Chapter Text
The late September chill cuts through Jinsol like a knife.
Days have become shorter and the nights: longer, colder, quieter.
Darker.
A little more than terrifying.
But good thing Jinsol’s a little less than afraid (very afraid) of the dark.
The wheels of her faulty bike squeal to life as she glides down a steep hill. They sound like angry bees, meaning Jinsol will probably have to replace the chain soon. For now Jinsol just prays that she makes it home in one piece.
Jinsol races against her steadily growing fear. Nights like these make shadows look alive. They seem to move on their own; their shape not matching who they belong to. Jinsol feels cornered by the absence of sunlight and the abundance of trees with their black reflections.
She does make it home.
And in one piece (although it barely feels like it), Jinsol drags herself to the garage door which shakes when she clumsily settles her bike against it. She’s bone tired and her thighs throb with overexertion from pedaling too fast.
Jinsol manages to make it inside too before passing out from exhaustion.
When she does, she leans against the door, hand against her chest. Waits until the pounding stops before she locks the door twice.
Half-hazerdly tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter, Jinsol only bothers toeing her shoes off. She contemplates sleeping on the couch, but something tells her that her room will be a better choice. Not because it’ll be warmer, or that she can change into something more comfortable, or that her bed is waiting for her, un-made with a heaping pile of pillows.
The inkling to crawl upstairs despite her body trembling in pain is more or less about someone rather than something . Her room is exactly how she left it: messy, the floor piled with clothes, old soda bottles, unfinished sketches. Subconsciously, a voice pierces her thoughts. The same voice that lured her up here.
You’ve made a mess Jinsol
Seconds later Jinsol’s gaze flickers towards her bedroom window and of course, the silhouette of her is there, as it always is.
Jinsol checks the clock.
2:27 a.m
The reason Jinsol is up so late is because she works at a cinema. The manager, Jungeun, is a little meticulous about closing due to her being a clean freak. The last showing is at 10:05 and just so happens it’s a two and a half hour long movie. Jinsol’s luck.
But the girl next door? There’s no logical reason for her to be up at such an ungodly hour.
At this point, Jinsol thinks she does it on purpose
Jinsol stands in silence surrounded by the darkness that’s no longer frightening, while the girl next door acts like her very own nightlight. The glow from her room, warm and soothing, reaches into Jinsol’s and her shadow stretches onto the walls where paint is beginning to peel.
She raises her arms and twirls, she bends and poses the perfect body that belongs to her. Minutes tick by and Jinsol stares with unwavering eyes. Entranced with someone she believes has a beauty that no one else could ever achieve or even dream of.
This girl next door, Ha Sooyoung, is a sight for sore eyes. It’s difficult for Jinsol to believe such a person exists.
But the evidence is there, right in front of her. Her heaven personified dances within the window frame. The curtains pulled so that Jinsol is only graced with the shape of her.
Sooyoung flaunts around as if she doesn’t know Jinsol’s window is directly across from hers. As if she doesn’t know Jinsol watches.
A small smile materializes on Jinsol’s lips.
When she finally brings herself to look away, the silhouette across from her looks straight on, right past pretty silk curtains and into her room. Jinsol doesn't catch it - the next time she glances that way, Sooyoung is doing assemblés.
Jinsol throws her headphones on, volume all the way up to drown any thought that dares to float.
(Thoughts of lithe limbs and pink lips. Of the velvet-like voice and the pretty teeth it slips through. Of the eyes that carry something scarier to Jinsol than the dark.)
She lies down in bed and stares at the ceiling. In her palm she holds the pendant of her gold necklace. Sleep doesn’t come despite how weary she is.
It never does when she knows Sooyoung is awake.
Another freezing, cloudy day.
So much that Jinsol’s breath comes out as tiny puffs. Her fingers go numb as she pulls the chain from her bike. Sure enough it’s rusted. Definitely not because Jinsol doesn’t take care of it like she’s supposed to. It’s a mystery why it keeps getting damaged.
The fall is gentle, quiet, enough for Jinsol to pick up on every little sound. Like the leaves rolling past the cracked, weathered down pavement. The old dog down the street that barks all morning long. The soft steps creeping up behind her.
“Sooyoung you know I can hear you right?”
A small groan cuts through the air.
“Oh come on I was so close this time!”
Jinsol peaks over her shoulder to find Sooyoung pouting. She was close this time, only a few steps behind Jinsol before she caught the sound of padded shoes on concrete. Jinsol gives a quick shake of her head before going back to fixing her bike.
She would say she woke up early to do this, but she never fell asleep in the first place.
Jinsol wonders how much sleep Sooyoung got.
Sooyoung crouches beside Jinsol, her eyes bright and shiny. Skin glowing even in the pale morning sun. Looks like she got plenty of rest.
“Good morning.”
Jinsol only grunts in response.
Sooyoung accepts the half-assed reply, only leans in closer. “You wouldn’t have to change them all the time if you’d just put your bike up.” Jinsol turns to glare at Sooyoung and soon regrets it. She’s only a paperclips length away and this close, she’s smothered by her perfume.
