Chapter Text
An Yujin had scored the winning goal with the same calm precision she’d shown her entire career; clean strike, top corner, the stadium erupting like it always did for her.
At 26, she was everything the headlines said she was:
Captain of the Seoul team, face of the league, undefeated confidence on the field. Trophies, endorsements, sold-out jerseys.
A life so full it almost felt scripted.
Almost.
Because whenever the microphones were shoved in her face after games, the questions eventually drifted to the same place.
“Captain An, are you dating anyone these days?”
She’d laugh, scratch the back of her neck, and shake her head.
“Nope. Too busy.”
“And your ideal type?”
That one always made her ears burn. She never dodged it, though. Never lied.
“Dare I say…Jang Wonyoung.”
Every time she said it, the room would buzz.
Reporters would grin like they’d caught something rare.
Fans would scream.
Her teammates would howl in the locker room later, chanting Wonyoung’s name until Yujin threatened extra laps.
It was harmless, really.
A celebrity crush.
A name so far out of reach it felt safe to say out loud.
Or so she thought.
The All Star Game arrived in a blaze of lights and noise, the kind of spectacle even Yujin couldn’t ignore. The stands were packed with fans from every team, banners waving, chants echoing. She led her squad onto the pitch, jaw set, focus locked in.
Then halftime came.
IVE took the stage.
Yujin didn’t mean to stare. She really didn’t. But the moment Wonyoung appeared under the lights, tall, radiant, smiling like the world had personally invited her to be happy, Yujin’s brain short-circuited.
“Oh, she’s gone,” one of her teammates muttered, laughing.
The big screen cut to Yujin just as the cameras seemed to realize what everyone else already knew.
Captain An, usually unreadable, stood frozen with a faint smile and eyes that gave her away instantly.
Then the screen split.
Yujin on one side.
Wonyoung on the other.
The stadium exploded.
Wonyoung glanced up, saw the screen, and laughed softly, her hand flying to her mouth. When she looked back down, her eyes met Yujin’s, just for a second, through distance and noise and absurd fate, and she gave a small, polite wave.
Yujin nearly forgot how to breathe.
The second half passed in a blur. Yujin played like someone possessed, sprinting harder, pressing sharper, as if every touch of the ball carried a promise she hadn’t realized she’d made. When the final whistle blew, Seoul had won.
And then her coach dropped the bomb.
“Quick greeting with IVE in the tunnel,” he said, clapping Yujin on the shoulder. “Captain, you’re coming.”
Yujin’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Backstage was quieter, more intimate. The hum of the crowd faded into distant echoes as the two teams gathered. Introductions were made, polite bows exchanged.
Yujin kept her posture straight, captain’s armband snug around her arm, anything to remind herself she was still the same person who’d just dominated a stadium.
Then she saw Wonyoung up close.
She’d known she was pretty. Everyone did.
But this, this was different.
Softer. Warmer. Real.
Wonyoung’s smile wasn’t a stage smile now; it was gentle, curious.
“Captain An Yujin,” Wonyoung said, bowing slightly. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Yujin bowed back a little too fast. “I…uh…thank you. I mean. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Wonyoung’s eyes sparkled. “You’re cuter than I expected.”
That broke her.
The unstoppable captain of Seoul suddenly found the floor very interesting.
Her teammates snickered.
IVE’s members whispered excitedly.
Wonyoung, clearly amused, accepted a signed jersey from Yujin with both hands, reverent.
“Hope you can wear it next time you come to our games,” Yujin said, words tumbling out before she could overthink them. “I’ll play extra well for you, Wonyoung.”
Wonyoung’s cheeks turned pink instantly.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied, slipping Yujin a signed album in return. “Then I’ll cheer extra loud.”
The teasing was merciless after that. Cameras caught the moment. Social media exploded before Yujin even made it back to the locker room.
That night, long after the adrenaline faded, Yujin sat alone with the album in her hands. Inside the cover, beneath a neat signature, was a short message.
Captain An,
You were amazing today. Let’s meet again, properly.
– Wonyoung
Yujin smiled to herself, heart light in a way trophies had never managed to make it feel.
For the first time, the name she’d always said jokingly didn’t feel so far away anymore.
— — —
The week after the All Star Game slid back into Yujin’s usual rhythm, morning practices, afternoon gym sessions, film reviews that ran long, and quiet nights where her body was exhausted but her mind refused to rest.
On the field, nothing had changed.
She trained harder than ever, boots pounding the grass, sweat clinging to her skin as she drilled passes and shots until her muscles burned. In the gym, she pushed her limits, teammates grunting beside her as weights clanged against metal.
“Captain, you’re in a good mood lately,” one of them teased between sets.
Yujin only shrugged, hiding her smile. “Am I?”
But the truth followed her everywhere.
Between drills, her thoughts drifted. Between reps, her mind replayed a soft laugh, a polite bow, a handwritten note tucked safely in her bag.
She’d check her phone more than she ever had before, after practice, in the locker room, before bed, half-expecting a miracle to appear on the screen.
Nothing did.
She had connections. Managers who knew managers. People who could get her a number in minutes. But every time she thought about it, something in her chest twisted.
She didn’t want Wonyoung to feel like she’d been cornered, like Yujin had used her status to force an opening.
So she waited.
A week passed.
Then one night, after a long shower, steam still clinging to the bathroom mirror, Yujin scrolled mindlessly through her phone. Wonyoung’s recent Instagram post appeared on her feed, soft lighting, an effortless smile, a caption that felt warm without trying.
Yujin stared at it longer than she meant to.
“…Just do it,” she muttered.
She liked the post.
Her thumb hovered.
Then she opened the DMs.
Hi, Wonyoung. This is Yujin… I hope this isn’t weird.
She stared at the message for a full minute before hitting send, her heart pounding like she’d just taken a penalty kick.
She tossed her phone onto the bed and paced her room, towel still around her neck.
“That was stupid,” she said aloud. “She probably won’t even see it.”
Her phone pinged.
Yujin froze.
Slowly, like she was afraid the moment would disappear if she moved too fast, she picked it up.
Wonyoung: Took you long enough, Captain An. :)
“…No way,” Yujin whispered.
She read it again. Then again.
Her fingers fumbled as she typed back.
Yujin: I’m sorry! I didn’t want to bother you… I wasn’t sure how to reach you without using connections.
A pause. Then another reply.
Wonyoung: You’re adorable. I was wondering when you’d message.
Yujin exhaled a shaky laugh.
Yujin: Would it be okay if we exchanged numbers? It might be easier to talk privately.
A few seconds passed that felt like minutes.
Wonyoung: I’d like that.
Yujin didn’t think, once Wonyoung sent her phone number, she tapped the digits and call button immediately.
The line rang once.
Then…
“Hello, Captain An!”
Her smile spread so wide it almost hurt. “Ah…um…about that. I think we can drop the formalities. Please call me Yujin.”
There was a brief pause, then her name, spoken softly.
“…Yujin.”
Her heart skipped.
“I was starting to think you forgot about me,” Wonyoung teased.
“No, of course not,” Yujin said quickly. “I just…uh…I really wanted to do this properly. Sliding into your DMs was my last resort.”
Wonyoung laughed, light and warm. “I’m glad you did.”
