Yongsun found a neatly folded sheet of scented paper resting on the bedside table. Seeing one shouldn't be anything unusual; considering over seven hundred days of living under the same roof—sharing the same little world with her, rather, as she insisted of calling their setup that way. She's used to seeing crumpled pieces of paper around the flat almost all the time. Mostly around her workplace, but sometimes under her pillows, when she's having difficulties in channeling her deep ocean of thoughts into words. 

It's a neatly folded one.

There are days when Yongsun feels like her brain betrays her sometimes; not functioning well when most needed. And she was sure that today was one of those days. She realized faintly that her earlier assumption was wrong. Of course, it was unusual. For over seven hundred days of being with the same woman, sharing the same little world, she should have had noticed that something feels different from the start.

It's a neatly folded one.

Everything that ever comes in contact with Moon Byul's skin transforms into a complete state of mess. But this peacefully resting sheet is the sole evidence that not everything dies in her touch.

Yongsun did not waste anymore time. She took the sheet in her hands, her fingers gently grazing the feeling of the paper against her skin. She need not to deny that a single feeling of texture made her remember certain times; like the first summer they spent together, when she was able to experience how two freely falling bodies are able to collide.

Even the prettiest folds cannot hide how messy you are, especially if it comes from the inside, she thought. The outside appearance of the sheet might be acceptably presentable, however, anyone who could see the inside part would probably say otherwise. As expected, she used blue ink—"You call that azure."—azure, rather, to tattoo her thoughts on the paper. 

Yongsun read right away.

I hate that you're probably going to read this. 

You know how much I hate it when you read my drafts without my permission, but you still do anyway.

I hate that you're probably thinking why it isn't as messy as the other pieces I wrote. 

You're judging me right now, that's for sure,  but with all honesty I'm just trying my best to become better. 

For you.

Or at least for myself.

I hate that you're probably in our room right now, alone. 

See how I made it our?

See how I'm trying my best to fit us in one sentence?

I hate that you're probably wondering why.

R