Archive of Our Own ^omega

sohee toes her small heels off and places them on the rack, next to riwoo’s. she hangs her tote bag on a chair in the kitchen of their tiny apartment and goes to wash her hands.

heaviness has settled in her bones, but it’s the nice kind, that comes with the tiredness of a good practice day. yet, she’s still more than happy to be home.

she notices riwoo’s pensive silhouette seated on the even tinier balcony and smiles. a warmth suddenly fills her veins. her heart beats a little faster. after four years of being together, sohee is still so giddy, when it comes to her. oh, how much she loves her.

she goes to riwoo and finds that there’s already an empty chair, next to hers, waiting for sohee.

having heard her steps arrive closer, closer, riwoo turns to welcome her. sohee walks out through the open window. she’s met with the cool air of the night, with arms around her waist.

“welcome home, beautiful,” riwoo says, gently. she looks up at sohee with the prettiest light brown eyes. her smile is faint, but it’s there, it’s genuine. she’s so lucky that sohee comes home to her. 

sohee holds her face with a careful hand. she leans in and, with a kiss, she replies, “i’m home.” she smiles against riwoo’s lips, pecking them once, twice, before she parts. not far, never too far. she can’t breathe, if riwoo isn’t right here, with her.

riwoo feels the shape of her waist under her hands, so familiar, so perfect, till down her bare thighs. she squeezes them once, twice. sohee gives her a look, frowning, but amused. riwoo lets her go and sohee sits down. 

the city is so small up from the sixth floor of the building. sohee feels like she could take over it. she feels like she could take it in the palm of her hand. the lights are all tokens of a million different lives being lived, of a million different people being loved. she likes this thought.

“what were you thinking about, dear?” she asks. she holds riwoo’s hand and rests her head upon her shoulder. riwoo takes a hit from her pen, turns away from sohee, as she blows it out, before she answers.

“i was thinking about our future daughter,” she tells her. she’s a bit somber, but she’s smiling, faintly, her eyes glassy with emotion. she strokes circles on the back of sohee’s hand, softly.

“does she have a name?” sohee asks, again, because she’s interested in what riwoo has to say about this. she’s never really talked about it and sohee’s never felt the need to bring it up. they’re still only twenty-two. they’re already twenty-two. life passes by too quickly and they can’t hold onto it, to slow it down, to make it last longer, if only for a minute.

“sarang,” riwoo answers, her eyes unfocused, lost in the sight of the city. sohee takes her in. the shape of her nose, the sparkles in her eyes, the way her lips wrap around her pen. riwoo’s so beautiful. even more so, showered in moonlight, her orange hair clipped behind her head, like this.

“why sarang?” she noses at the curve of her neck, delicately. she places a long kiss there.

“because her mommies love her so much that she’ll only ever exist in their hearts,” riwoo replies. she breathes out a wet sigh. she wipes off the few tears that run down her cheeks. sohee holds her hand tighter, tighter, to let her know that she’s here.

the world is too unkind, unfair. and, no matter how hard riwoo can try to make it not that way, she can’t change it, she isn’t powerful enough. she doesn’t want to welcome her daughter, who didn’t ask to be born, in a society that’ll hurt her, from the second she takes her first breath. she doesn’t want to be this selfish. she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

“at least, she’s safe in here,” sohee whispers. riwoo nods, gently, affirming her words. she kisses the top of her head. her hair smells like vanilla shampoo. riwoo loves her. riwoo loves the fact that she doesn’t have to say anything for sohee to understand her, because she knows her heart.

she stands up, not letting go of sohee, but leading her up, too. then, she embraces her, so deeply in her arms. she doesn’t want to let her go, ever. her home isn’t a place, but a person, a girl, her girl, sohee. she feels so warm.

“in another life,” sohee starts, softly, softly, because she only needs her world to hear. “i would’ve loved to meet her and be a mommy with you,” she confesses, her soul on the edge of her lips, unable to hide from riwoo. but, she wouldn’t even want to. 

“yeah, me too,” is all that riwoo can reply, her voice small, overwhelmed with love, with what-ifs. she only has sohee. in this life, and the next, and the next, and all of the ones to come, she knows that she’ll only ever love the girl she’s holding, right now. she’ll only ever have her.

because sohee has seunghan, has wonbin. sohee has friends, whom she cherishes, who cherish her back, just as much. riwoo, on the other hand, doesn’t have anybody else. and, she swears, she’s fine with that. she doesn’t need more than the love of her life.

and, even if she’s bad with words, for sohee, she tries. sohee deserves her efforts. she deserves to know just how much she’s loved by riwoo. and, if riwoo has to go out of her comfort zone for that, then she’ll gladly take the step. she tightens her hold on her waist.

“i love you, sohee. more than you could ever fathom it,” she tells her. she confesses it in a whisper, in the curve of sohee’s neck, in this place that only she gets to kiss. there’s no metaphor, no comparisons. there’s nothing that images her love. but, she doesn’t need it to. her love for sohee isn’t images. her love is real.

sohee finds it in the food that riwoo goes out of her way to prepare. all of that, just because sohee said that she’d like to try it. she finds it in the songs that riwoo thinks she’ll like, in the way riwoo braids her black hair, in the kisses that riwoo leaves on her mouth and between her thighs. 

sohee kisses her temple. oh, how beautiful it is, that the part of riwoo that she likes to kiss most is called a temple. riwoo is hers. she finds solace, safety, faith, in the way riwoo looks at her, in the way she loves her, always. she smiles against her skin.

“i love you, too. and, i love loving you,” she whispers. in her neck, she feels a smile, a kiss, two, three. then, up, up her neck, riwoo drags her kisses, till she reaches the plumpness of sohee’s lips.

she parts to look at her, only for a moment, finding the window to her own soul in the endless twin galaxies of her eyes. she’s breathless. she’s heady. she doesn’t know anything, anything, except that she loves sohee. desperately. helplessly. she captures her lips in a long, heavy kiss, like the only air that she can get is from her mouth.

sohee whines at the back of her throat. she paws at her arms, then down at her stomach, then at the small of her back. she doesn’t know where to touch, wants to touch everywhere, at the same time, wants to be all over her, wants to be in her, wants to be one with her, wants the world to be confused about where she starts and riwoo ends.

she feels hot, hot, her blood boiling with love and want. she bites down onto riwoo’s lip. she scratches the naked skin of her shoulders with her pretty pink manicured nails. heat pools at the pit of her stomach, when it gets the most attractive, downright sinful sound out of riwoo. she’s going insane. she needs riwoo to touch her.

and, because riwoo knows her, because riwoo loves her, she understands that and slides her thigh in between her legs. she squeezes sohee’s waist. “bedroom?” she asks, in a hot breath against her girlfriend’s lips. her light brown eyes take sohee in, beautiful, goddess, impossibly riwoo’s. 

“mhm,” sohee hums, positively, as she kisses her, again, again, can’t seem to ever have enough of the taste of her. wild berries, perfect, girl. this is too much. this isn’t enough. this is exactly what it needs to be. oh, lord. she grinds down onto her thigh. skirt against jeans. cotton against denim. she needs more. she needs to be eaten by her, whole. till all that is left of her is the fabric of her clothes. she digs her nails in the butter smooth flesh of her.

riwoo gasps into the heat of her mouth. she kisses down her chin, her neck. in slow, gentle strokes, she lowers her hands down to the back of sohee’s thighs. sohee understands and wraps her legs around riwoo’s waist, as she lifts her up. her arms come to rest on her shoulders. her wrists are loosely locked behind her neck.

it turns her on so badly, the way riwoo can just hold her like this, lifting her up like she weighs nothing. she sucks a hickey behind her ear, one that’ll be impossible to hide, as riwoo walks them to their shared bedroom. her vape and her phone lay forgotten on the chair, on the balcony.

she pushes the door open with her foot. sohee licks over the bruise, bites it. the soft sound of her breathing loses itself directly in riwoo’s ear. it makes her own breathing harder, heavier.

she tries to close the door, to no avail, which gets the prettiest giggle out of sohee. riwoo can’t help but chase it with her mouth, kissing her, as she lays her down onto their bed, delicately, tenderly, like she’s riwoo’s dearest.

well, not like. because.

sohee is quick to bring riwoo back on top of her, the weight of her under her hands so hot, so real. she finds herself trapped under the cage of riwoo’s arms, under her stare, observing her. she’s breathless. there’s nowhere, nowhere, she’d rather be.

and, for a second, in the world, it’s just sohee and the love of her life. staring, taking each other in. brown on brown. softness, sparkles, stars.

words aren’t needed for them to understand each other. a look, a tilt of the head, the shadow a smile. i can never be completely myself if i’m not helplessly yours, too. hearts tighten. hearts explode. she can’t be completely herself if she isn’t helplessly hers, too. 

“you let me be your only flaw, thank you,” riwoo whispers, tracing over the moles on sohee’s face, fascinated, before she leans in to kiss them. butterfly touches, careful, desperate.

“if anything’s flawed about me, my love, it can never be you,” sohee replies, fondness on her tongue, dripping, dripping, into her words. she tucks a strand of deep orange hair behind riwoo’s ear. a look, a tilt of the head, the shadow of a smile. riwoo dives onto the perfection that are her lips.

she can taste the vanilla of her chapstick, smooth, sweet. she can taste the sound of her content hums. she can taste her, her lover, her sun. she never thought she’d have all of this. but, the heavens deemed her worth it, deemed her worth sohee. 

riwoo kisses down her jaw, down the curve of her neck. she noses at the skin there, the scent of her, of vanilla, strong enough to make her lose her mind. her stomach tightens. heat pools at her core.

she licks, bites, sucks. she wants the taste of her on her tongue, permanently. till she can’t eat anything that won’t taste like sohee. she wants to swallow every drop of her honeyed sweat, thirsty, parched, even. she wants to eat every millimeter of her. everything that sohee’s so kind to give her, to let her have.

“can i undress you?” riwoo asks, breathless, soft in a way she can only be around the one she loves. she strokes the bone of her hip with gentle thumbs. with hooded eyes – not hungry, but devoted – she takes her in. sohee squeezes the back of her neck. she traces along her earrings. she replies, her smile fond, “yes.”

riwoo reflects her smile. i love you. i love you and i don’t know anything else, but this. you’re everything and more to me. i would die without you. i would die. she doesn’t say it, but she hopes that sohee understands. through the delicate way she can’t help, but touch her.

sohee lifts her hips, just enough, for riwoo to take the skirt off of her. and, when she does, her fingers brush against her thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. she leaves the pink piece of clothing, unordered, on the bottom corner of the bed.

she notices that sohee’s panties are wet, already, but she doesn’t say. she keeps it to herself. she stores it deep inside her mind, next to the rest of the sexy facts about sohee, the fact that she’s so turned on, only from riwoo’s kisses. it’s so hot.

she unbuttons the first few buttons of sohee’s blouse. sohee’s breath gets caught in her throat. oh, how precious. riwoo chuckles and leans down to kiss her, kiss her breath away, even more. till the only air that she gets to breathe is from riwoo’s mouth. sohee whines, soft, perfect. she clings onto riwoo’s jaw. she wants her impossibly closer.

riwoo kisses her way down with every button that she undoes. sohee clutches at the bedsheets when she gets to the lower stomach, gasping a low, “fuck, i love you.” riwoo smiles and rests her head there, lingering for a few seconds, kissing her tummy. she loves how sohee squirms under her touch. she loves the red that colors her pretty face.

she kisses her way up, again, taking the blouse off of her, too. sohee’s so warm, so lovely, so here, with her. pushing herself on her hands, trapping her in, riwoo takes some time to take her in. the shape of her eyes, of her nose; the curves and dips of her chest, of her waist; the roundness of her angles. she reaches for the clasp on the front of her bra and undoes it, too. 

she helps sohee out of it, one strap, the other strap, then it’s gone, forgotten. there are marks on her shoulders, from where the straps were too tight, for too long. riwoo traces over them, touches them, one at a time, like they’re the most interesting thing she’s encountered. 

sohee sounds like she’s about to cry, when she asks, “will you undress, too?”

her heart is pounding, pounding, trying to reach riwoo’s halfway. she can’t lose her. she’s going to die. oh, lord. she needs to make her bleed with her nails, with her teeth. she needs to scar her. that way, everywhere she’ll go, sohee will be here, with her.

“if that’s what my love desires,” riwoo replies, her tone tender, with a kiss on her lips, because she can’t ever refuse her anything.

sohee keeps her there for a few moments, possessive, desperate, and digs her nails into her arms. riwoo kisses back, with as much fervor, with as much love.

“okay, okay, sohee-yah,” she draws back, chuckling, completely endeared. “i’m not going anywhere,” she tells her, she promises her, pressing across her bottom lip, with her thumb. “you’re everything i want.”

a few tears escape from sohee’s eyes and she wipes them off, gently.

she gets off of her lap, of the bed. sohee holds herself up onto her elbow, so she keeps looking at her, as she shimmies her jeans off. riwoo relishes in the attention. she slips her tee over her head and lets it fall at her feet. she isn’t wearing anything underneath, because she already took her bra off, as soon as she came back home.

sohee checks her out, shamelessly, choked up over the fact that she gets to call this girl hers. 

riwoo unclips her hair. orange falls behind her like sunset. she clips it back up, again. “how do you want me, love?” she asks, coming back on the bed, tucking a strand of her messy long hair behind her ear. sohee’s eyes are glassy with need.

she doesn’t resist it, she couldn’t, when riwoo pushes her back against the mattress. 

“i wanna ride your fingers,” she answers, breathless, squirming in place at the thought of it. there’s no point in hiding. riwoo knows her. sohee can’t say however you want, anymore. riwoo can see through her. riwoo can see that she wants something specific. riwoo wants to give it to her. and, sohee can’t resist that.

“alright, we can do that,” riwoo smiles, cupping her cheek, so tenderly. she leans down to kiss her. something quick, but soft, genuine. “you’re so beautiful,” she whispers, like a secret, gentleness dripping from her tongue. she kisses her, again. because she can, because she desperately wants to.

sohee dives her nails into the delicate flesh of her back and lets herself be held, be moved, finding herself straddling riwoo’s thigh. riwoo’s hands are resting on the small of her back, bringing her closer, closer. this love is so warm.

sohee kisses like she sings. focused. passionate. riwoo eats every noise that she makes like a woman starved. she keens at the pain that her girlfriend traces along her back. she relishes in the way sohee grinds onto her thigh, chasing her high.

riwoo caresses down her butt, outside her left thigh, then in, then up. her panties are soaked through. riwoo teases a finger in, over the fabric, whispering, “tell me how much you love me.”

sohee gasps, broken, beautiful. a few tears roll down her flushed cheeks. her nails dig deeper. she leaves red half moons in the smooth canvas of riwoo’s shoulders.

“i love you,” she cries, mesmerizing, riwoo’s favorite song. she’s so pretty. sohee’s the prettiest girl in the world. riwoo is so helplessly in love with her. and, to be able to love her, just like this, riwoo feels like she’s doing, at least, one good thing in her life.

she pulls sohee’s panties aside. slowly, she pushes a knuckle in, two, three. she touches her with endless care.

“i love you, baby, riwoo-yah, oh–” she confesses, as she starts moving up, down. she throws her head back with a breathy gasp. she’s glowing. all glassy tears and pink. riwoo’s core is throbbing.

riwoo kisses sohee’s chest, as she pushes a second finger in, just as gently. she bites, here, there, but never enough to hurt. sohee’s sounds are making her heady.