They talked easily after that. About practice, about rehearsals, about how tired they both were and how strange it felt to finally slow down at night. Yujin found herself leaning back against her bed, listening more than talking, memorizing the sound of Wonyoung’s voice.
Then she swallowed, nerves creeping in.
“Wonyoung,” she said carefully, “can I ask you something?”
“Mhm?”
“Would you like to… maybe get coffee with me sometime?”
A beat.
Then, without hesitation: “I’d love to.”
Yujin laughed, relief flooding her chest. “Really?”
“Really,” Wonyoung said. “But somewhere quiet.”
“I know a small café just outside the city,” Yujin replied. “Family-owned. No crowds.”
“That sounds perfect.”
They agreed on a day and time, voices softer now, like the moment itself needed protecting.
When the call finally ended, Yujin lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, phone still warm in her hand.
For the first time all week, her thoughts were calm.
And somewhere outside the city, a quiet café waited.
— — —
Yujin arrived twenty minutes early.
The café was quiet, tucked away from the main road, warm sunlight spilling through the windows. She chose a table near the corner, back straight, hands folded, glancing at the door every few seconds. She told herself it was just habit, captain instincts, but her heart was already racing.
Would I look too eager for being here early?
The bell above the door chimed.
Yujin stood up instantly.
Wonyoung stepped inside, dressed simply, hair tucked under a cap, eyes scanning the room until they landed on Yujin. Her smile bloomed immediately.
“Wonyoung,” Yujin said softly, lifting a hand.
She walked over, and before she could even reach the table, Yujin had already pulled the chair out for her.
“Here,” Yujin said.
Wonyoung paused, clearly surprised, then laughed as she sat down. “Such a gentlewoman.”
Yujin nodded, completely serious. “As you should be treated.”
Wonyoung looked at her for a second longer than necessary, then smiled again, softer this time.
They ordered drinks, Yujin leaning slightly forward. “Do you like sweet or more bitter?”
“Sweet,” Wonyoung answered. “But not too heavy.”
“Then try the vanilla latte here,” Yujin said. “And the strawberry pastry. It’s light.”
“You sound very confident,” Wonyoung teased.
“I’ve trained for this,” Yujin replied, deadpan.
That made Wonyoung laugh, head tilting back slightly. Yujin watched without hiding it this time.
When their drinks arrived, the conversation flowed easily.
“So,” Wonyoung said, wrapping her hands around her cup, “what made you choose soccer?”
Yujin thought for a moment. “I liked how honest it was. You work hard, you see results. And… it was the first place I felt like I belonged.”
Wonyoung nodded, listening closely.
“And you?” Yujin asked. “What do you love most about performing?”
“The moment before the music starts,” Wonyoung said. “When everything is quiet. It’s scary, but exciting. Like… you get to become something more.”
Yujin smiled. “That makes sense.”
As Wonyoung talked, Yujin didn’t interrupt. She nodded, asked small follow-up questions, laughed at jokes that came out shy and slightly corny.
“That was funny,” Yujin said sincerely after one of them.
Wonyoung blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Yujin replied. “You’re funny.”
Wonyoung smiled, a little bashful. “People don’t usually say that.”
“They should,” Yujin said.
At one point, Yujin cut a small piece of her pastry and slid the plate toward Wonyoung. “Try this.”
Wonyoung took a bite. “Oh… okay, you were right.”
Yujin chuckled, pleased but not smug.
Sometimes Yujin caught herself staring, really staring, at Wonyoung’s ethereal beauty, the way the light hit her face, the way her lashes fluttered when she laughed. But every time, she pulled herself back, listening just as carefully as she looked.
And Wonyoung noticed.
She noticed how Yujin leaned in, how she remembered details, how she never once checked her phone. She noticed how Yujin’s eyes crinkled when she smiled, and those dimples.
“You know,” Wonyoung said suddenly, “your dimples are very cute.”
Yujin blinked. “Ah…thank you.”
“They show more when you smile like that,” Wonyoung added.
Yujin smiled wider without even realizing it.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
The sun shifted. Their cups emptied.
Neither of them moved to leave.
Eventually, Yujin cleared her throat. “I had a really good time today.”
“Me too,” Wonyoung said easily.
“If you’re free again sometime,” Yujin added, careful but hopeful, “I’d like to see you again.”
Wonyoung tilted her head. “My schedule might be busy.”
Yujin nodded, hiding the brief disappointment. “I understand. I can wait.”
Wonyoung smiled, bright, teasing. “Next week works.”
Yujin’s smile broke free immediately. “Really?”
“Really.”
Outside, the air was cool. Yujin walked Wonyoung to her car, stopping a respectful distance away when they saw her manager waiting.
“Thank you for today,” Wonyoung said.
“Thank you,” Yujin replied. “Get home safely.”
Wonyoung opened the door, then paused. “See you next week, Yujin.”
As the car pulled away, Yujin stood there a moment longer, heart full, smiling to herself.
She already couldn’t wait.
After that day, texting became part of Yujin’s routine as naturally as morning stretches and cooldown laps.
It started small.
Yujin: Morning practice was brutal today.
Wonyoung: You survived though, Captain 💪
Yujin would smile at her phone between drills, tucking it away before anyone could notice.
They updated each other on everything, mundane, silly, personal.
Yujin: Found a café that sells honey toast the size of my head.
Wonyoung: Noted. Taking you there next time.
Yujin: You’re paying then.
Wonyoung: Absolutely.
Memes followed. Screenshots. Late-night messages that weren’t urgent but still mattered.
Sometimes Wonyoung wouldn’t reply right away.
Hours would pass.
Yujin would see the message unread and simply set her phone face-down.
“She’s busy,” Yujin would tell herself calmly. “Rehearsals, schedules, interviews.”
She never double-texted. Never pushed.
When Wonyoung finally replied,
Wonyoung: Sorry! Just finished practice!
Yujin would respond instantly, like she’d been waiting without actually waiting.
Yujin: It’s okay. Did you eat?
And Wonyoung always noticed that.
When Yujin went out with her teammates, it was impossible to escape Wonyoung’s presence. Seoul was plastered with her face, on billboards, bus stops, building screens flashing luxury brands and soft smiles.
One of her teammates elbowed her lightly. “Captain.”
Yujin glanced up.
A massive poster of Wonyoung loomed above the street.
“There’s your girlfriend,” another teased.
Yujin laughed, shaking her head. “She’s not…”
They all grinned knowingly.
Yujin didn’t correct them after that. She just smiled to herself, a quiet one, because she wasn’t sure what Wonyoung saw her as yet. She didn’t know if a female idol could even date a female athlete without the world exploding.
She didn’t want to think that far ahead.
That night, she sent a picture.
Yujin: You were everywhere today. Even my teammates noticed.
A minute later…
Wonyoung: That sounds dangerous 😅
Wonyoung: Did they say anything embarrassing?
Yujin: They teased me nonstop.
Wonyoung: About me?
Yujin hesitated, then typed honestly.
Yujin: Yeah.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Wonyoung: …I don’t mind.
Yujin stared at the screen longer than she should have, heart beating just a little faster.
They weren’t rushing. They weren’t defining anything. They were just learning, about schedules, habits, favorite foods, small annoyances.
Yujin liked knowing what time Wonyoung usually slept.
