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2025-10-07
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nights like this (in the city of stars)

Summary:

So remember when Yoonchae said: "Megan was explaining the constellations to me while we were looking at them. A shooting star flew by! I seriously almost cried.” Yeah...

Notes:

i'm talking about this of course:
https://x.com/weversekatseye/status/1857658121113792623

Work Text:

 

The stars are so much clearer in Los Angeles. Compared to Seoul.

It's one of the first things Yoonchae noticed when she first came here. In this country that's so different from her own. This was, ironically enough, something that made her feel less like an outsider. Looking at the stars, knowing that everyone else can see what she sees, from anywhere else in the world. No language barrier. No meanings lost in translation. The stars shine the same for everyone...There is something comforting about that thought.

A few feet away, the door opens, a patch of light pouring into the backyard as Megan steps outside. "Hey." She does a cute little wave. "The girls want to watch a movie on Netflix. Probably Twilight again if it's up to Manon." She starts humming a tune, that one Twilight song, then she laughs, her breath rattling with every exhale. Yoonchae watches as it curls out of her lips in puffs of steam, making clouds that melt into the air. November air has a bite to it. Megan should've worn a hoodie or something, Yoonchae thinks absently. She might catch a cold. But then again, Yoonchae isn't wearing long sleeves either. "So. Are you coming?"

Yoonchae shakes her head. "I want to stay here, a little longer. I like...looking at the stars."

"Yeah?” Megan smiles, moving closer. “Me, too. Do you know any constellations?”

Yoonchae shakes her head. Even though she does know some. If only vaguely. But Megan keeps moving closer, smiling at her, all sweet—whisker dimples and everything—and it's a little distracting. Yoonchae can't deal with the way Megan looks at her sometimes. It makes her heart do this thing. She doesn’t want to talk about it. She goes back to staring at the sky. The dark expanse of the star-speckled universe laid before her eyes.

“Here,” Megan says, “I’ll show you.”

She scoots a little closer, until their shoulders press together. A small, delicate touch. Yoonchae can feel the warmth radiating from Megan's body. And her skin smells faintly of lemons—citrus—from that perfume she likes to use so often.

"Look." Megan points up, tracing a shape with her finger. “See? That's the Big Dipper.”

Yoonchae cranes her head back, looking where Megan directed. She sidles a little closer, trying to get to Megan's vantage point, trying to see what Megan is seeing. The movement causes her arm to press against Megan's, bare flesh against bare flesh. Yoonchae feels goosebumps erupt across her skin.

“See?” Megan asks, shifting up a little on tiptoe to match Yoonchae's exact height, not needing to go up too far. “The Big Dipper...forming the body of...Ursa Major. You see it?”

Yoonchae just nods, keeping her arms stiffly by her sides. Her knuckles brush against Megan’s. Just barely. So it's not a big deal. Megan probably didn't even feel it. Yoonchae decides not to think about it. But she can feel her own hand twitch by her side—seized by a sudden longing—to grab Megan’s hand, maybe, to hold it.

"Yes," she says, her voice quiet and low. “I see it.” And if she can't look at Megan it's only because she can't. They’re too close. Their bodies. Their mouths. And if she can't look at Megan right now it's only because she knows how much she wants to. So she lets her eyes linger on the sky instead, finding shapes in the stars. “Ursa Major.”

“Yup. The Great Bear,” Megan says. “Ursa Major. Oh! Look!” She takes Yoonchae's hand into her own, so suddenly that Yoonchae's heart skips a beat. Her first instinct is to pull her hand away, overtaken by embarrassment, but she doesn't. She lets Megan hold it, and she holds it in a way that keeps the pointer finger raised, and like that, she traces a shape in the stars above. Yoonchae finds it hard to focus but she tries to follow that motion with her eyes. “See? That's Orion. I think."

Yoonchae smiles. Laughter bubbles up in her chest. A warm, fuzzy feeling. A chuckle slips past her lips. "You think?"

"Hey! Show me some respect. I'm your jie-jie." Megan bumps their heads together, and their laughter melds together. The sound of it slips down between Yoonchae’s ribs and wraps itself around her heart. She really likes the way her world feels when Megan is around. "I wanna show you something else. But you can't see it from here. Hmm. I need a marker."

Yoonchae’s brows pinch together in confusion. A marker? For what?

But Megan is already skipping her way inside the house and all Yoonchae can do is wait until she comes back. It doesn't take long. Megan is back in record time, twirling a pen between her fingers and nearly dropping it in the process. She giggles as she scoots closer, their shoulders once again brushing lightly. She lifts Yoonchae's arm, holding it between them. She positions it in a way that allows her to write on the inside of Yoonchae's wrist.

“Relax," Megan says, a lazy smile clinging to the corner of her mouth. "It’s not permanent. You can wash it off later.”

Yoonchae watches her draw a pattern of dots.

Then she watches Megan slowly connect them to form a shape. "Aquarius," she explains. "This is what my sign looks like in the stars. Cool, right?"

Yoonchae just nods. She doesn't trust her voice right now, she fears she might stutter. Her heart is beating too fast.

She wets her lips nervously and looks back up at the sky. The stars twinkle, growing brighter—they seem closer, somehow. She can almost feel them prickle over her skin, sinking inside of her and making every nerve-ending buzz, white hot and electric. It might be the stars. It might be just Megan. Just the feeling of Megan's finger tracing that shape on the inside of her wrist. Megan's constellation of stars on Yoonchae’s skin. It feels like the striking of a match, something hard and bright in Yoonchae's chest—and it’s something she won’t name, absolutely refuses to decipher.

"Holy shit!!" Megan shouts. "Did you see that?!"

A shooting star flew by.

"A shooting star..." Yoonchae whispers, in awe.

She turns to look at Megan, and Megan is already looking at her. Grinning. "Make a wish."

For a moment, Yoonchae swears she sees the starry sky in Megan’s eyes, twinkling lights and swirling galaxies, all pooled in seas of honey and hazelnut. And there’s this theory, right? This theory about the stars. About everything in the sky aligning just right and making the impossible happen, and maybe, just maybe, it’s not such a crazy thing to believe in, after all. Because here she is. Exactly where she’s always dreamt to be.

And she feels infinite.

 

★彡

 

One year later, in the middle of December, Megan takes Yoonchae to the Griffith Observatory to celebrate her 18th birthday even though it already passed and they already celebrated it once.

“It doesn’t matter,” Megan says, “We can celebrate it twice. Maybe we’ll celebrate it next week too. Why not?”

Yoonchae shakes her head, smiling.

Megan grins, reaching for Yoonchae's hand, interlacing their fingers.

Yoonchae doesn’t pull away. She holds Megan's hand, and she gives it an affectionate squeeze, and it doesn't feel wrong, at all, and maybe it never did.