Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Piano Sonata No. 8 in A major, K.310.

Sowon wasn’t the type of person who would know a lot about classical music, but from time to time she would play it as a background melody to fill the emptiness while she was reading. She didn’t know what A major, K.310 meant, but somewhere between the lines of the book she was reading, she would hear a note that would get stuck on her restless mind and she would analyze all the emotions it held.

That morning when she decided to get out of bed and explore the small area around the dorms, an unknown warmness had bloomed inside her. She felt lighter, her mind was sleepy, which had allowed her eyes to adore the beautiful details of the streets and buildings without overanalyzing them, even though in the back of her head a whisper kept reminding her of the smirking girl from last night, telling her that all she was looking for in the busy streets was the haunter of her recent thoughts.

Letting out a deep sigh she entered a small coffee shop and looked around, the huge line in front of her moving slowly. As minutes passed by a few raindrops started falling lazily from the sky, bumping into the store’s glass. Sowon cuddled herself inside the coat she was wearing and noticing that she didn’t have an umbrella, so she just decided to sit down on one of the wooden tables. Taking the cup of tea she had ordered she made herself comfortable in a dark corner and stared outside the glass. The vision blurred and after a while she started paying more attention at the way the raindrops fell on the transparent material, leaving trails of water in it than the moving life behind the glass. The drops would collide and then separate again so quickly. For a moment she thought they were shooting stars, leaving a trail of glittering dust behind where she could make her wish.

But Sowon didn’t have a lot of things to wish for. She had started a living on her own, had entered the Academy of Arts and was currently on the right path to become a writer, or at least, to try to become a writer. She also had a nice warm cup of tea on a cold September day that made this morning a little bit better.

“Lonely again?” A caramel voice chuckled and Sowon got cut off of her thoughts, lifting her eyes up to meet the dark orbs of Eunha’s. “May I join?”

“Of course,” Sowon answered smiling, her left hand mechanically tugging a trail of the younger girl’s short hair behind her ear, while her gaze was focused on the piercing on top it. “Interesting,” Sowon said in a low voice, smiling towards the girl.

Eunha’s pale skin took a light shade of pink around her cheekbones as she awkwardly shook her head, the hair releasing from her ear and covering the piercing. And something about it made Sowon giggle.

“It was a terrible mistake, wasn’t it?” she asked in half a voice, her cheeks still a faint pink.

“Of course not,” Sowon replied still giggling while searching the pockets of her coat for a pen. And in a blur she heard Eunha talking about her transition phase. How she cut her hair, changed her style, pierced her ear and realized that Van Gogh was her main inspiration. She said something between the lines of her wanting to look like-or at least feel like-one of his paintings, but Sowon didn’t pay attention to that. She tried, but her mind was screaming again, isolating her from every other sound.

Eunha’s attention was only stolen when Sowon picked up a napkin and started writing there, with her smudged and bad handwriting. After finishing she folded the white napkin and pushed it towards the young girl, her eyes focused on the pen she was holding.