Wonyoung liked knowing how Yujin cooled down after games.
Whatever this was, it felt easy.
And for now, that was more than enough.
— — —
Two months slipped by quietly, stitched together by stolen moments.
Another coffee date turned into many. Sometimes it was late-night snack bars with flickering lights and plastic stools, sometimes it was nothing more than sitting in Yujin’s parked car, sharing melting ice cream and laughing softly so no one would hear.
“This is all I can do tonight,” Wonyoung said one evening, already apologetic. “I have to be back in twenty minutes.”
Yujin handed her a spoon and shook her head. “That’s more than enough.”
Wonyoung looked at her. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true,” Yujin replied simply. “I’m just happy I get to see you.”
They sat shoulder to shoulder, knees barely touching. The radio hummed quietly in the background.
Wonyoung watched the way Yujin focused on her, like time slowed when they were together.
“You really don’t mind?” Wonyoung asked. “How short it is?”
Yujin glanced at her. “Not even a little.”
That was what unsettled Wonyoung the most, in the best way.
Yujin made effort without keeping score. She drove across the city after practice just to walk Wonyoung to her dorm entrance. She waited patiently when schedules changed last minute. She never complained, never rushed, never asked for more than Wonyoung could give.
It was new. And a little scary.
On one of their quieter dates, they sat in a nearly empty café, rain tapping softly against the windows.
Wonyoung traced circles on her cup, thinking.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Of course,” Yujin replied immediately.
“At the beginning… were you expecting this to be something?” Wonyoung asked carefully. “Us, I mean.”
Yujin thought for a moment. “I hoped,” she said honestly. “But I didn’t expect anything.”
Wonyoung nodded slowly. “I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe we could just be friends.”
Yujin smiled, gentle. “I tried telling myself that too.”
Wonyoung laughed softly. “Friends don’t usually share ice cream in a car at midnight.”
“No,” Yujin agreed. “They don’t.”
Silence settled, comfortable but charged.
“If we become something more,” Wonyoung continued quietly, “we’d have to hide it. A lot. I don’t know if that’s fair to you.”
Yujin didn’t hesitate. “I already hide parts of my life,” she said. “This wouldn’t feel like a burden.”
Wonyoung looked up at her, searching her face. “You’d really be okay with that?”
Yujin met her gaze steadily. “I’d be okay as long as I’m with you, even if it’s just like this.”
Wonyoung’s chest tightened.
She reached across the table, fingers brushing Yujin’s. Yujin didn’t move, didn’t push, just let their hands rest together.
“I’m not ready yet,” Wonyoung admitted softly.
Yujin nodded. “That’s okay.”
“But…” Wonyoung added, smiling faintly, “I don’t want to stop seeing you either.”
Yujin’s smile returned, warm and patient. “Then we won’t.”
The rain kept falling outside and neither of them rushed to leave.
— — —
The video call came late in the evening, just as Wonyoung finished practice and sank onto the couch in the waiting room, towel draped over her shoulders.
“Wonyoung-ah,” her manager unnie said, voice suspiciously cheerful. “Are you busy right now?”
Wonyoung laughed softly. “Unnie, when you start like that, it means something big.”
“This time it’s good,” she replied. “You know that outerwear brand Yujin endorses?”
Wonyoung straightened a little. “…Yes.”
“They want you as their new endorser. Fall collection. And,” her manager paused deliberately, “they want a collaboration shoot. With her.”
Wonyoung’s breath caught. “With… Yujin?”
“Mhm. It was supposed to be a surprise,” her manager added. “Yujin doesn’t know yet. You’ll both find out tomorrow at the studio.”
Wonyoung covered her mouth, eyes lighting up. “Unnie… are you serious?”
“I’ve never seen you this happy about a brand deal,” her manager teased. “Try to act surprised, okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” Wonyoung said, already smiling too much.
The next morning, the studio buzzed with energy, stylists moving garment racks, assistants carrying clipboards, lights being adjusted. Yujin stood near the set, dressed simply, hands in her pockets while listening attentively to the director.
“So your partner today will arrive soon,” the photographer said.
Yujin nodded. “Yes. I heard she’s really professional.”
Inside, she felt calm. Confident.
Just another shoot.
Then the studio doors opened.
“Good morning,” a familiar voice said.
Yujin turned and froze.
Her eyes widened before she could stop herself. “Wonyoung?”
Wonyoung stepped inside, smiling politely, bowing slightly. “Hello, Captain An.”
Yujin blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then bowed quickly. “Ah…hello. I… I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t either,” Wonyoung said lightly, eyes sparkling. “Until last night.”
Yujin let out a small laugh, still stunned. “This is… wow.”
They moved into professional mode easily, greeting staff and taking their places. But every time Yujin glanced over, she had to remind herself to breathe.
In the changing room, Yujin emerged wearing the brand’s masculine fall look, structured jacket, fitted pants, boots that grounded her stance. When Wonyoung saw her, she stopped walking.
“…Yujin.”
Yujin looked over. “Yes?”
“You look really good,” Wonyoung said honestly.
Yujin scratched the back of her neck. “Oh… thank you.”
When Wonyoung stepped out in her own outfit, soft fabrics, warm colors, Yujin forgot how to speak again.
“You’re beautiful,” she said quietly.
The shoot began smoothly.
“Stand closer,” the director instructed.
Yujin moved carefully, leaving just enough space to be respectful.
“Closer,” the photographer said. “Yes, that’s it.”
At one point, the director gestured again. “Back hug. Natural.”
Yujin hesitated, then leaned in, arms wrapping lightly around Wonyoung.
“Is this okay?” Yujin whispered.
“Yes,” Wonyoung replied softly.
“Hold that,” the photographer said. “Perfect.”
Next pose.
“Face each other. Eye contact.”
They turned, eyes meeting. Wonyoung smiled slightly. Yujin’s gaze softened instinctively.
“Wow,” someone whispered behind the camera. “That chemistry…”
The staff laughed and teased openly.
“It looks too real,” one of them said. “You two looked really close.”
Both Yujin and Wonyoung bowed politely, cheeks warm, saying nothing.
During breaks, Yujin moved without thinking, handing Wonyoung water, holding her jacket, checking in quietly.
“Are you okay?” Yujin asked. “Was that angle uncomfortable?”
“No,” Wonyoung said gently. “I’m really comfortable with you.”
Yujin nodded, relieved. “Okay. Just tell me if anything isn’t.”
As the shoot wrapped up, applause filled the studio.
“That was amazing,” the director said. “Thank you both.”
Yujin hesitated, then turned to Wonyoung. “Um… are you free for dinner?”
Wonyoung smiled immediately. “Yes.”
Yujin’s smile spread, unguarded.
This time, no one was watching.
— — —
The following week, the news broke everywhere.
Jang Wonyoung to host the year-end award show alongside Park Sunghoon.
A reunion MC stage fans have been waiting for.
Social media exploded almost instantly. Old clips resurfaced. Fans reminisced. Shipping edits flooded timelines before the stage even happened.
Wonyoung stood onstage that night in a red dress that fit her perfectly, elegant and radiant under the lights. Sunghoon stood beside her in a black suit, polished, attentive, always a step too close for the cameras.
“Smile,” Wonyoung reminded herself quietly.
