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Not many people were at the laundromat this early in the morning, much less outside. Seolhee had seen one other person on the way here, and they had barely blinked an eye as they passed by. Figures, no one was expecting a celebrity to be waiting for their wash to dry at a coin laundromat. Especially not one in a clear wash-day last resort hoodie that hung past her thighs with an old pair of jeans so worn they could be second skin. That was awfully benign.
She hummed along to Spring Day through her wired earphones, hypnotized by the whirl of clothes in the washing machine. The machines at her grandma's apartment had broken a month ago. The old woman was too stubborn to get it fixed and instead insisted on making the trek to the local laundromat. She had been doing this for weeks, even if Seolhee offered to pay for the repairs. Now Seolhee was here, bearing the brunt of the consequences.
She didn't mind too much. Her grandmother lived on the quieter outskirts of Seoul. This was where Seolhee had grown up and where she visited whenever she had a break. Not much happened here, which was exactly what Seolhee needed after a brutal promotional cycle of her group's latest EP. A peaceful vacation with her grandmother spent doing menial things like loading up laundry machines — Seolhee couldn't ask for more.
The laundromat door clanged into the wall, breaking the peaceful hum of the machines. Seolhee whipped her head around at the sound.
Standing in the doorway was a woman holding a lump of clothes. She had long, black hair that spilled like ink down her shoulders and framed her narrow face. A black cap shadowed her eyes, but when she lifted her chin Seolhee got a glimpse of them. Her stare was dark, cold, and a burning brown.
Seolhee thought she was very pretty. The woman was also covered in blood — a fact that should've crossed Seolhee's mind sooner but had instead taken a moment to register.
Her clothes were bloodied too. Seolhee took a quick scan of the clothes in the woman's bloodied hands. All of them were stained with red. It was hard to believe that this was all blood. Maybe the woman had rolled around in a vat of strawberry jam?
Then, the unmistakable scent of blood wafted over in the air and Seolhee retracted her previous thought.
See, the lady was covered in blood, but she didn't look murderous . She looked rather over it, as if everything was exhausting and draining and not worth her time. Which was to be expected about someone in the laundromat, minus the blood.
The woman's eyes slid over her before coming back, a barely noticeable double take. No recognition flared, however, and the woman continued her survey of the otherwise empty room. Unconsciously, Seolhee released her breath, tugging an earbud out as casually as she could. Frost coalesced at her fingertips, ready to defend if necessary.
She watched as the stranger walked to the nearest washer, dumping her pile in and closing it with a clang. There were only three washers total in this laundromat. Only one machine separated the two of them. She dug around her pocket for a while, evidently coming up empty of what she was searching for. A long sigh escaped her and Seolhee watched as she stalked over to the coin machine. Seolhee briefly considered offering up her own spare change but she didn't want to get smacked.
A barely restrained growl rumbled out of the woman’s chest as the coin machine processed her request. Seolhee mistook it for machinery noise until it happened again when the woman passed by to return to her washer. The woman tore off her cap and violently pulled down her blazer, revealing a loose tank top and well-toned biceps. Seolhee’s eyes widened. Those biceps could strangle someone. The washer’s door banged as the woman threw the blazer in, aggressively punching in buttons.
Her own washing machine beeped. Seolhee jumped, scurrying off to grab a cart instead of openly gawking. She kept her head down as she wheeled the cart from its corner to her machine, transferring the endless amount of clothes. Her neck flushed as she wrapped the mesh bag of her grandmother's undergarments with a hoodie.
Unfortunately, making the trip to the other side where the dryers were meant passing by the woman covered in blood. And really, Seolhee was now more annoyed than anything because it was seven in the morning and what could anyone be doing to have clothes stained with blood at seven in the morning? In a residential neighborhood?
She almost hoped the CCTV's were capturing everything just for the situation's sheer absurdity, but she also didn’t want to be seen in the same frame as a potential murderer so… Headlines flashed in her mind: Luna Snow, accomplice?
There wasn't enough room in her cart for all the clothes her grandmother sent her with. Seolhee gulped as she continued piling clothes on top of clothes. She was determined to make it in one trip, even if it killed her. Any more rounds would officially make her lose her cool in front of the killer with killer arms. A mini mountain continued to form.
