Archive of Our Own

When Bora was five, she fell in love with the sky.

Being the smallest child in her year was rough, even if she compensated for her lack in the vertical department with the power of her tiny fists. So when everyone laughed at her for being so close to the ground, Bora looked up at the sky with longing. It was so far away and yet seemed to be pulling her close. Made her feel understood.

She soon learned that she couldn’t always look at her dear friend. During the day the sun was shining too bright, blinding her, and making thousands of flashy dots appear in front of her eyes. She concluded that the sky needed some time alone without anyone staring at it. That made sense in her mind, if the sky didn’t protect itself, people would keep gawking at its beauty and never get anything done.

The sky always worked in everyone’s best interest.

So Bora always waited late in the afternoon to properly see the sky. Standing on her toes, barely reaching the windowsill, but managing to catch a glimpse of the swirling colors. Vibrant hues of orange and mellow streaks of pink left Bora breathless with her mouth slightly ajar as she took the sight in.

It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see the sky’s full glory. Eventually, the sun hung too low for her to notice even when she jumped. She would never take what she could see for granted. Besides, Bora was going to grow. Get bigger and see the whole picture very soon.

Growing taller suddenly wasn’t a matter of stopping the teasing anymore. She stopped caring about other kids laughing at her size. They weren’t important, not when she had so much to look forward to.

And one thing was sure.

The sky was going to wait for her.

 ***

Little was glamorous about sidewalks.

They stretched for meters, frozen over concrete rivers spilling alongside the black roads. Especially in Winter. Slightly damp following the previous night’s downpour and frosted over in the ruthless cold, covering the gray pavement with a thin layer of ice reflecting the cloud-scattered morning sky. Remnants of the nightly mist lazily lifted towards it alongside puffs of warm air leaving the lips of freezing citizens. Swarms of tired-eyed people making their routine journeys on autopilot. Tucked into layers of warm clothing they roamed the city. They shivered on their way, succumbing to the gray dullness of winter blues.

All except for one.

While most people dragged their feet with heads hanging low and glazed-over eyes bore on the ground, she kept up a steady pace with a bounce and spring to her step, a gentle smile blooming on her face. She fixed the fleece scarf to protect her neck. Admired how the stray rays of sunshine reflected in the mirror of the icy sidewalk. Most people saw it as a tripping hazard. Treacherous and risky. Out to get them. But they also considered the weather too freezing, the wind shrill and piercing through all layers of clothing. Invading their personal space with its frosty probing. Uninviting and hostile. Sucking vibrancy from the already dull world.

Well, most people weren’t Kim Minji. Who, despite donning an all-black attire, managed to remain the brightest entity to grace the frigid streets of Seoul. Pink hair bounced slightly with every step, enjoying the lack of restriction a hair tie would provide during her shift. Carefully tucked away from her face that would be graced with a polite smile directed at each and every customer in the vicinity. Business partners on official dinners, groups of wealthy women with pearls around their necks, and young men in suits, ready to splurge on champagne and king crab. 

But for now, Minji was surrounded by crisp morning air and pale rays of shy sunlight that got caught in her rosy hair and put an additional vigor to her step. Instead of deep ruby wine in crystal glasses, she carried a bottle of cherry-flavored iced tea. It did not go hand in hand with the weather, but she had been craving it for days now. And cravings were meant to be honored in order to keep the soul happy. 

Minji felt a buzzing in her pocket, the phone had already been put on silent in preparation for the busy shift. She reached to retrieve it, putting the pink drink from her left hand into the right one. Smiled at the caller ID.

“Well, hello you,” she answered in a sing-song voice, cheeks rising when one of her favorite people spoke in a rushed stream of sentences.

“Oh my God, thank you, bless the Lord.” Minji could only giggle at the frantic bursts on the other side of the line, “Please, please tell me you’re free tonight.”

Minji scrunched her nose in thought, “My shift ends at four, but I will need to be back at seven. There’s this huge company party and we need all hands on deck,” she sipped on the tea, “Why?”

Siyeon groaned, the sound followed by crinkly static. She was probably shuffling around without paying attention to her friend on the other side. Minji put the phone away from her ear, the sound too grating for her liking.

“You good there, Singnie?” 

“Yeah,” another deep sigh, “You know how I got this cookbook from Yoohyeon for my birthday?” 

Minji chuckled, amused, “Oh, I can imagine where this is going.”

“Mhm, laugh all you want. So funny, haha.” Siyeon muttered, probably trying to appear annoyed but came out sounding like a pouty four-year-old, “I am struggling here! I just wanted to try slow. Make some breakfast. Easy, right? So easy,” she huffed, “Not so much, actually.”

“Oof.”

“The most important meal of the day should be simple to prepare, Minji!”

Laughter bubbled in Minji’s throat before she managed to think of any response. No matter how much Siyeon had grown since they met, the very core of her essence remained as the dorky teenager with the most random thoughts and abstract jokes. And a complete lack of culinary abilities. “So did you end up having any breakfast?” 

“My signature dish came through as always.”

Minji hummed, “Cup ramen?”

“Beef and kimchi, soybean noodles.”

“Classic.”

The memory of countless packages stacked in neat piles in their kitchen cupboard over the counter reappeared vividly in Minji’s mind. Siyeon would buy instant ramen in bulk, having expertise on the matter, and Yubin always organized them by flavor for efficiency. Minji would shake her head. Remind Siyeon of the existence of fresh produce stocked in the fridge.

Now with both of them living alone, she settled for occasional texts with heart emojis and words of support. Siyeon could take care of herself. Minji was there to love her, not order around.

“So I can’t count on you coming to my rescue?” 

Even when sometimes her friend could be the biggest baby on the planet.

“Sorry, honey, you’ll need to find another knight in shining armor,” Minji downed the rest of her drink, letting the tiny leftovers of ice cubes melt on her tongue. She could never make herself bite into them. It would send a draft from her teeth into every nerve in her body. Even watching Handong do it made her cringe.

“I’ll just give up on my dreams of making a proper meal from scratch.”

“Maybe invite Yoohyeon? Seeing she got you the book and all.” 

Just imagining Siyeon’s expression made Minji crack up even before the sentence left her lips. The dam broke when the other side fell silent in what seemed like absolutely unamused judgement. A fit of giggles came spilling from Minji’s lips into the freezing air. Making some pedestrians glance at her in question. Not many people laughed out loud in public. Minji would. 

There were so many things to be happy about. 

“Hilarious,” Siyeon deadpanned and Minji could imagine the blank, unimpressed expression on her face. Missed her terribly, “I will stick to my beloved convenience stores.”

“Wait, why don’t you ask Bora?” 

The line was silent for a beat. “Bora?”

“Yeah!” Minji’s entire self lit up at the mention of her best friend, “She’s great in the kitchen. Bit bossy but to be completely honest, you might need that.”

“Isn’t she busy today?”

“Not that I know of,” the outline of the hotel appeared in her line of vision. She still had a few minutes to spare before she needed to start preparing for her shift, “But you should text her and ask. I’m sure she’d love to help.”

Siyeon scoffed lightly, “She probably has better things to do than babysit a kitchen disaster.”

“Oh come on!” Minji rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “Just ask. She absolutely adores you.”

Another moment passed, perhaps a slight delay in the phone call and then Siyeon spoke again, “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Sounds like you got yourself a date,” Minji joked playfully. She wanted to make Siyeon smile at least once before the call ended and she moved on to leading guests to their tables, “Have fun, you two.”

A shaky exhale on the other side made a triumphant grin appear on her face. There it was, the little chuckle. Absolutely adorable and so very Siyeon.

“Don’t you have work soon?”

“Just got here! I hope your kitchen will survive till Bora arrives.” 

This time Siyeon laughed. A short, joyous chortle. “Have a nice day, Jyu.”

“Right back at you.”

There was a beep signalizing the end of the call. Putting the phone back into her pocket, Minji walked to the glass door underneath the sign with Polaris written in elegant calligraphy. She smiled at the doorman. Wished him a good day and turned left towards the employee entrance. 

She stopped in her tracks. A small, silver coin glistened on the tiled floor. Minji leaned to pick it up but stopped mid-movement. Decided to leave it there. For some other soul to notice and take it, get all the luck stored inside. Minji didn’t need it.

She was already the luckiest.

*** 

When she was almost six, Bora still couldn’t reach the sill. And she was getting impatient.

Summer was coming to an end, and first grade started soon. She was supposed to be a big girl at this point. How could she face the beginning of real school if she couldn’t even properly look at the sky yet? Her teachers said she was too small to understand anything, and they had a point. Bora couldn’t understand why she didn’t get to see the sunset. 

It took another few months.

Everything changed one November day when she was staring at the sky again. It was dark, Autumn nights tended to come quicker than one would have wanted them to. She had to miss recess in order to wait for the sun to descend in the flurry of her favorite colors.

It was worth it. Every single time.

With her stomach rumbling and knuckles white from gripping the windowsill tightly, Bora realized that she wasn’t alone. Someone else stood in the hallway, she could feel them staring at the back of her head. She didn’t stiffen under the gaze; it surprisingly didn’t bother her at all.

“What are you doing?” someone asked. A girl. Her voice was young, friendly, and curious. A stark contrast to what she was used to.

“Looking,” Bora responded, not wanting to be disturbed, “You’re interrupting me.”

“You can look while I’m here though!” the girl argued back. Bora heard her take a step closer. “What are you looking at anyways?”

Bora huffed, annoyed by the interruption. “The sunset,” she said.

“Ooooh! That’s so cool!” the girl beamed.

The enthusiasm took Bora by surprise. None of her peers even paid any attention to the sky, taking it for granted because of whatever was happening on the ground level. And here was this stranger, who seemed genuinely interested.

Bora didn’t know why, but she decided to tear her eyes away from the sky and look at the girl.