She did her job flawlessly, graceful delivery, polite laughter, composed reactions whenever the other hosts teased the “reunion.” When Sunghoon offered his arm or leaned in for a line, she played along professionally, nothing more.
Back home, Yujin sat on her couch, arms crossed, eyes glued to the screen.
She didn’t usually watch award shows like this. Normally she’d be reviewing game footage or stretching before bed. But now, now she watched everything Wonyoung appeared in.
Tonight, though, she wasn’t enjoying it.
She frowned as Sunghoon leaned closer. Noticed how his hand hovered at Wonyoung’s back, how easily he joked, how natural it all looked.
“Why is he standing that close?” Yujin muttered.
She knew it was scripted. She knew it was part of hosting. She knew Wonyoung was just doing her job.
Still, jealousy crept in quietly, unwelcome and heavy.
By the third segment, Yujin stood up abruptly.
“I’m done,” she said to the empty room.
She grabbed her jacket and keys and drove to the indoor field instead. The place was empty, echoing. She put her phone on silent, dropped it on the bench, and started kicking balls, hard, fast, letting the frustration bleed out through movement.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Her breathing slowed eventually. Her thoughts cleared.
Only then did she sit down and pick up her phone.
Missed calls.
Messages.
Wonyoung: Are you watching?
Wonyoung: We just finished the opening.
Wonyoung: Yujin?
Wonyoung: Did I do something wrong?
Yujin’s chest tightened.
“…No,” she whispered. “You didn’t.”
She didn’t call back right away. Instead, she went home, showered, changed, and waited until she felt steady again.
Only then did she dial.
“Hello?” Wonyoung answered immediately.
“Hey,” Yujin said softly.
“I was worried,” Wonyoung said. “You went quiet.”
“I’m sorry,” Yujin replied. “I didn’t mean to.”
They talked for a bit, about the show, the long rehearsals, how tired Wonyoung was.
“You sound… a little off,” Wonyoung said gently. “Did something happen?”
Yujin hesitated, then exhaled. “I’m going to be honest.”
“Mhm.”
“I got jealous,” Yujin admitted quietly. “Watching the show.”
There was silence on the other end, not uncomfortable, just attentive.
“I know it’s your job,” Yujin continued. “And I don’t have the right. We’re not even officially…” she cut herself off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
Wonyoung listened carefully before speaking.
“Yujin,” she said softly, “look at me.”
Yujin smiled faintly. “I can’t. It’s a call.”
“You know what I mean,” Wonyoung replied. “You really have nothing to be jealous about.”
“…Still,” Yujin said. “It just happened.”
“That’s okay,” Wonyoung said. “But I want you to know something.”
“What?”
“You’re the only one I’m interested in,” Wonyoung said clearly. “Everyone else is just work.”
Yujin closed her eyes, tension finally easing from her shoulders.
“…Thank you for telling me.”
“And thank you for being honest,” Wonyoung added. “I’d rather know how you feel than guess.”
Yujin smiled, soft and genuine. “Next time, I’ll try not to kick soccer balls about it.”
Wonyoung laughed. “Please don’t injure yourself over award shows.”
“I’ll try,” Yujin said.
Before they end the call, there was a brief pause, one that felt heavier than the rest.
“Yujin,” Wonyoung said softly.
“Yeah?”
“…I want to see you.”
Yujin straightened instantly. “Right now?”
“If that’s okay,” Wonyoung added quickly. “I just… I don’t know…I…”
“Yes,” Yujin answered without hesitation. “Of course. Come over.”
The moment the call ended, Yujin moved on autopilot.
She straightened pillows that were already aligned, wiped a counter that didn’t need wiping, checked the lights twice. Her apartment was spotless as always, but her heart was racing anyway.
The doorbell rang not long after.
Yujin opened the door to find Wonyoung standing there with a small bag of snacks, hair loose, makeup minimal, eyes tired but warm.
“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Yujin said gently.
“I wanted to,” Wonyoung replied, stepping inside.
Yujin had already set out wine, pouring two glasses as Wonyoung kicked off her shoes and changed into comfy clothes she’d brought along.
When she came back into the living room, Yujin froze for half a second.
She looked… soft.
Real.
Still impossibly pretty.
Without saying a word, Wonyoung stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Yujin.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t shy.
It was grounding.
Yujin was surprised, then hugged her back just as tightly, one hand settling at Wonyoung’s back, the other cradling her head. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wonyoung’s hair.
“You must be tired,” Yujin murmured.
Wonyoung exhaled against her shoulder.
They moved to the couch, glasses of wine in hand. Conversation came easily again, quiet comments, small laughs, shared silence.
After a couple of glasses, Wonyoung shifted closer, then closer still, until she was tucked against Yujin’s side, legs drawn in, head resting comfortably against her shoulder.
“You’re warm,” Wonyoung said softly.
Yujin smiled. “You’re stealing my heat.”
“I need it,” Wonyoung replied, not moving.
After a moment, she spoke again. “I like that you’re honest with me.”
Yujin glanced down at her. “About what?”
“Your feelings,” Wonyoung said. “You don’t hide them. You talk to me instead of pretending you’re fine. I don’t like guessing games.”
“I don’t want to play them either,” Yujin said quietly. “Not with you. I like you too much for that.”
Wonyoung nodded slowly, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of Yujin’s shirt. “I like you too,” she admitted. “Just… be a little more patient with me.”
Yujin let out an exaggerated sigh, tilting her head back dramatically. “I am patient.”
Wonyoung laughed. “Are you?”
“But,” Yujin added, glancing down at her with a teasing smile, “with you this close… I might lose control and want to kiss you.”
Wonyoung lifted her head, eyes dark with amusement.
Slowly, deliberately, she shifted until she was properly straddling Yujin’s lap.
“Hm,” Wonyoung hummed, tracing Yujin’s cheek with her fingers. “I think I’ll allow you to not be patient just for tonight.”
Yujin’s breath hitched. “Wonyoung…”
That was all she managed before they leaned in together, closing the distance at the same time.
Their first kiss was slow, soft, unhurried, warm and certain, like they’d both been waiting for it far longer than they realized.
The kiss deepened naturally, unhurried at first, then warmer, more certain. Wonyoung’s fingers curled into Yujin’s shirt, pulling her closer. Yujin’s hands found Wonyoung’s waist, then her back, careful but undeniably wanting. They kissed like they were making up for weeks of restraint, breaths mingling, hearts racing in sync.
Wonyoung shifted on her lap, closer still. Yujin felt it everywhere, how easily she fit there, how right it felt to hold her like this. Her thumb traced a slow line along Wonyoung’s side, learning the shape of her, committing it to memory. Wonyoung hummed softly against her lips, hands exploring places they hadn’t touched before, tentative but curious.
Yujin groaned quietly and then, stopped.
She closed her eyes, forehead resting against Wonyoung’s.
“Wait,” she whispered, voice rough. “I don’t want to stop… but I should.”
Wonyoung pulled back, breath still uneven. “Why?”
“Because we’ve had wine,” Yujin said honestly. “And because we’re not… official yet. I don’t want you to ever think I took advantage of you. Or regret anything.”
There was a brief silence.
Then Wonyoung smiled, soft, appreciative, touched. “You’re really like this,” she murmured. “Always thinking about me.”