Cinnamon, freshly baked apples, caramel. Always so sweet. Sooyoung is.
Jinsol scoots away, she can’t handle how close Sooyoung gets to her sometimes. It’s dizzying, so much that Jinsol can barely function.
“I just don’t want you getting hurt or anything because of your shitty ass bike.” Sooyoung scolds and Jinsol hums absent-mindedly. “I mean look at it.”
A curious hand reaches out to poke at the chain Jinsol’s fixing and she slaps it away. The next few minutes are filled with peaceful silence as the morning turns from misty blue to hazy orange. Sooyoung watches attentively and Jinsol resists the urge to steal quick glances to her left.
Once the bike is good as new; Jinsol gives her undivided attention to Sooyoung.
(Besides, it’s all that Sooyoung honestly wants from her. To always have Jinsol in her personal space. For Jinsol’s focus to solely belong to her. It just feels a little too good).
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
There’s a lot of reasons, but only one answer comes to mind.
“I like staring at you, that’s all.” She shrugs and tries to make out if Sooyoung is disgusted or involuntarily flattered.
Jinsol concludes it's a bit of both, since Sooyoung shoves her for the remark, while at the same time her cheeks flood with crimson.
Her face matches her pink scarf and before Jinsol can comment on the fact, the girl buries it in her jacket that’s zipped up to her chin. “You’re doing way too much Jinsol. It’s not even eight yet.”
Jinsol’s not sure what ‘too much’ means. So she asks, “what? Too early for flirting?” Suddenly, the flushed face is replaced with weak knees when Sooyoung goes to stand but only wobbles her way up. Jinsol is pretty sure she even hears a suppressed shut up as she takes a moment to admire Sooyoung from the new angle.
Sooyoung pretends to find something more interesting in the distance. And there’s something about the rosy cheeks and vacant stare that rips Jinsol apart at the seams. Where the only thing that’s left of her is loosened shreds of longing, and a messy pile of want.
She doesn’t mean to be cliche, but Sooyoung is kind of perfect. Not because they’ve grown up together being next door neighbors and all. It isn’t an baseless observation due to Jinsol’s personal bias to Sooyoung. She still has her flaws, many of them.
Sooyoung is still beyond comparison despite them.
If Jinsol didn’t know Sooyoung inside out perhaps she’d idolize her more or it could be her imperfections that puts her above all. There’s just something about her. Something that other people just don’t have.
She just has this ethereal look about her that comes naturally.
Maybe supernaturally.
Sooyoung isn’t anyone else’s perfect, but she’s Jinsol’s perfect. Isn’t easy to love, but has somehow become the only person that Jinsol does.
“Here.” Sooyoung says lowly (ignoring Jinsol, who is still staring) before handing Jinsol her breakfast sandwich. One she receives every morning.
One they used to share.
Jinsol still goes to tear it in half but Sooyoung covers her hand with her own. “Don’t, I already ate.” She lies, Jinsol knows, but she doesn’t try and argue like she used to. Jinsol knows it’s useless at this point and Sooyoung’s breath has only smelled of mint toothpaste the past three weeks.
She wordlessly stuffs it in her jacket pocket.
Her stomach growls but Jinsol won’t eat in front of Sooyoung. Coincidentally Jinsol’s stomach isn’t the only thing that feels empty. Despite bubbling concern, Jinsol lifts her bike up with a smile,“your ride awaits your highness”, she jokes as Sooyoung returns it when she takes her designated seat.
Sooyoung presses her face to her back and Jinsol doesn’t bother deciphering the hidden words muffled into the fabric of her coat.
Jinsol peddles crouched and Sooyoung sits behind her. Slim arms were wrapped around Jinsol’s waist from the moment they took off. Nimble Hands slip inside, their palms against Jinsol’s bare skin. It’s routine now. Even the way Sooyoung squeezes onto her tighter whenever they turn down a street has become a habit.
At the spot where they part ways, Sooyoung rubs up and down Jinsol’s sides.
A gesture that’s supposed to be soothing but Sooyoung’s hands are cold, as they always are; it only makes Jinsol shiver.
“I think it’s time for a new jacket.”
Jinsol glances down, sure, her jacket isn’t the same as it was when she first got it four years ago. Sooyoung had gifted it to her for her fifteenth birthday. One of the few birthdays she actually had received something with Sooyoung being the only person to ever get her anything. She wasn’t willing to let go of it easily, no matter how worn and ratty it has become.
Before she can tell Sooyoung this -that she’ll never get rid of this jacket - chapped yet pillowy lips press gently against the tip of her nose. Jinsol blinks dumbly at the affection although it shouldn’t surprise her anymore.
There’s always been an intense need to touch within Sooyoung that doesn’t entirely make sense to Jinsol. Sometimes, it feels like Sooyoung is checking if she’s still there. Or to remind Jinsol that she’s there too, always in arms reach.
Sooyoung cups her cheeks with a tenderness that makes it harder for Jinsol to breathe.
“Are you working tonight?”
