Moon Byul’s eyes were trained on Solar’s back as she put on her shirt. Moon Byul her lips, a cigarette tucked between her fingers. “So,” she started, voice husky, breaking the silence in the small apartment. “How are things going between you and your boyfriend?” It wasn’t really what she wanted to ask, but it was all that she was able to get out. What she really wanted to know was when she will get to see Solar again.

Solar shrugged, standing up from the bed, now fully dressed. She stared at Moon Byul who was still in bed, back leaned against the head board, the white blanket barely covering her body. She shook her head lightly. “I told you, smoking is bad for you,” she said disapprovingly, crawling back to the bed to retrieve the cigarette from Moon Byul. She ended straddling the blonde-haired girl, their face merely inches away as her hand crashed the cigarette on the ashtray on the bedside table.

Moon Byul's eyes moved from Solar’s eyes to her lips, head involuntary gravitating towards Solar, and finally catching herself in the last minute. Too much Solar is bad for her, too. She might not want to stop. She turned her head slightly to the left, avoiding Solar’s gaze. “You’re bad for me, too,” she whispered. “But you keep coming back. We keep coming back.”

“You know how people say there are things that are the best kind of bad something?” Solar said, moving away from Moon Byul. “Well, you are that best kind of bad something for me.”

Moon Byul looked back at Solar, her eyes softening now. “Why can’t I just be that best kind of good something?”

“You know it’s impossible,” Solar answered.

Moon Byul wanted to ask why, or if it is because they are both girls, but she stopped herself. She already knew the answer to those. And on top of those, Solar’s engaged. To a man. Moon Byul could never compete to that.

Solar kissed Moon Byul’s forehead before moving out of the bed completely. “I have to go,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

Moon Byul could only nod her head because, really, what else could she do? She watched as Solar leave the room, each of her steps stinging Moon Byul’s chest like nails being hammered on it because nobody really know when that later is. Not even Moon Byul.