“look at me,” sohee asks. so, riwoo does. “riwoo, i love you so much, i feel like i’m losing you. this doesn’t even make any sense, because you’re right here, but i just, i don’t know, fuck,” she cries, wiping her tears away, her heart raw in riwoo’s hands. she ups her pace on riwoo’s fingers.

her heart tightens, tightens, until the pressure is too much. “babe, you can’t ever leave me. i love you so much, oh, god, i love you, i’d die without you,” she smiles, wet, pink, beautiful. so beautiful.

sohee stares into the light brown of her eyes and, deeply, riwoo stares back.

she isn’t a believer. but, oh, goodness. she thinks she could make a religion of the way sohee’s mascara’s smeared under her eyes, so messy, so perfect.

seated on the counter, riwoo watches as her girlfriend moves about the kitchen. sohee’s only making instant ramen and, still, she’s never looked so pretty. seriously, it’s unfair, just how pretty she is under the ugly led lights.

her long black hair is still a little humid from when riwoo’s washed it, half an hour ago. her cheeks are dusted with a soft red. she’s only wearing a large tee and panties. riwoo can see the petal-shaped bruises that she’s left about her thighs.

her heart is tight, tight, with love. despite all of the bad things that riwoo did, all the bad things that were done to her, sohee still chooses her to share her vulnerability with. sohee’s seen her wrongs, her mistakes, her blues. and, still, she chooses her. because she loves her. oh, how precious it is to be loved by sohee. riwoo won’t ever take this feeling for granted.

“almost done!” sohee tells her. she places the lid on top of the pot, turns off the stove, then turns to riwoo. she smiles at her, lovely, so lovely. she seems so light, like she’s flying, riwoo’s guardian fairy.

except, she’s real, she’s the realest thing riwoo’s ever had the chance to touch. she comes close and riwoo’s legs fall open so sohee can fit in between them. “hi,” sohee says, tucking her hair, delicately, behind her ear.

riwoo leans into her touch and replies, with a chuckle, “hi.” she rests her hands on her waist, kneading, just a little, “you come here often?” she jokes. sohee can see her pretty canines as she smiles. how lovely. her heart skips a beat, two. she can only kiss her answer on riwoo’s lips.

it’s giggles and chasing after the sound of the girl she loves. riwoo brings her closer by her heels in the soft muscle of her thighs. she revels in the warmth of her hand, possessive, loving. sohee hums, something akin to a song, deeply content, satisfied. riwoo swallows it. the blood in her veins pulses to the rhythm of it.

“i’d die, too,” she whispers, feeling warm, safe. she parts only for a second, before she captures sohee’s lips, again. she can’t bear to be away from her. she’d die. her heart would wilt. she isn’t saying it just because. she means it.

“i’d lose myself, sohee. i’d die,” she tells her. her soul comes up her throat and clogs it. she kind of can’t breathe. sohee’s holding her, dearest, perfect. sohee’s looking at her with the endless starry night of her eyes. there can never be anyone else.

sohee places a kiss on the corner of her lips. riwoo’s a little choked up. a lot in love. there can never be anyone else.

sohee leans in, into her arms, into her warmth. she pushes her body closer, closer, against riwoo’s. because close won’t ever be close enough. she hides into the curve of her neck. she hugs her tight.

riwoo chuckles. a couple of tears escape her eyes against her will. oh, she’s young and a fool. she knows she’ll choose sohee over, and over, and over, again. till they’re old, gray, with deep lines decorating the corners of their smiles, a token of a happy life. till their atoms find each other in the stars, once more.

riwoo slips her hands under sohee’s shirt. her deft fingers against the softness of her girl’s tummy, going up, up, till she holds her ribs. she strokes the skin there with gentle thumbs.

she can feel the pulse of her heart under her touch. soft, but quick. just as though it’s trying to get out of her chest and crawl its way to riwoo’s.

riwoo places a long kiss behind sohee’s ear. she breathes in the vanilla scent of her shampoo. the scent of her. oh, she loves sohee so much, she doesn’t know anything else.

“you know,” she whispers, just as she would a secret. “it’s so wonderful to be alive with you,” she confesses. she bares her soul. sohee is the one only who has the faintest idea of what she truly means, when she says something. “i’m sorry that i forget, sometimes,” she apologizes. she kisses the curve of her neck, every mole, there. tender. infinitely tender.

a satisfied sigh escapes the beauty of sohee’s lips. a shiver runs down riwoo’s spine. sohee’s fingers take the same path, up to her neck, instead. she tucks a strand of orange hair behind riwoo’s ear.

“for someone who claims not to be good with words, i think you’re doing a pretty nice job,” sohee smiles. she’s tilting her head in this pretty way that makes riwoo’s heart flutter. she’s so sweet.

with eyes the color of liquid vanilla, sohee stares into riwoo’s, charming, so lovely. she rests her forehead against hers. she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. this is home.

“you’re more human than how much the world allows you to be. it’s absolutely fabulous to be alive with you, riwoo-yah,” she tells her, truthful, genuine. she’s so glad that all of the choices that she made led her to here, to now, to riwoo. beautiful riwoo, so beautiful, so comfortable in her own skin. whose love holds sohee up.

she cups her face. she squishes her cheeks. oh, she’s so cute. she pecks her lips with utter blissfulness. riwoo makes happiness overflow out of her, so much, she doesn’t know what to do with it, sometimes. so, she kisses her and hopes that she understands.

sohee parts and, with a lightness to her feet, with her giggle to her lips, goes to take care of their forgotten ramen. she’s the loveliest thing riwoo’s ever had the chance to love.

“i got the email,” sohee states, her eyes wide, stressed, excited, at the same time. riwoo shuts her book close and looks up at her with a similar expression, except less anxious, because she knows that sohee got in.

she’s applied for one of the greatest singing schools in the world – her dream school, with nothing, but hope. she’s sent a few tapes and videos. she knows that she’s a good singer, she knows. but, is she good enough to get in? she’s not sure.

she turns the screen of her phone towards her girlfriend and, indeed, there is the email, waiting to be opened. so insignificant in its looks, stuck between a vinted notification and a phone bill, yet, holding sohee’s future in its contents. 

riwoo looks at her with reassuring eyes. “do you wanna sit down? read it together?” she asks, patting the spot beside her on the sofa. she tilts her head, prettily, easing sohee’s erratic heart. there’s nothing more comforting than the softness of her angles. sohee hurries to sit down.

she doesn’t leave any space between them. from thighs, to sides, to shoulders, they share body heat. this is nice, so nice, always. riwoo’s warmth. it’s keeping her alive.

riwoo places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “you’re the best, okay? the greatest,” she tells her, tucking a strand of her hair, softly, behind her ear. she traces along the constellation of her moles.

sohee huffs, rolling her eyes, but a faint smile tugging at her lips. “you’re just saying that because you love me,” she chuckles, not putting herself down, per se, but her insecurities are still bleeding in her words. that’s what happens when so much has been expected of her, too much, always. when she has to be perfect, but she’s still just human.

“you know how much i mean it, sohee,” riwoo replies, gently, because she doesn’t know how else to hold the girl that she loves. she’ll be here to remind sohee just how worth she is to her, to the world, as many times as she needs.

sohee leans in and kisses all of the words she can’t begin to say on her lips. thankfulness. warmth. love, so much love. she overflows with feelings for riwoo. she believes that she doesn’t want to meet the person she would’ve been, hadn’t she met her.

“okay, let’s do this,” she breathes in, when she parts, riwoo’s love holding her up.

riwoo places her chin on sohee’s shoulder. time is frozen. their breaths are held. she watches as sohee clicks on the email. it opens. the world changes axes.

dear mrs lee,

congratulations on your admission.

riwoo doesn’t read any further. she doesn’t need to. sohee screams, so happily, and she joins her in her joy. her heart is so full. she’s so proud of her. she knows all of the hard work that sohee’s put into this. and, it’s paid off, finally. 

then, so suddenly, her lap is full of the prettiest girl in the world. her hands find her waist, soft under the fabric of her tee, and remain there. sohee cups her face with pretty manicured fingers. she’s smiling so big. “i did it,” she says, a couple of tears running down her cheeks.

“you did it,” riwoo repeats. her voice is wet, her throat is clogged with feelings holding indescribable depth. her eyes are shining with unshed tears. sohee places a few kisses, quick, blissful, on her lips.

“i gotta tell seunghan,” she exclaims, excitedly, getting off her lap. she skips around the living room. “and mama! oh my god, i gotta tell mama immediately,” she continues, her tone, so pretty, so bright.

riwoo chuckles, so hopelessly in love, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. sohee’s so beautiful. she can only admire her. completely in awe.

sohee, in her hello kitty pajamas, bathing in the midday sun that’s coming through the window, beaming as she waits for her mother to pick up. riwoo is too lucky to be allowed to love her.

she simply watches, oh, so endeared, as sohee holds a conversation with minseo. they giggle, at first, so enthusiastic, so ecstatic about the news. fresh, twinkling, like a fairy song. like breathing again.

“oh, my baby, i’m so proud of you,” minseo tells sohee. her voice wavers. and, cue the waterfalls.

sohee feels her heart tightening, tightening, because her mother’s raised her all on her own. minseo’s gone back to school at thirty-two so that she could have a better job, better money, to take care of her. minseo’s struggled to keep the balance between her health, her job, her classes, and her daughter. yet, she’s never complained. she’s sacrificed everything that she’s so difficultly earned, so that sohee could have a nice life, could follow her dreams, the way she’s never been able to.

sohee goes to sit back down into riwoo’s open arms. she tucks her head upon her shoulder. with a comforting touch, so gentle, riwoo brushes back the hair falling into her eyes. her hand, then, settles on sohee’s shoulder. she rocks them from side to side.

“thank you,” sohee manages through her tears. it holds so much more depth than riwoo or minseo could ever fathom. sohee knows of all that her mother’s given up, just so that she could be here, now. she won’t let minseo’s efforts go to waste.

riwoo’s warmth embraces her like the afternoon sun in early may. loving. soothing.

“riwoo, darling, take care of my baby, yeah?” the woman asks, her voice still wet, through the speaker of sohee’s phone. tears prickle behind riwoo’s eyes. she has to swallow the lump in her throat. and, she can only answer with a soft, “of course.”

because, of course, she's taking care of sohee. because, in riwoo’s world, it’s not an option to not take care of her. what would the greater heavens have made her for, if not to take care of sohee, to love and to cherish her? riwoo is made of moonlight and love for her girlfriend.

minseo chuckles. she’s grateful that riwoo’s entirely serious about her daughter. she’s grateful that riwoo loves her, endlessly. so endlessly, in fact, that even the most oblivious of people is able to see it. she utters a soft, endeared, “goodbye, girls.”

sohee replies, so impossibly pretty in the way her lips curve up, “goodbye, mama. i love you.”

she hangs up. her arm around sohee’s shoulders, riwoo rubs tender circles over the fabric of her pajamas. i got you, it says, sohee doesn’t need riwoo to speak it. she knows. riwoo is everything she’ll ever want and more. she dries her tears with the heel of her hand.

riwoo places a long kiss upon her temple. sohee smiles.

“let’s call seunghan,” she announces, already searching for her best friend’s contact, the sound of her nails satisfying against the screen of her phone.  riwoo agrees with a hum.

it takes approximately half a second for seunghan’s face to take up the whole screen. “what’s up,” they ask. the angle would be unflattering to anybody else, but seunghan makes it work, because they’re so pretty.

“i got in,” she says, unable to bite her smile back. 

seunghan remains surprised, speechless, for a second. their eyes and mouth open and close dumbly, like a fish. how cute.

“girl, no fucking way!” wonbin’s voice is far as they scream, excited. sohee and riwoo can hear their hurried steps coming closer. then, in a muted thud, wonbin falls onto the bed. they stick their face to their lover’s so that they both fit in the camera’s range.

“girl, yes fucking way!” sohee replies, her smile splitting her face in two.

wonbin just screams with excitement. sohee follows. seunghan follows. riwoo can’t help, but fall into a fit of giggles. this is friendship. this is love. this is what life is all about.

“i’m so happy right now,” seunghan says, utterly thrilled, before they let out another screech, very close to the camera. it makes sohee laugh out loud.

“oh my god, wonbin-unnie, are you crying?” riwoo butts in, her tone teasing, because it’s always harmless fun to make wonbin flustered.

“don’t make fun of me, brat,” they tell her, with no bite behind their words. riwoo chuckles. “i’m just really proud of you, sohee-yah,” wonbin replies, their cheeks flushed, shiny tears all over them. sohee’s laugh melts into a fond smile at their words.

“thank you,” she says, her voice trembling. she’s so lucky to have friends who celebrate this accomplishment of hers as if it’s their own. she’s so lucky to have people who love her. a few tears run down seunghan’s face. “okay, guys, i’m gonna hang up before this call turns into a mess of sobs,” she tells them. they nod positively.

“sure, yeah, good idea,” seunghan chuckles, wiping the tears out of their eyes before they can even fall. sohee waves at them. she fake kisses the camera. it makes the couple laugh something watery and loving.

“we love you so much, bye,” wonbin says. sohee’s answer is to leave a few more fake kisses to her camera. then, she hangs up. she lets out a content sigh. riwoo thinks she’s so beautiful.

sohee climbs onto her lap, once more, because there’s no place else she’d rather be. she traces shapeless lines wherever she reaches, riwoo’s neck, her back, her arms, with the tip of her nails.

sohee knows that they’re celebrating her. that today is her day. but, being loved by riwoo means every day is her day. because every day is all there is and riwoo makes her feel like the most special girl in the world. because every day is all there is and riwoo loves her so much, she could die. oh, god.

“can i paint your nails, please, love?” sohee asks, smiling, so fondly, in a way that she simply can’t control. she loves to paint riwoo’s nails. it makes her feel close. it makes her feel like she’s into her soul, her identity.

riwoo painting her own nails is something that is really important to her self-expression. it’s something that’s really personal. gender-affirming. it can seem trivial, insignificant, not mattering much. but, it does. it’s what matters most. so, letting someone into the very bubble of herself, is the greatest statement of love she could ever make.

“yeah, of course,” riwoo answers, quiet, soft. she leans into sohee’s touch. it’s obvious. she loves her. so much, that she allows herself to be vulnerable. to let the very essence of herself into the hands of the girl she loves.

the next day, she roams about the world with sparkly dark blue nails.

it’s a couple of weeks after this moment that sohee starts to look for an apartment. it’s a couple of weeks after this moment that riwoo realizes that she might be a terrible person.

they’re seated at the kitchen table, both of their laptops open, searching, hunting for a place for sohee to live in. riwoo is tired. they’ve been at it for hours, now. she looks over at her girlfriend.

she’s the prettiest thing.

and, she doesn’t ever want to let her go. she wants to keep her here, by her side. she doesn’t want her to be hours away. she doesn’t want to be hours away from her.

she feels a sour taste on her tongue and tears pushing behind her eyes. she’s so selfish. she’s so selfish for wanting sohee to stay right by her, all the time. for, in the deepest and ugliest parts of her, wanting sohee not to go to her dream school. she closes her laptop with a bit too much force.

riwoo can’t be sohee’s lover thinking this way. sohee deserves so much better than a sickly possessive girlfriend. oh, good lord.

sohee looks at her with her eyebrow raised in concern. “are you okay, love?” she asks. her voice is small with exhaustion. god, riwoo loves her so much. her stomach churns with an unadulterated feeling.

she wants to answer, no. i don’t want you to go. i’m selfish. i’m not the person you fell in love with, anymore. and, i’m even more selfish, because i don’t want to tell you this. because i don’t know how to. but, instead, she says, “yes, sorry, just tired.” her lips curl up in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. sohee, ever loving sohee, smiles back with understanding.

“i’m gonna head to bed,” riwoo tells her. she places a tender kiss on her cheek. she needs to sleep these thoughts away. tomorrow can only be better.