Jinsol swallows; nothing about Sooyoung’s touch is warm, yet it still manages to heat every inch of her. She nods. Another closing shift. Another look of disappointment from Sooyoung.
“Be careful okay? And call me when you get home.” Jinsol won’t. Even if she sees that Sooyoung is awake. Because she knows Sooyoung will try and come over if she does (despite wanting that, Jinsol knows that Sooyoung doesn’t need any distractions).
Jinsol agrees anyway.
Sooyoung’s hands fall limp at her sides; slowly, Jinsol watches her become smaller and smaller until she disappears entirely. Jinsol adjusts her headphones onto her ears and heads the opposite direction.
During class, she tries to not think about how thin Sooyoung has gotten.
Jinsol emerges from the pool. Her senses succumb to the smell of chlorine and the sound of water lapping against porcelain tiles. Jinsol wipes at her eyes that sting from the overload of chemicals in the pool.
Once she opens them, her chest tightens at the sight of bruised, swollen feet. Pointe shoes cover them and the bandages that are wrapped around sores and blisters. Jinsol’s gaze travels up to find that she’s being studied just as carefully.
Sometimes, Sooyoung doesn’t seem human. What Jinsol is witnessing at this moment is raw ambition encased within layers of muscle. Judging by Sooyoung’s sunken cheeks and dark circles she’s been practicing for hours, probably twice as long as everyone else.
Her tiny frame is covered by an oversized sweater. She still has her tights on and Jinsol assumes she must have come straight here.
For as long as Jinsol’s can remember, she’s been Sooyoung’s haven.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Is what Sooyoung asks and Jinsol only has the urge to laugh at that stern tone she uses. Instead, she reaches for the ledge of the pool and rests her elbows onto it. A step away, Sooyoung stands with her arms crossed, as if Jinsol’s about to be in big trouble.
She only finds Sooyoung’s attempt at intimidation adorable.
“Do you?” Jinsol asks back.
They stare at each other for what feels like hours on end. The water continues to ripple around Jinsol as she lazily kicks her legs. It’s warm in the pool, but Sooyoung’s steady gaze manages to make everything inside come to a boil.
Then Sooyoung rolls her eyes and the smile she was fighting before reaches her lips finally.
Sooyoung sits directly in front of her and Jinsol averts her line of sight. Jinsol can’t stand seeing Sooyoung’s body after training. Rigid, her skin retaining a layer of sweat, the evidence of pain and fatigue ever so apparent in her features. The reality of hard work. Too much work.
Her feet are the most obvious sign of her excessive commitment to dance. She knows to tuck them underneath her sweater as she pulls her knees to her chest.
Jinsol dares to look at her again once Sooyoung has hidden them.
The shade of blue crawls from the depths of the pool and seeps into Sooyoung’s expression. She’s frowning, but tired eyes hold bliss. Sooyoung’s happy for whatever reason.
Jinsol dismisses the idea that she’s the reason why.
“Tell me.”
Sooyoung’s smile grows.
“Tell you what?”
Jinsol rests her chin on her folded arms, “something happened.” She says matter-of-factly. The way Sooyoung sighs lets Jinsol know she’s right.
Sooyoung is looking down at her hands and nervously picking at her nails. A habit of hers when she’s anxious or eager. Jinsol doesn’t know which one it is right now.
“I got assigned a solo.”
At first, Jinsol only blinks in disbelief and then shakes the insignificant amount of doubt out of her head.
Of course she did.
This is Ha Sooyoung. The Ha Sooyoung. When the girl puts her mind to something it’s safe to bet that it’ll be accomplished.
Without thinking about it any longer Jinsol lifts herself out of the pool and Sooyoung screams as another body collides with hers. Jinsol ignores the shrill voice whining for her to get off. It encourages her to indulge herself a little longer than she intentionally intended in dull warmth. She lets the water clinging to her skin soak through to Sooyoung’s.
She pulls away when the heat from Sooyoung’s previous stare lowers, and Jinsol starts having thoughts she shouldn’t be having. Jinsol finds Sooyoung still very upset that her clothes are wet but the smile playing on her lips tells her that she’s not in too much trouble.
There’s only one thing that comes to mind. A mantra of a phrase that she’s repeated more to Sooyoung than everyone else in the world combined.
“I’m so proud of you.”
She tells Sooyoung like she doesn’t already know.
With the look Sooyoung gives her, Jinsol could almost believe that the girl is in love with her. Jinsol thinks being praised is what she’s actually in love with. But sometimes, Jinsol allows herself to indulge in the fantasy of the former.
Jinsol flutters her eyes shut when Sooyoung pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. Fingertips featherlight, gentle.
Small touches like that make it easier to dream.
To believe that Sooyoung could ever feel that way about her.
(Jinsol knows Sooyoung feels...something. But it isn’t close to innocent, akin to something more predatory, possessive).
Her touch lingers and Jinsol is suddenly aware of how close they are. Bodies pressed together without any space left between them. Sooyoung’s hand that isn’t fitted against the curve of her jaw settles in the dip of her spine.