She was tall, which made her lose a few points in Bora’s eyes. The girl was roughly her age, with black hair tied up in pigtails and bright eyes sparkling. They reflected the warm glow of the golden sky outside the window.

Bora liked the color.

“Can I join you?” the girl asked with a shy smile, “Maybe we can sit on the windowsill together?”

Normally Bora’s first instinct would be to attack. Her fingers gripped the sill tighter because she immediately considered the offer to be a joke. Another jab at her height. However, the girl was looking at her with nothing but sincerity on her face. The kind of look that hid no ulterior motive behind it. 

“I can’t reach it,” she admits quietly, feeling vulnerable admitting that fact. 

The girl hummed in contemplation before perking up again.

“I’ll help you!” she offered, “I can give you a boost and then sit next to you. If you want to, of course.”

Somehow Bora knew that if she said no, the girl would back off and leave her alone. The stranger gave her a choice. Allowed her to reject the offer.

Bora didn’t.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. Bracing herself for what was to come. She was going to see the sunset! “Let’s do it.”

The girl helped her up before reaching her hand out. Bora stared at it quizzically.

“Can you pull me up?”

“You can reach it though?”

“Well, yeah, but it will be more fun if we help each other.”

Bora couldn’t argue with that logic even if she didn’t understand it in the slightest. But she took the outstretched hand with her own and gripped it tightly.

“Your hands are cold,” she remarked.

“And yours are warm,” the girl smiled at her, “We’re a great match.”

It was such a silly thing to say, but Bora couldn’t help the smile spreading onto her face.

“Look, look!” the girl nudged her shoulder and pointed at the window.

Bora turned her head and felt the air leave her lungs. She stared at the familiar mixture of pastel colors painted across the upper part of the sky, greeting her like old friends. But she could finally also see what was going on closer to the horizon where a glowing red silhouette of the sun was retreating out of reach for the night. 

The fragment of the sky that used to be unavailable to Bora was suddenly right in front of her eyes, shining proudly with its vibrancy and she could only watch in astonishment. See the most beautiful mixture of colors that wouldn’t match one another in any other circumstances.

For the first time in her short life, Bora properly saw the sunset.

“It’s so pretty,” the girl beside her sighed and Bora didn’t even silence her.

She agreed.

“I’m Minji by the way.”

Bora, for reasons unknown, looked away from the sky for a second and returned the smile.

“I’m Bora.”

***

Handong wondered what was wrong with people.

The sheer number of those who had complained about the cold in her vicinity kept increasing seemingly every few minutes and it baffled her to no end. The snow has even melted once already when the temperature rose above zero. Granted, it did tumble back down again, causing the entire city to freeze over with a glassy sheen of ice that resulted in a myriad of issues with commuting through the city. Yes, January certainly had its downsides. Out of everything that could be found bothersome in the world, the natural cycle of meteorological shifts situated itself incredibly low on Handong’s list. 

Especially those days. 

Few would be daring enough to venture outside without being motivated by pressing external factors. The shy slivers of the morning sun were never to reach this side of the city, the sky above Handong’s head painted with muted shades of gray. Gusts of wind tugged at her coat and made her hair swish around while frost gently nipped at her face. Not exactly ideal circumstances to roam the great outdoors, but Handong needed to clear her head and no way proved better over the years than a long walk. 

So she walked. Crossed a few streets and turned left into a nearby park she had been fond of ever since moving to the area. Back then the trees were shrouded in rich emerald green, and the park bustled with the gleeful laughter of neighborhood kids running around. Now there were only dark trunks standing among leafless bushes and muted grass. With the snowcaps gone, the trees appeared naked and exposed to ruthless weather. 

Maybe that’s how other people perceived Handong with her lower thighs exposed by the gap between her coat and tall leather boots she had purchased on a shopping spree with Minji. Even if Handong’s choice of clothing did send a chilly draft up her legs, it had yet to bother her enough to reconsider the outfit. God knew she needed a pick me up and dressing up provided just that.

And she did look good today.

A woman walking her dog came into view, but before Handong could properly acknowledge her, the little fluff ball immediately ran to her, wagging its fuzzy tail. It started pawing at Handong’s boots with excited barks and she just had to crouch down to greet it properly. Cat person or not, Handong was not immune to the charms of an adorable dog.

Truth be told, her experience with dogs could be considered scarce at best. Aside from seeing Pie from time to time, receiving a multitude of pictures of Cherry and occasionally walking Gucci with Tzuyu, Handong’s knowledge about domesticated pets mostly revolved around cats.

“His name is Aperol.”

Only after hearing the warm, sweet voice did Handong finally look up from the dog’s face and glanced at his owner, “Aperol?”

The girl beamed at the sight of Handong’s raised eyebrows and returned the amused smile with ease that reminded Handong of Yoohyeon, “That’s his name, yup.”

“It sure is interesting.”

“He’s one interesting gentleman, believe me.”

Handong’s grin widened, and she scratched Aperol behind his ear. Out of the corner of her right eye, she could see the girl looking at her from behind the golden frames of her circular glasses. Interesting. Interesting indeed.

But before she got to initiate further conversation, Aperol tugged on the leash, making the girl stumble and almost lose her balance completely. Handong placed one hand on the sidewalk to stabilize her crouching position and observed as the beautiful stranger struggled with keeping her puppy under control.

“Someone’s getting antsy to keep going,” the girl laughed, a pleasant-to-hear chuckle that sent a bit of warmth into Handong’s day, “It was nice meeting you!” she added and followed Aperol in his brisk trek through the park. 

Handong trailed behind the little dog with her eyes as it dragged his owner away.

Cockblock

Interesting that random encounters could breathe some, albeit brief, life into an otherwise lackluster morning. Ruffle the static particles of freezing air with a gentle breeze of pleasant anticipation. It would be unwise to push the universe for more blessings, but these tiny slivers of human connection were to be enjoyed when found.

Pretty women and dogs, days don’t really get better than this, Handong thought as she took a turn into the more populated area a few streets away from the park. The warmth of the girl’s smile etched into her memory despite the face itself already blurring around the edges.

She stepped back into the urban part of the city with a twinge of bitterness. Concrete and brick were quite a downgrade from the frosted grass and intricate tree branches, tangled together for warmth in wait for Spring to come. Few lifeforms thrived in the cold. 

Handong was one such outlier.

Even now, she was the sole individual not in any rush. As fellow pedestrians took long strides to complete their journey within a minimal number of steps, Handong sauntered through the icy streets without holding back or trembling in the wind. With no particular destination in mind. Aimless like a snowflake twirling along a current of freezing air.

Winter felt familiar. It has been with her since the day of birth when her parents decided to name their child after the coldest season of the year. The affinity of cold that followed must have been, of course, coincidental but Handong felt a sense of peace that her name aligned with its meaning. She had read in a history textbook once that in Ancient Egypt names acted as integral parts of one’s soul. There was something to it, in her humble opinion.

Or maybe she clung to whatever scraps of identity she could find.

The air turned a bit colder and Handong tugged at her collar, burying her head in the black fabric. It did little, but the sensation provided enough comfort to power through the next few meters before the innate ability to combat cold kicked in again.

That, or it was the sight of a familiar silhouette standing a short distance from her that evoked the warmth from within.

While Handong tended to be haphazard with her outerwear, Yubin’s form was almost completely engulfed in her long coat and a checked scarf. The way she struggled with fishing the keys out of her pocket suggested that she was wearing gloves. Wise choice, considering how cold Yubin’s hands could get at times.

The memory of a girl and her dog started chipping away faster.

“On your way to work?” Yubin’s voice met Handong’s ear like a twinkling melody.

“Just a walk.”

“Bit cold for that,” Handong smiled a little when Yubin took her appearance in and scrunched her forehead, “Clearly not an issue for you though.”

Yubin finally managed to get the key into the main door and unlock the door. With the bag almost sliding off her shoulder, Handong moved closer to push the strap up Yubin’s arm.

“You have a break now?” she inquired, her fingers resting on Yubin’s shoulder briefly.

“Class got canceled, thankfully. If I see this dickhead again, I will turn to violence.”

The laugh that bubbled in Handong’s throat could not have been avoided. She did not expect Yubin of all people to make such a snappy comment in the blink of an eye. There were so many things she had yet to find out about the girl.

“Now that’s something I’d pay to see,” she teased, “You fighting an academic worker.”

“Oh yeah, if I ever get into a brawl with one of my professors, you’ll be the first to know.” 

“Good,” the corners of Handong’s mouth lifted into a teasing grin, “You’re gonna need some muscle to deal with them.”

“You know I was about to invite you upstairs, but now I’m not so sure about that.” Yubin leaned against the doorframe, rubbing her hands together. Clearly getting colder by a second.

Handong smiled, maintaining eye contact with Yubin. 

“Okay, I’ll behave.”

Yubin raised her eyebrows with a ghost of a playful smile of her own, “Sure you will.”

There was something incredibly fascinating about spending time in other people’s apartments. Noticing pieces of their personalities reflected in decor and subtle aesthetic choices. Stacks of books decorating the countertops, framed photographs in the living room, and various paraphernalia held the magical power to project one’s personality into a space. Even the state of potted plants hinted at the residents’ habits and quirks. 

Yubin’s apartment presented a balance of simplicity and homely comfort. While a rented space, it gained character due to its residents’ personal possessions in a harmonious blend of the two young women’s tastes. The baby-blue blanket clearly belonged to Yoohyeon, but Handong could see Yubin’s hand in the careful way it was folded and placed on the couch.

She placed her coat on the hanger and smoothed the wrinkles on her shirt. Static from the outerwear caused her hair to stick to the fabric and a tingle to run down her fingers. Looking around the room, Handong caught Yubin’s eye when the latter stood by the kitchen counter. 

“You okay?”