“sweet dreams, baby,” sohee replies. she passes her hand into the orange strands of riwoo’s hair. “i love you,” she whispers, like a secret, into the warmth, into the domesticity, of this home that they built together.

riwoo’s heart breaks when she says, her tone no louder, “i love you, too.” more than i love life. more than i love myself. more than anything.

sohee holds her hand till she can’t, anymore, as she walks towards their shared bedroom.

riwoo lets the mattress and the sheets embrace her. she wants to scream. she wants to cry. she wants to tear her hair out of her scalp. she does none of it. she falls asleep to the sound of sinatra’s voice.

sohee, when she joins her, an hour later, stops the music and kisses her temple.

“sohee, can we talk?” riwoo asks, her voice hesitant, trembling, because she doesn’t want to do this. she doesn’t want to end things with the love of her life. but, it seems to be the only option.

after her heartbreaking realization, a month ago, already, she’s been thinking. about herself. about sohee. about their relationship. about what it all meant for them. it’s been shattering her to come to the same conclusion, every time.

riwoo loves sohee. she loves her so, so much, that she needs to let her go. she’s not the person sohee fell in love with, anymore. she’s not changed for the better. she’s grown too attached that it’s in the verge of becoming toxic. but, riwoo’s too self-aware to let it become this way. that’s why she has to do this.

she wants sohee to remember this relationship as something comfortable, healing. she wants sohee to remember her as someone safe, selfless.

sohee looks at her with confusion written all over her face. she’s so frowny. how cute. riwoo wants to cry. tears start to clog her throat. but, she swallows them down, along with the will to not do this. she has to.

“sure,” sohee replies, moving aside, so that riwoo can sit next to her. she notices the glassiness of her eyes. she notices the way she fidgets with an earring on her left ear. riwoo does this when she’s nervous about something. scared. sohee notices, because she loves her. she doesn’t need any other reason.

riwoo sits down. she leaves a space between them. she doesn’t make their thighs touch, likes she does, always. sohee doesn’t like this. something is wrong.

she reaches over to hold riwoo’s hands. she’s going to hurt herself, if she keeps on pulling, pulling, pulling on her earring. riwoo lets her take them. she heaves a shaky breath and the only thing sohee wants is to take her pain away. she can’t bear to see her lover hurting. “baby, what is it?” she asks.

riwoo strokes the back of her hands with gentle thumbs. she takes sohee in, every mole, every millimeter of the tan skin that she helplessly loves. her heart tightens. she can’t break down. not right now.

“i think we should break up,” she says. her voice is low. she isn’t looking at sohee. she can’t. she’s weak. she’s weak and a coward.  she doesn’t want to see the way sohee’s face falls at her words. she swore to herself that she wouldn’t ever hurt her girlfriend, but she is. she bites back a sob.

“oh?” sohee reacts, under her breath, confused. riwoo’s close, so she hears it, anyway. she feels her heart coming up her throat.

“fuck, this is impossible,” she breathes out. she knew it’d be hard. she knew it’d shatter her soul. but, oh, this is insurmountable. she can’t survive this.

“what’s going on, baby?” sohee asks, always soft, always gentle. always what riwoo doesn’t deserve.

“i’m so sorry, sohee-yah,” she tells her. her voice breaks. but, even if she’s bad with words, for sohee, she tries. for better and for worse. that’s what she vowed herself to do. “i’m sorry, i don’t wanna do this, either,” she chuckles, humorlessly, wetly. 

sohee looks at her with patient eyes as she waits for her to tell her what’s on her pretty, shaken and pretty, mind.

riwoo takes in a breath that stings every cell in her body. everything hurts.

but, it doesn’t matter that she suffers, if it means that her beautiful sohee doesn’t. she’ll realize soon enough that riwoo isn’t breaking up to hurt her, but to save her. from herself.

“i, just, uhm…” she hesitates. there are so many things she wants to say. she doesn’t know where to start. her thoughts are all over the place. “i don’t want you to leave, sohee. i want you to stay here, in korea, with me,” she decides to say. because it’s the easiest thing to admit. even though nothing about this is easy. she bites the inside of her cheek.

sohee’s face is painted with a mix of emotions that she struggles to hide. confused. pretty, impossibly so, in the way her eyebrows meet in a frown. 

“and, i caught myself thinking i didn’t care for your dream, if it meant you’d stay here,” she confesses. a burning guilt fills her veins. “oh, love, i hate myself for this. i can’t look at myself in the mirror. i mean, of course i care. i’m so proud that you get to follow your dream,” she smiles, fondly, sadly. then, she sighs something completely defeated. she swallows her tears, again.

“it’s selfish of me to ask this of you, i know. i just… you don’t deserve to love someone that’ll weigh you down, emotionally. i need to work on myself. i need to become worthy of you, sohee,” she says. she tightens her hold on sohee’s hands. she has to make sure that she’s here, that she’s listening, because she won’t be able to speak these words again. “that’s why i think we should put this relationship to an end. i don’t trust myself enough to not turn it into something sour,” she tells sohee. the words seem so far away, she could make herself believe she isn’t the one saying them. but, the stab-like hurt in her neck is enough of a reminder.

“i’m endlessly sorry, my love. i hope you’ll forgive me,” she says. she brings sohee’s hands to her forehead in surrender. she doesn’t have any strength left.

she doesn’t understand how she’s still breathing. the warmth of sohee’s skin under hers is her greatest comfort and heartbreak.

“okay,” sohee answers. she’s trying hard not to let her pain be heard, but alas, she’s never been good at that. “okay, yeah, sure,” she agrees, going against the very essence of herself for the girl that she so helplessly loves. it’s shattering her. but, what is there more to fight for? riwoo’s decision is final.

“i understand,” she says, tears silently wetting the red of her cheeks. and, truly, she does. sohee goes out of her way to understand others, even if it costs her. time. mental health. self-worth. it’s more of a curse than it is a blessing.

she wishes riwoo wouldn’t shy away from the very consequence of her own words. her heart is heavy. “come on, riwoo-yah, can’t you look at me?” she begs. not angry, never angry at riwoo. desperate comes closer to how she feels. “i’m not liking this conversation, either, you know? don’t leave me alone in it,” she asks of her, her tone broken, powerless. 

it takes riwoo all of her strength and more to look up. her head is pounding behind her eyes. her heart aches, aches, tears everything in her. she feels the air being knocked out of her lungs when her sight lands on sohee’s flushed cheeks, on her ruined mascara. she lets go of sohee’s hand to wipe her tears away. light, delicate, because sohee deserves nothing less.

“i’m sorry, love. i’m here,” she whispers. she blinks her unshed tears away. she swallows endless apologies. she can’t break down. not right now. not when her sohee’s crying. not when she made her cry. she doesn’t get to.

“i’m here,” she says, no louder, because the moment is still so fragile. sohee brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear and traces along her jaw. gently, she holds her face. she rests her forehead against riwoo’s.

“can’t i have you till i leave?” she asks. small. broken. her heart is hammering against the cage of her ribs.

“please,” riwoo begs.

the next few days go by alright. neither of them are acting as though nothing’s happened, no. it’s too scarring. but, they’re fine. mostly. they have to make the most of the time that they have left together. they shouldn’t fill it with the future.

sohee lives with the knowledge that this domesticity that they’ve built is coming to an end sooner than later. that she’ll leave this happiness behind to chase her dreams.

riwoo feels the lingering sadness hover over her. she tries, as she might, to convince herself that it won’t happen. that sohee won’t head to the united states, while she’s staying here, in korea.

the kisses they share are as bitter as they are sweet.

riwoo fights her exhaustion so that she can take in the painting that is sohee, sleeping, beautiful and unguarded. she’s trusting riwoo with her vulnerability. awake and asleep. soon, too soon, in only a couple of weeks, sohee’s spot will be cold and empty. oh, riwoo shouldn’t think of this.

she passes her finger on the apple of her cheek. the moon shines through their open window and breaks through sohee’s hair, lights up her skin. riwoo blinks some tears away and smiles. nobody will ever come close. nobody will ever compare. she’s young, yes, but she knows sohee’s it  for her.

sohee’s spot will be cold and empty. riwoo won’t warm it up with another body in her stead. she’ll wait till sohee waltzes back into her life and takes her rightful place. she’s ready to wait her whole life, if she has to. and, if sohee doesn’t come back, if she finds her deserved happiness elsewhere, then riwoo won’t have anyone to blame, but herself. sohee’s the only one.

tightening, wringing itself, her heart makes her whole body ache. with love. with loss. sohee’s her dearest. she won’t be able to be herself without her. she’ll leave and take a part of riwoo’s soul with her. lord, riwoo feels her sadness push all over her organs, making it so, so hard to breathe.

“come sleep,” sohee mumbles, half-awake, turning on her other side to offer riwoo herself to spoon. riwoo remains softly surprised for a second or two. she thought that she was fully asleep. or did she wake her? she doesn’t want to know. it’s too much efforts for her sad soul, anyway.

she kisses sohee’s naked shoulder and hugs her close. she draws the covers up so it embraces them both.

two days later, the nation’s favorite couple come by their place with a strawberry cake. sohee’s favorite. because wonbin and seunghan love sohee and they want to apologize for not being able to send her off at the airport.

riwoo’s so thankful for them. they don’t want any more than what they have with sohee. they’re not cutting her off from their lives because she decides to follow her dreams, on the other side of the world. they support her, fully, and are ready to do what it takes not to lose their friendship.

meanwhile, when adoration and obsession share a fence, riwoo’s sitting on top of it.

she notices wonbin holding seunghan’s hand under the table. she notices seunghan stealing kisses off of wonbin’s lips when they think that no one’s looking. she notices. jealousy bubbles in her stomach. her and sohee were supposed to be like that, on the brink of marriage, at only twenty-three. but, they won’t be, because they’re still twenty-two and riwoo doesn’t know how to be selfish. because she loves sohee so much, she leaves her.

riwoo can’t breathe. the atmosphere is suffocating. she fucking hates airports. the sticky floors. the rush that only stops once she gets out. the departures that she doesn’t know when will return. the heaviness of the air. the panic. so, so much panic.

the only thing keeping her there, in the moment, is sohee’s hand in hers. she can’t be anywhere else when this is the last time she’ll see her in a while. when, once she sends her off, sohee won’t be hers, anymore. she feels a faraway vertigo ready to sway her world. but, sohee squeezes her hand, she squeezes back. it doesn’t come. 

minseo is on sohee’s other side, walking her suitcase, smiling. “this is so exciting!” she says, as she looks around the airport. riwoo wishes she were even half as enthusiastic about this.

they sit by sohee’s gate. riwoo, sohee, side by side. minseo, opposite of them, letting them have their space.

it’s weird. it’s so weird to riwoo that in just about three hours, her life will never be the same, anymore. she’ll go home to an empty flat, to an empty bed. she won’t have anyone to share her meals with. just like that. in the blink of an eye. in the snap of fingers. sohee won’t be in her life. she’s been with riwoo for years and now, she’s leaving. she’s taking a step into becoming the person she wishes to be and riwoo just–stays.

sohee rests her head in the crook of her shoulder. warm. solid. present. like it belongs here. she’s not letting go of her hand. riwoo wants to cry.

but, she swore that she wouldn’t, not in front of sohee.

they don’t really say much, after. they listen, tired, endeared, as minseo monologues about dreams, about sohee’s first steps. she tells sohee that she’s so proud of her, no matter what. she tells sohee that if she wants to come back, that if the united states feel too big, her mama’s arms are open. they’re her first home and she can always, always, return.

sohee feels emotion clog her throat. now, she understands why airports see more declarations of love than churches do. she wishes she could tell her mother how grateful she is for everything that she’s done for her, but it goes beyond words. sohee’s leaving for another country and minseo will be able to take care of herself, first. as long as sohee’s been here, even before, probably for all her life, minseo’s never been able to put herself first and sohee wants nothing more for her, than this. it all comes down to a soft, “thank you, mama,” and the hope that she understands every word laying underneath it.

minutes pass by, too quickly for what they actually are, and riwoo holds sohee closer. she tightens her hold on her shoulders and sohee cuddles closer, her hair brushing on riwoo’s jaw. it’s perfect. it’s not enough. riwoo’s going to die.

she closes her eyes for a moment. she hopes that sohee’s clawed deep enough into her back as they made sweet love the night before, it leaves scars. so that, once she’s gone, riwoo can carry her both in her soul and on her body. a token of something that was real, that was there, that’s been real and there for years. so that riwoo has a reminder of what she’s lost and doesn’t let her move on.

she wishes for the love bruises that she’s painted over sohee’s chest and in between her thighs to last more than just a few days. 

oh, she’s acting so selfish. as if she won’t have anything left of her. as if it’s not her who’ll go back to the place that’s caring for so many memories within its walls. she’s slipped a polaroid of the two of them, naked chests, bright smiles, into sohee’s suitcase.

“passengers of flight 2122 to los angeles, california, please head towards your gate,” the kind voice of a woman announces through the speakers. oh, evil always seems kind. that’s how it lures you in. that’s how it strips you from any sense of self. a bitter taste fills riwoo’s mouth. heavy and thick. like molasses and syrup. it makes her tongue numb. it renders her completely unable to speak.

she misses sohee’s warmth on her neck as soon as it’s gone. her and minseo’s voices are faraway, faraway. the floor sways under her feet. she’s going to pass out. this can’t just end like this. this can’t just be it. remorse clogs her throat. she’s lost.

sohee notices all of it. of course, she notices all of it. she loves riwoo.

she doesn’t ask if she’s okay, because riwoo’s not, obviously, and that would be twisting the knife deeper into her guts. so she only holds her hand tighter, tighter. she’s telling her that she’s here till the last moment. she doesn’t want to let go.

alas, she has to. it breaks everything in her that she has to. god, she wishes she could take riwoo with her. or that she could stay here, herself. her stomach churns with the fact that they could’ve done long distance, but they won’t. it wouldn’t have been easy, but they’d manage, because the love would fuel their efforts to keep it right. but they won’t. and sohee can’t do a thing to change it. she respects riwoo too much. she’s not not fighting for it. she just believes that if riwoo needs it, to find sohee again, later, better, then she understands. she hopes that riwoo thinks that way, too. they should’ve talked about it.

“come on,” minseo says, her arms open wide, her smile, wider. sohee reflects the way her lips curve up. she lets go of riwoo’s hand and walks only a few steps, before she falls into the safety of her mother. she hugs her tight. in her ear, like a secret, she whispers, “i’m gonna make you proud.” because minseo’s the only person, beside herself, whom sohee wants to impress. because, for all the sacrifices that minseo made, sohee believes that the only way to thank her is to be the best version of herself. minseo chuckles. “you’re already making me proud, baby,” she states. sohee holds her mother tighter. this is the first time that they won’t be living close. and, that’s hard for two people who, for a long while, only had each other.

minseo won’t part from the hug first. she’ll let sohee take what she needs from her for how long she needs it. behind her closed eyes, she sees all of the versions of her daughter she’s had the honor to see. sohee, no more than four years old, who cut her own hair and whom minseo found too cute to be mad at. sohee, at fourteen or fifteen, who discovered justin bieber and decided that she’d be a singer, like him. when her daughter parts, minseo opens her eyes and sees sohee, right now, twenty-two years old, all grown up, still so young, ready to make her dreams come true. “oh, when did you grow up?” minseo murmurs to herself, brushing a strand of sohee’s hair back behind her ear.

sohee chuckles, wetly, and minseo kisses her forehead.

then, sohee turns to riwoo. she catches her eyes, red, rimmed with dark rings. she can see the marks of the tears that she shed the day before, even though they aren’t here, anymore. she doesn’t know how to say goodbye to the love of her life. she bites down on her tongue to keep herself from crying. 

as soon as she’s within her reach, riwoo comes to hold her hand, delicate, always. she draws her into a hug. sohee doesn’t tell herself that this is the last time. it simply can’t be. and, if it is, then she doesn’t want to tarnish it with the reality of it. she can’t ruin the last embrace that she shares with her girlfriend by acknowledging the fact that it’s the last. she doesn’t know if she makes sense.  she doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

riwoo rests unsteady hands on sohee’s back. she promised that she wouldn’t cry, so that’s how her sadness decides to show, instead. she breathes in the gentle vanilla scent off of her neck. a shiver runs down her spine. she wishes for this scent to haunt her for the rest of her life. a reminder that these  four years have happened. a guarantee that they weren’t just out of riwoo’s wildest dreams.