Jinsol shifts off to the side when something hungry, taunting, takes shape behind Sooyoung’s gaze. Jinsol swallows uncomfortably when the tension stretches thick and heavy between them.
For a few seconds, it’s awkward. Jinsol waits for whatever had suddenly taken over Sooyoung to vanish. Her body temperature was incredibly hot. Sweltering.
Sooyoung huffs and pulls at the damp fabric of her hoodie before tearing it off entirely.
Jinsol watches as steam rolls off tan skin and muscle. Lean and tight. Sooyoung inhales, slow, too shallow than any person should.
As she focuses on the way Sooyoung’s body cools, fingers wrap into her own.
“Can I stay with you tonight?”
Jinsol squeezes at the bone and her blood turns cold at what she sees. She forces the words out even though her throat is beginning to close in on itself.
“You know you don’t have to ask.”
Sooyoung brings Jinsol’s hand up to her lips, kisses her knuckles. Jinsol grits her teeth at the prickling sensation it causes.
Fear begins to chew at her insides. Inch by inch, so faint Jinsol barely notices.
Black, like dirt - or blood - is gathered beneath Sooyoung’s nails. The same nails that were blunt this morning. Now jagged and ripped, sharp.
Animal.
Jinsol slips back into the water and ignores the way Sooyoung tries to cling onto her.
Her hand is still linked to Sooyoung’s. Even as she tries to float away. Sooyoung tugs on her. Digs those nails right into her flesh.
“Let me do a few more laps? Then we can go.”
Jinsol pleads.
She pleads for Sooyoung to go back to being human.
Sooyoung eventually, reluctantly nods and her face goes back to being soft around the edges. Like it’s meant to be.
Jinsol doesn’t ever have to dream about Sooyoung loving her. Sooyoung loves her to death . Sooyoung’s love for her is painful, obsessive, invasive. It’s buried deep within Jinsol. Her love is the vines of a thorned plant, wrapped around her heart, her lungs, her stomach. Interwoven into every little crevice where they can fit.
During moments like these, they wound tighter and tighter like barbed wire, cutting away at her, a reminder that they’re forever embedded into Jinsol.
If Jinsol wear to try tear Sooyoung away from her she surely wouldn’t survive.
The worst part is.
Jinsol doesn’t know if she would want to.
So she swims.
Sinks underwater and wishes she didn’t have to come back up.
It’s been a few months since Sooyoung was accepted in the program.
Sooyoung’s always been a dancer, dreaming of being the best. So when she got the letter that she was accepted into the prestigious ballet school in their city and better yet placed in the top class, Jinsol began to worry.
It’s just that Sooyoung doesn’t know how or when to quit. She doesn’t know how to rest. Sooyoung pushes herself to her limits everyday, to the brink of breaking. Jinsol would admire her ambition if it wasn’t going to eventually destroy her.
Jinsol unwraps the bandages and athletic tapes from Sooyoung’s feet. Diligence, determination, perseverance are all fixed deeply into the bruises and blisters. Her toenails are almost black and Jinsol can’t help but cringe, she can feel the pain and discomfort just by looking at them.
“They’re gross I know- gosh, don’t make that face.”
Sooyoung’s sitting on the edge of her bed. One of Jinsol’s pillows locked into her embrace, being squeezed harder and harder with every wound Jinsol reveals.
Jinsol doesn’t entertain the thought. Sooyoung is the kind of girl that thinks every inch of her has to be perfect. Jinsol has noticed how little Sooyoung has been eating lately. Jinsol has also heard rumors of the dance director being overly critical of image.
She’s already perfectly refined; Sooyoung doesn’t need anyone whispering in her ear that she needs to be better when she’s already doing her best. Sooyoung may have thick skin and a hard head, but Jinsol knows deep down how sensitive the girl is. She feels everything literally. Even if other girls are being humiliated Sooyoung will feel an aberrant shame.
She wants to take care of everyone but herself.
“You’ve always had chicken feet.” Jinsol says, trying to distract Sooyoung from obviously snowballing thoughts. Instead, she only seems to give rise to Sooyoung’s hunger. Jinsol doesn’t fight the grin that threatens to grow when Sooyoung’s stomach growls.
“Chicken feet would be so good right now.”
“Ewww. Nasty ass.”
Jinsol pokes fun at her but freezes when she sees that Sooyoung’s mouth is on the verge of watering.
“You ever think about,” Sooyoung licks her lips and swallows heavily; like she’s starving, “if there was something higher on the food chain than us. That they would pickle our feet? Like we do with pigs and shit.”
Jinsol stares, the gears in her head begin to overwork themselves, she doesn’t think hot and spicy chicken is what is about to make Sooyoung start drooling. She takes a minute to oil the gears. Maybe Sooyoung is just being weird, she tends to say off the wall things from time to time just to mess with Jinsol.
“W- like what?”
“If there was something out there that hunted us, if we were the prey. If they would do silly things to our bodies like pickling or frying us in butter.” Sooyoung says stiffly, this isn’t just another one of her dark jokes. She’s being serious. “You know, to bring out the flavor.”