The cart wobbled as she wheeled it forward, squeaking. She took small steps; maybe if she moved slowly enough, the other woman wouldn’t look her way. Internally, Seolhee was very much wishing to be invisible. The clothing mountain jiggled with every jerk of the cart. She was almost to the other side… almost…
Something tumbled from the top. Seolhee cursed under her breath, peeking over the mountain to see what had fallen. It was her hoodie. The hoodie she used to wrap the mesh bag holding her grandma's bras. Old, granny bras.
The mesh bag that was now rolling to a stop beside the stranger's shoes.
Seolhee stared downwards at the hoodie that betrayed her, splayed out like an arrow to the woman. In her peripheral, leather loafers stepped to the side, their toes now facing the bralettes. She said automatically, a bit dumbfounded at her luck, “Those aren't mine.”
Seolhee dragged her gaze from surprisingly clean shoes to an eyebrow so raised it looked like it hurt. The stranger was easily half a head taller, intimidatingly gorgeous. She rushed to explain herself, automatically bowing. “I'm so sorry. Yes, of course they're mine. I brought them here. I just meant that they aren't my bras–” she dove to pick them up. “–so, so sorry.”
“Not your bras…?” The woman asked. Her voice was lower than Seolhee had expected, a slight husk to it.
Somehow Seolhee flushed harder. “They're my grandma's, oh my God. I meant– I mean–. My bras are sexier.”
“Sexier.”
Seolhee covered her face and shoved her cart to the dryers with her elbows. Great. Now she definitely was going to be the next victim. Ice collected in her palms, trying to cool her down. She wiped them against her jeans. Her hands shook as she inserted two thousand won of coins.
The dryer started up with a shake. Seolhee glanced at the remaining time: one hour. There was no way she was staying in this building for another hour. Not with a stranger she accidentally revealed her bra preferences to. There was a Twosome Place right across the street. She could escape to the café for an hour. Perfect.
She ducked her head, lowering it even more when she passed the stranger in one last apology, and practically ran out.
Unfortunately, the stranger was still there when she came back, now with a magazine in hand. Her cap was back on her head, positioned higher than it had been earlier. Their eyes met awkwardly, and she nodded over to where Seolhee had left her laundry bag before continuing to flip aimlessly. No other words were exchanged.
Until.
“Would you happen to have any cash on you?”
Seolhee's eyes flicked over to the stranger. She considered her words carefully, not wanting to blurt anything inappropriate again. “For the dryer?”
The stranger nodded. The blood splatter on her tank top was really distracting, almost distracting enough for Seolhee to not notice how fit she was. “I used up all my cash for the wash. I need, like, seven-hundred won.”
“I think I got some…” Seolhee dug her wallet out of her sweatpants along with her phone. She pawed through it, pulling out two five-hundred won coins and handing them over. “Here.”
“Thank you.” Clothes were swiftly transferred to a dryer and they relapsed into silently standing next to each other. Seolhee glanced over to her own machine. Ten minutes left.
She stewed in the silence. She'd always been too curious for her own good. Plus, it wasn't like she was defenseless. She could always freeze the stranger in place. Before she could stop herself, she tried to ask around the issue. “So, uh… what do you do for a living?”
The responding sentence was quick, to the point and dry. “I'm police.”
“Right.”
A beat passed. This time, the woman spoke first. “You exclusively only have sexy bras?”
Seolhee choked.
“Just–. My go– not like that. It's just, you said it earlier,” the stranger rushed out. She took off her cap to run her hand through her hair, managing to make herself look a lot cooler than frazzled. “I'm making conversation.”
“I think people should like what they wear.” Seolhee said faintly, diplomatically, grasping at the straws of her media training.
“Right. Right. Of course.” She cleared her throat, cap back on, staring straight ahead at the wall. Her ears were turning a faint shade of red. It was kind of cute.
Seolhee eyed the bloodstain. She figured they both embarrassed themselves plenty at this point. “So, do you get drenched in blood often?”
“Not particularly,” came the mumbled reply. A beat. “It's not my blood.”
“Right. Because that makes it so much better.”
“Just. You know. Those weren't your bras; this isn't my blood.” The stranger's lips lifted in some semblance of a smile. “I'm Ami.”
So she could joke. “Seolhee.”
Ami opened her magazine again to a random page. Seolhee sucked in a quiet breath at the spread. It was an ad for the skincare brand she was an ambassador of. Of course, that meant she was the model for that specific shoot. Seolhee in the photo was dressed in a baby blue top, patting at her face with a toner pad. Her smile was radiant, too radiant in fact. Someone had definitely whitened her teeth in post.