“can i kiss you?” sohee asks, her voice muffled by the fabric of riwoo’s hoodie. riwoo always kisses her goodbye.

“mhm,” riwoo replies, unable to trust her voice not to break.

with a touch as soft as moonlight, sohee holds riwoo’s face, taking in every millimeter of her. oh, she’s the prettiest thing in this world. sohee’s so glad that, even for a moment, she’s been allowed to call riwoo hers. if she doesn’t find her, again, then she hopes never to get away from the sound of  her voice. sohee thinks that’s how silver springs goes. a beautiful song that she hadn’t thought would apply to her own life. a heartwrenching song she hadn’t thought she’d relate to.

she captures riwoo’s lips into the gentlest kiss.

“don’t be a stranger, riwoo-yah,” she whispers, pecking the mole right under her right eye. she strokes the cheeks of her lover with gentle thumbs as she stares, deep, deep into the galaxies of her eyes. “i love you,” she promises with a kiss on her lips. not the last. it can’t be the last. her words are tainted with infinite fondness.

riwoo holds onto her wrists, helplessly. she doesn’t want this to be happening. her mind is in a haze, buzzing with bittersweet feelings, words, actions, even when she so badly wants to just be there. sohee looks at her with a knowing expression, so kind, so calming, because she loves riwoo. she’s just told her. she’s just told her. riwoo needs to find the strength to say it back.

time is catching up on them. riwoo leans into sohee’s touch. she kisses her palm. then, just for her world to hear, she whispers, “i love you, too.”

sohee smiles. something small and faint, but warm. so warm. 

riwoo feels herself shatter as sohee waves at her, at minseo, from the other side of the gate. lovely sohee, with twin braids of black hair raining behind her shoulders. lovely sohee, walking towards her dreams with a suitcase full of them and riwoo’s soul. riwoo waves back until she can’t see her, anymore.

it doesn’t dawn on her immediately that, this is it. she’s kind of out of it.

she sleeps the whole drive back, exhausted. her feelings are so much bigger than she is.

after wishing minseo a good night, riwoo walks up the stairs, to the apartment that she and sohee will no longer share. she notices sohee’s half empty tea mug on the kitchen table. and, at long last, she breaks down.

the next day, riwoo realizes that the wound is still too fresh and staying in the apartment hurts. she sees sohee everywhere. her shelves in their shared closet aren’t even half empty. her music papers are still over the desk. her picture, framed, remains on riwoo’s nightstand.

riwoo still hears her voice in every room of the place, because sohee’s always singing. in the shower. in the kitchen, dancing about, stirring a soup. in the bedroom, leaning over the dressing table, applying her makeup flawlessly.

riwoo needs to stop her heart from leaping out of her throat at every step that she takes in this place that she used to love to call home. she needs to get away. just like sohee has. she needs to get away, even if only for a few days. it’s become unbreathable in here.

she takes a couple of days off of work. her boss is nice enough to let her have them. well, she’s also promised that she’d work on weekends for the next month. it’s alright. anything to have a few days for herself.

curled up on sohee’s side of the bed, dried tears decorating her cheeks, she calls her parents’ landline. two tones ring. a deep voice, familiar and comforting, answers. the same deep voice who used to read stories to riwoo when she was only a little girl, who used to sing her to sleep.

“hello?” jungsoo says, a little wary. it’s a wednesday, a weekday, late in the evening. nobody calls landline phones, anymore.

“daddy…” riwoo replies. “i’m sorry,” she apologizes, before she breaks down into tears, hugging her knees even closer to herself.

“sanghyukie? is that you, babygirl? are you alright?” jungsoo asks, holding tighter onto the phone, as if that’d make him get closer to his daughter. he knows that it’s her. he’s just powerless. his daughter is crying and there’s not much he can do, from here.

“daddy, can i come home?” riwoo replies to his questions with one of her own. her words are slurred. she takes a deep breath. sohee’s scent fills her nose and she almost chokes.

“i’ll come get you,” jungsoo answers. he seems to sense the seriousness of the situation. he throws a jacket above his pajamas and replaces his slippers for sneakers.

from afar, riwoo hers him tell her mother, “sanghyukie’s having a tough time. i’m gonna go get her. go back to sleep.” then, a gentle kiss, and he’s out to his car.

“i’m staying on the phone with you, baby, okay? it’s gonna be fine,” jungsoo says, his phone automatically connecting to the car by bluetooth. riwoo believes him.

they don’t really speak. they can’t. one is miserable, the other is worried and both are so, so tired. it’s an hour till jungsoo gets to the city.

on the way back, riwoo’s wrapped in a blanket, passed out on the passenger seat. the scent of her father, tired, strong, a reminder of the safety of her childhood, replaces sohee’s.

she sleeps till two in the afternoon. pain throbs behind her eyes and she can’t really feel her teeth, but there’s an ibuprofen pill, a glass of water, and a note from her mother on her bedside table. she figures that, even for a few days, she’s going to be alright. 

after dinner, stomachs full of squash puree and emotion, she tells her family the reason for her sudden arrival. she cries into her napkin.

but, this time, instead of chasing after a warmth that never comes under her covers, warmth comes to her. her father’s touch up and down her spine. her mother’s touch, solid, on her thigh. daewon’s touch – her older brother, who’s never home, who doesn’t do feelings much – in the shape of a few pats on the top of her head. haejin’s touch –  her younger brother, who’s so much taller than her, now – embracing her, once she stands up.

he sleeps in her bed that night. he doesn’t tell her he’s missed her, but it’s just as if.

the rest of the weekend passes by too quickly. but, riwoo’s having as much fun as her heart allows her to. she plays cards with haejin. she does daewon’s nails. she goes on walks with her parents. dinners are filled with laughter and love. it’s been a while since they’ve been all five around the table.

when sunday afternoon comes and daewon has to drive her back, riwoo cries grateful tears. she wishes that she could stay here if only for a moment longer. alas, she’s got work tomorrow. they share a big family hug and a promise that home is wherever each of their souls are. 

riwoo and daewon don’t really speak much on the drive back. and, it’s alright. he let her connect her phone to the bluetooth and play some music that she likes. sometimes, when love is a little too hard to say, showing it means just as much.

before she steps out of the car, daewon, in older brother fashion, messes up her hair. riwoo pushes him away playfully. she thanks him with a smile and tells him to text her when he’s home.

she walks up the stairs. with a comfortable heaviness in her limbs, she opens the door to her apartment, and is surprised to find it lit up, when she’s sure that she’s closed the shutters before leaving. her heart speeds up. she places a key in between each of her fingers. with silent steps, she heads to the kitchen. with quiet movement, she takes a big knife off of the rack. she tries not to breathe too loud.

but, it seems she hasn’t been quiet enough. she hears someone coming to the room. it’s alright, though, and she doesn’t have time to get even more scared than she already is.

“welcome back, riwoo-yah,” wonbin says, smiling softly, as riwoo places a hand on her heart and the knife back down. “i’m sorry i scared you, i’m just here to ventilate the place and water the plants,” they state. their eyes are so kind as they look at riwoo, so patient. wonbin lets her exhausted mind take in the situation. riwoo loves them for it.

“thank you,” she whispers, a little out of breath. the fear dying out from behind her eyes and clearing her vision. “how did you know i wasn’t here?” she asks. in the compassion adorning wonbin’s features as they tilt their head, in their smile turning sadder, riwoo finds the answer.

“sohee told me,” they reply. riwoo tries, as she might, to swallow her heart back into her chest. she can’t let it leak out of her. sohee still has riwoo’s location turned on, even so far away, even on the other side of the ocean. riwoo’s a fool to have ever thought that she’d turn it off.

“oh,” she nods. she wipes the few tears that run down her cheeks, despite herself.

“she gave us her key, in case,” wonbin tells her. they don’t have to tell her in case of what. they both know. riwoo’s really bad at taking care of herself. especially if she has nobody to do it for, to do it with. she curses the pen in her purse for being so addictive, so unhealthy.

“she told you, then,” she guesses, her lips curving up, but she’s not happy.

“mhm,” wonbin nods. the look on their face doesn’t change. they don’t look angry at her for breaking up with their friend, for hurting her. they don’t look angry, at all. if anything, they look even kinder, kinder, something that riwoo’s never thought possible. wonbin is the epitome of kindness. she wishes they hated her, even just a bit, because that’d hurt less than being looked at with love. 

her heart leaks out of her, anyway.

“why aren’t you mad at me?” she asks, tears pouring down, her face hot. she’s weak in her knees and so, so tired. wonbin and seunghan are sohee’s friends, first, so why do they care so much about riwoo? she doesn’t get it.

wonbin comes closer, their arms open, and riwoo falls into them. “because there’s nothing to be mad at, riwoo-yah. you’re also hurt. and, just because seunghanie and i have met you through sohee, doesn’t mean we aren’t your friends, too,” they state. there’s so much conviction in their voice that riwoo struggles to not believe them.

“so you don’t hate me?” she asks, weak, weak, feeling like a child, again. she’s always been so lonely, so unfamiliar with platonic love, she doesn’t know what to do with all of wonbin’s.

“nonsense,” they answer. their hands are protective over riwoo’s head, over riwoo’s back, rocking the two of them. “i could never hate you,” they promise. riwoo clutches tighter onto their tee and wonbin lets her wet it.

sohee :pink_heart:

i didn’t send hanibani over

they came by because they wanted to

riwoo loves opening the store. the mall it’s in is empty, quiet, and she’s not yet overstimulated. she watches as the gate disappears up, fidgeting with her keys, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

she prepares the register, she checks the store’s emails and stocks, she opens the curtains of all the dressing rooms, moving around, doing what she has to do, earbuds plugged in her ears.

it’s a monday. they don’t have many people coming by on mondays. she doesn’t even know who’s on the shift with her, today. they won’t be here till one in the afternoon and she doesn’t bother to check.

at seven thirty, the mall opens, with a couple of early birds already walking about its corridors. riwoo sits behind the register and turns on her phone, sohee’s notification waiting for an answer, but she ignores it, for now. she wouldn’t know what to answer, anyway.

sohee :pink_heart:

am i allowed to say i miss you?

is she? she’s allowed to miss her, yes, of course. but, to tell her that she’s missing her? riwoo doesn’t know. it’s both a reminder of the beauty of what they had, that it existed; a reminder that they lost it. she bites the inside of her cheek. her eyes turn down. she turns off her phone.

she takes a deep breath in, a deep breath out. she tries, along with it, to make the tight feeling in her chest disappear. to no avail.

still, she smiles. fake, tired, but she smiles. she takes her book out of her bag. the perfume. süskind. 1985. she’s only started it, but, oddly, it’s a really nice read. she leans over the counter and rests her head into the palm of her hand. 

she nods off a few times, which isn’t very professional, but nobody’s here to tell on her. the words blur, sometimes, but she manages to finish it in less than an hour. it hasn’t even been a whole week, yet, since sohee left. and, when riwoo closes her eyes, she can only see her behind them.

it’s around nine fifty that her first client steps in. they’re wearing high-waisted jeans and their black hair falls just above their shoulders. they take off their headphones and let them hang around their neck. they greet riwoo with way too much energy for a monday morning, but maybe, that’s what riwoo needs. “good morning!” the client says, as they approach the counter, their heels clapping against the tiles.

“welcome in,” riwoo greets back. she’s exhausted. “do you need help with anything?” she asks, even though she wishes the client didn’t. or, maybe, she wishes the client did. it’d help take her mind off of sohee. she’s confused. she doesn’t know anything, anything, except that she misses sohee.

“oh my god, yes, actually,” the client smiles, their eyes shining with excitement. riwoo’s heart melts a little. “i’m sungho, she, her,” she says, holding her hand out. she’s got pretty purple nail polish on.

“riwoo.  she, her, too,” she replies, shaking her hand.

“nice to meet you,” sungho says. riwoo doesn’t remember the last time she’s heard something so genuine from a stranger. she thinks that this interaction could save her.

“likewise,” riwoo smiles. sunshine opens in her soul. she believes that, even for just a moment, she can enjoy girlhood in one of its simplest forms. maybe, she could even make a friend. she’s getting ahead of herself.

see, the thing is, riwoo doesn’t want to take up too much space. she doesn’t want to be a bother, be annoying. but, as she’s listening to sungho talking, talking, she realizes that there’s no such thing as taking up too much space. she just takes up the place that she needs to. riwoo doesn’t think sungho’s a bother or annoying. on the contrary, it’s endearing, just how much she has to say. she thinks that she could learn a thing or two, being around sungho.

“are you alright?” sungho asks, an amused smile curling up the corners of her lips.

riwoo realizes a little too late that she’s been staring, but sungho doesn’t seem to mind. “yes, sorry,” she apologizes. this is so embarrassing. seriously. what if sungho’s nice enough not to show that it’s made her uncomfortable? what then? riwoo doesn’t think she could live with that, on top of, well, everything else. but, still, she tries. “would you, uhm,” she starts, awkwardly, and sungho looks at her with patient eyes. “would you like to be friends?” she asks, breathless, because she’s never done that, before.

she wants friends. she wants friends, of her own, so badly. not sohee’s friends (don’t get her wrong, here, she’d kill, or die, for wonbin and seunghan). she wants friends that she made. and, for that, she has to put herself out there. she has to go out of her comfort zone. because, if she wants a village, she has to show up. so, after twenty-two years, she does as much. and, if she gets rejected, at least she tried.

“sure!” sungho exclaims. yeah, riwoo thinks, you’re going to save me. “i’m hanging out with my friends on sunday, you should come,” she proposes, as she enters her instagram username in riwoo’s phone. 

riwoo finds that she doesn’t want to refuse.

“okay,” she accepts, tilting her head, her smile reaching her eyes for the first time in almost a week. she wonders if sohee would be proud of her for putting herself out, like this. for her efforts.

now, who is she kidding? the answer is obvious.

she follows sungho as she heads to the dressing rooms. she leans against the wall, so as to be here, with sungho, while still having an eye on the shop.

she thinks of sohee’s text. it’s tantalizing. it’s confusing and heartbreaking, all at once. she counts the rings holding the curtain on the bar. it’s alright. she’s going to be alright. it’s a promise that she makes to herself, to sohee. she’s having a nice time and she has plans for this weekend.

it’s so weird to have rays of light breaking through the dark sky. it’s so weird to have moments of happiness breaking through her melancholy.

sungho opens the curtain, so suddenly, and gets her out of her head. she’s wearing the shirt that she’s picked out. she dramatically poses and turns, asking, “what are we thinking, riwoo-yah?”

riwoo breaks into a laugh. the pressure in her chest gets weaker, weaker. she feels like she can breathe, again, even if only just a bit.

“it’s cute,” she answers, truthfully. it follows the curves of sungho’s body in a way that’d make mortals and gods alike, jealous. “wait, can i?” she asks, noticing a crease in the fabric, on sungho’s shoulder.