Jinsol blinks.
What the fuck?
This should be incredibly alarming to Jinsol. Should be the part where her flight or fight mode kicks in. Instead she just ignores the uneasy feeling filling her lower abdomen and chalks it up to Sooyoung’s dark sense of humor.
“You’re being weird Sooyoung. Pretty sure cannibals only think about cooking people.”
The girl shrugs, “I’m not saying other people are doing that Jinsol. You don’t think that it could be a possibility? That we’re not just predators, but also prey.”
She squirms under Sooyoung’s gaze, which is suddenly just the thing she mentioned- predatory. It’s like Sooyoung’s trying to tell her something. That there is something out there that’s preying on humans.
Munching on them like chicken feet.
(And the possibility that...that something could be Sooyoung).
“Bahaha I’m joking! You should have seen the look on your face!” Sooyoung rushes to the floor and reaches out to squish Jinsol’s cheeks, “so cute, it was so cute.”
Jinsol’s still trying to wrap her mind around the bizarre conversation as Sooyoung pets on her, appearing to be incredibly amused. A fat kiss lands straight between her brows and Sooyoung pulls away only to look serious again.
“If there was something out there eating people. I wouldn’t let it get you, I promise.” Before Jinsol can even reply to such an idea; Sooyoung is making her way out of the room, “gonna go shower. Brb.”
She’s left with a slack jaw, picks it back up when she knows for sure she’s alone and sighs out in relief.
There’s always been something off about Sooyoung.
Jinsol cleans up her room as Sooyoung showers. Tries not to think about the stench of ash and decay under Sooyoung’s usual scent.
By the time Sooyoung returns, she’s greeted with a tidy floor and fresh smell of linen. Just the way she likes it. There’s also a few pizzas. Jinsol is leaned up against the corner of the bed smiling and already gnawing at a slice.
“You take long showers.”
Jinsol watches as something takes over Sooyoung: giddiness, happiness, something more than at the pool when she was telling Jinsol about her accomplishment. The girl, still in her towel and hair dripping wet, settles beside her. Jinsol doesn’t pay attention to how Sooyoung’s nails have gone back to normal, nor to how she no longer smells like a corpse.
She just looks like Sooyoung. Like she always has, like she always did until about two years ago.
Jinsol refuses to acknowledge it.
The sudden...change in Sooyoung from time to time. Where she seems hungry, starving- just like she did about an hour ago when she brought up pickling people's feet, but not for a home cooked meal, for something else. Something alive and helpless. Something - or someone - she can sink her teeth into.
Right now, Sooyoung is the girl she grew up with. The pizza box flies open and Sooyoung chows down like it’s her last meal on Earth. Jinsol smiles just a little, she didn’t even have to persuade Sooyoung this time to eat.
Sooyoung starts talking miles a minute, about anything or everything. Jinsol listens as she always does because she’s the only one Sooyoung is comfortable enough to blabber to. Guilt builds within her for just a moment; she pushes it to the side, out of sight, and stares at the tiny bit of pizza sauce lingering on the corner of Sooyoung’s mouth.
Jinsol tells herself that she’s allowed to have her space from Sooyoung. She’s allowed to say no to hanging out or sleeping over. She’s allowed to avoid Sooyoung every once in a while. Jinsol shouldn’t feel guilty about neglecting her bestfriend’s insistent need to be with her.
Convinces herself that she doesn’t have to be by Sooyoung’s side every waking moment. They’re not teenagers or kids anymore. She doesn’t have to protect Sooyoung’s tender heart from such a cruel world no longer.
Doesn't mean that instinct is still deeply rooted into her.
To protect Sooyoung.
But maybe it’s changed, maybe Sooyoung doesn’t need to be shielded by her anymore; maybe it’s other people that need protecting from Sooyoung.
A single finger reaches underneath her chin, lifts her from the grave of what ifs and buts that she was digging herself into.
“Hey Jinsol, are you listening?”
Ah, Sooyoung’s doing it again.
That thing whenever Jinsol starts to pull away, physically or emotionally, from her.
A reminder. The reminder.
It alone destroys any argument she comes up with. The argument that they’ve grown out of each other. Childhood friends always eventually drift apart, become estranged or forgotten. But Jinsol doesn’t think she’ll ever detach herself from Sooyoung. She may never even attempt it. That’s not what Sooyoung wants, after all.
(She knows she’ll never want that either).
Jinsol's skin starts to crawl and her pulse pounds in her throat. Sooyoung’s touch is teasing, taunting. On the inside of Jinsol’s thigh, Sooyoung’s fingertips leave hot red streaks as they travel up, up and up. They curl in and squeeze. Jinsol closes her legs and pushes Sooyoung’s hand away. Turns from the languid look in Sooyoung’s eyes.
It’s not on purpose, Sooyoung has never known how to keep her hands to herself and well Jinsol would be lying if she said she hated it.
Sooyoung seems to catch onto Jinsol’s discomfort. Brings her hand to somewhere a little more innocent.