Yujin laughed weakly. “It’s a curse.”
Wonyoung leaned in and kissed her once more, slow, intentional, lingering. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “We can save it for next time. When we’re both sober.”
Yujin nodded, relief and affection flooding her chest. “I promise.”
They settled back onto the couch, the tension easing into something warmer, steadier. Wonyoung curled into Yujin’s side, then shifted until her head rested comfortably on Yujin’s chest. Yujin wrapped an arm around her without thinking, fingers brushing gently through her hair.
“Don’t make me leave yet,” Wonyoung murmured.
“I won’t,” Yujin replied. “Stay.”
They lay there like that, listening to each other breathe. Yujin pressed a kiss to Wonyoung’s temple.
“I’ll take you back early,” Yujin said softly. “Before anyone notices. I promise.”
Wonyoung nodded, already drifting. “Okay.”
And in the quiet of the room, with nothing left to prove, they held each other, content, safe, and certain there would be a next time.
— — —
The news came quietly.
Not through headlines or schedules posted online, but over dinner, sitting across from each other at Yujin’s dining table, plates half-finished, the city lights glowing faintly through the windows.
IVE’s World Tour.
Six months.
Wonyoung stirred her food absentmindedly, eyes unfocused. Yujin noticed immediately.
“You’ve been quiet,” Yujin said gently.
Wonyoung hesitated, then sighed. “We’re going on a world tour.”
Yujin nodded slowly. “I figured. The timing makes sense.”
“Six months,” Wonyoung added, finally looking up. “I won’t really be in Seoul.”
There it was, the weight behind her voice.
Yujin leaned back in her chair, calm but attentive. “That’s a long time,” she admitted. “But you’ll be doing what you love.”
“I know,” Wonyoung said quickly. “I’m excited. I really am.”
Then softer, almost unsure, “I’m just… worried.”
Yujin didn’t rush her.
Wonyoung glanced down at her hands.
“You’re busy. You have practice, games, events. And…” she smiled faintly, not quite convincing herself, “you have a lot of people who like you.”
Yujin followed her gaze, then reached across the table, gently taking Wonyoung’s hand. She lifted it slowly, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.
“I know,” Yujin said quietly. “You don’t have to say it out loud.”
Wonyoung looked up, surprised.
“You’re worried I won’t wait,” Yujin continued. “That I don’t have to.”
She squeezed Wonyoung’s hand reassuringly. “But I want to.”
Wonyoung’s lips parted slightly. “Yujin…”
“I’ll be busy too,” Yujin said with a small smile. “Training, matches, traveling. Playoffs coming up soon. Time will pass whether we like it or not. I’d rather it pass with you still in my life.”
“You don’t feel trapped?” Wonyoung asked softly.
“Not even a little,” Yujin replied without hesitation. “I’m choosing this.”
Wonyoung swallowed, eyes shining just a bit.
“We’re not official yet,” she said carefully. “I didn’t want to assume…”
Yujin shook her head. “We’re exclusive. That’s enough for me. I’ll wait.”
She paused, then added teasingly, “But you have to promise me something too.”
Wonyoung smiled faintly. “What is it?”
“No entertaining foreign suitors,” Yujin said, completely serious for half a second, then grinned. “No charming producers, foreigners, or mysterious strangers backstage.”
Wonyoung laughed, tension finally easing. She leaned over the table and kissed Yujin’s cheek, lingering just long enough to press a second kiss over her dimples.
“I promise,” she said softly. “There’s no one else I want.”
Yujin smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. She pulled Wonyoung into her arms, resting her forehead against hers.
“Six months will pass,” Yujin murmured. “And I’ll still be right here.”
Wonyoung closed her eyes, letting herself believe it.
For now, that promise was enough.
— — —
For the first three months, everything felt manageable.
They learned each other’s time zones by heart.
Morning for one, night for the other.
Short texts between rehearsals, voice notes sent half-asleep, late-night video calls where neither of them talked much, just existing together on a screen.
“Did you eat?” Yujin would ask, almost every day.
“Just finished,” Wonyoung would reply, smiling tiredly. “What about you?”
“Protein shake and regret,” Yujin joked, and Wonyoung would laugh, the sound alone worth staying awake for.
By the fourth month, the cracks started showing.
The tour intensified.
Extra schedules were added.
Fashion events, brand appearances, last-minute flights.
Wonyoung went from country to country within days, sometimes hours. When she finally had free time, it wasn’t really free, it was for sleep.
Yujin noticed.
She still wanted to call. Wanted to hear Wonyoung’s voice, see her face.
But instead, she typed messages and left them unsent for a while before finally pressing send.
Don’t skip meals.
Please rest when you can.
I’ll be here.
Sometimes Wonyoung replied hours later. Sometimes the next day.
Yujin told herself it was okay.
Then one afternoon, scrolling mindlessly after practice, Yujin saw it.
An article. Photos.
Jang Wonyoung attends opening of luxury brand flagship store in Seoul.
Yujin stared at the screen longer than she meant to.
She’s back?
No message. No heads-up.
Not even a “I’ll be in Seoul for a bit.”
Her chest tightened, not out of anger, but hurt.
They managed a short video call later that night. Wonyoung looked exhausted, hair pulled back, makeup barely there.
“You’re in Seoul?” Yujin asked, trying to keep her voice light.
“Just for today,” Wonyoung replied. “I fly back to the US tonight.”
“Oh,” Yujin said quietly. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t think it mattered,” Wonyoung said, genuinely confused. “It was just one day.”
Yujin’s jaw tightened. “It mattered to me.”
Wonyoung frowned. “Yujin, I barely had time to breathe.”
“I know,” Yujin said quickly. “I do know. But if I’d known, even for a few minutes, I would’ve come. I would’ve waited outside. Anything.”
Silence stretched between them.
“You don’t understand how busy it is,” Wonyoung said softly.
“And you don’t understand,” Yujin replied just as softly, “how much just seeing you means to me.”
The argument wasn’t loud.
That made it worse.
Yujin exhaled slowly, rubbing her temple. “Let’s not do this right now. You have a show tomorrow. I don’t want you upset.”
Wonyoung opened her mouth to say something, but Yujin continued, slipping back into the familiar tone she always used.
“Please don’t skip meals. Rest when you can.”
“…Okay,” Wonyoung said quietly.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Yujin added. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Good luck tomorrow.”
The call ended.
Wonyoung stared at her dark screen, phone still pressed to her ear.
It had been almost five months.
She missed Yujin so much it ached, but maybe distance was heavier than either of them expected.
Maybe love wasn’t always enough to bridge time zones and empty spaces.
For the first time since the tour began, Wonyoung wondered if six months was too long after all.
Yujin didn’t reach out the next day.
Neither did Wonyoung.
One day passed.
Then two.
Then three.
For Wonyoung, the silence said everything.
She told herself it made sense.
Distance. Timing.
Lives moving too fast in different directions.
Maybe the argument was just the quiet ending to something that had been slowly hurting both of them.
That afternoon, she cried.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just silent tears that wouldn’t stop, shoulders shaking as she sat alone.
By the time sound check came around, she slipped on sunglasses, practiced her smile in the mirror, and walked out like nothing was wrong.
The show in Chicago went smoothly. Perfect, even.