“of course,” sungho replies. of course, she says,  which makes riwoo want to cry. of course i’ll let you help me. of course. she doesn’t want to be a bother, be annoying. she won’t cry in front of sungho. she won’t cry on the clock. baby steps.

she walks closer and fixes the crease, “perfect,” she smiles.

“thank you,” sungho smiles, back.

darling

yeah

i miss you too

she bites down on her lip with nervousness. she’s standing in front of sungho’s door. this is the first time that she’s hanging out with a friend, her friend, in her twenties. the last time that somebody invited her to her house, she mustn’t have been older than five, and, everything is so much easier as a child. so, she’s anxious. she doesn’t know the codes and the etiquettes. are the cookies that she baked, too much? sungho told her to just come by, that her very presence would be more than enough. but, she couldn’t just show up empty-handed. right? 

she breathes in, out, and knocks before she can decide to run away.

she doesn’t recognize the face that greets her. “hi. you must be riwoo?” the girl smiles, tender, so tender, in the way she speaks. riwoo nods. she must look so awkward, so out of her skin, because the girl chuckles, “come on in. i’m leehan.” ah, yes, sungho told her about leehan. kind and brilliant, she’s said.

so, leehan steps aside, and riwoo is welcomed by a soft atmosphere. safe and bright. she could get used to the pastel purple of the walls, here.

leehan takes the plate from her hands and says, “woonhak’s gonna be crazy about you once she tastes those.” riwoo thanks her, smiling shyly, before she takes her shoes and coat off. creative, a foodie and a sore loser, sungho’s said, about the youngest. that made her laugh with endearment. woonhak is the same age as haejin, so that only added to her fondness for the younger girl, even though she’d yet to meet her. she kind of can’t wait to put a face to the name.

she follows leehan to the kitchen and is warmly received by three joyful faces. sungho nods at her. are you okay? she knows that riwoo was anxious to come by, to meet new people, and she did her best so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable. both before and now. riwoo nods back. thanks to you. her heart feels like it’s going to melt inside her. is this what it’s like to have friends? riwoo can’t believe that she’s missed on feeling so loved, platonically, for so long.

she waves, unable to contain a relieved smile, “hi.” she’s a little shy, but she feels completely at ease. friendship seems so easy, suddenly. it seems attainable, here, in this room. she catches – whom she believes is – taesan’s eyes, not wary, but more introverted than her friends’. sungho’s told her that taesan is literally so perfect, it’s actually insane, which didn’t quite help riwoo, to be honest. but, it’s alright, she can get to know her. she’s excited to get to know her.

“she brought cookies,” leehan announces, happy.

the way they all beam makes riwoo’s chest full. all these new emotions are kind of overwhelming, but in the best way. she wants to feel overwhelmed with love for her friends, for girlhood, all the time.

sohee looks at herself in the mirror of her dorm room, fixing her shirt, the white one that she keeps for great occasions such as those. this is her first day in her new school.

when she first stepped foot in america, not even a week ago, it all felt bittersweet. leaving everyone whom she loves behind to chase after her dream. to make it reality. every cloud has a silver lining, she’s sure of it, now.

not on the first night, but on the second, everything felt sour on her tongue. she had nothing to throw up, but bile. she regretted ever coming there. she went to sleep with tears marks down her cheeks. 

sohee’s never lived alone. there was always someone by her side, in the same place, just one room away. minseo, then riwoo. that’s what she’s used to. she’s old enough to figure out how to live on her own, but she wishes she never had to. she kind of wants a roommate, they don’t even have to be friends, but simply a presence, here. but, sohee’s not spoiled. she won’t complain.

mama

break a leg, baby

i’m so proud of you 

hanie :bubbles:

kill em queen :head_shaking_vertically:

[hanibani_kissing_the_camera.mp4]

myungie

WOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO

IT’S D-DAY SOHEEEEEEEE

don’t forget me when you’re famous

darling

congratulations, my singer

being a singer is sohee’s dream, now, and will be her future, soon. how precious it is to find what drives you forward in life so early, to never give it up, to work so hard to achieve it. riwoo’s always been admirative of that. and, she knows that if she didn’t love sohee so much, she might’ve even been jealous. but, she isn’t. because her love for sohee is bigger than any insecurity that she rots her brains. because she knows better. she’s one of her greatest supporters.

that’s why sohee’s heart flutter at the pet name. she’s made of passion, of songs, of love for riwoo.

she sprays her vanilla perfume twice over the fabric. she checks her makeup, her earrings, pulls the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. she takes a deep breath, pulling herself together, because she’s doing this. finally, she’s doing this. she can’t back down, now. the texts on her phones are proof enough that there are people out there who believe in her, just how much she believes in herself, in her dreams.

in her headphones, love yourself plays on loop, her favorite song, and a tribute to the one guy who’s inspired her to become all that she’s now. she’s stressed, yes, but overall, excitement bubbles in her stomach, in her throat, and she can’t help a small smile from gracing her lips. she’s spent the whole summer perfecting her voice, her english. she grows more and more confident as she gets closer to the building, so much bigger than she is, but that she can’t wait to know the secret places of.

it’s less magical than she hoped it’d be, but it’s thrilling, when she takes her first step inside the place that’ll help her become what she’s dreaming of. she finds her classroom more easily than she’d thought, but it seems that her classmates are even more excited than she is, because it’s almost already full, and it’s twenty-five minutes before the actual start. she doesn’t have much choice, so she sits down at the front, next to a guy with soft features and wide shoulders. he seems kind enough.

she pulls the chair out, which makes him look at her, frowning at first, soft the next second, offering her a smile that she gives back. she wants to ask for his name, maybe get a friend, but he turns back to the book he has open on the desk and the opportunity is lost. later, if time is on her side. she places her bag onto her lap and gets her things out. even if, at first sight, sohee doesn’t look like an introvert, she is one, and is too shy to go around the class and socialize. everyone’s already is semi-formed friend groups, anyway. it’d be weird to just pop up and demand to be included.

she takes the time that she has left to text her mother and her friends back. jaehyun replies immediately, which is weird, because it’s late in korea and she has work tomorrow, but oh, well. sohee will take the distraction. it’s always fun to be around jaehyun and she regrets not seeing her before leaving. sohee hates growing up for this exact reason. calendars and schedules making her unable to see her friends, when it was so easy, in high school. but, she disgresses. she’s so happy to be here and it’s okay if she doesn’t make friends right away. they’ll spend the next two years together and they’re not out of time.

her thumbs hover above riwoo’s notification. she doesn’t know what to answer. a simple thank you would be that, too simple. they’ve still shared a life together and riwoo deserves more. a couple of red hearts is the easy way out and putting no effort in. replying i miss you would be the truth.

sohee :pink_heart:

thank you so much :red_heart:

don’t forget the sound of my voice

she sends the text and puts her phone screen down on her desk. it’s romantic, dramatic, just as though they’re lovers doomed by the narrative. they aren’t. this is a bad moment for their relationship, but they’re not doomed, sohee will make sure of it. this text comes from the very bottom of her heart. she hopes that riwoo doesn’t forget her voice. or, at least, that she doesn’t forget just how much she loves it. tears are pushing behind sohee’s eyes.

she doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though. her teacher walks in, haughty, strict, put-together and all the people that were sitting in groups, on the desks, chairs, or the floor, go back to their seats. the guy next to her dog-ears his page and closes his book, the stranger, by camus, and pushes it to the corner, before he opens his laptop.

the twenty-ish students in the room each take a turn introducing themselves. sohee learns that there are a couple other international students, just like she is, and that the guy’s name is anton.

when she goes back to her place, that evening, she breaks down into the emptiness of her sheets, overwhelmed by what is and what should be, but isn’t, anymore. she calls her mother and minseo doesn’t hang up, even after sohee’s fallen asleep.

standing in front of the door, tugging at the back of her skirt, sohee tries to convince herself not to leave. she didn’t even plan to come, but she was thinking about riwoo so much, on the verge of throwing up, and figured that she needed a distraction. she doesn’t know anybody, here. but, that’ll be the opportunity to  socialize, maybe even make some friends, though she doubts that. 

she’s wearing a cute little top, soft pink, silky, that shows off her shoulders. her skirt is a little darker, though not much, and falling to her mid-thighs. she’s attached ribbons at the end of her twin braids. 

she takes a deep breath in, out. she has to do this. she’s killing two fascists with one brick.

she’s about to open the door – because it’s impossible for anyone to hear her knock with this loud of a song – but, a few people bump into her and they open it, instead. ugh. 

they don’t apologize, but then, again, she doesn’t expect them to. they seem to be tipsy, already. she looks at them disappear in the crowd, all big gestures and loud laughs, and steps in, at last.

the bass is booming even harder inside, she discovers, unfortunately, so much, it’s almost making the walls shake. she’s sure that she’ll leave this place with temporary tinnitus. she’s also welcomed by a strong smell, sweat, alcohol, bliss. the floor is sticky. she feels a gag coming up her throat, but she manages to keep it down, in her stomach. 

she knows that she can’t stay in, the air is too hot, too heavy, so she heads to the backyard, instead. the people are calmer than they are inside. they’re smoking, laughing, and playing cards. they’re moving their feet in a semblance of dance. this is nicer.

she takes a can of cola from an open cooler by the window, not wanting to drink, because she came here alone. she leans against the pillar of the porch and watches. she should go out, about, try to talk to people, because that’s what you do, when you party. probably. sohee’s never really been to one, it’s just been her, riwoo, wonbin and seunghan hanging out, most of the time. she went out to a club, once, with jaehyun. worst experience of her fucking life. 

she bites the inside of her cheek, building confidence, taking deep breaths, convincing herself that she can do this. she can. she didn’t fly from the other side of the ocean to remain friendless, alone. 

she tries to open her can, the cold drink seeming holy, suddenly, but her nails are getting in the way and she considers going back home. she could head back inside, find a piece of cutlery, open it, head back outside. she could ask someone. she thinks that it’s kind of ridiculous.

“d’you need help with that?” a guy asks, which makes sohee look up in surprise, so into her own mind that she didn’t notice him coming up to her. she doesn’t even have time to answer that the guy takes the can from her hands, a little too harshly, and opens it, before he gives it back to her. what the fuck. the guy smiles like she owes him something and sohee feels blood rush to her head, so uncomfortable, wishing she never came here in the first place. 

“what’s your name?” he asks. “d’you wanna dance?” he asks. 

“i’m good,” sohee smiles, uneasy, feeling like a prey, thinking she shouldn’t have worn that top. she wants to run away, but he has her caged against the pillar, not physically, but with the look on his face. what will he do, if she tries to run away? she doesn’t want to know.

“come on, let’s dance, love,” he insists, gripping her wrist, his hand on her hip, and he’s too close, too close, sohee’s unable to move.

“don’t call me that,” she says, her voice wet, trying so hard not to cry, “let me go.” she wants to scream, to make a scene, anything for someone to notice that she needs help, but she’s terrified, her body too stunned to push him away. 

the guy only grips harder, only touches lower down her thigh. he doesn’t say a word. oh, he’s sick. sohee can feel his breath on her face. “let go,” she begs, her voice weak, weak, and maybe she should just let him do what he wants, so he’ll let her go, when he’s done. oh, she should’ve stayed home. 

the guy leans in. sohee presses her eyes closed, because if she doesn’t see, it’s not really happening. a few tears run down her cheeks. she kind of wants to die.

“she said let go,” a voice scolds, cold and somber, as the guy gets pulled away from her. the force of the action makes her spill her cola all over herself and drop the can to the ground. she gasps, both with surprise and relief, on the verge of tears. she doesn’t know what to make of herself.

it’s a blur for a moment and she can only hear faraway voices arguing. she can’t feel her fingers or her teeth. then, a minute or twenty later, she can’t be sure, soft words, “are you okay?”

she blinks and her head spins. she feels herself fall, can’t do much about it, isn’t really in control, but she grabs onto the arms that reach out to catch her. “wow, easy there,” the voice chuckles, “d’you wanna sit down?” 

sohee nods, croaking out a small, “please.”

the arms accompany her down as she sits on the wooden stairs of the porch. she fixes her skirt. the person sits beside her, careful not to touch, but still close enough to let her know that they’re not leaving her here, alone, after this.

she looks over at her can of cola spilling out into the grass, trying to make sense of what’s happening, pinching herself, breathing in, out, swallowing the tears in her throat. oh, she should’ve done this, done that, not worn this, not come by. her head’s spinning.

she turns towards the person who’s helped her and says, tilting her head, so tired, “thank you.” she manages a smile, but it’s sad, joyless. 

“yeah, it’s no problem,” the person replies, their tone kind, like it’s never been an option not to help. they let a couple of seconds pass, staring into sohee’s eyes, deeply, but so gently, and add, “i’m sungchan, he, him.” 

sohee takes him in, for a moment, imprinting in her mind not the way he’s dressed or the way his hair’s cut, but the kindness of his features, the roundness of his light brown eyes. his patience. “i’m sohee, she, her,” she says, and she notices the way he assimilates the information with a short nod. the way he wipes his hands on his jeans.

“you don’t wanna get into my pants just because you helped me, right?” she asks. fuck, she can’t be too careful. she can never know what’s going on with men. she wants to go home.

with a humorless chuckle, he answers a simple, “no.” without any offense taken. without any explanation given. just no. and, sohee doesn’t need more than this. he seems sincere enough.

“okay,” she says in a whisper, smiling to herself, before a few tears run down her hot cheeks. “i wanna go home,” she confesses. even she doesn’t know if she means her place here, her mother’s arms, or riwoo. she just wants to leave.

“i can call you a cab,” sungchan says. sohee doesn’t find it in herself to refuse a stranger doing something kind for her. she doesn’t have the energy to walk back, anyway. she nods positively. 

a soft breeze passes by, caressing her hair, and making her shiver. it’s just now that she remembers the stickiness of her top. she wipes her eyes to prevent more tears from escaping. this is so much, too much. she’s ruining the makeup that she spent so much time on, but that’s not her main problem, right now. god, her thoughts are all over the place.

“d’you wanna change? i can give you my shirt, if that’s not weird with you,” sungchan proposes, noticing how she curled up on herself, just a little, unconsciously chasing warmth. 

“i can’t ask too much of you, sungchan,” she worries, feeling guilty for needing help, for going through this, for feeling so weird in her own body, her own mind. she can accept the cab, sure, but the shirt would be a lot, wouldn’t it? she sniffles.

“you didn’t ask–i proposed. that means i don’t mind,” he says, kind voice, kind eyes, kind everything. sohee swears, if he lied earlier and does try to bed her, she’ll never talk to a man ever again. except, maybe haejin. but that’s it. 

“okay, yeah,” she answers, a little out of breath, a lot tired, feeling ghost hands over her wrist and her hip. she stands up, dusting her skirt off, while sungchan stands up, too.

she has to slightly tilt her head back to have a proper look at him. “you’re quite short, aren’t you?” she tells him.

sungchan gives her a look, half amused, half confused, “i’m sorry?”

sohee shrugs, “i just thought you might not get that a lot.” sungchan’s laugh is clear and bright as it graces her ears. oh, it’s nice to be the reason for someone’s joy. it’s been too long since the last time it happened. a little bubble of pride beams in her chest.

sungchan holds her hand through the crowd and stays in front of the door, calling a cab, while she gets changed. he assures her that he won’t get cold with only his tank top. the rusty orange flannel shirt falls above her skirt, leaving only a sliver of it to see. he sits on the front porch with her as she waits for the taxi, they exchange instagrams, and when it arrives, he walks her to it, opens the door for her, and tells her to text when she gets home.

