Casual hand-holding.

Wet, playful smooches on cheeks and bare, smooth shoulders.

Fingers tracing a sharp jawline.

It’s nothing unusual.

Wheein presses kisses on Hyejin’s shoulders as they prepare dinner in the kitchen.

Yongsun plays with Byulyi’s hair, the distant, muffled pitter-patter of rain making up for the silence between them.

It’s distinctly them.

Byulyi’s low voice caressing Wheein’s ears with soft lullabies as they drift off to sleep, huddled close together for warmth.

Hyejin lets Yongsun lie down on her lap, abandons the music sheets in her hands to run her fingers down the older girl’s side.

The world is large, larger than the life that they have planned together and it’s frightening.

Wheein and Yongsun laugh together as sit on the living room floor in an impenetrable fortress of pillows and blankets with an army of oversized stuffed animals guarding them.

Byulyi holds Hyejin’s hand tighter as they bend and weave their way through the crowd, the matching couple hats they have on their heads threatening to slip off their heads as they make their way to the ferris wheel.

But they can’t risk it, can’t waste the precious seconds they have for one another; so they chase after the memories that fade as quickly as they are made.

And breathe life into new ones to make up for the loss.