got you now,” Jimin said softly, running her hands through Minjeong's curls. “You’re safe here, Minjeong-ah. Just breathe. Take your time.”
After several more minutes of reassurances, Minjeong eventually stopped sobbing, leaning away from Jimin with an embarrassed flush. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Jimin said simply, and when Minjeong's eyes met hers, her heart seemed to melt in her chest.
Minjeong, quite frankly, was a mess, her hair soaking wet, blood and bruises everywhere, and nose running, but heavens she was beautiful. “It really is unfair how lovely you still look after all of that. I’m a terribly ugly crier.”
Thinking about what could’ve caused the other girl’s injuries made her eyes grow misty. A tear rolled down Jimin's cheek and Minjeong frowned. “Unnie–”
“–I’m not upset with you. I just hate seeing you in so much pain,” Jimin said. “Do not apologize.” Minjeong nodded quietly. “Now, do you mind if I remove some of your clothes so I can clean you up properly?”
Minjeong looked at her nervously. “You– you don’t have to do that. I can do it myself.”
“I really don't mind,” Jimin insisted, leaning forward slowly so as to not startle Minjeong before kissing her on the cheek softly. “Besides, you’re shaking far too much to do a proper job.”
“Okay,” Minjeong replied. “Only if you’re sure.”
“Silly,” Jimin said as she pulled Minjeong’s shoes off, then her wet cardigan and shirt. Minjeong yelped in pain when the fabric brushed her face. “Sorry! Sorry,” Jimin said, lifting Minjeong's jaw slightly to get a better look.
A black eye was readily forming, spreading to her cheekbone and nose bridge in a horrible shade of reddish purple, and there was blood caked in her tangled blonde hair and on her pale skin. Jimin frowned, stroking the unbroken skin on Minjeong's face lightly. “Oh, baby..”
“I know,” Minjeong said, as tears welled in her eyes once again. She wished she could stop crying, her eyes red and irritated from the hours of tears, but she couldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried. She sniffled harshly. “Did something stupid. I– I deserved it.”
“Minjeong,” Jimin said. Tears rolled down
Minjeong's face and she winced, avoiding eye contact. “Look at me, please.” Minjeong looked at her reluctantly, beautiful pools of dark brown orbs connecting with Jimin's. “There is nothing in the world you could have done, nothing, that could have warranted this. You deserve anything but pain.”
Minjeong just barely nodded, not really believing her agreement. “I don’t think I can get these off,” she said, gesturing toward her jeans. “I can’t really– feel.. my legs.”
“Unbutton them for me?” Jimin asked gently. Minjeong did as such and Jimin lifted her up with one arm, using the other one to remove the muddy garment.
Minjeong gasped. “Are you alright?” Jimin frowned at that. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, you just uh– you’re a lot stronger than I expected, unnie,” Minjeong replied shyly. “It’s hot.”
Jimin smiled slightly. “Thank you, baby,” she said. “You said you cannot feel your legs? That’s odd– they don't seem injured besides a few scrapes and small bruises and oh my god Minjeong, are these blisters?”
“I um– ran here,” Minjeong replied. “From Yongsan.”
“You live in Yongsan?” Jimin asked. "That’s like a fifty-minute walk from here, and in the rain too. Why didn’t you just call me? I would have come for you without a question asked. No wonder you cannot feel your legs.”
Minjeong stifled a surprised expression. “My father smashed my phone,” Minjeong mumbled. “Right after he smashed my face.. Plus, I had to get to you. If I tried to find a phone it would’ve taken too long.. a– and I needed you to know how sorry–”
“–Minjeong, while I do admit I was upset when you didn’t show up for our date. I knew you likely had a good reason for not being there,” Jimin said. “I’m not angry or upset. You can stop apologizing because you do not have anything to be sorry for.” Minjeong didn’t say anything as Jimin sorted through the first aid kit, looking for the supplies she needed. “Would you like to talk about what happened?” Jimin asked softly.
“Not yet,” Minjeong breathed shakily, trying not to start crying again. “Y– you’ve still got to clean me up and if I start talking about it I’ll start blubbering again and–" She hiccuped, using the back of her hand to wipe her tears away. "And it’ll make your job a lot harder.”
Jimin smiled sadly and leaned forward, to connect their lips, kissing her gently. It hadn’t been the first time they kissed, but butterflies fluttered in Minjeong's stomach all the same.