@/lsh03

when are you free so i can give you your shirt back

@/electroniczephyr

lmao you can keep it if you like it

i finish my shift at 4 everyday if you still wanna hang out though

@/lsh03

i can do wednesday at 5

@/electroniczephyr

deal!! i know a cozy cafe not far from campus

sohee’s exhausted when she steps out of class. her teacher is strict and still swears by the old, so-called traditional ways. and, sure, she prefers this to a teacher who’s too friendly and gets nothing done, but still, it drains her energy. so, she’s more than thankful for the warm chocolate and the warm smile that are waiting for her. she greets sungchan with an awkward wave and sits down opposite of him. it’s not uncomfortable. 

“guess you kept it, then,” he chuckles, pushing the cup towards her. 

“i shouldn’t have?” she asks, on the same tone, knowing that he’s playing.

they both fall into a friendly laugh and, for a second, all is alright. she quickly finds that it’s easy to talk with sungchan, to be, to exist around him. 

he gives her the space to tell her stories and actively listens. it’s the first time, ever since she’s stepped foot in america, that she’s having an actual conversation, with someone that she can touch, that made time for her. someone that’s not on the other side of the ocean. someone that doesn’t lag because of bad network or apologizes for hanging up early because of time zones.

she can see this relationship growing into something healthy. she can see sungchan becoming her friend. and, heaven and hell know, she’s never said that about a man. she didn’t think she would, ever, at all. but, her gut’s never betrayed her.

she misses riwoo.

she swallows the feeling along with her drink. later.

after she tells sungchan what she does here, sohee learns that sungchan is friends with a guy from her class, anton. she asks if they could hang out someday, and sungchan lights up, nodding with a, “yeah, of course!” which makes her chuckle. 

at 6:30, their drinks empty, fatigue in their bones, sungchan walks her home. he promises that he lives close by, so sohee lets him. 

@/electriczephyr

here’s anton’s ig @/tonipics ;)) i told him you’d follow

it’s been three months. quick and exciting, slow and agonizing, all at the same time. sohee’s left everything that she’s ever known to dive into the unknown, yet so flowery, path that’s leading her to her dream. sohee’s left her mother and her friends and her girlfriend. ex girlfriend, now. they haven’t called.

they text, sometimes, a reminder that the love was there, is still there, just not the way they wish it were. but, it also hurts, so they keep it short. and they haven’t called. sohee misses the sound of riwoo’s voice. she misses the softness of her tone and the way her lips wrap around words, as if they’re only hers to pronounce. she misses the fondness with which she tells her i love you, dear. 

buried inside her covers, she replays the video, again, again, again. in it, riwoo’s hair is messy, and she’s wearing only a light tee that shows off her shoulder. she’s talking about her nails, what she’d like to do next, and she doesn’t notice sohee filming, until she does. she laughs as she pushes the camera away, turns it off. she’s peppered kisses all over sohee’s face, after that.

oh, sohee’d bleed dry, for the sweetness of her laughter. her stomach twists into knots. her heart tightens. she doesn’t know what to do with herself, now that her lover is just–not that, anymore. she doesn’t know how to be just her friend. she’s tried. she swears she’s tried. 

sohee curls up on herself and cries into the plushie that doesn’t smell like riwoo, anymore. it doesn’t feel like a thousand needles breaking through her skin. it feels like she can’t breathe. riwoo is the air in her lungs and she’s too far, physically, emotionally, she’s way, way too far, and sohee can’t breathe. she passes out, sunset, warmth, riwoo, riwoo, riwoo, ringing in her ears.

behind her eyes, in her dreams, she can see riwoo right in front of her. she can feel her right there.

sohee reaches out to touch her, to take her into her arms, to kiss her, to beg for anything, as long as she’ll have her. but, no matter how close she gets, no matter how close towards her she leans in, she can’t feel her underneath her hands.

she startles awake. it takes her a few moments to take in her surroundings, realize where she is. the polaroids aren’t stuck to the walls the same way they are back in her room, in korea. tears pour down from her eyes as she clutches at her tee, right over her heart, because she can’t tear it out of her own chest, so it stops hurting. 

sweat’s gathered in the creases of her body, the covers hot, too hot, but she can’t seem to be able to get out from under them. their weight over the length of her is the only thing keeping her somewhat sane. 

with great difficulty, she sits up and, parched, downs her water bottle. she can feel the drink go down to the pit of her stomach. she stares at the yellow-ish wall opposite of her. her eyes are burning, burning, trying to keep the tears at bay.

she pats around for her phone and, in a surge of courage, decides to call riwoo. she can’t do this, anymore. she can’t. she needs to hear riwoo’s voice, even if she tells her to go fuck herself, to never call, again. she’ll take what she can get.

she dreads the length and the loudness of the rings in her ears. she doesn’t even know what she’s going to tell her. she doesn’t have a reason prepared, an excuse, except that she misses her, she misses her so badly, it’s killing her. 

she hugs the plushie closer to herself. the seconds are stretched and stretched and stretched to their maximum and feel like hours, even days, to sohee. all of it, so the only voice that she gets to hear is riwoo’s dial tone. she chokes on a sob and leaves a message, broken down, defeated, “hey, uhm, i miss you, call me back when you can, if you want, i don’t know. yeah. bye.” she hangs up. she doesn’t try calling again.

@/lsh03

can you come by pls

@/electriczephyr

is it urgent or can i come after my shift?

@/lsh03

after is okay

can you bring sweets

@/electriczephyr

i got you

she feels a wave of comfort wash over her, but it’s quick, only a second, before she feels awful, again. she puts her phone away and stares at her hands.

these hands that have touched and held and felt. these hands that riwoo’s let cradle her close, close, till no one could understand where she started and sohee ended. these hands that riwoo’s traced the lines of, so softly, with the tip of her finger.

sohee looks at her nails, red like riwoo’s favorite color, red like love, red like blood, and it takes everything in her not to tear them off.

sungchan’s going to be here soon. she needs to get ready.

except, she really doesn’t, she does the bare minimum, a clean face and clean clothes, and doesn’t even brush her hair before tying it up. for a reason that she can’t really fathom, sungchan still smiles, kind, always so kind, when he sees her.

sohee looks up at him with big and wet eyes, feeling so glad that he’s here, at last. she knows that she can’t handle the rest of her day alone. an ache is pounding against the left side of her face. she can’t quite feel her teeth. but, the front door isn’t even fully closed, and sungchan already gathers her into his arms. 

with his head resting on top of hers and his arms around her shoulders, sohee can breathe again. short breaths, quick breaths, but she doesn’t feel like she’s drowning, anymore. she’s missed the feeling of being so loved by her friends, it’s healing.

“i brought lemon pie,” sungchan says, softly, not a moment when he’s not careful around her, “without meringue, i know you don’t like it.” sohee just holds him tighter, tighter, before she lets go.

“you’re the best,” she thanks him. sungchan takes off his coat and shoes. sohee doesn’t have a sofa here, so they go sit in the kitchen, instead. 

they stay silent for a moment, sungchan patiently waiting for her to speak, not rushing her, and sohee not knowing where to start, not knowing if she wants to start. she probably should. to get it out of her system. to stop the ache that twists her insides. even if only for a moment.

she hasn’t eaten anything all day and water can only keep the hunger away for so long. the lemon cream tastes so heavenly that she feels the urge to cry, again. she eats with very small bites, not wanting to get nauseous with how much sugar this has, but with each, she feels a little less miserable.

“i, uhm,” she starts, it’s a little awkward, but she manages. “can i vent?” she asks, fidgeting with her spoon, her smile soft, sad. she should go get medicine for her headache. it’s in the bathroom, though, and she seems to be rooted here, in her kitchen chair. so she just–doesn’t.

sungchan nods, his features softened by tiredness, by love. he looks at her just like friends should. he’s here because he wants to. not because he feels like he has to. sohee is incredibly thankful.

“it’s just, uhm, you know,” she says, not really saying anything, not sure how to phrase what’s been hurting her, not sure if she wants to make it even realer by speaking it, sharing it. “my girlfriend and i, we broke up, just before i came here,” she tells him with a heartless chuckle. “and, you know, i understand her reasons, i do, but,” she pauses for a second, a few tears escaping her eyes, “it’s killing me, sungchan.”

a weight comes off of her shoulders at the confession, but shame comes to replace it, immediately. oh, she knows that she shouldn’t feel like this, that these are her feelings and there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but she can’t help it. this is too much and her body can’t contain all of it. she had to ease the pressure so she wouldn’t explode. that doesn’t mean that it feels all perfect, suddenly, though. it’s utterly mortifying.

“it’s okay to miss her,” sungchan says, delicate, gentle, as he reaches for her hands above the table. she lets him take them. she welcomes his words like a balm on her wounds. she needed to hear that. “sohee, no matter how long it’s been, it’s okay to miss her, it’s okay to miss what you had, alright?” he tells her, trying to catch her eyes, wanting her to have no choice but to believe him. he doesn’t, but she squeezes his hands, once, twice, and he knows that she gets it.

“thank you,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek. she’s cried enough. her head hurts so much.

“don’t mention it,” sungchan replies, shaking his head. after a few seconds spent zoning out, his eyes on the crumbs on her plate, he asks, “you wanna know something funny?” his tone betrays the fact that he’s sad, sad, and so tired. 

confused and interested, sohee looks up, “sure.”

“you know, eunseok, my roomie,” he says, chuckling, because what else can he do, when his situation is so ridiculous, “he’s my ex.”

sohee’s eyes open a little wider in surprise.

“i know!” sungchan laughs, now, “and, i miss him like crazy even though he’s right here.” then, calmer, he strokes the top of her hands. he assures her, “so, it’s okay to miss riwoo. i promise.”

sohee believes him.

see, there are many jaehyuns in the world. jaehyun is such a common name that you’d find one at every corner of the street. so, when leehan’s told her that her crush’s name is jaehyun, she figured she wouldn’t know them. there are so many, leehan’s crush can’t possibly be one of the few jaehyuns that she knows. except, it seems that the universe always has a way to surprise her.

when jaehyun first walks in the restaurant, holding leehan’s arm, smiling so bright, even the sun is jealous, riwoo’s breath gets caught. not because jaehyun’s so pretty, like leehan wouldn’t shut up about, but because this is a jaehyun that she knows. a jaehyun that knows more about riwoo’s life than riwoo knows about jaehyun’s. this is sohee’s friend jaehyun.

out of all the jaehyuns out there, wandering about without an ounce of the worry riwoo feels, leehan’s crush is sohee’s friend jaehyun.

she doesn’t let it get to her, though, because this is leehan’s moment, and she swears she’d stab herself with a butter knife before she’d make this about herself. she can freak out later. she can’t take in leehan’s happiness introducing her crush to her best friends.

it seems that jaehyun’s recognized her, too, and thought just about the same. what matters most is leehan’s joy, always. jaehyun can yell at her all she wants for breaking her friend’s heart later. (riwoo knows that she won’t. she’s too loving of a soul. riwoo can find parts of sohee in her). 

so, instead, riwoo talks about music and dresses and politics with her and sungho. she listens intently, so genuinely interested and involved, when taesan opens up about her struggles as a transgender girl. riwoo loves that she feels safe enough around jaehyun, whom she’s only just met, to do that. jaehyun is kind.

it’s two days later that riwoo receives a text from her. she hasn’t really had the time to think about her, really, with work, with wonbin and seunghan coming to hers with a home-cooked meal, with sohee haunting her every thought, all the time.

myung jaehyun 

can we meet up? i wanna talk

riwoo replies with the positive, because once this uncomfortable conversation is over, it’s over, and she won’t have to talk about this with her anymore. because she wants this to be dealt with as soon as possible, so that it takes a weight off of her shoulders, even if just this one.

they’ve never really been friends when sohee was here. they’re just too opposite in personalities. jaehyun is bright, open, excited to try out new things, while riwoo is dimmer, quiet, feeling comfortable in the routine that she’s made for herself. jaehyun is colorful and riwoo just–isn’t. not in the way jaehyun is, at least. jaehyun is vivid and riwoo is pastel.

it hasn’t been like this with wonbin and seunghan. even if they’re also sohee’s friends first, they’re more introverted, like she is. it’s easier to talk to them. she thinks that she just hasn’t tried hard enough to talk to jaehyun.

turns out, it’s easy, it’s so, so easy, to talk to her. she greets riwoo with a delicate smile. she hands her a fruity bubble tea, because it’s hot out, because riwoo just got out of work and walked to the park, here, and sohee told her her favorite.

she sits down on the bench, the space that she leaves between them feeling endless, like jaehyun’s so far, when it’s only a couple dozen centimeters. she thanks her under her breath and jaehyun answers with a smile that’s so gentle, so incredibly tender, riwoo believes that she doesn’t deserve it.

she takes a breath in, out, and loosens her hold on the poor plastic cup.

“it’s been a while, riwoo-yah,” jaehyun starts, her tone delicate, though riwoo can hear the hint of sadness tainting it. “i know we were never really friends, but, you know,” she shrugs, chuckling, taking a sip of her own milk tea. “i still care for you, both as someone who loves sohee and as yourself,” she says. it’s so important to make this distinction. this is a conversation between two people who love sohee. “and, i want you to know, i would never hate you for hurting sohee,” riwoo cringes internally at her words, “because i know that you’re hurting, too.”

riwoo doesn’t know what to say. she’s not sure if jaehyun wants her to say something. she tries her hardest not to choke on a lemon-flavored pearl. her face feels hot and her jaw clenches and her stomach twists. she won’t cry.

“so, if you need anything, lean on me, on us, too, because we’re here for you, okay? you don’t have to keep hiding,” jaehyun says, looking at her, now, but riwoo’s too weak to look back. girlhood and friendship and love would be right before her. she’s not sure that she can handle all of that. “let’s be good friends, riwoo-yah,” jaehyun tells her. 

she only manages a small, “okay,” that doesn’t quite reflect how she feels, but she can’t do much better, right now. she wants to scream. she wants to ask her why? you know i’m bad at opening up, at receiving love, so why would you want to be friends with me? is it for sohee? for leehan? do you really want to?

she feels the condensation of her drink wet her fingers. she knows that the answer to all of her questions is that jaehyun is a good person, actively so good, so kind, with so much love to give that it’s overflowing out of her. it shows on her face. it shows in the way she speaks and the way she carries herself. riwoo’s so impressed by her. so, for her own self, she’ll be jaehyun’s good friend, too.

she really doesn’t want to do this now. they’re all scattered about the living room, jaehyun and leehan glued to each other on the armchair, taesan seated on the floor, in between sungho’s legs, riwoo on the sofa, sandwiched between sungho and woonhak. this moment is too beautiful for riwoo to do this now, but she’s also never felt as comfortable, as ready to talk about it, than at this moment.

she’s so happy and so full. she’s grown out of her shell, reaching out when she needs to, especially to jaehyun, because jaehyun knows. but, the others don’t and riwoo finally feels at ease to tell them. she wants them to know. sohee’s such a big part of her and riwoo wants her friends to know about everything that makes her, herself.

she doesn’t want to hide, anymore. this love that she feels for the girls around her is so fulfilling. they’re helping her grow, she hopes just as much as she helps them, too. these girls, her friends, are so inspiring in the way they think, they hold themselves, they are. it’s so empowering to know that they’ll support her. that, she can say the wrong thing, and they’ll stay beside her, still, because they love her.

she loves them, too. to the end of the world.

they’re all having small talks of their own and riwoo doesn’t want to interrupt them. she takes in the way sungho strokes taesan’s hair, impossibly soft with her touch, always. she loves woonhak’s warmth all over her side. she’s telling her about the song that she’s writing, something about being twenty, about how so much is expected of her when she’s only still just a child. riwoo believes that it might become her favorite of woonhak’s and tells her as much.

woonhak passes her arm around her shoulders and brings her closer, beaming at her words. how cute.

she continues to explain this and that, encouraged by the genuine interest on riwoo’s face, the praise in jaehyun’s comments. riwoo wants woonhak to only be happy for the rest of her life. she thinks she’d rearrange the world so that nothing can hurt her, anymore, ever. she would for every girl here.

she’s so glad that she’s found a friendship so healing and worth protecting. riwoo from fifteen years ago, who sat alone in class, at lunch, at recess, would’ve never fathomed that possible for herself. she thought she’d be friendless for the rest of her life, but, oh god, she’s so happy to have been completely and utterly wrong.

the right moment comes after dinner. it’s quiet, nothing else but sated smiles and souls, legs thrown over laps, heads upon shoulders, hands in hands. leehan mindlessly plays with riwoo’s fingers. oh, riwoo feels choked up. she loves them so much, her heart swells, a lot, so much, it’s pushing on her other organs.

