Hyejin knows it's over the moment Wheein walks into the room. The air’s been out of the atmosphere, the Milky Way spun out of control, planets flung helplessly across the universe like steel orbs in a pinball machine, the earth T-minus ten seconds from spiralling into the fiery sun.

Hyejin knows it’s over when Wheein meets her eye and smiles. She's wearing knee-highs and a bright pink sweater far too big for her, sleeve falling off her shoulder, collarbones dipping into dark shadows across her skin. Wheein nudges her glasses back into place on the ridge of her nose, just as Hyejin tears her gaze away and tells herself to stop staring. But her heart flutters, skips a beat, as Wheein settles down beside her on the sofa, their knees brushing.

Hyejin knows it’s over in a single moment of heartache and helplessness. She makes up her mind.

“What do you want to do?”

It’s 6AM. They’re going back to Jeonju in two hours. Their plane tickets are tucked safely in their pockets and their bags sit neatly on Hyejin’s living room floor. They’ve gone home from Seoul together a hundred times, but this time was going to be different. She looks up at Wheein, her reply on the tip of her tongue-

“River?” Wheein asks.

“Yeah.”

“I can totally read your mind,” Wheein laughs, dimple showing. “I think I’m your soulmate.”

Hyejin flushes. If her love was a flower, then Wheein was the sunshine, just a million times brighter.

She’s going to tell her.

The trip back home is uneventful, save for the flipping of Hyejin’s heart as she recites her lines in her head. I love you, I love you, I love you-

“You okay?”

Hyejin snaps out of her daze. Wheein’s looking up at her concernedly. She pokes a french fry at Hyejin’s lips, and Hyejin opens without missing a beat.

“Yeah.”

“Really? You seem a little out of it today.”

“I’m okay.”

“Alright, but you know you can tell me if anything’s wrong.” Wheein says it like it’s a fact. Hyejin’s heart hurts.

“I know.”

They reach the riverside at 1:02PM, bags in tow because Hyejin said she really wanted to go while the weather was still good. They sit on the riverbank quietly, legs crossed, knees touching. Hyejin tears at blades of grass. Wheein hums the tune of Moon River. Eight minutes pass before either of them say anything, but the silence doesn’t grow cold. The sun peeks out from behind the moving clouds.

“I need to tell you something.” Hyejin starts, wiping her hands on her jeans.

“I know. What is it?” Wheein asks, gentle and warm, and for a brief moment Hyejin lets herself take in all that she’s about to lose.

"I-I,” Hyejin looks away, but Wheein can see the breath she's holding in the curve of her back and the sea behind her eyes on the verge of spilling over.

A tremor. A wave.

"I like you."

“I...like you too, Hyejinnie,” Wheein says, but her voice is heavy with trepidation.

Hyejin takes a deep breath, air into her lungs as if oxygen was courage, the strength she needed to tear down walls and string together the feelings she'd kept unspoken for far too long.

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“Hm?”

It’s barely a question because the look in Wheein’s eyes tells Hyejin she knows. It’s barely a question because Wheein can see the answer in Hyejin’s clenched jaw and paled knuckles. She can see it in the way her words seem lost on the tip of her tongue and the way Hyejin never meets her eyes. A hesitance not born out of doubt, but out of unshakeable certainty that her words were the truth, that they'd tip her world on its axis if she were only to utter-

"I'm in love with you," she says, voice barely a whisper, "I'm so in love with you, I don't know what to do." Hyejin's voice cracks under the weight of her fear and desperation. Salty waves roll, and hot tears fall. She gasps as the wall finally crumbles down. There’s a heartbeat of silence. The river shifts beside them.

“Hey,” Wheein says, wiping Hyejin’s tears off her cheek with her pink sleeve. “Don’t cry, Hyejinnie.”

Hyejin lets out a sob, voice strangled by her breath, her heart in . She reaches up and takes Wheein’s hand, pressing it softly against her cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Wheein whispers, tender.

If Hyejin’s love was a flower, then Wheein was a rising tide, a summer storm.

“You won’t lose me, okay?”

Wheein says it like it's a fact. Hyejin believes her.