“You really don’t mind the cold, huh?” Yubin’s eyebrows almost reached her forehead when she cast a sweeping glance over Handong’s body. Without eyes lingering at any area and her hands stuck into pockets of an enormous sweater.

Handong grinned at the multitude of layers covering the girl, “Can’t say the same about you, I’m afraid.”

Yubin rubbed one hand with another and flexed her fingers, clearly stiff from the cold outside, “Some of us are not built that way,” she put a strand of hair behind her ear and reached up towards a cupboard, “Tea?”

“Only if you make it iced.”

A visible shiver ran through Yubin’s body and Handong felt a foreign force tug at her to move a few steps forward and hug her from behind. “Freak.”

“Weakling.”

She could see a smile blossom on Yubin’s face as the younger woman placed a variety of containers onto the countertop. Handong moved further into the room to lean against the wall next to it and observed with fascination, “Didn’t peg you for that much of a tea person?” 

“But you did think I was a tea person?”

“You’re the only one who can tell Minji’s herbarium apart. That gave me a hint.”

“It’s actually what we bonded over when I first moved in.” Yubin stretched to reach the highest shelf, making her sweater ride up and reveal a stretch of skin that Handong once again yearned to touch. With no further intentions. Just place her palm on Yubin’s stomach and feel the warmth of her body under her fingertips. 

Yeah, the feeling blooming in her chest unmistakable now. 

Well, it was a matter of time. 

“Any preference?” Yubin asked when she put a tall glass next to a floral-patterned mug, “I have green, oolong, earl gray,” she shuffled through the packets sprawled on the counter, “There might be some leftover matcha in there somewhere.” 

Handong looked at the variety of ingredients with utmost curiosity. It was not a common occurrence for college students to possess such a collection of tea leaves, dried fruit, and spices in their apartment, “You clearly know more about that stuff,” she pointed out, motioning to the counter with her chin, “Surprise me.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Yubin rolled the sleeves of her sweater up and turned to the fridge as if she had a sudden revelation, “It’s your lucky day. I have some earl gray already chilled.” 

She took the pitcher out and crouched to open the freezer and retrieve ice cubes. Handong followed the girl with her eyes, taking note of the swiftness of Yubin’s movement. How she balanced a pitcher full of tea and an ice tray without a hitch. The way she measured dried orange peel and crushed it in a mortar with freeze-dried strawberries before moving them into an infuser. 

“You really know your tea, huh?” Handong inquired, impressed. 

Yubin looked up from the kettle she just put on, “Yeah, I used to work at a tea shop. Learned a lot.”

Handong tilted her head, “That’s quite a career change if you ask me.”

“Same crowd, just different times of the day.” Yubin shrugged as she poured a bit of boiling water into the pot, “The customers just changed from sleep-deprived to drunk.” She transferred some of the aromatic infusion into the ice-filled glass and filled it to the brim with chilled tea. Then she added leaves from a different container into the infuser and refilled the pot, “How about you? Somnia must be swarmed these days.”

“Oh, don’t get me started,” Handong rolled her eyes and took the glass Yubin handed her. She smiled in appreciation and took a sip, “Okay, I’m never getting tea anywhere else,” she marveled and went to drink more.

Yubin hummed, “So you’ll just hang around my place all the time, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“I can live with that,” her eyes glinted as she raised the mug to her lips. They looked at each other for a second, brown meeting amber and soft silence enveloping them alongside the warm scent of citrus and bergamot, “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Right,” Handong trailed behind Yubin as the latter moved to the kitchen table and took a seat, “With exams coming up, the place gets so busy. Recently, a guy pleaded with Bora to fill his cup with espresso shots. A whole cup. Of espresso shots.” she saw Yubin cringe and chuckled at her reaction, “Other than that, people just kind of sit around and study, so at least it’s quiet. But then again, it often takes hours for some to leave and we’re not exactly going to kick exhausted students into the cold.”

Yubin nodded, “Do they at least keep ordering?”

“Yeah, thankfully. I think they really appreciate that nobody kicks them out despite hogging the tables,” Handong took a bigger sip and caught an ice cube in her mouth, clasping her teeth on it. Yubin gaped at her. Raised her eyebrows but remained silent as she motioned for Handong to continue, “It’s nice to see their shoulders relax a bit.”

“Yootony said it’s her favorite study place.”

“Oh yeah, she has been coming over a lot this year,” Handong’s warm smile gained a teasing edge, “Especially since she found her new study buddy.”

Yubin’s eyes glimmered as she put her hands around the warm cup. She looked incredibly cozy and Handong felt the warmth fill her as well, “I’ve heard something about that, yes.”

“It’s my main source of entertainment these days.”

“Imagine how it gets when she comes back home and raves about it.” 

Handong smiled, “Maybe I really should come over more often.”

“Definitely.”

As the tea steadily disappeared from the mugs, Handong felt herself settle into the apartment’s atmosphere and Yubin’s comforting presence. Soon she found herself talking about Christmas at her parents’ house and how lovely it was to see her friend after such a long period of absence.

“I don’t get to come back often,” she mused, fingers drumming against the glass as her mind traveled through the crisp Winter air across the ocean before it reached Wuhan and the illuminated windows of her family home.

“It must be difficult.”

“That’s not the hard part,” Handong mumbled into the glass. Without much thought behind it. Casually throwing a glimpse into the convoluted mass of doubts and musings that had occupied the majority of her brain ever since she came back. Earlier even. For a year now. 

Yubin did not press for more. Did not try to turn the statement into a further conversation. Just sat there in her sweater, eyes focused on Handong with undivided attention. Present. Supportive. 

And Handong thought that maybe, maybe elaborating was an option. After all, they had all the time in the world for the next hour or so.

“My parents worry a lot,” she started, “About me being in a foreign country, away from home, away from them. Not that they doubt I can handle myself, that was never an issue,” Handong smiled a bit to herself, “But they’ve also been growing more and more concerned about my “future” as they put it.”

Future. The vague word encapsulating the consequences of Handong’s choices and their potential shortcomings. No matter how well she fended for herself, having a full-time job and a stable living situation, the unconventional aspect of her path would always arise doubts. And she understood, for the most part at least. 

She just wished they could also understand her.

“You’ve mentioned your dad was skeptical about you moving here, right?” Yubin was referring to one of the first get-togethers at Minji’s previous apartment. When Handong sipped on rosé wine and talked about college with Yubin, a freshman at the time. She remembered the attentiveness in Yubin’s eyes, the same one she saw now as the younger girl recalled a brief mention Handong herself barely remembered until that moment. 

“He thought it’s irrational to travel all this way when there was a good musical theatre program in China. It got better after he saw all the progress it helped me make and how quickly I became accustomed to Korea,” Handong sighed, “And then he went to square one last year.” 

“Because you left college?” 

Handong nodded, “It just wasn’t working for me anymore, you know? I liked the vocal lessons, the practical aspect of it all but sitting in another lecture on the history of opera felt a bit pointless. And then I talked to Minji, and she encouraged me to not bother with things that were not working in my favor.”

Yubin was nodding along and Handong noticed that the atmosphere remained as light as ever. And so did her head. Clear for the first time in a while.

“So here I am, working at the most popular coffee shop in the uni area and having no prospect for a college degree,” Handong joked, munching on her semi-final ice cube.

“Do you mind?” Yubin prompted. Genuinely curious but not enough to force the answer out. 

Handong didn’t need to think of an answer, it came to her quite easily. “Not really, actually. It wasn’t the right path,” she stopped for a while, “But living with a prodigy does make it harder at times, you know?

“I can only imagine.”

“Not much experience in the intellectual roommate department, huh?”

“Ah yes, the player, the fire hazard, and two left feet,” Yubin remarked dryly.

Handong laughed. She loved her friends but had to admit they could be the goofiest bunch when given the chance, “That makes you the genius?”

“Nah, that makes me the only one capable of making dinner.” 

And that did it. Made the last ounce of invisible weight fall from Handong’s soul and let it soar alongside the warm sound of Yubin’s gentle laughter. That silly, ironic remark coming from a young woman that made her way into Handong’s heart with her aromatic tea, wise words, and calm demeanor. 

“Can relate, that’s also my job,” Handong smiled fondly at the memory of Gahyeon’s failed attempts at preparing noodles the other day, “I mean, I can make like two dishes but they slap.”

“Fair enough, I can make some but they’re only decent,”

“You’re the beverage expert, leave some for the rest of us.” 

Yubin beamed at her with sparkles in big brown eyes.

The mugs got emptied, the sun moved lower in the sky and the numbers on the clock changed as the two women basked in the glow of each other’s company. However, with the passage of time came the responsibilities that sooner or later had to force both of them back outside and in different directions. 

“Are you closing today?” 

Handong nodded her head as she reached to help Yubin tie the red scarf around her neck, “Yeah, up until eight. Hopefully, it will clear up by then, so it’s not so busy,” she put her own coat on, “What about you? Any plans for the evening?”

“Not really. Just class and then me and my book,” Yubin turned the key and let Handong inside. They moved through the staircase, arms touching and steps in sync. Before they knew it, the cold air filled the already minimal space between them and Handong immediately missed the cozy apartment.

They had to separate by the bus stop as Yubin had twenty minutes to get to class and Handong decided to utilize her leftover time for a longer walk. But before they went their own ways, Handong decided that their time together did not have to end for the day.

“Hey, why don’t you come by my place in the evening?” she said, smiling softly at the other woman, “I mean, if you don’t mind waiting till the end of my shift.”

Yubin returned her smile, “Not at all.”

“What do you say, then? Wanna come over?”

“I would love to.”

The bus was visible in the distance, waiting at a red light when Handong realized that she should have made her intentions clearer. At that point, she had no doubt about her feelings for Yubin. Why prolong it? Especially when Yubin looked at her with such affection and was all but snuggled against Handong’s side to protect herself from the cold.

“By the way, I meant that invitation to be a date,” she said. 