Even if the face hadn't given it away, Seolhee was sure the atypical hairstyle did. Oh well. The anonymity was nice while it lasted. She steeled herself for the typical reactions, glancing at Ami’s reaction. Ami stared at the advertisement some more before turning to Seolhee. “You're Luna Snow.”
Seolhee wiggled her fingers, a snowflake disappearing as soon as it appeared. “The one and only.”
“What are you doing in the middle of nowhere?”
“I'd say this is close enough to Seoul for it to constitute as in Seoul.”
“You're visiting your grandma?”
“Yeah. How'd you figure that out so quickly?”
Ami gestured to the laundry basket. “You mentioned it was your grandmother's underwear. I didn't see any grandfather-esque shirts. If you aren't the parents of middle schoolers you have to be old to live here. You look too young to be the parent of middle schoolers."
Maybe she wasn't a police officer, but she could be a detective with those deductive reasoning skills. Seolhee blinked. “Spot on. Why do you live here, then?”
“It's private. Close enough to the city that I can commute.”
“Private enough to walk around covered in blood?”
“Are you not going to let that go?”
“Not until you tell me why, no.”
“Shame.” Ami only looked mildly annoyed. She opened her mouth and Seolhee thought she saw an elongated canine. It was gone in the next second. “What if I told you I got in a fight?”
“No injuries. Blood that's not your own.” Seolhee raised a brow. “I'd think you killed a man, or at the very least, it wasn't a fair fight.”
Ami rolled her eyes. Seolhee was starting to like this potential street murderer. She was sharp, never saying more than she had to. She had also continued talking to Seolhee like a regular person even after seeing her in a magazine. Seolhee had been prepared to sign the magazine for her, but she was glad she didn't need to.
Her dryer finished its spin cycle, announcing the end with a cheerful series of beeps. Seolhee readied her laundry bag, already dreading the walk back. It was well into the morning now and Seolhee wasn't too confident about making it safely without being noticed. And once she got home she'd have to fold the laundry, which was objectively the worst part of doing the laundry.
“I’m off.” Seolhee grasped at the handles of her basket. She lumbered over to the double glass doors and peeked her head out before promptly flinching back. Beyond the safety of the glass were parents and kids walking to school. She was definitely going to be recognized, maybe even photographed.
As soon as the thought rose to her mind, Ami was blocking her way. Her shoulders hid Seolhee from view, towering over the idol. Seolhee blinked up at her. She didn’t even see her move, she was so fast.
“You okay?” Ami asked, voice low and impossibly gentle.
“Yeah, of course.” Seolhee stepped back. “I wasn’t expecting school to start so soon.”
“They moved the time up a couple years ago, I think. So the elementary schoolers don’t overlap with the big kids.”
“Right. Well,” Seolhee sighed. “I guess I’ll… wait it out?”
Ami looked genuinely confused. “Why?”
“My likeness is plastered on the corner of this block.” Seolhee pointed out, flabbergasted. “And my hair? Eyes? There’s no way I’m not getting mobbed. Isn’t that why you blocked my exit?”
“Right…” Ami trailed off, fidgeting. “That’s why.” She shifted closer, causing Seolhee to take another step back. Ami drew to a halt, honeyed-brown eyes turning more soulful than they had any right to be.
Seolhee slowly placed her basket back on the floor, taking the chance to study Ami even further. She was both taller and broader than Seolhee initially had thought. She had an artful twist to her mouth, like she was seconds away from smirking at any given moment. Light bags hung under cat-like eyes narrowed in concern. She had high cheekbones, reminiscent of a couple idol friends.
The tank top she was wearing did nothing to hide her muscular frame and Seolhee was once again reminded of the fact that Ami had most-likely maimed a man.
“Look.” For as much as Seolhee was staring at Ami, it was obvious that she was doing the same. Ami took off her cap, flourishing and giving it a couple shakes in one smooth motion. She was slow as she brought the cap to Seolhee's head, almost reverent as she secured it. “That'll hide your hair with your hoodie. If it's low enough, it'll hide your face too? Is this how it works?”
Her hands were warm and heavy on the cap. Seolhee was momentarily lost for words, automatically placing her hands on top of Ami's. Her knuckles were rough, skin slightly cracked. Curious, Seolhee pulled them down.
Split skin greeted her, slight wounds already scabbing over. Seolhee frowned, tracing over her knuckles. As she did so, frost transmitted from her touch to Ami's cuts, melting into skin as they healed. A hiss escaped Ami's throat at the sudden cold. Seolhee snuck a peek at the sound. Ami looked…
Awed. Seolhee started to shrink away, but Ami caught her. She cradled Seolhee's hands as if they were fragile like a butterfly's wings. Her mouth parted in a silent oh, as she drew circles on Seolhee's palm.
