Fine, so maybe Moonbyul’s just really bored. 

But it’s not like she can help it, not after months of non-stop travelling. Sure, being able to go on business trips had sounded fun at first, but she quickly realised that it involved lots of being alone. This meant eating alone, walking alone, and in times of slight madness, talking to herself out loud in public.

She admits that the queen-sized beds the company books for her makes her feel even more depressed, and that she has spent quite a number of nights staring at the empty space to her left. She never had the heart to fill it with an extra pillow.

As she checks into her tenth hotel of the year - and it’s only May!, she thinks to herself - she decides that she needs something to relieve her dull, lonesome life. She just hopes that the housekeeper doesn’t mind.

*

Solar wheels a cart loaded with fresh bed linen and clean towels down the corridor of the eighteenth floor of the hotel she works in, and wonders why she ever decided to apply for the job.

It may have had to do something with her idea of what a housekeeper might wear. She plucks at the buttoned collar of her uniform and cringes at the plainness of it all. Where are the frills, the ever-so-slightly revealing top, the shorter-than-necessary skirt? Instead, she has to wear a very modest button-up and pants so black she could go without washing them for years. 

Sighing, she nearly crashes her cart into a guest, and fortunately manages to swerve it off its path of collision. She starts to open to apologise, but realises that the guest hasn’t even been paying attention.

Whoever this guest is, Solar thinks grouchily, they should really look up when walking instead of burying their head in their phone. She knows it’s not her place to tell them off, however, so she continues walking.

Standing outside at her assigned room, 1806, she first knocks on the door and announces her arrival. When she’s sure there’s no guest inside the room, she swipes her master key and opens the door. Her eyes immediately scan for everything she needs to put back in place…

And land on an assortment of pillows on the bed, arranged in such a way that they resemble the general shape of a human lying down with a remote in its ‘hand’.

Solar snickers, amused, and pulls out a pen and some paper to write a response.

*

Moonbyul warily returns that night, wondering how room service responded to her expression of bored creativity. Opening the door to her room, she sneaks a peek at her bed, and is mildly disappointed to see that the bed has been rearranged so neatly it’s as if it was completely untouched.

Plopping down onto the duvet, she hears a soft crinkle under her, and reaches down to extract a small piece of notepad paper that she has accidentally sat on.

Drawn on the paper is a character that, despite obviously poor artistic skill, she vaguely recognises as a grinning Squirtle.

Not bad, housekeeping, not bad, she decides. 

In her mind, Moonbyul is already thinking of her next bedding sculpture. In fact, she has an inkling of what she’s going to make, and starts pulling out the extra bolsters and towels supplied in preparation of tomorrow.

*

Solar is very certain that the guest staying in room 1806 is extremely bored, considering that her entrance was greeted by a giant pillow-bolster-and-towel insect, complete with cup coasters as eyes and tiny shampoo bottles as antennae. 

Cheeky.

This time, she takes out her entire notepad. With some googling of techniques and a heap of notepad paper, she successfully folds one sheet into a bird. Then, ripping another piece of paper out, she quickly jots down another message for her guest, before hastily moving to clean the room.

The manager of the hotel is, after all, very strict on time, and Solar doesn’t want to get fired.

But she’s definitely looking forward to her housekeeping duty tomorrow. 

*

Moonbyul reads the message left on her bed first.

“Your giant insect was a very filling lunch for my little bird. Thank you!”

She chuckles and picks up the origami crane, observing its neatly folded edges. She’s sure that the origami bird in her hand isn’t the housekeeper’s first attempt, remembering the hilarious drawing from the night before. Happy that her humour has been well-received so far, she decides to thread some string through the crane and hang it as a charm on her briefcase.

Yawning, Moonbyul starts her long night at her desk with her laptop, preparing for an important presentation in a few days’ time. Not long after, however, her mind begins to wander, and she finds herself thinking of how else to entertain the person in charge of servicing her room.

Grabbing some paper from her bag, she begins to sketch, and continues to draw deep into the night.

*

Solar’s enjoying her housekeeping duties now. At the very least, it keeps her mind far away from what a fashion disaster her uniform is. 

It’s been almost a week now, and she can’t help but admit that the guest staying in room 1806 is far more imaginative than she ever will be. She particularly loved the car design, where bolsters were used as wheels and the guest had drew stickmen on paper windows. This just raises her budding interest in the anonymous guest higher and higher.