Yubin looked up at her and smiled, “Good, I hoped so.”

***

Over the years Minji had not only joined the daily observation of the sun but became a permanent fixture of Bora’s life. In addition to helping her up onto the windowsill, Minji also lifted Bora’s spirits whenever she needed it.

Soon Bora grew enough to see the sunset without assistance.

So Minji did not need to tag along and yet she stayed.

And Bora wanted her there. Wanted it so much.

“I'm thinking about joining the theater club,” Minji said once.

Bora couldn’t say she was surprised. The theater was the crown jewel of their school’s achievements. Recruiting only the most talented students. Best of the best.

Minji was nothing but the best.

“Sounds cool,” Bora replied, knowing what will happen next and yet still surprised when she heard the question.

“Wanna join with me?” Minji asked with sparkling eyes, lightly tapping Bora’s arm with her finger.

Bora scoffed lightly, “As if they let me.” She said, “I can’t stand most of those dweebs.”

“Oh come on! You’re a fast learner, you’re artistic and definitely dramatic enough to secure a spot.”

“You know what, go join them yourself!” Bora rolled her eyes and smacked her friend on the arm, a traitorous smile creeping into her lips.

Minji laughed. A short, unrestricted laugh. A chortle really. One of those let out for nobody’s benefit but her own. “I sure will. With you. Together.”

Together.

That’s how they always did things. Ever since that fateful evening.

And then, at the age of eleven, Bora still somehow couldn't bring herself to say no to Minji. 

Even though she’s aware that trying out means stepping out of her comfort zone and into the spotlight. Making a fool out of herself in front of the entire school. Having to read up on some incredibly boring playwrights.

None of it mattered at that moment though.

“Fine.”

Minji’s smile was brighter than the sun on that day and Bora really should have paid more attention to that fact.

Maybe she could have prevented herself from falling.

Or maybe she never wanted to.

***

“So how does that work?”

Yoohyeon looked up from her notebook, brushing her bangs away. They desperately needed to be cut soon before completely covering her eyes. She needed vision, thank you very much. Especially when sitting face to face with a beautiful girl, who had just asked her a question.

“How does what work?”

Gahyeon pointed her pen to Yoohyeon’s notebook, touching the passage about the symbolism of the patterned coffin in Moby Dick , “Literary analysis and stuff. Do you just read the books and then take it sentence by sentence or like, summarize the most important parts and call it a day?”

“Well, that depends on the student. I doubt anyone actually gets hung up on every word but” she stopped and narrowed her eyes, “Are you making fun of me?”

“Not yet.” Gahyeon’s eyes twinkled with mischief, “But are you one of those who micro-analyses every word?”

“What if I am?”

“Then I will proceed to make fun of you.”

Yoohyeon huffed and rolled their eyes but couldn't stop the smile from appearing on their face. Didn't try to. Their lips had gotten way too used to moving their corners upwards like sprouting seedlings whenever in the company of people they cared about. And Yoohyeon did care about Gahyeon. Very much so. More with every little comment, every time Gahyeon's cheeks puffed, and lips pursed when she stumbled upon a particularly challenging equation.

"You need to start from the bigger picture and then move on to focus on the details," Yoohyeon twirled her favorite pen as she explained. Saw Gahyeon glance up from the notebook, “There are some overarching themes that make the message of a work, and then there are more specific motifs or symbols that convey the meaning in a more visualized way.”

Being asked about her field brought Yoohyeon a sense of stability in the conversation. Grounded her. Reduced the potential of saying something out of place or plain stupid. Still, there needed to be a balance when talking about literature. Yoohyeon was more used to people not sharing her burning passion for literary concepts and conventions.  She recognized the way others' eyes glazed over the second she began elaborating on the intricacies of Southern Gothic, how her conversation partners immediately scrambled to find a distraction that could protect them from her rambling. Understandable, really. It made Yoohyeon find the line between anecdotal statements and full-blown tangents. 

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“You don’t seem so sure,” Yoohyeon joked. Lightheartedly. They knew that despite a deep appreciation for art, immense love for music, and impressive attention to detail, Gahyeon was a pragmatist first and foremost.

“No, I guess I just never saw much sense in it,” Gahyeon shrugged, the tip of her pen clicking lightly against her empty latte glass. Gingerbread latte, to be precise. Gahyeon was past her attempts to tackle iced-americanos. Decided that black coffee enthusiasts must have been a separate breed of people.

“Never saw sense in what? Literature?” 

As much as Yoohyeon appreciated other points of view, that one bordered on the extreme. Definitely, one of the boldest takes they had ever heard.

“No, I respect that one,” Gahyeon assured, “I meant the whole debate whether authors meant what we think they meant,” she tapped her pen against Yoohyeon’s notebook again, “Like this fragment. What is it about?” Gahyeon tried rotating her head to see, so Yoohyeon simply turned the notebook around.

“I described the possible interpretations of Queequeg’s coffin,” they explained, pointing to the relevant lines, “See, it was covered in patterns mimicking his tattoos and, in the end, acted as a flotation device for the main character.”

“And what does that signify?”

Yoohyeon took a pencil and moved her chair closer towards Gahyeon, their heads leaning over the notebook together, “He didn’t even get to be buried in it.”

“Wait, so he didn’t die?”

“Well, he did, but not the way he thought he would,” Yoohyeon looked up at Gahyeon and saw her furrowed eyebrows, “Okay, so Queequeg,”

“First of all,” Gahyeon interrupted, moving a strand of silver hair from her face, “Sounds like a fake name.”

Yoohyeon laughed, “He’s a South Pacific Islander.”

“Which island?” 

“Do you know any South Pacific Islands?

Gahyeon grabbed her phone from where it was lying screen down on the table, “No, but now I wanna know,” she tapped at the screen, “Keep going.”

Something Yoohyeon deeply appreciated about Gahyeon was the pursuit of knowledge. The need to learn as much as she could on any given topic. Granted, usually it served the purpose of winning a potential discussion somewhere in the future, but Yoohyeon genuinely appreciated the commitment to being right. Not only correct but with sufficient evidence to back up one’s claim. 

Plus, the girl Yoohyeon had a massive crush on was not only willing to listen patiently as she explained the details regarding her curriculum but also incredibly diligent in grasping the subject. Gahyeon never looked for an immediate opportunity to change the topic. Hell, she even asked questions. Inquired about the matter and awoke a swarm of butterflies in Yoohyeon's stomach every time.

So after familiarizing herself with the ideas Yoohyeon conveyed to her, she challenged them. Presented arguments to counter each and every one. Skeptically approaching the geniuses of modern literature and their works.

“So Queequeg falls ill. Severe case of fever, it’s basically certain that he will not make it, so asks a carpenter to make him a coffin. Because he refuses to be buried in some random casket among foreigners.”

“Fair enough.”

Yoohyeon caught Handong’s eye as the latter entered the coffee shop, already taking the coat off and heading towards the back. When she saw the close proximity of her two friends, Handong sent Yoohyeon the most flustering, self-satisfied smirk ever. 

Fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at her, Yoohyeon turned their head back to Gahyeon.

“But then he bounces back, so the coffin is useless. At least that’s how it seems because later it serves as a buoy for others as the ship goes down.”

Gahyeon nodded along, “And what is that supposed to represent?”

“Well, for example, the fact that Queequeg and the protagonist become best friends over the course of the novel, and in the end, it is the coffin with his tattoos carved into the surface that saves Ishmael’s life. It's like a vessel of all the love between them."

"So they're gay?"

"It's one of the interpretations, yeah."

Gahyeon turned her phone screen towards her, "It's a fake island," she informed, "Made up by Melville for the sake of this book."

Yoohyeon made an appropriate note under the About the author section of her notes. That little tidbit could score her a point on the finals. 

When she looked back up, after brushing those damn bangs away from her forehead, Gahyeon was looking out the window, fingers drumming absentmindedly against her notebook.

“I can’t wait for days to get longer again,” she sighed.

“Not a fan of Winter?”

“Not a fan of leaving the house when it’s dark and returning when it’s even darker.”

Yoohyeon smiled, “You seem to like seasonal coffee though.”

“Dong can make it for me whenever,” Gahyeon grumbled, “Plus, I’d rather drink it black if it brought the sun back.”

“Would you though?”

A beat of silence. Gahyeon’s squinted eyes and a contemplative pout.

“Hell no.”

True to her word, Gahyeon ordered another sweet concoction of a drink during their second coffee round. Toffee and hazelnut with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Meanwhile, Yoohyeon decided to go for an iced americano, to the absolute repulsion of her companion. 

What could she say, she grew rather fond of them.

“You know what’s something I actually like about the days being shorter?” Yoohyeon inquired.

“Is there anything to like?” 

“I actually get to see the sunrise.”

Gahyeon gaped at them skeptically, “And that makes up for the endless nights and cold ass days?”

“No, it’s just something I like,” Yoohyeon shrugged and stirred the drink with a straw. Icecubes clinked against the glass with the movement, “It hits different when you roll out onto the streets and the sky is all kinds of colors.”

“Yeah, I’d rather sleep.”

Yoohyeon exhaled through her nose as she couldn’t laugh without choking on the coffee. There was something so refreshing about Gahyeon’s way of thinking. So vastly different from Yoohyeons, yet somehow complimentary in a way that Yoohyeon had rarely experienced. Not like the quiet understanding, she shared with Yubin. No, they were puzzle pieces, clicking together to complete a picture. Her connection with Gahyeon, one they built over those months of study sessions and coffee at Somnia reminded her more of the way two hands fit in each other. Fingers interlocking and filling the empty spaces.

To hold Lee Gahyeon’s hand, one could simply dream.

There were moments in which Yoohyeon considered asking Gahyeon out. Tell her about how her company made them feel. How interested Yoohyeon was to know her better, to learn in-depth about how her mind worked and heart operated. Hear all types of her laugh, feel the pressure on Gahyeon’s head on her shoulder. 