Slowly, she reaches in to thread her fingers through Jinsol’s hair, blunt nails scraping across her scalp. It’s the little things like this. The gentle burn of Sooyoung’s touch, the faint tugs, the sting of nails digging into tender skin.
These are the little things that mark Jinsol. The little things that remind her; reminds her that she belongs to Sooyoung.
“Some of the girls don’t think I deserve it.”
The next morning, while Jinsol is rewrapping her feet, Sooyoung just blurts it out.
“Well, fuck ‘em.”
Sooyoung gives her a pointed look and Jinsol shrugs. Sooyoung has the ideology of earning respect rather than demanding it or going without. Then again, Sooyoung has always been entirely too idealistic. Jinsol is the one who brings her back down to earth when she floats too high.
“I mean I am new. I’ve not even been in there for two months.”
Anger begins to build, “don’t start this Sooyoung.” Jinsol snaps, “It doesn’t matter if you're new, or where you came from, or how long you’ve been dancing.” Sooyoung didn’t come from a private school. She’s not from a nice neighborhood. She was raised by a single mother that was barely there and now basically nonexistent. She didn’t start dancing until she was twelve when most of the girls in that class started when they were five.
Sooyoung’s unconventional, yet surpasses them all.
“You’re better than them bitches.”
“Jinsol.”
Sooyoung is a sincere person. When other people are cruel to her she isn’t cruel back. She just tries to prove them wrong. Jinsol thinks it’s cute, also annoying. The girls in the class have out-casted Sooyoung, belittled her, and mocked her. Even though she has ten times the talent. She has the potential that they will never begin to have.
“I’m serious, it’s all pretentious. Titles, backgrounds, last names none of that matters, what matters is passion and that’s all that you are.”
Sooyoung stares into her.
“If anyone deserves to be there it’s you.” Jinsol finishes Sooyoung’s wrappings, “so yeah, fuck them. They’re jealous because they could never dream of being half as good as you are.”
Jinsol’s hands shake from frustration. Doesn’t understand how Sooyoung can just take it.
Instead she just takes it as an incentive to work harder.
Sooyoung joins her on the bedroom floor. Cups her face with soft, gentle hands, “tell me again.” The pressure in Jinsol’s veins swell painfully. Suddenly overflowing with blood. Like they need to be released. Emptied. “Tell me that I’m better.”
This…this isn’t Sooyoung. Who always finds a way to knock herself a little lower than she truly is. Humble is the only way to describe it. But this...this is someone who feeds off praise rather than rejecting it.
“You’re better than all of them.”
Something is wickedly sweet about Sooyoung’s smile, hypnotizing.
“And you believe that?”
“I know so. I don’t have to believe.”
Sooyoung suddenly looks awfully hungry. And judging by the direction of Sooyoung’s gaze. She’s craving Jinsol’s lips.
“I missed you. I feel like I haven’t seen you lately.”
Jinsol swallows, throat bobs, and hates the way Sooyoung’s pupils dilate.
“Don’t stray from me Jinsol.”
Sooyoung whispers, it sways Jinsol like a lullaby. Jinsol’s eyes start to flutter closed, lulled asleep, she doesn’t understand why her consciousness is slipping. Or why words seem so distant and far, yet pressed tightly against her ear.
I need you.
Please, stay loyal to me.
Jinsol tries to grasp onto her surroundings, but the voice hushes her numb.
I love you Jinsol. You know that right? There is nothing that I love more than you.
Sooyoung’s love should terrify Jinsol.
I love you baby, always
Instead, it only comforts.
A newspaper flies into Jinsol’s view.
The headlining article: 24 year old missing. His name is MJ, short for Min-jae. Handsome but a loner. No one noticed he was gone at first, the kind of guy to be quiet for a while. Until he was quiet for too long.
The backdoor of the cinema swings open.
“Your girlfriend is here.”
Hyunjin, the other girl that works the nightshift says seriously, which only gets on Jinsol’s nerves.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Mhm whatever you say.”
The door falls back shut and Jinsol is left to squirm with embarrassment. She remains sitting in on the plastic crate she uses for her breaks. Deciding to let Sooyoung wait.
Jinsol sighs and leans her head back on brick, searches out into the night. The back lot is empty except for a single street lamp that buzzes with life. It only lights a small section of the otherwise dark area.
The wind blows. But something else sends chills Jinsol to the core.
Large bushes that line the end of the lot sway with the rhythm of the breeze. There’s one particular bush that rocks in the other direction, off beat from the others, and it makes Jinsol uneasy. Like there’s something in them watching her.
The crate teeters to the side when she stands too quickly.
Inside, Sooyoung is already waiting for her. Spending that time staring at Jungeun while leisurely snacking on popcorn.
They’re in some sort of mute competition, those two. Sooyoung smiles mockingly and Jinsol can tell Jungeun has only a thin strand of patience left.
At times, Sooyoung can be impish.
Compared to Jungeun, pragmatic and a stickler for responsibility, it’s safe to say the two have never gotten along.