Wonyoung performed like she always did, sharp, graceful, radiant.
Fans screamed her name.
Lights flashed.
Music drowned out everything else.
For two hours, she let herself forget.
After the encore, breathless and sweaty, she gathered the members instinctively.
“Good job, everyone,” she said warmly. “You all worked hard.”
They cheered, laughing as they headed toward the dressing rooms.
Wonyoung lingered, fixing her mic pack, adjusting her hair.
She entered last…
…and stopped.
A giant bouquet of roses filled the room, vibrant red against the neutral walls. Standing behind it…
Her breath caught.
Yujin.
“Wony.”
Casual clothes. Travel-worn but unmistakably her.
That small smile. Those dimples.
Eyes that had only ever looked at Wonyoung like this.
For a second, Wonyoung couldn’t move.
Then reality hit all at once.
“Yujin…”
She ran.
The flowers were forgotten as she crashed into Yujin’s arms, gripping her tightly like she might disappear if she didn’t. Yujin wrapped her arms around her instantly, holding her just as close.
“You’re here,” Wonyoung whispered, voice breaking.
“I’m here,” Yujin murmured, pressing her cheek to Wonyoung’s hair. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Tears finally spilled, soaking into Yujin’s shirt. Yujin didn’t say anything, just held her, one hand rubbing slow circles into her back.
Behind them, their Manager Unnie took one look and smiled knowingly.
“Alright,” she said gently. “Everyone, go change in the other room.”
The members filed out quietly, pretending not to notice, pretending not to smile.
“Ten minutes, Wonyoung-ah,” the manager added softly. “We need to leave soon. You can continue talking at the hotel.”
Wonyoung didn’t loosen her grip.
Yujin looked up and nodded respectfully. “I’ll take her there. Thank you, manager unnie.”
The door closed.
For a moment, it was just the two of them, breathing, holding, finally in the same space again.
Yujin pulled back just enough to look at her. “You did amazing,” she said softly. “I watched.”
Wonyoung laughed through her tears. “You flew all the way here… for this?”
“For you,” Yujin replied without hesitation.
Wonyoung shook her head, overwhelmed, then leaned forward and buried her face in Yujin’s shoulder again.
“I thought I’ll never see you again,” she whispered.
Yujin tightened her arms around her. “No. I just needed to see you. Not a screen. Not words. You.”
Wonyoung nodded, holding on like she’d never let go again.
Yujin kept her hands on Wonyoung’s back for a moment longer before gently pulling away just enough to look at her. Her voice came first, low and careful.
“You didn’t call me,” Yujin said. “Or text me. After our argument.”
Wonyoung stayed quiet, eyes down, fingers gripping the fabric of Yujin’s shirt.
Yujin swallowed. “Do you know how scared I was?” she continued, honest and unguarded. “I thought… I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
That made Wonyoung look up.
Tears still clung to her lashes.
“I was scared too,” she admitted softly. “The way we ended that call… you didn’t update me after. I thought maybe you were tired of my schedule. Of waiting.”
Yujin let out a slow breath and reached up, gently wiping the tears from Wonyoung’s cheeks with her thumbs.
“Wony,” she murmured. “I was sulking. About the Seoul thing. I wasn’t mad at you.”
“You weren’t?”
“No,” Yujin said quickly. “I just… I wanted you to call me first. And when you didn’t, and two days passed, I panicked.”
Wonyoung’s eyes widened slightly as Yujin continued.
“So I booked a ticket,” Yujin said simply. “I contacted your manager and asked if I could get a pass to see you. I needed to know we were okay.”
For a moment, Wonyoung just stared at her.
Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Yujin again, burying her face into her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is my fault.”
Yujin hugged her back immediately, one hand rubbing soothing circles into her back, the other pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Yujin said firmly. “I overreacted.”
She pulled back just enough to speak clearly. “I just missed you. So much. The distance was killing me. So I figured… if it hurts this much, then I should be the one to adjust.”
Wonyoung looked at her, eyes soft, voice trembling. “I really don’t deserve you.”
Yujin shook her head without hesitation. “Don’t say that.”
She leaned in, closing the space between them, and kissed Wonyoung properly, slow, sure, grounding.
When she pulled back, her forehead rested against Wonyoung’s.
“And yes, you do,” Yujin said quietly. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Yujin drove them back to the hotel quietly, the city lights of Chicago passing by the windows.
Wonyoung sat close in the passenger seat, her hand resting lightly over Yujin’s arm, like she needed the reassurance that Yujin was really here.
When they pulled up to the hotel where the IVE members and staff were staying, Wonyoung didn’t move right away.
“How long are you staying?” she asked softly.
Yujin hesitated. “I might not be able to stay long,” she admitted. “I have soccer practice back home. I was planning to fly out soon.”
Wonyoung’s lips pushed into a small pout. “I know I’m asking for too much, but…” she glanced at Yujin. “Can you stay just one more day? We have a free day tomorrow before the next show. I wanted to spend it with you.”
Yujin leaned back in her seat, already doing mental calculations, practice schedules, makeup sessions, extra conditioning she’d need to make up for. She sighed quietly.
Then she looked at Wonyoung.
The pout. The hopeful eyes.
“…That’s not fair,” Yujin said, shaking her head. “You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that.”
Wonyoung’s face lit up instantly.
“Okay,” Yujin continued. “I’ll stay one more day.”
Wonyoung smiled so wide it almost hurt to look at. “Really?”
“Really,” Yujin confirmed.
“Are you staying here too?” Wonyoung asked. “Or…?”
Yujin nodded. “Yeah. I booked a room after I talked to your manager. Different room, of course. I know we’re in another country, but we still have to be careful. I don’t want any rumors about you sharing a room with someone who isn’t your member.”
Wonyoung’s chest warmed at that. Even after everything, Yujin was still thoughtful, still careful, never demanding, never careless.
She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Yujin’s lips.
“Goodnight, Yujinnie,” Wonyoung whispered. “Thank you for coming tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Yujin’s heart raced, the nickname, the closeness, the way she wanted so badly to pull Wonyoung in for more. Instead, she smiled softly and nodded.
“Goodnight, Wony,” Yujin replied. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
Wonyoung stepped out of the car, glancing back once more before heading inside, already counting the hours until morning.
— — —
They met early the next morning, both dressed down, caps pulled low, simple coats, comfortable shoes. Nothing that would draw attention. Just two people blending into the city.
“Brunch first,” Yujin said, holding the door open.
“Always food first,” Wonyoung agreed, smiling.
They ate slowly, unhurried. Shared plates. Stole bites from each other’s dishes.
“This is good,” Wonyoung said, eyes lighting up. “Why don’t we have brunch dates more often?”
“Because you’re always on another country,” Yujin replied gently.
Wonyoung laughed, then reached across the table to lace their fingers together. No hesitation and fear, just warmth.
After brunch, they wandered through a museum, walking side by side, reading placards out loud, occasionally stopping too close in front of a painting just to whisper comments.
“That one kind of looks like you,” Yujin said at one exhibit.
Wonyoung squinted. “That’s rude.”
“I meant the eyes,” Yujin added quickly. “The intensity.”
“Save yourself,” Wonyoung teased.
At the aquarium, Wonyoung lingered longer than expected, watching the fish glide past the glass.