"You know, I once read that some people are like day and night," Gahyeon continued the subject, "My friend found it in some book and proceeded to launch our entire group chat into a discussion. They would pick apart every personality trait, every little factor that could help them identify which one suited them better," she tsked at the memory, "Moral of the story was that I learned I suck at symbolism and associations."

Yoohyeon laughed at the deadpan tone. They certainly could imagine a younger version of Gahyeon reading the chain of messages with a quizzical expression. The one with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.

"See, that's where they went wrong about it, though," Yoohyeon said, "Those categories are way too broad to associate oneself with."

Gahyeon shrugged, "They are times of the day, nothing to associate with anyway."

"No, but picture this," Yoohyeon herself didn't know where she was going with it but refused to pass up an opportunity to engage in a creative process with the girl she adored, "What about the twilight?"

"Bad book, what about it?"

Yoohyeon groaned, "Not the Twilight saga, dumbass," she said, earning an elbow to the ribs, "The time of the day."

"Which one?"

"What do you mean which one?"

This time it was Gahyeon who was a second away from calling her slow, "The sunrise or sunset one?"

Yoohyeon felt like they were losing neurons with every second of this exchange. They might have looked like it too because Gahyeon rolled her eyes at them.

"Dawn or dusk?

"Twilight."

"They're both twilight!"

Several customers turned their heads, startled by the volume of Gahyeon's voice. Neither girl noticed, too busy conducting a fact check on what twilight actually was. Aside from a spectacularly poor piece of literature.

Gahyeon was proven correct. Both dusk and dawn could be referred to as twilight, which meant Yoohyeon learned something new that day and Gahyeon got to gloat.

They also learned that dusk and dawn only took place when the sun had yet to appear or had already completed its descent below the horizon. Plus, both Yoohyeon and Gahyeon agreed that moonrise and sunset were not the same phenomena, just like sunrise and moonset. However, what they did not agree on was the reason behind that important distinction.

"Science says so," Gahyeon insisted. 

“Yeah, but the vibes are more important here,” Yoohyeon argued, determined to drive her point across.

“It’s literally about the celestial bodies moving across the sky!”

“But also, it’s about what makes someone a Sunrise instead of a Moonset.”

Gahyeon stared at her with a pout. Absolutely adorable. She huffed in exasperation, “Okay, so what does make a person more of a Sunrise than a Moonset?”

The corner of Yoohyeon’s lips twitched. She couldn’t help what she was about to say, “The vibes.”

If looks could kill, she would already be six feet under. But thankfully Gahyeon’s glare could not send her to the realm of the dead. However, her grumbling did pose a severe threat to Yoohyeon’s heart. 

“Okay, no, but for real,” Yoohyeon smiled and rubbed their arm as Gahyeon smacked it, “When you hear “dusk” who do you think about?”

“I think about dusk.” 

So it seemed like Yoohyeon would have to be the one carrying the conversation for at least a while before Gahyeon warmed up the right half of her brain and stepped into the vast world of the abstract, “I’d say Yubin is the dawn.”

“Why?” 

“Why not?”

Gahyeon stared.

Yoohyeon stared back.

“You know what, yeah. I hate that it actually makes sense.”

It was difficult not to beam. Bask in the fact that, little by little, they managed to introduce an inquiring spirit of a poet into Gahyeon’s mind. Despite the whole endeavor probably being just as much of a waste of time as Gahyeon claimed, the process of discussing something unrelated to one’s pressing matters could prove to be incredibly liberating. 

Plus, every moment Yoohyeon got to spend getting to know Gahyeon’s outlook on life, the intricacies of how tremendously different it was from their own. All the pathways it opened, the amount of energy transferred between them, the things they could learn from each other. 

And it all started with a spilled coffee.

“I’d say Bora is the Sunset,” Yoohyeon said, “You know, vibrant and bold.” 

 “Okay, I can see that. Plus, sunsets demand your attention, you know? And they have all these different shades, colors overlapping.

“And that’s how you see Bora?”

“It just feels like there’s so much I don’t know about her if that makes sense,” Gahyeon reached behind to tighten her ponytail, the light reflecting in her silver necklace, “Even though I’ve spent a lot of time with her.”

Yoohyeon nodded, “Oh, I think I get what you mean. Like Bora is so expressive and loud, so you’d suppose she’s an open book.”

“Exactly!” Gahyeon’s eyes sparkled and Yoohyeon almost swooned, “I think I know her fairly well but there’s still so much more.”

“Yeah, she’s not the most transparent.” An understatement of the century. Yoohyeon needed a while to get accustomed to Bora’s tendency to share a lot of stories about other people instead of herself. There were so many tales from Minji and Bora’s shared childhood that Yoohyeon heard about before she received any details about Bora’s favorite color, “But she doesn’t pretend to be someone else. Sometimes you just need to sort through all the words to find the essence.”

Gahyeon licked the whipped cream from her spoon, “You know who’s pretty transparent though? Yubin.”

“Really?” Yoohyeon raised her eyebrows, “Most people would say otherwise.”

“Oh? Would you?”

Yoohyeon did take a few seconds to consider her response, “No, not at all. I think it’s because she’s a person of few words, so she can seem a bit unapproachable,” she paused, “I don’t know, she actually went up to me first, so I can’t relate to any of that.”

“That sounds like a cool story,” Gahyeon put a strand of silver hair behind her ear, “And I definitely wanna hear it after you tell me why she’s Dawn.”

“It’s the most peaceful time of the day. Most of the world is still asleep aside from birds chirping, which actually fits so well cause Dami is great at impersonating those,” Yoohyeon could feel the heat creeping up her neck when Gahyeon propped her chin on her hand and smiled gently, “The night has already ended but it also kind of feels like the last moments of tranquility before the day begins. Just very soft.”

“Then I’d say Dongie is Dusk.”

Yoohyeon’s cheeks were beginning to hurt from all the smiling, “Wanna elaborate?”

“Well, it’s what you said for Yubin but in reverse, if that makes sense,” Gahyeon explained, “Soft and peaceful but with a bit more edge I guess. It’s not night yet but the anticipation for what the evening might bring is there.”

As if on cue, Handong walked past their table to bring another customer their order. Yoohyeon looked at the way she sauntered across the room, tall leather boots and a deep purple crop top visible from underneath the black apron. She had tied her striking hair in a high ponytail, accentuating her cheekbones.

Yeah, Dusk was pretty accurate.

“Also, I think Siyeon is the Moonrise,” Gahyeon spoke up after a moment of consideration.

“Oh?” Yoohyeon’s eyebrows rose to her bangs and she blew at them, mildly irritated, “And why is that?”

Gahyeon looked them right in the eyes with a dazzling smile. One that made Yoohyeon’s entire vision sway.

“Why not?”

This little….

“Fair enough,” Yoohyeon nodded, “Well played.”

Gahyeon stood up to order a piece of cake to go with her coffee and Yoohyeon trailed behind her with their eyes. Couldn’t wait to continue the pointless yet profound conversation. Especially since Gahyeon seemed to be getting the hang of it quite quickly.

Because yes, Siyeon definitely was the Moonrise.

***

Bora reached the point of no return after two years.

They made the group, becoming the proudest addition to the middle school squad theatre. Their director even told Minji that she could secure a spot in any high school drama club when the time would come if she tried hard enough.

The invitation wasn’t extended to Bora, it never was. So she decided that it didn’t matter. She didn’t care about what the teachers had to say, refusing to let their indifference get to her.

Even though she did care, and they hurt.

They always hurt.

At thirteen Bora was tired and bitter.

She was also scared but refused to show it to anyone.

There was only one safe haven for Bora to seek comfort in when the world got too much for her to handle. Maybe she should have hated Minji for all the attention and acclaim she received. A part of her did, the angry, insecure, and envious corner of Bora’s mind harbored a grudge against her best friend.

The rest considered her the best thing that ever happened to Bora.

“I wanna show you something,” Minji said when they were in the middle of solving math equations in her room. They always spent their time there, among the enormous plushie collection and pink blankets. Away from school, away from the ground, with windows facing to the West.

Perfect to see the sunset.

However, the weather that afternoon was particularly bad. Heavy clouds hung lowly, traveling lazily across the gray sky. There was no way they could watch the sunset. Not that it hadn’t happened before, of course, it had. And it dampened Bora’s mood every time.

“What is it?” she asked Minji, grumpy because of math, because of the weather, and also for no reason at all.

Minji remained unfazed by her mood, she always dealt with it without a hitch.

“Maybe we can get up earlier tomorrow?”

Bora eyed her suspiciously. “How early?”

“Six?”

“Pass.”

“Oh come on!” Minji whined, trying to catch Bora’s eye. However, the other girl had her gaze focused on the book.

Not that she cared about the equations, they could go to hell as far as she was concerned. But Bora knew she was going to give in as soon as her eyes met Minji’s.

Minji knew that too.

Bora refused to look up.

Minji waited.

“Fine.”

***

Kim Bora has never been someone struggling with voicing her opinions.

Whether it was during class discussions, engaging in elaborate compliment battles with her friends, or going on a tangent about whatever she was currently passionate about, Bora possessed the ability to produce a flurry of words on a whim.

However, she was also capable of silence. Sitting quietly for prolonged periods of time that did not require any words. Precious, meaningful moments spent in the company of Bora’s loved ones or even in the comfortable seclusion of her own apartment. Although truth be told, Bora had spent enough years living in solitude. While appreciated at times, it could get lonely. Too quiet. A figment of space even she was unable to fill up with her voice and exuberant sense of self.