“can i confess something?” she asks, a hint of stress in her voice, but it’s gone with the immediate warmth that she receives. all of their eyes are on her and, for the first time, it doesn’t feel too much, she doesn’t feel like she’s dying from the attention. 

she catches jaehyun’s eyes, softening, so kind, and she knows that she gets it. with a short nod, she has all of her strength, love, support. it feels like yesterday when they had that simple yet life-changing conversation. it’s been a couple of months. (almost half a year since she and sohee broke up).

“yeah, of course,” sungho replies, a tired smile curling up her lips, something dazzling in the way she looks at riwoo. leehan stops playing with riwoo’s fingers and opts to holding her hand, instead.

warmth fills riwoo’s veins. it’s painful to admit that she’s hurting. it’s tearing her apart to talk about sohee. but, with the gentleness of her friends – her own friends that she’s gone out of her comfort zone to have – around, it hurts a little less. she can do this. and, even if she can’t, they’ll still love and wait for her. she tightens her hold on leehan’s hand, unconsciously.

“so, uhm,” she starts, grandiosely, nervously, before she chuckles. her friends’ eyes soften with endearment at the sight. “i broke up with my girlfriend of four years just a few days before we met and i wanted to thank you guys for being here for me, for holding me up, even though you didn’t know,” she confesses, at last, a couple of tears falling down her cheeks despite herself. it feels like a weight coming off of her shoulders. it feels like she can breathe a little easier.

her friends don’t say anything, sensing that she isn’t done, but they come to sit closer, closer, till everyone’s touching everyone. a silent support.

“and, you know, sohee’s everything to me and i–i adore her, impossibly so, but i left her, because i felt like i loved her too much, maybe, and the only reason i’m not rotting away is you, girls,” she says, her voice a little wet, a little weak, but there’s a hand in hers, another on her knee, an arm embracing her. “i just–i can’t stop thinking about her. she ruined everyone else for me,” she smiles, faintly, but it’s joyless. she misses her. she should’ve answered her call. she should’ve called back.

jaehyun’s eyes are glassy when riwoo looks over at her. she’s one of the few people who knows riwoo and sohee, who is friends with the both of them, and who knows just how much pain they are in over this situation. one that they could’ve avoided if riwoo trusted herself more. alas, she’s always been somewhat of a coward. and, now, it’s putting weight on her friends’ shoulders, too. she tilts her head apologetically and hopes, with everything in her, that jaehyun understands.

to her right, woonhak is trying her hardest not to sob and, when riwoo notices, her heart drops to her stomach. “hey, it’s okay, babygirl,” she reassures her, stroking her hair, her neck. she didn’t want them to feel bad. she wanted them to know more about her so they can understand her better. not this. never this. oh, god, she can’t do one thing right to save her life. “it’s okay, i’m alright,” she repeats, over and over, willing herself not to cry, too.

she lets go of leehan’s hand to cradle woonhak closer. the whole one-eighty-two centimeters of her tucked into riwoo’s side, her face hidden into riwoo’s neck. “but, i’ve made so many bad jokes your romantic life though,” woonhak sobs, but her words make riwoo smile, truly, this time. riwoo thinks that she’s so cute. “i’m so sorry,” woonhak apologizes, feeling guilty to her bones for probably making riwoo feel uncomfortable.

“oh, baby, you’re the sweetest,” riwoo says, rocking them, softly. “i’m not mad at you for that. i don’t think i could be mad at you for anything, honestly. your jokes have only cheered me up,” she tells her, swearing that it’s the truth, because woonhak can get a little into her own head, sometimes. woonhak chuckles, before she breaks down, which makes riwoo crumble, too.

cramped on the three-seat sofa, six bodies are embracing, full of something that isn’t love, but stronger than that, too powerful a force, it can’t be named. riwoo knows that taesan isn’t really fond of physical affection, but, she’s ready to bet her life on it, the kiss that she felt on top of her head is hers.

look, riwoo knows that this isn’t the way to go about it. she knows that it’s the absolute worst way to cope and she’s only hurting herself more, but she still does it. she’s trying to stop vaping, she needs to let go, to forget, and there’s only so much that her toys can do.

she never brings the girl back to her own house, to the place that she lived in with sohee, instead she wakes up in unknown beds and leaves before they can talk about it. she’s a coward and she doesn’t want to talk about it. she already hates herself enough for caving into this unhealthy habit. after the night they share, the girl doesn’t have riwoo’s number, can’t contact her, and if somehow she finds her socials, riwoo blocks her. sure, she’s had a nice time, but they’re just not sohee.

they all did kind of look like her, though. long black hair raining down their shoulders or tied into twin braids or pushed back with a pink headband. a couple of moles on their face. the shape of their nose, of their hands, of their hips. the sound of their voice, a pitch too high, too low. there was sandy; jamie, or was it jennie? riwoo doesn’t really remember; and a girl with the name of a season, but, again, riwoo’s forgotten which. it’s not like she cares much. thank you for the night and never talk to me again. it’s her own business if she cries as soon as she steps home.

then, there’s georgia. riwoo’s new colleague at the shop and girlfriend-not-girlfriend whom she’s been seeing for a couple of months. she wears black, all the time, her makeup, too, and her hair, cut just below her shoulders. she wears the same perfume as sohee. the exact scent of vanilla that riwoo’s fallen for. and, even though she doesn’t quite look like sohee, through the blurriness of her tears as they make love, it’s so easy to get them mixed up. it’s so easy to call georgia by sohee’s name as she comes.

when she realizes, she apologizes, “sorry, i’m sorry.” gently, she places her hand on georgia’s shoulder and pushes her aside. she doesn’t look at her. this is so embarrassing. she should’ve never kept on seeing her. she knew that she’d slip up. it’s that vanilla perfume that kept her hooked. it’s the pain in her stomach at the thought of sohee that kept her coming back. with georgia, she could forget the hurt, the guilt, the regret, even if only for a little while. (only to walk back home more hurt, more guilty, more regretful).

“we should stop this,” she states. she buttons down her shirt. she tucks it into her jeans.

“fuck you, riwoo,” georgia replies. her tone is somewhere between angry and miserable. riwoo believes that she deserves it. “does any moment that we’ve shared mean anything to you? any at all?” she pleads, but riwoo doesn’t answer, because she can’t tell her what she wants to hear. “you’ve introduced me to your friends! for fuck’s sake, riwoo, you can’t blame me for thinking you liked me, too,” she says. she covers herself with her blanket and sits at the edge of the bed.

riwoo turns to her. “i agree, introducing you to my friends was a mistake. i’m sorry. but, come on, gia, don’t give me that look. i told you i’m still in love with her. before we started this. i told you and you still wanted it,” she tells her. she feels awful seeing the way georgia’s eyes get glassy with tears ready to be shed. she’s never been in love with georgia, but she’s always cared for her, ever since they met, and being the reason for her pain doesn’t sit nice in her body.

“okay, yeah, i still wanted it. but, if you didn’t, then why did you keep coming back? was it fun to watch me make a complete fool out of myself?” georgia asks, tilting her head, her untied black hair following her movement. she looks at riwoo intensely, intensely, wanting answers that won’t make her feel like she’s been alone for the span of this relationship.

alas, riwoo isn’t a liar. she can’t give her this. “i kept coming back because you made me feel a little less like i wanted to jump out of my window when thinking of what i’ve lost. you’ve never made a fool out of yourself,” she explains. she needs georgia to believe her. she needs georgia to know that riwoo’s always respected her in her entirety and that she wouldn’t ever not take her seriously. they didn’t communicate enough for this to end well. 

“so you used me,” georgia states.

“gia, you know that’s not true,” riwoo replies, aching all over, body and soul, not sure if she should reach out. this agreement wasn’t like that. they both consented to it knowing that riwoo’s heart wasn’t in it as much as her time and her body. but, human emotions are human emotions. she can’t make georgia not believe what she’s feeling.

“just–fucking leave, riwoo,” georgia says. riwoo pretends that she doesn’t hear her sob as she closes the door of her room, of her place, for the last time.

sat on her bed, riwoo stares at the hello kitty plushie that she bought for sohee out of habit. when she passed by the storefront, she forgot that sohee wasn’t waiting at home for her, that sohee wasn’t coming back after school, and went in to buy the pink and white plushie. she thought of the smile on sohee’s face as she’ll give it to her, bright and beautiful, only to be met with the heaviness of her absence.

now, the plushie won’t ever smell like the girl she loves, just like the others that have lost the delicate vanilla scent of her, because it’s been ten months since sohee’s last hugged them to sleep. 

this is pathetic. riwoo’s pathetic. yearning for something that she pushed away. the tears that run down her face feel like bleach taking away her color. her head is pounding.

she doesn’t know when sohee will come back. she doesn’t know if sohee will come back. maybe she likes the united states better than korea. maybe they’d give her more opportunities to grow as an artist. riwoo wants that for her more than she wants to keep sohee for herself.

no, she doesn’t. in a feeling so ugly, so mortifying, she wishes sohee would compromise between her dream and her lover. if she’ll have her back. she wishes sohee would keep on following her dreams here, in korea, by riwoo’s side. but, riwoo loves her so much, too much, to ask that of her. she feels impossibly guilty for even thinking like this. nobody can ever know.

the two black dots of kitty’s eyes seem to be boring holes into riwoo’s head, judging, mocking, telling riwoo that she’s a lost cause. riwoo stares back, unblinking, the colors of the plushie merging into one pinkish orange. just as though the water of her tears is aquarelle. 

but, she soon can’t stand it. she turns it away. it’s not enough. it’s not enough. she stands and walks to the closet that still protects some of sohee’s clothes. she hides it behind a few boxes on the lowest shelf. the adage says out of sight, out of mind. it’s never been more wrong.

she pops in a pill for her head and lays down. behind her closed eyes, she can see sohee, beautiful, beautiful sohee. smiling, not bright, but that delicate curl of lips that she reserves for riwoo when she thinks that she’s not looking.

riwoo wishes that she didn’t have to dream her. she wishes that she could pick up the phone and call her, have her voice soothe her wounds. but, she can’t do that. they haven’t even texted in the past few months. riwoo felt like she – herself – wasn’t worth enough to have the audacity to reach out. don’t be a stranger, riwoo-yah, sohee whispered, after she kissed her, before she stepped into that plane, before she flew away from her home. it’s one of the few promises that riwoo can’t keep.

her phone ringing gets her out of hating herself down to the marrow of her bone. she reaches for it while wiping the tears off of her eyes. her voice is a little wet as she answers a small, “hello?” but, if jaehyun hears it, she’s kind enough not to say anything.

“hey, babe,” she greets her, instead. jaehyun is a good person. that much is the truth. jaehyun is also selfless, understanding, and so, so loving. which is why she doesn’t take pity on riwoo when she tells her, “i just wanted to tell you, uhm,” she pauses for a second, “i saw sohee in town. i don’t know if she told you that she was back for a while.” her tone is melting into soft, delicate, but not because she thinks that riwoo needs saving from her broken heart. she talks to her this way because she’s her friend, because she loves her. riwoo knows that.

“oh, no, she didn’t,” she replies. everything is silent. she can’t hear the beat of her own heart. she’s going to throw up.

“oh,” jaehyun reacts, quietly, but riwoo can feel the surprise. “do you want me to come by?” she asks. so genuine. so noble of a person. riwoo hopes with every last drop of her leaking soul that jaehyun knows just how healing she is to the people around her.

“it’s okay,” she assures, even though it isn’t, but she wants to deal with this on her own. “thanks, jaehyun, i don’t know what i’d do without you,” she tells her, straight from the very essence of herself. she means the words as deeply, as strongly, as they can be. more than the meaning of them. more than where they’re supposed to touch. at first, she was apprehensive to be friends with jaehyun. it turns out to be a blessing that riwoo feels impossibly unworthy of. 

“of course,” jaehyun answers, so obviously, because there’s not one universe in which jaehyun isn’t here for riwoo, for her friends. because she hasn’t even fathomed not being here. “i love you,” she says, the evidence of all that jaehyun is, will be. it makes riwoo’s heart start again.

“yeah, i love you, too,” riwoo says, back. if there’s one thing that jaehyun’s taught her – inspired her to do – is to say it, time and time, again, every day, because she means it more each time. there’s no such thing as keeping words of love to yourself because they’ll lose meaning. it’s complete nonsense. riwoo has to say it every time that she feels it. what better feeling is there than making people feel loved? “bye, jaehyun,” she tells her, getting a small hum as an answer, before she hangs up.

it’s completely silent, then. she stares at the ceiling, not really knowing how to be, not really knowing what to do with that information, but losing her mind. she understands why sohee didn’t reach out. she understands why sohee didn’t tell her. she does. she swears she does. but, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. riwoo brought this onto herself.

her stomach twists and she wonders if she should text sohee. if sohee didn’t, that means that she didn’t want riwoo to know. so she shouldn’t. but, she really, really wants to see her, at least one last time, before she can fathom letting her go. moving on. she won’t be able to, she knows, but she can entertain the idea for her own good. she’s never been selfish. she can be for this one time.

so, with trembling fingers and a fussy mind, she texts sohee before she loses the courage.

darling

you’re back?

sohee answers almost immediately – just as though she was waiting for riwoo to reach out. oh, she feels faint. she loves her so much.

sohee :pink_heart:

yes, sorry i didn’t call

i have a show in a couple of days

come by?

riwoo feels her heart going up her throat, into her mouth, and she has to chew it back down to the cage of her ribs. sohee’s foolish for even thinking that riwoo wouldn’t want to come, because riwoo’d want anything, anything, if it’s for sohee.

she’s going too fast and the wind is cutting her skin, on her face, on her arms, on her legs, but riwoo can’t stop. the strap of her helmet is too tight under her chin, it hurts, it hurts, but riwoo can’t stop. she’s pushing down hard on the pedals of her bike. she can’t be late to sohee’s show.

she was supposed to meet jaehyun and leehan in the tram, but she took too long to get ready, overthinking, asking herself if she should even go, so much that she missed it. the wreck of the bike that she left to rot in the garage was her only option and she didn’t have time to change. she hiked up her skirt and managed it.

now, her heart is beating quickly, quickly, with effort and adrenaline. the sun is shining in her eyes and cars are passing by way too close. she breathes hard.

the auditorium’s not too far, anymore. ten minutes away. seven if she pedals faster. she’s going to see sohee. it’s been shy of a whole year and she’s going to see sohee, at last. she can’t cry, right now, but she desperately wants to.

the french translation of to miss doesn’t quite have the same meaning as in english. tu me manques is not quite i miss you. because, in english, you and i are two distinct separate entities, while, in french, you is part of i. in french, there’s no i without you. the direct-object pronoun me, placed between the subject and the verb, adds a layer of need, of something that should be a part of yourself, but isn’t, at the moment. just as though you can’t be complete without the one you’re missing. the literal meaning of the expression is you’re missing from me. 

riwoo can’t be complete without sohee. she’s missing from her as the biggest, brightest and most beautiful part. riwoo loses her balance and falls to the ground, concrete scratching her hands, her knees. she’s breathless. she feels tiny stones get stuck in her wounds. what the fuck.

someone helps her up and offers to go to the nearest place where she could get treated, but riwoo refuses. she doesn’t have time for this. she doesn’t have time for pain. she’s felt it enough. she gets back onto her bike and rides away. the voice calls after her, worried, but she can’t be late. she can’t be late.

she’s never been nearer and she keeps pedaling like her life depends on it. it does. god, it does, more than anything. sohee’s told her that she’d die, if they seperated, and riwoo’d replied just the same. she’d meant it just as much. and, she thought it wouldn’t happen, but it did, and she’d never spoken words truer than those. she needs sohee close. she needs sohee to know that she loves her, still. that she’s never stopped loving her. not even when she tried. not even for a second. she can’t take it, anymore. she needs her.

with her helmet under her arm and her purse on her shoulder, she looks for her friends in the hall, noisy, stuffy, through the crowd of people waiting for the doors of the auditorium to open. she’s lost and she can’t breathe and fuck, her knees hurt, her hands throb. she wants to cry.