Jinsol calls out her name and the mischief within Sooyoung’s expression vanishes, replaced by elated relief. That smile Sooyoung gives could make Jinsol forget just about everything.
Sooyoung makes her feel like the only purpose she has is to call out her name.
Her excitement is genuine as she hurries up to Jinsol, instantly pulling her into a tight embrace. Sooyoung’s hand presses into the small of her back, dangerously inching lower and lower onto her waist and eventually her hip.
Jinsol sighs when Sooyoung squeezes the flesh there. Her throat dries when she feels Sooyoung press her nose behind her ear, and breathes in. The inhale broken into fragments.
What she doesn’t know is that Sooyoung shoots deadly glares at Jungeun the whole time she does this. Pressing a feather-light kiss onto the edge of Jinsol’s jaw just to taste her. Sooyoung repeats the affection one more time and makes sure Jungeun is watching, like a muted warning to stay away from what's hers.
Sooyoung’s hugs are always cold, but Jinsol finds warmth in them anyways. No one hugs her like Sooyoung does. Like she doesn’t want to let go. The bad thing is, Jinsol would let her cling on forever if she wanted to.
Jinsol pushes her away because a thought like that makes her feel pathetic.
“Sooyoung, h-.”
“Hands to myself, yes I know.”
She says it so breathlessly, and her eyes are glazed over. Jinsol creates even more space between them.
Sooyoung looks intoxicated with her.
That’s when she picks up on it. The smell of it is so strong that Jinsol can almost taste it on her lips. Something metallic. Like iron. Like blood.
She ignores it, shoves it to the back of her mind. Because really, what monster would have a baby-face and a smile that’s Jinsol’s first love.
“Oh so you know yet you still do it,” Jinsol says shyly. Then turns to look at their audience of two. Hyunjin who looks annoyingly smug, and Jungeun unmistakingly annoyed, “you are aware they think you’re my girlfriend right?”
A grin stretches across Sooyoung’s teeth, they look abnormally sharp. “Aaand is there something wrong with that?” Sooyoung’s obviously pleased at the assumptions and Jinsol presses her palms against her chest when she’s pulled closer by her pants loops.
Jinsol has never understood Sooyoung’s excessive need to touch. She isn’t about to start complaining though. She likes the peaks of frustration that appear behind Sooyoung’s features whenever she denies her the contact.
“Yes.”
The response allows Jinsol to wiggle out of Sooyoung’s grip.
She feels awfully bad at the broken look on Sooyoung’s face. Her lips pouting and eyebrows upturned. Her feelings truthfully hurt.
“Because we’re not together.” Jinsol resists the urge to scream. Sooyoung does these kinds of things on purpose just to tease her. Her acting is Oscar worthy admittedly, so much that it’s a bit too convincing for Jinsol. “I swear Sooyoung-”
“Are you feeling okay?”
Sooyoung interrupts Jinsol, not wanting to hear her stumble around the assembled lies about her secret desires.
Jinsol rolls her eyes as Sooyoung comes up with more excuses to touch her. A palm against her forehead. The other one on the back of her neck. Warm.
“I’m feeling fine.”
“What about your shoulder? You were sleeping kind of funny last night.” Sooyoung’s fingers smooth into the cords of her throat, down to the muscle. Jinsol swears her blood starts to gather there. Throbs as it swells with heat.
The memory of Sooyoung lying in bed with her, the memory of cool lips against her skin. Of legs tangled up with hers. It feels like a dream. She woke up with Sooyoung already dressed and ready to go. Looking entirely too spirited and alive for seven in the morning.
She was basically glowing.
“I’m okay, it’s okay.”
Jinsol whispers out when the memories are muddled with flashes of pain, sounds of desperate gulps. She pushes Sooyoung’s hands away from her and this time they don’t return.
“Are you coming home tonight?” Sooyoung’s question comes out hurriedly, rushing in right after Jinsol’s last words.
Jinsol looks at her, feels a bit guilty but reminds herself she just spent the night with Sooyoung. “I was gonna stay with Jungeun.” The smile fades from Sooyoung’s lips and Jinsol scrambles to reverse the effect, “I mean it’ll be late and her place is closer.”
It changes, Sooyoung’s entire demeanor. Like the very idea of sharing Jinsol is ridiculous. Her jaw tightens at the screws for a split second then relaxes. Whatever came over Sooyoung: jealousy, possessiveness, a need to stake a claim on what’s hers, vanishes as quickly as it had formed.
“Okay,” Sooyoung replies softly, “just text me, so I know you're safe.” The sincereness kneaded into her words causes Jinsol to go a bit mushy inside and powerless against the sudden urgency to cancel her plans and to just go home.
Jinsol composes herself and refuses to let Sooyoung win her over with subtle persuasion.
She also ignores the pleading look in Sooyoung’s, like a kitten begging to be patted on. “What are you even doing here?” Sooyoung presses her lips together, finally giving up on whatever it was she was trying.
“I wanted a snack.”
A lie.
She shakes the popcorn in her hand, surely some of it’s in Jinsol’s hair now from when Sooyoung slung her arm over her shoulders.