Thankfully, there still existed moments that did not require any effort to be fulfilling. People, who carried light and affection within themselves. Illuminating every room with their presence only, not a blinding beam but rather a soft, muted glow. Like the last whisper of the setting sun, golden speckles sprinkled across violet clouds steadily fading into a dark blue sky. Tethering the edge between stray sun rays and a silver sheen of starlight. A promise of another peaceful night. Time to rest and recharge. Lulling every tired pair of eyes to sleep with a feathery kiss of the moon. 

“You like the sky a lot”

Bora tore her gaze away from the window and looked up toward the source of the voice. Half of the deep purple hair tied into a ponytail and the rest marking contrasting streaks against the white shirt. A soft smile and the warm sparkle of fairy lights reflected in dark brown eyes. 

“You could say so, yeah,” she replied, following Siyeon with her eyes as the younger woman checked on the stewed vegetables simmering on the stove. Mittens on her hands and utmost concentration on the sharp features. Her cheeks slightly puffed out. 

“Thank you so much for coming. This might actually turn out great.”

Bora shifted on the armchair, “Well, obviously. I do not disappoint in the kitchen.”

“Yes, that’s my job,” Siyeon said, stirring the dish, “But maybe there’s some hope for me. Or I’ll just call you whenever I need to complete a simple task.” 

“Oh, that’s why you’d like to keep me around, huh?” Bora raised her eyebrows, her voice light, and teasing, “Unbelievable.”

She considered throwing a pillow in Siyeon’s direction but decided against it as long as the woman stood close to the source of heat. But definitely filed the attack for later. 

“Please, anyone would be lucky to have you over at any given moment.”

There it was. The slowly setting silence enveloped both of them in the nearly tangible bubble. Preventing any external worries from interfering with the sense of security that stemmed from mutual trust. Love. The feeling nestled in the vulnerable core of one’s soul. Deepest affection reserved for the few chosen ones. Those who painted the sky with the most stunning of colors.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” 

“Only when I try.”

Bora snorted, “Yeah, right.”

No matter how much all of them joked about Siyeon’s goofy behavior and her tendency to zone out in the middle of any conversation, there was no use in denying the effect she had on people. Women all but threw themselves at her, kept at bay only due to her striking eyes rooting them in place. The magnetic intensity with which Siyeon looked at the world, emphasized by a black liner. Granted, she didn’t wear it nearly as often as in her early college days. But when she did… the impression left no survivors. 

“Okay, it’s looking very promising,” Siyeon giggled to herself after turning the stove on, clearly excited at the prospect of finally cooking a proper dish. 

Dark and sultry magnetism aside, a dork was a dork. And Bora would be the biggest liar on the planet if she said she didn’t prefer this Siyeon over any other. No matter what her admirers would say. What did they know anyway? 

“Ready to try it?” Bora could only nod at Siyeon’s offer, standing up to get the plates. Crouching to open the bottom drawer, she took two light-gray ones and straightened back up to put them on the counter, “Wow, that was fast.”

Bora put the plates down next to the pan and opened the drawer to get two sets of chopsticks, “I’ve worked hard on that! We gonna try it now.”

“So maybe you take care of that, and I will get us some wine?” 

“Sounds good.”

They worked in silence, passing each other in the kitchen without a word. Sending small smiles and fleeting glances as they finalized the dinner preparation. Bora transferred portions of fried rice and aromatic beef sauteed with vegetables onto the plates while Siyeon took a bottle of red wine from a shelf. 

“Yubin got me those pretty glasses some time ago,” Siyeon said and opened another cupboard. She took two wide-rimmed glasses and carefully placed them next to the bottle. 

True to her words, they were beautiful, crystal-clear with an opalescent sheen that twinkled with a multitude of colorful streaks. Bora tilted her head to see them from a different angle and admire the effect. 

“Damn, she knows this stuff,” 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Siyeon fiddled with a corkscrew as she spoke, Bora’s eyes trailing the movement of her fingers, “She came over once and gave me a lecture on the importance of Bordeaux glasses and champagne flutes.”

“Well, those are very different.”

“Yeah, Minji already gave me the follow-up lecture,” Siyeon shook her head and turned the bottle, so that the label was facing Bora, “And thanks to her, we get to enjoy this excellent bottle of Pinot Noir with its,” she squinted and angled her head to read from the label, “sophisticated profile and a sublime touch of cranberries.”

The corner of Bora’s lips twitched, “Whatever that means.”

“No idea, sounds good though.”

Siyeon pinned the corkscrew to her side using her elbow, took both glasses in one hand, and grabbed the bottle with the other. She walked towards the living room and placed everything on the table. Bora looked after her and then immediately remembered about the plates and rushed to set them next to the glasses. 

They had every right to be proud. Somehow Bora managed to guide Siyeon through the meanders of culinary arts and their joint efforts culminated in a truly impressive dish. At least according to the standard one could reach when working with ingredients from a college student’s fridge. Still, the food was great. Amazing, even. 

With both of them going for seconds, the pan got emptied in no time, time flying between marveling over their work, laughing at each other’s jokes, and sipping on the wine that tasted as fancy as it sounded. God bless friends working in prestigious hotel restaurants. 

Bora helped Siyeon move the plates into the kitchen sink and the two of them moved to the living room, each holding her glass and Bora additionally carrying the half-empty bottle. They settled onto the couch, the room dim aside from the strings of fairy lights stretched on the windowsill and along the back of the couch. As if Siyeon invited the night sky into her living room, the stars themselves keeping the two women company.

“We should do this more often,” Siyeon stated, head leaning against her hand settled on the back of the couch. Her right hand gently moved the wine glass in circles, causing the ruby liquid to swirl. It looked almost black in the soft glow, much like Siyeon’s eyes. Glistening in a way that put the twinkling lights to shame.

“Yeah,” Bora said, voice hushed. Eyes focused on the way Siyeon’s hair cascaded down her shoulders, their purple shade only visible when illuminated by the tiny bulbs. In her peripheral vision, she could see that Siyeon was looking at her as well. Not saying anything. Gaze focused but gentle. Relaxed. 

Siyeon pushed herself away from the couch to lean towards the coffee table. Put her glass next to Bora’s empty one. When she returned to her spot, Bora shifted. Very aware of the space between them. Or maybe the lack of it. They were not touching, Siyeon’s bent knee settled a few inches away from Bora’s thigh. 

Like the blazing glory of the sun, Bora rarely shied away from anything. Quite the opposite, she took whatever life tossed at her in stride, head high and heart open. No hesitation, no stepping back, no turning around from whatever awaited on the other side.

But it was Siyeon, who locked their gazes, and Bora, who remained silent. Pinned down by the gravity of Siyeon’s eyes. Ones she had looked in so many times before, brown and inviting, promising to give warmth without burning those, who dared to come closer. How many times exactly has Bora been tempted to take a step closer, take another look? Deeper. Peer into the darkness reminding her of the most peaceful of nights. Those that listened to hushed whispers of the restless. Accepted confessions from the lost. 

One of them moved closer. Was it Siyeon again? Possibly. But at that point, Bora couldn’t picture a reality where they were any further apart. Not mere centimeters away. Unable to see the lights creating new galaxies in Siyeon’s eyes. All that time she had been staring at the sky when she could have been holding her in her arms.

Siyeon placed one of her hands over the fabric of Bora’s sweater. The lightest of touches. Fingers only slightly digging into Bora’s waist, steady and careful, and heavens, has anyone ever handled her with such care? Like she was the one responsible for hanging the stars on the firmament. When Siyeon’s fingers grazed Bora’s cheek while placing a strand of her hair behind her ear, the entire thought process turned into static. Hum of white noise, the pumping of blood in Bora’s ears, providing a low-intensity noise amidst an entirely silent scene. Two souls among the stars. Dimmed lights. The distant prospect of a night setting outside. The night Bora could have stepped into and closed the door behind.

She did not.

Then Siyeon finally spoke, asked in the most hushed of whispers Bora ever had the privilege of hearing, and received the answer in a form of a frantic nod. Shuffled closer, moved the hand from Bora’s waist onto her back and Bora felt the stardust in her bones yearning to fly into the night sky. And when Siyeon’s lips touched Bora’s at the same time her fingernails lightly scratched Bora’s back, there was one thing and one thing only left. 

Kissing her back.

So she did. Took a hold of Siyeon’s shoulder and instinctively moved backward on the couch. Backward. She, the trailblazer, the one always pushing forward in life. Anchored against the arm of the couch, very aware of Siyeon’s hand trailing patterns on her back. Over the sweater. For now. Would Siyeon’s fingers meet her skin? Bora trembled, trembled for God’s sake, at the thought and reached to bury her fingers in Siyeon’s dark hair. It was soft and so were Siyeon’s lips, so was Siyeon herself and even the way she was pressing Bora against the couch.

How could one be treated so delicately and not feel weak at all? Because aside from her body growing weaker in Siyeon’s embrace, Bora felt on top of the world. Heart soaring and mind clearing. All from a slow, sensual kiss. Lips against lips. Hands over clothes. 

Bora combed through the tresses of Siyeon’s hair. Dark and silky. Contrasting without clashing. Complimentary. Much like the hypnotizing scent of white musk and floral notes of jasmine on Siyeon’s skin. Her sharp nails and soft lips. Bora steadied herself on the couch, straightening herself against the wall, fingers still tangled in Siyeon’s hair. Lightly tugging on it in the process. 

When Siyeon gasped softly against Bora’s lips and all but melted into her arms, Bora felt her heartstrings being tugged on. Her entire self filling with infinite affection, grounding her firmly in the moment. The universe stopping in its tracks for a split second.

And then the world resumed and so did Bora’s stream of consciousness. Thoughts crashing back into her mind like a ton of bricks.

“Wait,” Bora placed a hand on Siyeon’s chest, lightly separating them. Missing her presence already. Her mind fuzzy, white noise very much present.

Running out of words. Tonight was truly a night for the books.