“riwoo, over here!” a voice calls – seunghan! – and riwoo’s never been more relieved. she walks swiftly over to them, to her friends. she falls into seunghan’s side, hugging them, out of energy. “hello, hi, sorry i’m late,” she greets everyone. without an ounce of hesitation, without the shadow of a doubt, like second nature, wonbin takes the helmet out of her hands and fixes her hair with the softest touch. riwoo’s impossibly thankful.

“you’re right on time, dear, it’s alright,” minseo smiles. riwoo’s not seen her for a while. just a couple of times after sohee left, then nothing. only a few texts here and there to check on each other. it’s kind of weird to be in her presence, again, but it’s also not. it’s so familiar. it’s a confusing feeling that riwoo has no choice but to welcome in its entirety. she smiles back.

a couple of tears escape her against her will. she’s so loved and she forgets and sohee’s in the next room. she wipes them off, before asking, “i’m sorry. you are?” to the boy standing next to minseo. tall and with kind features. the leather jacket he’s wearing would fall to her thighs. 

“i’m sungchan, sohee’s friend from america,” he replies, holding his hand out, the waves of his chesnut hair falling into his eyes. 

“i’m riwoo,” she says, not really knowing what to add, because she isn’t sohee’s girlfriend, anymore, but she doesn’t want to introduce herself as her friend or her ex. she shakes his hand and it’s a bit too harsh on the scratches on her own, but she doesn’t let it show. 

“i know,” sungchan smiles. there are words that he isn’t saying out loud, but riwoo gets them, understands them, in the way he tilts his head, in the way he looks at her. like he’s aware of something she isn’t. he seems nice. riwoo hopes that he took good care of sohee when she couldn’t. 

she chuckles and it’s a little awkward, but it’s okay. sohee’s in the next room and riwoo loves her and all these people here do, too.

“uhm, i fell off my bike on my way here, so i’m gonna head to the bathroom for a minute, if that’s fine,” she says, embarrassed, when she knows that she shouldn’t. wonbin keeps her helmet hanging on their finger. “save us a seat!” jaehyun tells them, before she and leehan take each side of riwoo, not letting her tend to her wounds alone. wonbin hums positively and with endearment at the sight.

“are you alright?” jaehyun asks as riwoo washes the gravel off of her hands. she knows she’s not only talking about the fall.

is she? she’s not sure. she’s excited and scared and filled with bliss. with apprehension. she takes the wet wipe that leehan’s handing her and pulls up her skirt, just a bit, to care for her knees.

“i think so, yeah,” she answers. sohee’s in the next room. the love of her life’s in the next room. riwoo’s about to witness her accomplish her lifelong dream of singing on a stage, for people. she thinks she’s alright. this is all she’s ever wanted for sohee.

jaehyun nods with a soft smile. there’s no need for more than this. the magic thing with friendship is the understanding of each other, utter, complete, that doesn’t require words. that makes it so incredibly beautiful to have the chance to be girls together. 

they walk back to the hall and inside the now-open auditorium. seunghan kept riwoo a seat next to them, in the middle of the row, so she can see sohee properly. always so thoughtful. she places her purse at her feet and anxiously waits for the lights to dim, for sohee to appear, right there, before her.

without noticing, she clenches her teeth, she sews her jaw tight, tight, and fidgets with the fabric of her skirt. her stomach is all twisted and her heart is doing somersaults in her chest. everyone’s talking, talking, their voices back and forth in front of riwoo, behind, next to her. it’s a little overwhelming, but it’s also nice, this cover of sound, not asking riwoo to say anything.

sungchan’s leg accidentally bumps into hers. he’s seated to her left and leaning a little over so he can see seunghan and wonbin as he talks to them. he apologizes and riwoo, through a clogged throat, manages to tell him that it’s nothing. his smile is kind. no wonder why he’s sohee’s friend.

riwoo wonders about how they met, how they became such good friends, he came to see her, here. she’ll have to ask him.

the lights dim and the spotlight shines upon the stage. riwoo’s breath gets caught. sohee walks in, looking soft, looking so beautiful in her pink cardigan, and takes her place behind the microphone. no, riwoo will have to ask her.

sohee hasn’t changed. sohee’s changed completely. riwoo loves her. riwoo loves the way her hair rains down like ink behind her. riwoo loves the glitters on her eyes. riwoo loves her features that show that sohee’s grown. riwoo loves the way she’s standing. riwoo loves, oh, so desperately loves her smile, bright as she takes in the people clapping for her.

riwoo loves her voice in the speaker as she starts singing. riwoo loves her. she’d live a thousand lifetimes and not in one of them would she deserve sohee. and, in every of them, though, sohee would still let her love her. she knows.

i saw her in the rightest way, sohee sings, her eyes closed, holding onto the microphone, looking gorgeous as ever. riwoo knows because sohee’s told her that this song reminds her of riwoo. riwoo knows because sohee’s singing it, right now, for her first show in her hometown, not knowing if riwoo’s in the room.

riwoo knows because when she sings i sleep so i can see you and i hate to wait so long, a single tear runs down her cheek, sparkling under the spotlight.

sohee remains professional and wipes it off. she opens her eyes and sends a look over her shoulder to the guitarist. she starts to sing again.

riwoo stares in awe at the girl she loves. she’s never been prettier than when she’s doing what gives her life meaning. quiet and endless tears mess her makeup up. her heart calms down. its owner is here, right here, so close. closer than she’s ever been in the past months. closer than ever now that it knows what it is like to not be.

and we can go forever until you wanna sit it out, sohee finishes, smiling, so proud of herself. after she bows, she tries to look for riwoo in the crowd, but the lights right in her face can’t let her. while, riwoo notices the action, riwoo knows that she’s looking for her, because she knows sohee like she knows her own mind. maybe, even more than that. it punches riwoo’s air in and makes her breathe so freely, at the same time.

she doesn’t really listen to the other singers – which she’s sure have worked just as hard – but, she can’t take her eyes off of sohee. she can see her hidden behind a black curtain on the side of the stage. she’s cheering so loud for everybody. riwoo loves her. there’s no one else. 

sohee sings another solo song and a duet with a guy that sungchan apparently knows. riwoo is hooked. she can’t look away from the way her lover’s lips wrap around the lyrics like they’re only ever hers to sing. her voice is so clear as it fills up the room. riwoo was sure before, but she’s even surer, now, that the sound can save her.

sohee hits the last note. the glitters on her eyes shimmer. she’s smiling, still, always, because this is her dream coming true, bit by bit. riwoo’s never been prouder. riwoo’s never loved her more.

the crowd claps and cheers and riwoo can’t move as she takes in the genuine joy running through sohee’s veins. she has to go to her. she has to. now. 

beside her, her friends and minseo stood up, all so content in this moment. they clap until the lights turn off, turn on, again, and the singers aren’t on stage, anymore. riwoo can’t wait any longer.

she walks out of her row and runs down the stairs, to the door next to the stage that can’t lead anywhere but backstage, where sohee is. her heart is hammering against the cage of her rib and her head only knows of sohee, sohee, sohee, sohee. 

the security staff stops her before she can open it. “the girl in the pink cardigan, i’m her girlfriend, please,” she begs, her eyes shiny with tears she’s yet to shed. she shows them the wallpaper of her phone, a picture of them, so cliché, kissing under a cherry blossom tree. that and the desperate look on her face seem to do the job. they open the door and riwoo runs in.

like a girl gone mad, she looks at every face, she turns at every corner, looking for the one she loves. she can’t lose even a second. she’s going to die if she doesn’t find her. she runs and she’s out of breath and yet, she doesn’t stop, wanting sohee, sohee, sohee. why isn’t she finding her?

she stops a random guy in the middle of the corridor and asks, “sohee? where’s sohee?” and she’s crying, begging, she can’t take being away from her, anymore. 

the guy points at a door down the corridor behind him and riwoo barely thanks him, before she runs, runs, runs. sohee. she’s going to see sohee. at last.

she knocks on the door and the bright “come in!” that comes from the other side is lifesaving.

with a hand as trembling as it is sure, she pushes down on the handle, opening the very last thing separating her from the love of her life. and, oh, there she stands. lovely and beautiful and real.

sohee puts down her brush and turns to her, mouthing her name, her eyes wide like she can’t believe that she’s actually here. riwoo can’t believe it, either. in her adrenaline, she’s breathing fast, unable to say a word. instead, she meets her halfway. she drops to her knees. she hugs her waist close, close, never close enough. she needs her closer. she needs to be in her skin. then, she’s crying, managing i’m sorry-s and i love you-s in between ugly sobs.

like a mantra, she repeats her name, calling her even though she’s right here, with her, at last. at last. she’s touching her and she’s holding her and this isn’t a dream. this isn’t a dream.

with a gentle touch, sohee strokes her hair, then down her face, making her look up. she holds her like she’s about to lose riwoo, another time. “oh, darling, will you stand up?” she asks. her voice is wet and helpless. riwoo vows to never be the reason for that again. 

she stands up, holding softly onto sohee’s delicate wrists, the weight of her hands on her like a blessing. then, so tenderly, they’re sharing the same air. how she’s missed her. the stars in the endless twin galaxies of her eyes. the constellations of her moles on her cheeks. the heart-shape of her lips. the vanilla perfume. riwoo’s so overwhelmed, yet so at peace, she can’t begin to think of what to say.

sohee brushes a strand of her hair away, letting her touch linger about her ear, before she tells her, “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.”

riwoo wakes up to the gentle warmth of a body beside her. warmth from familiarity, from fatigue, from love. warmth from the sun peaking in through the barely closed shutters. riwoo blinks her eyes open and takes in how it colors sohee’s skin golden. she smiles something faint, tired, but no less genuine. sohee’s home.

and, like a habit she couldn’t lose, she’s come to sleep in riwoo’s chest. in this slow morning, with only the sunlight as her witness, it makes riwoo’s insides all fuzzy. it feels like no time’s passed. it feels like an eternity since she’s last held her like this. it would’ve felt like a dream if the weight of sohee’s legs intertwined with her own weren’t so real. like it grounds her.

softly, she holds herself up on her elbow. and, with a touch so careful, not wanting to wake her up, she traces the shape of her face, down her collarbone, over to her shoulder, down her arm. she leaves shivers on sohee’s skin in her wake. sohee shuffles closer. riwoo can’t believe that she gets to have this, again.

she holds her closer. she basks into the bliss of the moment. her heart is worriless and her hand is on sohee’s waist. riwoo’d use all of her wishes to stay right there forever. she leans in. she kisses the crown of sohee’s head. she won’t ever need more than this.

after a minute, twenty, a couple of hours – riwoo wouldn’t know, because she loses all sense of self and time when she looks at sohee – she quietly gets out of their bed, away from the warmth, though it’s one of the hardest thing that she’s had to do. she heads to the kitchen to prepare sohee’s breakfast. she takes out two mugs, instead of one, and can’t wait to find sohee’s half-empty at the end of the day.

it’s so infinitely sweet, it makes riwoo’s heart flutter, the way sohee comes in, all pouty, the shirt she’s wearing a hundred percent riwoo’s, “you weren’t there when i woke up.”

riwoo gathers her into her arms with a chuckle, then, whispers, completely smitten, “i’m sorry.” sohee’s answer is to kiss her. her very own way to say it’s alright without words. riwoo’s favorite way. and, just like that, the sun shines a little brighter. the birds chirp a little louder. the earth’s back on its axis. “i made breakfast,” she tells her. sohee kisses her, one more time, just as though she’s still not sure that this is real. that riwoo, standing here, right here, with her, is real. that she gets to kiss and touch and hold her. riwoo can’t blame her. she thought that she ruined them for good.

but, she hasn’t, and sohee’s eating fruits from her fingers. she’s giggling. the sound is just like caramel making the food taste sweeter.

in the world, right now, nothing exists but riwoo and the love of her life.

“i love you,” she says, unable to keep the words in. “i love you and i’m sorry for breaking up with you, but i know i can love you better, now,” she promises, holding her hands out of sohee to take. and, despite the fruit juice on them, sugary, sticky, sohee does. she’s so gentle in the way she looks at her. it makes riwoo’s insides melt. “i didn’t have anybody else to love, then, but you. and, that wasn’t–that wasn’t good for us, i think. i adored you till obsession,” she confesses. 

tears clog up her throat. but, she swallows them down. she’s not good with words, yet, for sohee, she tries. “i have other people to give my love to, now. i have friends and, god, it’s so nice! why did no one tell me it was so nice?” she chuckles. friendship is healing. girlhood is healing. riwoo’s so happy to have people to feel it for.

sohee laughs, so softly, impossibly enamored. she squeezes riwoo’s hand. she patiently waits for her to finish. sohee knows just how much effort she’s putting into telling her all of this. into them. her heart skips a beat, two, three, and she’s never been happier than in this moment.

“they’re the stars in my galaxy and you, sohee, are the sun,” she says, before she adds, quickly, “which, i know is technically also a star, but, you know.” blood’s rushed to her cheeks and her heart’s beating loud and she’s so pretty. sohee feels devotion bubble inside her.

“i know,” she answers, tilting her head, so exceptionally beautiful. “i love you, too. and, i’m so happy that you found your people. i’d like to meet them before i go back,” she says, her soul on the edge of her lips, tainting every of her words with softness. she wants to know everything there’s to know about riwoo. she wants to meet everyone who’s ever made her feel loved. she believes there’s a song that goes on like this. she can’t really replace it.

“of course,” riwoo nods, smiling, smiling, can’t stop, this is it, nothing can be wrong ever again, so long as sohee keeps on choosing her, too. “and, uhm, will you marry me? before you go?” she asks, her voice gentle, shaky, yet she’s never been surer about anything. sohee’s her constant.

the look of surprise on sohee’s face is precious. riwoo wants to burn it inside her eyelids.

she gets down on both of her knees, their held hands resting on sohee’s lap, “i’m sorry i don’t have a ring and this isn’t grand. you deserve way better than me proposing in our kitchen,” she laughs, wetly, taking in the beauty of her lover. “i love you so much, my dear, i’m made of you. it’d be my greatest honor to love you till my last breath, till even after, till we meet, again, as stardust. will you marry me, sohee?” she asks, out of breath at the sight of the sun embracing her like a halo.

sohee leans down to kiss her. she’s young and she’s foolish and she knows that she’s never going to feel more fulfilled than this. loving riwoo and riwoo loving her, too. she rests her forehead against hers as they part, “yes.”