“I love your popcorn.” Sooyoung sighs when Jinsol doesn’t reply, “and you.”
“Oh whatever,” Jinsol feels her face heat up. Sooyoung’s look is smoldering and the sensation in Jinsol’s chest is awkwardly painful. Instead of addressing it, Jinsol weakly pushes Sooyoung away, “go. Before you get me in trouble.”
That stare gets even more sinister.
Yet Sooyoung listens, because judging by the frustration apparent in both her coworkers' expressions Jinsol’s already in trouble.
Jinsol returns to the counter, ignores the glances of disapproval and the way Sooyoung stops at the crowd at the ticket line. Eyes filtering through them before focusing on one. Like a lioness singling out the weakest in a herd.
“She’s a little handsy isn’t she.”
Jungeun’s voice comes from her left.
Jinsol thinks of cold touches that burn sharp and deep. Thinks of the sweltering heat they bring even when they chill the surface of her skin. Goosebumps rise as everything inside melts down to nothing. Leaves Jinsol feeling sticky and spineless.
It hurts, just a little. How much she likes it.
“Yeah, a little.”
It hurts just a little bit.
3:37 a.m
Sooyoung gets a call.
“Why are you up? It’s like three in the morning.”
The blood at the corner of her mouth drips as she smiles. Sooyoung presses the pad of her thumb to it, wipes it away.
The reflection in the mirror doesn’t look like her, but it feels like her. Sooyoung leans closer into the sink counter and inspects her teeth. They’re stained; nothing an expensive whitening stripe can’t fix.
Sooyoung ignores Jinsol’s rude greeting and asks a pointless question, as she already knows the answer.
“Can’t sleep without me?”
Jinsol’s sigh sounds of static and frustration. “No it’s not that.” Sooyoung rubs her lips together, red pearls drops gather on her chin, she wipes the other corner of her mouth. Sooyoung guesses it was unfair to text Jinsol that she missed her while she was with Jungeun. But jealousy itches, burns, and stings like poison. Sooyoung can’t scratch away that feeling.
“Why won’t you admit it?”
Loneliness, however, cuts Sooyoung. It skips the skin and slices deep. Pain she can’t really see on the surface, easier to hide, but harder to endure.
The speaker fizzes, the line still alive but the voice on the other end dead.
Sooyoung’s reflection is undeniably human now, but she doesn’t recognize herself. Not when Jinsol is being so distant.
“They found that boy.”
She whispers out. Afraid even from miles away.
“What boy?
“Min-Jae. He um, they’re saying it’s an animal. He was ripped to shreds.” Oh yeah, him. Sooyoung hums, cleans the rest of the blood from her teeth and lower face. She leaves her bathroom and heads to her room. The one right across from Jinsol’s
“Must have been a bear, oor I dunno maybe a mountain lion.”
“Sooyoung you know the only predators around her are foxes and owls.” Jinsol chides her, then shakily continues as fear takes back over, “whatever...did that, its-its a monster.”
The monster Jinsol speaks of doesn’t scare Sooyoung, it’s the thought of abandonment. The thought of rejection.
“That’s why you should be home Jinsol, I worry, you being out like this.”
Jinsol giggles and finally, Sooyoung doesn’t feel so heavy and suffocated.
“It’s fine. Like you said, it’s probably just some bear.” Jinsol reassures herself more than Sooyoung, “I guess it was starving. You know how they get before winter.”
Sooyoung doesn’t reply, too busy gazing softly at Jinsol’s window. Dark and empty. Sooyoung is even more lonely not being able to hear the steady heartbeat that belongs to the girl next door.
“I’m going to try and get some sleep, you should too.”
“Are you asking or telling me?”
She presses her palm against the window, cool to the touch. If Jinsol was home, she’d be close to smell her. The subtle hints of longing, wanting, as if she’s calling out to her.
Jinsol always smells so fresh.
“Telling you.”
Sooyoung smiles, leans her head onto glass to soothe the pounding.
“Goodnight Jinsol, love you baby.”
“Love you, night.”
She sounds breathless and Sooyoung wishes she could see it too. How Jinsol struggles to breathe when she’s thinking too hard. Sooyoung hopes the thoughts are embarrassing and impulsive. Hopes the thoughts are fixated on her.
Sooyoung hopes it makes Jinsol toss and turn, makes her uncomfortable in the bed she’s failing to sleep in, so much that she misses home.
That she misses her.
“Oh and Sooyoung?”
“Mhm.”
“I miss you too.”
Sooyoung licks her teeth, sharper than she intends them to be. The hand that isn’t crushing her phone twists the pendent of her gold necklace.
“I know.”
Jinsol hangs up then and Sooyoung checks her inbox, her last message to the girl reading the same as Jinsol’s words. The message that made her call. Sooyoung knows Jinsol can’t stand it sometimes, and who can blame her for coaxing her inner desires out into the open?
Sooyoung can’t stand it either. Everything Jinsol feels is the same for her.
After all.
She’s the one who loves Jinsol more than anyone else.