“They look so free,” she murmured.
Yujin watched her instead. “So do you.”
They walked for hours, hands intertwined, stopping strangers to take touristy photos.
Awkward selfies. Blurry ones. One perfect shot where they were both laughing too hard to pose.
As the sky darkened, they made their way to Navy Pier Park.
Music drifted through the air. Food trucks lined the path.
“Pick for me,” Wonyoung said.
Yujin came back with snacks balanced in her arms. “I may have overestimated how much you eat.”
Wonyoung laughed. “Bold of you to assume I won’t finish all of that.”
They found a spot on the grass just as the first firework cracked open the sky. Colors bloomed overhead, reflected in the water, echoed by distant cheers.
Wonyoung leaned back against Yujin, voice soft. “This is… my favorite date. Ever.”
Yujin wrapped her arms around her from behind, pulling her closer, keeping her warm. She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wonyoung’s head.
“I wish we could have more days like this,” Yujin said quietly. “Just us. No hiding.”
Wonyoung nodded, heart full, and heavy.
She turned in Yujin’s arms, cupping her face with both hands, thumbs brushing over familiar dimples.
“Yujinnie,” she said softly. “We have one more month left of the tour. Can you wait for me a little longer?”
Yujin didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
“I promise,” Wonyoung continued, voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes, “after all of this… I’ll come home to you. Officially.”
Yujin understood immediately.
She leaned forward, kissing Wonyoung properly, slow, certain, full of everything they hadn’t rushed.
When she pulled back, Yujin took Wonyoung’s hand and placed it over her chest.
“I’ll wait for as long as it takes,” Yujin said softly. “And this,” she pressed Wonyoung’s hand gently there “this is yours. Whenever you’re ready.”
Fireworks exploded above them again, bright and fleeting.
But what they promised each other felt steady.
Permanent.
— — —
The girls landed in Incheon just past dawn, exhaustion clinging to them even through the excitement of being home.
Three days of rest.
That was all the agency gave them before the next chapter began.
Wonyoung nodded along during the briefing, but her mind was already somewhere else.
At a soccer field.
She didn’t tell Yujin she was coming.
Not because she didn’t want to, she wanted it to be a surprise. A real one.
By the time she arrived at the FC Seoul stadium with Leeseo, hoodie pulled up and cap low, jet lag was hitting hard. Her body was tired, her eyes burned slightly, but the moment she stepped into the stands and saw the green field, everything else faded.
“She’s really playing today?” Leeseo asked, peeking over the railing.
Wonyoung smiled. “Captain An doesn’t miss playoffs.”
When Yujin finally walked out onto the field with her team, hair tied back, expression focused and sharp, Wonyoung’s heart did that familiar thing, tight and warm all at once.
There she is.
She didn’t wave. Didn’t call out. Just stood up quietly and slipped the FC Seoul jersey over her hoodie.
Yujin’s jersey.
She clapped, once. Twice.
One of the coaches leaned toward Yujin, murmured something in her ear.
Yujin froze for half a second.
Then she looked up.
Straight to the stands.
Her eyes found Wonyoung immediately.
Shock flashed across her face, pure, unfiltered, followed by the widest smile she’d worn in a month.
Dimples deep. Shoulders straightening. Chest puffing out just a little.
Wonyoung lifted both hands and cheered, unable to help herself.
Yujin pointed right at her, tapping her chest once like a promise.
This one’s for you.
The whistle blew.
From the first minute, Yujin was relentless.
“She’s insane today,” Leeseo muttered as Yujin sprinted down the field, stealing the ball cleanly.
Wonyoung’s hands were clasped in front of her mouth, eyes never leaving Yujin.
Yujin defended hard, assisted smoothly, scored like it was second nature. Every goal made Wonyoung jump up, cheering without caring who heard her.
“That’s my…!” She caught herself, laughed, and clapped harder instead.
The opposing team started closing in on Yujin, two players, then three.
Hands pulling. Shoulders checking.
“Are the refs blind?” Leeseo complained loudly. “They’re literally hanging on her.”
Wonyoung’s fingers tightened around the edge of her jersey. Please don’t get hurt. Please.
Last quarter.
Tie game.
Seconds ticking down.
FC Seoul had possession.
“Captain An!” someone shouted from the stands.
Three defenders swarmed Yujin instantly.
Everyone expected the same thing, a final shot from their star.
Yujin took a step back, lined up like she was going to strike.
Wonyoung held her breath.
Then…
A fake.
The ball flew sideways instead.
“RYUJIN!” Leeseo yelled.
Ryujin was wide open.
One clean kick.
The net rippled.
The buzzer sounded.
For half a second, there was silence.
Then the stadium exploded.
FC Seoul players rushed the field, piling onto Ryujin, onto Yujin, laughter and shouting filling the air. Yujin threw her head back, fists raised, joy written all over her face.
In the stands, Wonyoung jumped up and down, cheering freely now, hugging Leeseo without even realizing it.
“She did it,” Wonyoung breathed. “She did it.”
On the field, Yujin looked back to the stands again.
Their eyes met.
And in the middle of all the noise, all the celebration, all the distance they’d survived.
They smiled at each other like they’d already won something far bigger than the game.
The stadium was loud, too loud. Confetti cannons went off, fans were on their feet, and FC Seoul players were hugging whoever was closest.
Reporters immediately rushed toward Yujin.
“Captain An! Over here!”
“Yujin, how does it feel to win like that?”
Before anyone could hand her a mic, Yujin gently nudged it toward Ryujin instead.
“Interview her first,” Yujin said with a grin. “She scored the winning goal.”
Ryujin blinked. “Captain…”
“You earned it,” Yujin insisted, patting her shoulder.
The reporters laughed and quickly surrounded Ryujin. Yujin stepped back, hands on her hips, finally letting herself breathe.
When it was her turn, she kept it short.
“We played like a team today,” Yujin said calmly. “I just did what I always do, gave my best. But today was extra special.”
“Why is that?” a reporter asked.
Yujin hesitated, eyes instinctively drifting toward the stands.
“Because,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips, “someone important came to cheer me on.”
The reporters buzzed instantly.
“A celebrity?”
“An idol?”
Yujin just smiled politely. “That’s all I’ll say.”
Up in the stands, Wonyoung’s heart skipped.
She knew. That was for her.
Wonyoung stayed back, leaning against the wall near the players’ tunnel. Leeseo had already left with her manager, leaving Wonyoung with hers.
“You can go say hi once things calm down,” her manager whispered. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Thank you, Unnie,” Wonyoung said quietly.
She watched from afar as Yujin laughed with her teammates, accepting congratulations, sweat-soaked and glowing. It felt surreal, seeing her like this again, after everything.
Finally, the crowd thinned.
Wonyoung took a small breath and called out softly, “Yujin.”
Yujin turned.
Her face froze for half a second, then lit up completely.
“Wony!”
Yujin didn’t walk.
She ran.
In one smooth motion, she wrapped her arms around Wonyoung and lifted her off the ground, spinning her once before she could stop herself.
“You’re here,” Yujin laughed breathlessly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. When did you get back?”
She suddenly froze. “Wait…I’m sweaty. Sorry, I…”
Wonyoung hugged her tighter, burying her face against Yujin’s shoulder.