She then opened up her first aid kit to begin cleaning and bandaging Minjeong's skin. Her heart ached in her chest every time Minjeong winced or whimpered, her open wounds aching at the touch, but she rectified this by kissing Minjeong in between patching her up and attempting to distract her from the pain.
Eventually, Minjeong was covered in ointment and bandages, still hurting on the outside but less so on the inside.
“Would you like to go to my bedroom?” Jimin asked. Minjeong looked at her with big eyes. “Not like that.”
Minjeong laughed and tried to hoist herself off the counter. “Ah ah ah,” Jimin scolded her, reaching around Minjeong's body to lift her up once more, pulling her into her chest. “I just spent fifteen minutes covering you in bandages. I’m not letting you hurt yourself and ruin all of my hard work.” Her back had the worst of it and was almost entirely white with gauze, so Jimin didn’t want Minjeong to open her wounds back up by simply bending the wrong way.
Minjeong grinned, leaning into the warmth of Jimin's body as they entered her room. She never got tired of Jimin's bedroom. It was so warm and cozy, filled with shades of blues, books and knickknacks… it was all so her. Even if Jimin hadn’t been there, just laying in her bed surrounded by her things and her scent would be enough to ease Minjeong's wary mind.
Jimin placed Minjeong on the bed carefully while she dug into her dresser, grabbing a hoodie and a pair of joggers for her to wear. Minjeong reached to grab the hoodie, assuming it was for her, but Jimin shook her head.
“Those are for me,” she said, taking off her own jumper and joggers. “I know you like it when things smell like me and you’re still freezing; my clothes are already warm.” Minjeong bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, but her eyes did her no favors. Jimin was always so thoughtful, it never failed to make her swoon.
Jimin kneeled before her and carefully dressed Minjeong in her warm clothes, being so gentle Minjeong couldn’t help but let even more hot tears run down her face. Once she started crying it was like a dam had been breached, and little things would set her off for the rest of the day if she let herself break. Jimin's hoodie was a tad too big for Minjeong, making her look extra small in the clothing.
Jimin didn’t say anything, simply deciding to cradle the younger girl in her arms, leaning forward and kissing the tears from Minjeong’s tiny face, until Minjeong was giggling instead of crying.
“Hmm salty,” Jimin murmured.
Minjeong shoved her away jokingly. “You’re so weird,” she laughed.
“You love it.”
“Yeah,” Minjeong sighed.
Jimin smiled at her and suddenly she was being scooped up, landing under the covers of Jimin's bed. Jimin soon joined her beneath the blankets, Minjeong's head tucked into the space between the older's jaw and shoulder, the gap perfectly fitting her head as if it were made to rest there. Minjeong inhaled deeply, committing the scent of old leather books, green tea leaves, and cedar to memory.
Jimin wrapped her arms around Minjeong further, squeezing slightly, hoping the pressure would ease some of the shaking. Although the cold had worn off, her heart hadn’t stopped racing all night, causing her body to shake anxiously. It felt almost as though she were going into shock.
“My love,” Jimin said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You’ve done more than enough, unnie.”
“You’re still shaking,” she replied. “Do you want to talk about it? It might help to get those thoughts off your mind. They can get quite poisonous if you do not have a second opinion.”
“No, I– I don’t really think I should talk about it,” she said, not wanting to burden Jimin. “I do owe you an explanation about why I stood you up for our date, though. I really am sorry about that–”
“–You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jimin reminded her. “Continue.”
“Right, so I– I got you a gift. That book of poetry you told me you wanted? I found it for you and wrote you a note inside, something simple because I’m not the best with words, but I made the mistake of writing your name in the same sentence as the word ‘love’ and god I was so stupid– I- I left it out on my bed and he came in and saw it and–” Minjeong’s voice broke. “–He was so angry and he– he hit me.. and burned the book, burned me a bit too actually.. that’s what the blisters were from,” she explained through her soft cries. “I’ll get you another book, though, don’t worry.”
“Oh baby,” Jimin sighed. “You are so thoughtful and sweet, you know that? You do not have to worry about buying me another one.”
“But I– I wanted to get you a gift. You deserve it, unnie.” She sniffled.
“You being here, safe and warm in my arms, is the greatest gift I could get,” Jimin said, running her hands up and down Minjeong's arm to soothe her. "Is your head alright? Do you want me to drive us to the hospital to look at it?"
Minjeong shook her head, tucking herself into Jimin's shirt more. "Don't wanna go to the hospital. I just want to stay here with you."
"Okay." Jimin hugged her a little tighter, hoping that it gave Minjeong the sense of security she desperately needed.