Siyeon’s hands smoothly fell to Bora’s waist, placed there without putting any pressure. A reminder, a promise, but not a request. She waited. Let Bora look for the correct words. Or any, for that matter. 

The sight of Siyeon after the kiss proved to be incredibly distracting. Some of her hair had slipped out of the half ponytail and fell over her cheekbones. Lips slightly puffed and parted, working to retrieve the oxygen her lungs were deprived of for quite a while. And Siyeon’s eyes…

Bora truly had no words.

“I-” she started but her voice faltered. Lips refused to return to their mundane task after getting a taste of other, more profound things they could do. Like kissing Siyeon.

Siyeon whose eyes slowly started shining with concern. She shifted back, making a cold draft envelop Bora’s very soul, “Do you need anything?” she whispered, “We can stop at any moment if you want…”

“No!” Bora blurted out. No matter how hazy her mind was, she had no doubt about that. She wanted to keep going. Pull Siyeon closer again. Bora cleared her throat, hands moving to comb her hair back “That,” she pointed between the two of them, “That was… it was.”

“It sure was,” Siyeon sighed, voice laced with a shaky chuckle.

“And believe me, there is nothing I would want more than doing it again,” Bora said earnestly, hoping Siyeon would hear the sincerity in her voice, “Many times.” 

Siyeon rubbed her arm with her hand, eyes flicking to the floor before returning to meet Bora’s, “That’s great to hear,” she sighed quietly, “But I feel like there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Bora nodded slowly. Trying to find a way to convey her feelings. Tell Siyeon the truth that she had never uttered out loud. 

“I would want this to be more,” she stated. Took a deep breath. That was the easy part, the complications were still ahead of her, “More than…”

“More than kissing on my couch after a few glasses of red?” Siyeon supplied for her.

“Yeah,” Bora whispered and looked Siyeon right in the eye, “I am sober though,” she stated, “Everything that happened… I would do it without any wine.”

Siyeon smiled, the shimmer in her eyes pushing the oxygen out of Bora’s lungs, “So would I.”

Bora could feel her eyes water. Wanted to laugh at the same time. Felt so much at the same time and could barely process it all. Her heart kept making desperate attempts to leap out of her ribcage, “This is just very new to me. Not the kissing, that’s… yeah,” she stumbled upon her words, making Siyeon giggle at her fluster.

And Bora wanted to hear it again. Make her laugh this way. 

“The feelings,” she finally said, “The feelings are new.”

“You’ve never?”

“Once.”

They sat, looking at each other. Wanting to close the gap but knowing there were still things left unsaid. And no matter what their hearts wanted, certain steps needed to be taken. 

“So,” Siyeon inquired, “There is a particularly difficult has-been in your life?”

“More like a never-was.”

Siyeon blinked, “Yeah, those can be tough.”

“Yeah.”

“Big F.”

Bora laughed. A short, shaky chuckle of a person, who could have lost everything had that interaction gone badly. And then as if possessed, she doubled over into a fit of giggles, the tension diffused by that one little comment. Siyeon stared at her for a moment, stunned both by her words and Bora’s reaction but then she joined in. Two of them laughed with unshed tears threatening to spill.

“I just need to take a moment to make sure I’m in the right place for this,” Bora eventually said, when the laughter died down a bit, “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Do you know how much that will take?” 

Great question. Did Bora know? Not quite, no. But the spark that refused to dim, the glimmer of hope in her heart made her inclined to know it would be sooner than later. 

“Give me a week to think?” she suggested, “I know it’s not the best deal for you but,” Bora paused. There was no follow-up to that statement. The situation simply put Siyeon at a disadvantage, having her risk further heartbreak.

Or at least so Bora thought, “Okay,” Siyeon sent her a small smile, “Just… if you end up realizing this is not what you want, don’t be a stranger.” 

“Of course not,” Bora reassured immediately. As if she could ever be capable of feeling any less than love for Siyeon. She had loved her long before any sort of non-platonic urges appeared in her brain. 

Siyeon’s shoulders relaxed a bit, the woman reclining back on the couch. Her eyes once again settled on Bora’s, their default direction of looking, “Remember not to break your own heart trying to make everyone happy.”

Everyone. The choice of words gave a sense of almost proverbial power to Siyeon’s statement. But in this particular moment, there were only two people in the entire universe, Bora being one of them. So what Siyeon’s been asking for, what she pleaded with Bora to do was to turn her down if the situation called for it.

Don’t break your own heart to make me happy, seemed to whisper Siyeon’s heart.

Bora’s answered but even she herself could not make it out yet. 

But it did answer.

***

“Where are you dragging me?

“Wear something warm.”

“Why did I even listen to you?”

Minji grinned at her, “Because you’re that whipped for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Bora scoffed, stifling a yawn. 

It was way too early to be up.

They sneaked out of Minji’s room ten minutes after 6 am, making sure not to disturb Minji’s parents. Minji had to shake Bora awake to Bora’s great dismay. The duo walked through the slumbering household, barely lit by the rising dawn. The scenery should have been even deserted or even cold, but it wasn’t. 

Probably because Minji’s enthusiasm that was basically bursting from her.

“Come on! We can’t miss it,” she hurried Bora as they climbed up the stairs.

“Miss what?” Bora asked, knowing she will not receive a satisfying answer.

She let Minji drag her higher up the stairs. Then they stopped on a landing between the first and second floors.

“We’re almost here, I promise,” Minji squeezed Bora’s hand, sensing her impatience and confusion.

“Okay.”

Minji opened the window, letting crisp morning air in. She pushed herself up onto the windowsill and sat with one leg propped on the flat roof of the garage. Turning back to Bora, she shot her a victorious grin and reached out her hand.

“What are we doing?” Bora asked, standing on her toes to see through the window.

“You’ll see soon,” Minji assured, “Just trust me, you’ll love it.”

Bora took Minji’s hand and put her other palm flat on the windowsill. Pushing herself up proved to be a challenge when using only one hand but letting go of Minji was not an option. The girl pulled Bora up with ease like she did countless times before. Like they both hoped she would for years and years to come.

They both climbed outside. Bora could see the flat surface of a part of the roof. Her eyebrows came up when Minji approached the ladder bolted to the wall.

“Are you taking me to the roof roof? Do you want to murder me or something?”

Minji rolled her eyes, “Wow, you figured it out.” she remarked, “Come on.”

Incredibly curious, Bora followed her up the ladder. It felt surreal to be so high up where the wind was stronger, making Bora’s hair fly around her head without any care in the world. She should feel uneasy looking down and seeing the ground so far away. But she didn’t.

Bora felt free.

She enjoyed the chilly air on her face as she turned around to look at Minji. She was smiling and reached for Bora’s hand.

“It’s almost time,” she said.

Bora took her hand, squeezing it tighter to keep Minji warm in the wind. They walked across the flat surface, circling around a sloping part of the roof towards the opposite side of the building.

And then Bora saw it.

The sun was rising, bright and orange, welcoming the new day. It felt familiar to what Bora was used to, the color palette close to that of a sunset.

Still, it was different.

So much different.

Sunsets were all pastel hues perfectly mixed with vibrant shades, covering the world in gold, and turning even the most mundane elements of the scenery into works of art. The final kiss goodnight before darkness enveloped the Earth. 

Meanwhile, the sunrise was more muted, painted in meek orange and yellow, almost hesitant in its display. Raw and subtle in its beauty as if it cared for the tired eyes of those who were up early enough to catch it.

Sunsets were the sensational promise of a new beginning, sunrises were the more mundane but still optimistic fulfillment.

Sunsets dared Bora to fly, the sunrise made her believe she was strong enough to stay grounded.

“See? I told you it will be worth it,” Minji’s voice was smug.

Bora turned to her and felt a breath catch in her throat.

During the countless sunsets they’ve watched together, Bora has seen Minji bathed in elegant violets, pastel pinks, daring oranges, and even literal gold. Now she could see her in the pale yellow of their first sunrise.

Minji had never been more beautiful.

She stood in the shy rays of the early morning sun that were quietly creeping up the sky. The sun was certain in its ways just like Bora was certain Minji would be there for her. 

Minji was smiling at her, eyes sparkling and slightly squinting because of the sun. She was wearing a white t-shirt and gray pants, her ponytail loose and slightly messy. Its shade of blonde glowing golden in the sun. Bora helped her dye it three days before. Behind Minji, the sky was slowly regaining its usual blue color.

The sun kept rising behind Bora’s back as she was facing the other way, taking in a completely different but even more breathtaking sight.

When Bora was five, she fell in love with the sky.

When she was thirteen, she fell in love with Minji.

***

The streets were empty. At least as empty as they could get during this time of the day. The few people roaming the city paid no attention as she zoomed past them. Just another ghost in this numbing frost they all happened to haunt. Desensitized to the suffering of the other, probably preserving any remnants of warmth to keep them afloat until they returned home. Focused on their own pain after years of stagnantly letting their energy be absorbed by these silent, stone walls.

Few had any sparks left inside them.

Even fewer would manage to keep it from wilting.

Cold raindrops hit Bora as soon as she steps outside of the building. Of course, they did.

She kept walking, hoping the frigid rain would at least clear her head a little.

What was she doing? Running away? Not quite. But even if that was exactly that, then from what exactly. Siyeon? Minji? Herself? Bora had no clue or maybe she was too afraid to come up with an answer. 

She kept walking.

Gusts of wind whipped against her body, barely protected from the freezing downpour assaulting her mercilessly. Just like the tucked-away memories would never protect her from the doubts and hurt lurking out in the world. There was nobody to protect her here. Not from that. But the fresh memory of Siyeon's warm embrace and even warmer heart made it slightly better. The air lighter as it left Bora's lips in white puffs. 

She got to kiss Siyeon. Got kissed by Siyeon. Something that she had been yearning for without fully realizing the profound impact it would have on her.