“I don’t care,” she said softly. “I’m so proud of you, Baby. You did amazing.”
Yujin stiffened.
“…Baby?” she repeated slowly.
Wonyoung pulled back just enough to see Yujin’s face. Her cheeks were already turning pink.
“Yeah,” Wonyoung said shyly, lifting a hand to cup Yujin’s cheek. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Yujin said quickly. “I just…did you really…”
Wonyoung nodded, eyes warm and steady.
“I promised,” she said gently. “I told you I’d come home to you. I’m home now.”
Yujin swallowed. “So… does this mean… I mean, are we…”
Wonyoung leaned in and kissed her.
Not rushed nor hidden. Just soft and sure.
“Yes, An Yujin,” Wonyoung whispered when she pulled back. “I’m saying yes. I want to be your girlfriend. Officially.”
Yujin stared at her for a second, then broke into the biggest smile Wonyoung had ever seen.
“You have no idea,” Yujin said quietly, resting her forehead against Wonyoung’s, “how long I’ve wanted to hear that.”
She hugged Wonyoung again, this time slower, more certain.
“Welcome home,” Yujin murmured. “My girlfriend.”
Wonyoung smiled, eyes shining. “Your girlfriend.”
From a distance, Wonyoung’s manager cleared her throat lightly.
“Five minutes,” she reminded kindly. “Then we really need to go.”
Yujin nodded quickly. “Of course. Thank you, Unnie.”
Before letting go, Yujin reached for Wonyoung’s hand.
“I saw you wearing my jersey,” she said, smiling. “I played my heart out because of that.”
Wonyoung squeezed her hand. “Good. You’ll be doing that a lot from now on.”
Yujin laughed softly. “Dinner tonight?”
Wonyoung nodded without hesitation. “Dinner tonight.”
As Wonyoung turned to leave, she looked back one last time.
“Yujin.”
“Yeah?”
Wonyoung tapped her chest gently. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”
Yujin’s dimples showed as she smiled.
— — —
The restaurant was quiet in the way only truly private places could be, soft lighting, low music, staff who knew when not to linger.
Yujin arrived first, as always.
She stood when Wonyoung walked in.
And then she forgot how to breathe.
Wonyoung paused for a second when their eyes met, lips curving into a small smile. The black dress fit her perfectly, simple, elegant, effortless. Nothing flashy, yet impossible to look away from.
Yujin cleared her throat. “Wow…”
Wonyoung laughed softly. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
“I’m trying very hard to stay composed,” Yujin admitted, pulling her chair out for her. “But you’re making it difficult.”
“As I should,” Wonyoung teased, sitting down. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Captain.”
Yujin glanced down at her white shirt and slacks. “Just ‘not too bad’?”
Wonyoung leaned forward slightly, eyes roaming without shame.
“Handsomely beautiful. Very. I’m just trying to act normal.”
Yujin smiled, dimples deep. “Good luck with that.”
They ordered steak and wine, the atmosphere settling into something warm and intimate.
Yujin reached across the table, fingers brushing Wonyoung’s hand.
“Is this okay?” she asked quietly.
Wonyoung intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “It’s more than okay.”
Yujin looked down at their hands, then back up. “I still can’t believe I get to do this openly.”
“Get used to it, Baby,” Wonyoung said softly.
Yujin’s heart skipped. “You’re really committed to calling me that, huh?”
“You don’t like it?”
“I love it,” Yujin said quickly. “I just… might melt every time.”
Wonyoung smiled. “So cheesy.”
They talked about everything, Yujin’s game, the playoffs ahead, the tour wrapping up, the comeback preparations.
“I was so tired on the flight home,” Wonyoung admitted, cutting her steak. “But seeing you on the field… it felt like I finally landed.”
Yujin squeezed her hand. “I wanted to run to you the second I saw you in the stands.”
“I could tell,” Wonyoung laughed. “You were puffing your chest out.”
“Hey,” Yujin protested. “I had to impress my girlfriend.”
Wonyoung’s smile softened at that word. “Girlfriend.”
“Officially,” Yujin added quietly.
Dinner ended slowly, neither of them in a rush. Yujin paid without argument, standing again as Wonyoung rose from her seat.
On the drive back to Yujin’s apartment, the city lights reflected softly on the windshield. Wonyoung leaned back, relaxed, fingers laced with Yujin’s over the console.
“This feels nice,” Wonyoung said. “Normal. Peaceful.”
Yujin glanced at her. “I want more days like this.”
“We will,” Wonyoung replied confidently. “No more long-distance countdowns.”
Yujin parked and walked around to open Wonyoung’s door.
She held Wonyoung’s hand as they headed inside, unable to stop smiling.
“Thank you for today,” Wonyoung said softly. “For everything.”
Yujin leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “Thank you for choosing me.”
Wonyoung looked up at her, eyes warm and sure.
“I didn’t choose you today,” she said. “I chose you a long time ago.”
Yujin’s chest tightened, in the best way possible, as she guided them both inside, knowing this was only the beginning.
The apartment door closed behind them with a soft click.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Wonyoung slipped off her heels slowly, deliberately, eyes never leaving Yujin. “I really don’t want this night to end,” she said quietly.
Yujin’s voice came out lower than she intended. “Then it won’t.”
Wonyoung smiled, turning slightly. “I was going to change into your clothes… unless you want to help me.”
Yujin stepped closer, hands hovering before settling at Wonyoung’s waist. “Tell me if I’m too much.”
“Never,” Wonyoung replied.
She turned around, lifting her hair again, exposing her back. Yujin carefully pulled the zipper down, fingertips brushing warm skin. The contact lingered, just enough to make them both inhale sharply.
Wonyoung turned back around, fingers already at Yujin’s shirt, undoing the top button slowly. “You’ve been so patient with me,” she murmured. “I want you to stop holding back.”
Yujin leaned in, kissing her, soft at first, then deeper, more sure. Her lips traced along Wonyoung’s jaw, down her neck, unhurried, intentional.
“Yujin…” Wonyoung whispered, fingers gripping her shirt.
Yujin paused immediately, forehead resting against Wonyoung’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Wonyoung said without hesitation. “Don’t stop.”
They moved together toward the bedroom, touches growing warmer but never rushed. Yujin guided Wonyoung onto the bed gently, hovering above her, eyes searching her face.
“I want this to feel good for you,” Yujin said quietly. “Not overwhelming.”
Wonyoung reached up, pulling Yujin closer. “It already does.”
What followed was slow and intimate, hands learning, kisses deepening, quiet sounds exchanged between soft laughter and breathless murmurs. Every touch was deliberate, every reaction met with reassurance.
When it finally settled, when the world slowed again, Yujin stayed close, pulling Wonyoung against her chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns along her arm.
“Are you okay?” Yujin asked softly.
Wonyoung nodded, tucking her face into Yujin’s neck. “I feel… safe.”
Yujin kissed the top of her head. “That’s all I wanted.”
They lay there together, hearts still racing but bodies calm now, wrapped in warmth and quiet.
“I’m really yours now,” Wonyoung murmured sleepily.
Yujin smiled, holding her a little tighter. “And I’m not letting you go.”
The city lights glowed faintly outside as they drifted into rest, together finally, with nothing left unsaid.