“Thank you,” Ami breathed. “You didn't have to do that.”
“Take it as a thank you,” Seolhee shrugged. She gently extracted her hands from Ami's hold, immediately turning cold. Her eyes naturally lowered to her laundry hamper, suddenly shy.
Leather loafers repositioned themselves beside it. Ami's voice filled her ears again. “Let me walk you home.”
Seolhee lifted her head. “What?”
“Let me walk you home,” Ami repeated surely. “By the time my things are done, the streets will be empty enough for you to make it back home. I can make sure you stay safe.”
“How else am I supposed to return your cap?” Seolhee teased.
Ami smiled. “Exactly.”
Her machine had another twenty minutes left. Seolhee's eyes wandered over Ami's face, pausing long enough on her mouth to make her intentions clear. “However will we spend the time?” she murmured.
“I have a few ideas.” There was that annoyingly attractive curl of lip.
Seolhee hoped the CCTV's were broken. At the thought, she paused. She eyed the camera in the corner and towed Ami to what she hoped would be a blind spot. Ami crowded her against the wall, smirk widening.
“Pretty and smart,” she crooned in her ear. Seolhee fought off a blush.
“If this leaks, I'm going to leave you frozen in the Han River.”
“Is that a date?”
Her arms wrapped around Ami's neck and dragged her down. Chapped lips met her own, heady and sweet. A hand found its way to her hip, inching dangerously downwards. It disappeared under the hem of her hoodie, meeting denim. She bit at Ami's lower lip, pulling away. “That's not a date, it's a threat.”
“Don't threaten me with a good time, then.” Ami cupped her jaw, finger curling. She pressed in, meeting her with more heat, effortlessly deepening the kiss. Their mouths met in uneven rhythm, teeth bumping, never quite exactly in sync.
Seolhee could've languished in here forever and she wouldn't have had any complaints about it. Ami fluttered kisses down her jaw. They met again and again, slowly unwinding with no hurry.
“How serious is the getting caught on camera rule?” Ami asked the next time they broke for air.
“Why?”
“Because I really,” she bit at her earlobe, “really want to lift you up on that washing machine right now.”
Seolhee severed her moan into Ami's shoulder. Her teeth grazed skin, but she didn't dare bite. She latched herself against the crook of Ami's neck, barely whispering. “Unless you can guarantee that footage will be burned, no chance.”
“What if I can?”
Seolhee wrenched back. “What?”
Ami's eyes were wild, fierce. “I don't think you'd like to know.”
“This is a small business we're desecrating. My grandma's friends with the owner.”
Ami growled, clearly frustrated. “Nevermind.” She dove back into her efforts, aggression causing her teeth to sink into Seolhee's lip.
They barely heard the beeping of a completed cycle. Ami was the one to disentangle herself, head tilting towards the machines. Seolhee groaned, pushing herself off the wall with shaky legs. She watched as Ami moved toward the dryer, all coiled grace and lithe steps.
Seolhee fixed her hair and bent down to pick up the cap that had fallen to the floor. She snatched a plastic bag from the dispenser and held it out for Ami, who took it with an easy smile. She yanked out the blazer she had worn previously and donned it so that it covered most of the stains of her tank top. She shoved the rest of her clothes in and shouldered it. Seolhee turned to go grab her own basket near the front of the entrance but Ami was already there, lifting it with ease. She was unnervingly quick.
“Which way?” She asked, nodding towards the street.
Seolhee wordlessly fixed Ami's cap on her head and pulled her hood over it. She pretended to not see Ami's wolfish grin and pointed left.
“I don't think I should be leading you to where I live, though,” Seolhee mused as they walked the two blocks it took to get to the apartment complexes. “It can be a security risk bringing a murderer anywhere.”
“I thought we were over this.”
“You still have blood on your shirt.”
“So you don't want to continue what we were just doing?”
Seolhee side eyed her with a withering glare she knew could stop a horde of fans in their tracks. “I don't live alone.”
Ami laughed. “But I do.”
Seolhee sniffed, scuffing her well-trodden sneakers into the concrete. “Behave, and we'll see.”
There were worse ways to do laundry. And if this meant Seolhee could put off folding clothes for a… significant amount of time, she was willing to do anything.