Bora reached the subway station in no time and almost walked right past it. Almost turned away to run back and tell Siyeon she had thought it over. Ask to be held. To be loved. Anything instead of stopping. Being motionless and letting the thoughts catch up to her. Too scared to face them like she always has been before. But she also knew that it was necessary. Dedicating time to peer into herself and learn where she stood. So she didn’t slow down, simply made a split-second decision to change the course, descended the stairs, and emerged onto the street from the other side.

It was funny to think that people said hearts always found a way. An uplifting notion that happy endings were promised. That at the end of the most treacherous of roads, soulmates would be reconnected and safe in each other’s company. 

The promise of a home.

She has no idea what time it was. Darkness still swallowed the city way too early for her liking, making afternoons seem like evenings and evenings turn into pitch-black nights. Bora could hear the traffic in the distance. People driving back from work, returning to their families, ready to enjoy the warmth waiting for them inside their bright houses.

Home.

Did Bora have a home? Yes, yes, she did. Several actually. At least four, in the form of her friends. Within Minji’s warm words and even warmer embrace, Yoohyeon’s endless attempts to annoy her with a smug grin, and Handong’s laugh, the one that reverberated through the walls when she found something particularly amusing. Maybe even in Gahyeon’s steady hand on the car wheel as they drove together through the city or Yubin’s affinity to remember the little quirks of her friends, their likes, and dislikes. And definitely Siyeon’s- 

Siyeon. 

God, how was she supposed to focus on introspection when all that her heart wanted to sing about was Siyeon? All she had to do was walk out, close the door with a subtle click and return after she figured everything out. Not burst straight through the walls they had constructed around their intimate bubble. Their peace. The mutual understanding so unfound, a diamond among coal, the most precious of treasures.

But that reminded her too much of hiding and Bora had decided not to hide anymore. Not from this. Walked away from one of the best things that had ever happened to her in order to travel through the pastel-colored memories of past sunsets. Of one particular sunrise. Left Siyeon behind to pick the pieces and complete the puzzle she did not have the reference picture to.

Love could be complex but also rewarding. So very rewarding. And Bora was set on putting in the work. Make effort to create sturdy foundations for something beautiful

Raindrops tapped on Bora’s cheeks, her hair, her clothes. All marked by Siyeon’s gentle touch. Eyes dry from the wind, the strain turning the streetlights into a yellowish haze. The fact that the color somehow reminds her of Minji’s hair that fateful morning seemed to be mocking her. 

No, not mocking. Giving an opportunity to take a closer look at the memories and separate them from her present reality. Keep them safe in the security of her heart but not make them her truth. Not when they might have overripened, like a fruit that grew too sweet over time. 

Bora had outgrown the feelings that had become the core of her relationships over the years. She only realized this now.

Blood rushed in her ears, muffling any other sound. Her muscles demanded rest; lungs begged for air warmer than three degrees below zero. Pleading with her to go inside. Get home and rest.

This was how it felt like to keep going even when everything in the world tried to get you to stop. Bora never struggled with that. Always on the move, constantly trying something new and working towards a set of goals without losing focus of what was important in her life. Her family. The girls she would walk through fire for.

Bora coughed, her throat dry and constricted from the polluted air, viva la capitalism. However, there was something different in the air tonight. It wasn’t the car fumes lingering in the air from the busiest traffic. Not even the humidity hanging low, sticking to her skin, and undoubtedly messing with her hair. 

Bora didn’t know how to describe the state she found herself in, walking through the suddenly familiar streets to one of the places her heart could rest in.

(After some time passes, she will call it clarity)

She reached her destination with damp hair sticking to equally wet cheeks, stained by fallen raindrops. The coat heavy on her shoulders, dragging her further into the ground. The weight prevented her from being close to the sky.

The buzzer resonated through the pitter-patter of raindrops against the sidewalk, muffled by the noise of rain and cars randomly driving by from time to time. Turning the world gray. Taking away the pristine white blanket of snow. Bora shivered, stuffing clenched fists into her pockets, suddenly very aware of how low the temperature truly was. She waited by the buzzer. Stomped in place in the hope the movement would warm her up. Finally, the door buzzed, and Bora immediately pushed it open.

Light seeped from under the door. Someone from the neighbors must have been cooking as the savory aroma of roasted meat filled the entire floor. Bora’s stomach rumbled. How long since she ate? The meal she prepared with Siyeon. Siyeon. Her lips pressed together in a tight line, fists tightening. She knocked. Once and then twice in a quicker manner.

After some shuffling on the other side, the door opened.

“Have you forgotten your-” the calm voice stopped mid-sentence as its owner stood in place with one hand on the door handle, “Bora? I thought Gahyeon didn’t have her keys,”

Gahyeon? Right, Gahyeon lived here too. Bora had forgotten in the haste of trying to reach the apartment amongst her galloping thoughts. Only rushed here to find solace in the presence of a specific person. A person, who was not the girl standing in the doorway with soft eyes peering from behind round wire-framed glasses. Huge flannel shirt hanging from her shoulders with a knitted cardigan over it. Sea-green hair falling in loose waves onto the fabric.

Bora stumbled upon her words at the unexpected sight, “Oh, sorry. I just wanted to-” She wasn’t even sure how to put her wants into words, “Is Dongie home?” The syllables left Bora’s word in jumbled clumps, knocking awkwardly into one another. She did not expect to see Yubin in the doorway. After dark. Wearing Handong’s sweater.

Good for them.

“In the shower, she should be out in a few minutes.” Yubin pushed the glasses up her nose with her finger, “Do you want to wait for her?” she looked Bora up and down slowly, “With a towel?”

“I don't mean to intrude," Bora hesitated. She desperately needed to talk to Handong but not if the woman was in the middle of something. She really should have called, "Sorry, it’s just- I wanted- “ Bora groaned under her breath, unable to produce a single coherent utterance with the cold finally reaching her nerves and a flurry of thoughts racing through her brain, “I can go.”

“Hey, you’re soaking,” Yubin furrowed her brows, “Maybe at least dry out first?”

“That would be wise, yeah,” Bora felt how exhausted she was. The prospect of going inside sounded more appealing than ever. 

Her voice was shaking. From the cold. Or maybe from the emotional overload that threatened to crack her chest open with every hammering heartbeat.

Bora stood in place, struggling to tear her eyes away from Yubin’s. Dark and rooting her in place. Unassuming. Seeing right through her but not demanding anything. Yubin reached into the apartment and brought her arm back, hand gripping a checkered blanket. She motioned for Bora to come closer and stretched out her arms to fling the fleece around Bora’s shoulders. Bora shivered. Barely kept it together while Yubin wrapped the fabric around her body, eyes fixated on her shoulders. With gentle precision. The action was so familiar, so yearned for.

So would I

God, she could have let herself stay there. Wanted to allow it.

But she knew better and needed to do better.

Yubin places her hand tentatively on Bora’s arm to gently lead her towards the door.

And something snapped.

Bora all but lunged forward, crashing into Yubin, who let out a quiet huff of surprise. They had never hugged. Not like this. Not with one of Bora’s arms wrapped around the other girl’s waist, so tightly she wondered if Yubin would snap in half. Not with Bora’s fingers gripping the front of Yubin’s shirt. Not with Yubin pulling Bora close and running her slender fingers up and down her back.

Bora found herself pressed against Yubin’s body and feeling how dainty it was. How delicate her hands, despite being larger than Bora’s, felt against her back. And yet, the embrace was firmer than any Bora had ever experienced. Steady. Secure. Much like Yubin herself and it made Bora think how much there was that she would have never expected from Yubin. 

“I’m- I-“ Bora was caught between apologizing for the sudden action and thanking Yubin profusely while still trying not to break into desperate sobs.

“Let’s come inside, okay?” Yubin’s hand never left her body. Not even for a second. Not even when Bora didn’t move.

Bora’s breath shook, “Yeah. Yeah, let's… let's do that. “

Yubin sat her in Handong's green armchair, the piece of furniture welcoming Bora like a pair of open arms, "I'll make tea."

Yes, tea. Bora remembered long evenings when she would spend time with Minji in the kitchen of her apartment. A teapot filled with whatever liquid wonder Yubin had prepared before retreating to her room. 

Love could be so quiet sometimes.

“Look at what the wind brought in," Handong stood in the doorframe, drying her damp hair with a black towel to prevent any visible staining from her freshly dyed hair, "What's going on?"

Yubin stared at the boiling water, monitoring the temperature, "I'll just finish this," she said, letting them know she would give them all the privacy they needed.

"Actually," Bora cut in, smiling shyly at Yubin, who turned to her, "I could use your perspective. If you don't mind."

Turned out that Yubin did not mind in the slightest. Soon enough both she and Handong joined Bora, each holding a steaming cup of tea.

"I've never seen you this serious," Handong prompted, stirring the honey into her drink. She looked like an attendee of a royal banquet, "Is it about Minji."

Bora shook her head. Siyeon’s face flashed through her mind. Minji’s laughter. Siyeon’s eyes. The way she felt pressed against her.

It was not about either of them.

“It’s about me.”

Bora took a breath, feeling courage resonate in her bones, and finally heard what her heart had whispered back in Siyeon's apartment.

 ***

On the other side of the city, another girl lay under her covers with rain pattering against her window. The pale face of the moon peaking from between the black curtain of clouds and shining its silver sheen on the glistening city. Slumbering silently. Lulled by the hum of raindrops and gentle wind rustling the bare tree branches.

Tears streamed down reddened cheeks as she recalled the details of the most recent conversation between her and her potential Never-Was. Tears induced by the raw emotions invoked by the evening. Tears of hope. Of wishing upon a star for a happy ending.

No, something, maybe the moon herself told Siyeon that Bora would not become a Never-Was. A Will-Be, hopefully. Might-Be for now. 

Regardless, Siyeon was ready.

And soon enough she'd learn Bora was too.