“But what about our date?” Minjeong asked, voice sounding particularly small.
“How about we have a do-over tomorrow? We can spend all day together instead of just a movie and dinner date. What do you usually eat for breakfast?”
“Breakfast?” Minjeong asked, lifting her head from Jimin's chest. “I– I figured you would just drive me home. I don’t want to overstay...” Jimin looked at her like she’d grown three heads, and Minjeong looked slightly panicked. “Or– or I could walk home. If you don’t want to drive me–”
“–Minjeong, I’m not looking at you like that because I do not want to drive you home,” Jimin caressed the younger girl's cheek, her heart breaking a little when she noticed Minjeong wince from the touch. She made a mental note to buy some bruise cream for Minjeong from the pharmacy tomorrow morning.
Jimin sighed, “I’m looking at you like you’re crazy because you are crazy if you think I’m letting you go back home tonight with that awful man,” she said firmly, but not with anger, only with concern. “Besides, you owe me some ‘Minjeong time’ for standing me up, I reckon?”
Minjeong opened her mouth, ready to apologize again. “That was a joke,” Jimin reassured. “About the standing-me-up thing. Though, I would really love to spend the night with you, and tomorrow of course.”
Minjeong swallowed, "It’s just that we’ve never– I’ve never–”
“–If this is a step that you’re not ready to take that’s perfectly fine, baby,” Jimin replied. “I can sleep in the guest room next door if that would make you more comfortable.”
“It’s not that I’d be uncomfortable– it’s more that– uh– well I–” Minjeong stuttered. “I’m sorry… I’m having trouble explaining.”
“It's okay, take your time, Minjeong.”
“Well… having a sleepover is kind of a big step, isn’t it? I just don’t want to make assumptions or push you into something you’re not ready for, is all,” Minjeong said. “I just don’t want to read too much into this. Y- You’re really all I have right now and I couldn’t bear it if something happened and you left…” (the me went without saying).
“I agree that it is a big step, but it’s the kind of step I want to take with you. It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” Jimin reassured her. “Sleepovers are the kind of thing girlfriends do, aren’t they?”
“I– y- yeah, yes, exactly.”
“Well since we are in agreement there,” Jimin said. “Kim Minjeong, would you like to be my girlfriend?”
“I– really?” Minjeong asked, almost amazed. “You want to be my girlfriend, even after tonight?”
“Especially after tonight,” Jimin said. “Minjeong, you ran here, injured in the pouring rain, just because you wanted to make sure I knew you did not stand me up and apologize. You also bought me a very thoughtful gift, regardless of whether or not it was destroyed. I reckon you would be a fantastic girlfriend.”
“Oh, okay,” Minjeong said, finally breaking out into a shy smile, despite the tears still shining in her eyes. “We’re girlfriends then.”
Jimin took a moment to bask in Minjeong's warmth, thanking god Minjeong finally started to get her color back. When Minjeong took off her shirt earlier and Jimin saw her pale face, her torso and back torn to shreds, she nearly took her to the hospital, but she knew that would only make Minjeong panic more, and she didn’t want to cause the girl any additional distress.
Luckily, she was able to patch the wounds herself, but she made it a point to keep a close eye on Minjeong in case things took a turn for the worse.
“Would you like to go to sleep now, love?” Jimin asked, seeing Minjeong struggling to keep her eyes open out of the corner of her eye.
“Really? Isn’t it kind of early?”
“I’m quite comfortable, and you could use the rest,” Jimin said. “I’ll watch over you until you fall asleep.”
“Okay,” Minjeong said, snuggling into Jimin's hoodie. Jimin moved to the side to turn off her bedside lamp, but Minjeong stopped her. “Could you leave the lamp on? Maybe?” Minjeong asked quietly. “I just don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and think that–”
“–No need to explain yourself. I understand,” she said. “The light stays on.”
“Thank you, unnie,” Minjeong whispered, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Goodnight, my love.”
Jimin smiled despite herself. Minjeong didn’t use pet names often, but she’d grown more comfortable with it over time, not used to it after growing up in a house so deprived of love. Jimin's mother always called her “love” or “sweetheart,” at least she did when she wasn’t away for work, so the names slipped out of her mouth easily when she looked into Minjeong's dark, sweet, puppy-like eyes.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Jimin replied with a kiss to her forehead, pulling Minjeong as close to her as possible and listening for Minjeong's breaths, waiting for them to even out before she let herself fall into slumber. "I love you."