As she heads towards her Favourite Room, as she likes to call it now, she passes by a rushing guest. This time, however, she accidentally makes eye contact with them, and nods in greeting. The guest, with long blonde hair flying behind a particularly triangular face, pauses and gives her a little grin before running off again.

Solar misses the little notepad-paper origami crane hanging from the strap of the guest’s briefcase, and continues to push her cart.

To her surprise, the bed in her Favourite Room today is completely devoid of any sculpture. Instead, it has been left utterly messy, as if someone had left in a hurry.

Disappointed, she makes the bed slowly and leaves a sheet of paper with a sad emoticon on it. As she jots down a little note below the emoticon, she suddenly remembers the female guest that she had met in the corridor. Maybe, Solar thinks. Could The Woman be the resident of room 1806?

*

Moonbyul trudges back to her room, exhausted. Trust the company to make last-minute arrangements and shift her presentation to three hours before it was due, then add back-to-back meetings after. 

Her bed tonight looks more enticing than any other night, and she dives face-first onto fluffy pillows. Turning her head, she blearily opens one eye and spies a small plate of complimentary chocolates on the bedside table. She reaches for the chocolates and grabs the paper that accompanies them. Gratefully munching on the snacks, she smiles a little at the sad face drawn on the paper, and is touched when she reads the housekeeper’s note.

“How was your day today? It seemed like you were in a rush, so here are some complimentary chocolates for you to eat while you rest. Goodnight!”

After reading the note, Moonbyul feels fully charged. She opens her laptop, her body and brain now containing enough energy to complete a bit more work before resting tonight.

After all, she has the day off tomorrow, and sleeping in does sound quite tempting.

*

Solar stares at the unmoving lump under the duvet from her awkward position at the doorway, wondering whether or not she should announce her presence or return to the room at a later time. Choosing the latter, she moves back, but at the sound of the creaky door the lump begins to move as the guest stirs in their bed.

“Hello?” A voice croaks, hoarse and dry from sleep.

“Ah, yes,” Solar says, still hovering at the doorway. “I’m from housekeeping. Should I come back later?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, you can do your thing. I’ve woken up already anyway.”

Solar inches into the room to replace old towels and spots her guest, now swaying from drowsiness in a sitting position. She was right; the guest is The Woman from the other day. “Hi, I’m Solar.” Better to introduce yourself to a person you’ve been indirectly talking to for a week, she thinks.

“I’m Moonbyul” is the response as The Woman rubs the sleep from her half-closed eyes. The stretched collar of her pyjama top has slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing fair skin and defined clavicles. “What time is it?”

“Summertime,” Solar blurts out before she can stop herself. 

Moonbyul snorts in a very unladylike manner, and captures a little bit of Solar’s heart.

*

“I take it that your real name isn’t actually Solar,” Moonbyul muses one day while she watches Solar buzz around her room over the top of her newspaper.

“But Moonbyul is your real name, right?” Solar asks in response as she stocks up the mini-bar. She hears the crinkle of paper being folded, and briefly turns around to see Moonbyul staring at her with open.

“How did you know?”

“I work here, Moonbyul. I could easily ask reception for your name.”

“Fair.” Moonbyul stretches lazily, leaning forward to take a better look at the housekeeper. Her eyes roam past the caramel-brown hair tied up in a bun and down the slim body clad in what she decides to be the most ugly, unflattering outfit she has ever seen. “Lord, how can you stand wearing that?”

Solar closes the door of the small fridge and looks down at her clothes, picking at them disapprovingly. “I have no idea, to be quite honest. It’s part-and-parcel of the job, just bear with it for a while. I’m almost done, you won’t have to look at this fashion disappointment for any more than a minute.”

“Well, I really wouldn’t mind looking at it for a while more,” Moonbyul says ever so casually, her gaze following Solar’s movements. “As long as you’re okay with looking at me for another thirty minutes or so.”

“What are you trying to imply, Moonbyul?”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Moonbyul gestures to one of the plush chairs next to her bed, “I’ve ordered lunch for the both of us, and I’d like to get to know you more.” She grins, a genuine crinkly-nose smile that has become one of Solar’s greatest weaknesses.

Solar smiles and nods back, knowing she has no way of saying ‘no’. 

*

Solar knocks on the door, three sharp raps, a secret signal she shares with Moonbyul. She waits for a response, but the door stays shut. She announces her presence with a “Housekeeping!” before entering the room. 

Looking around, Solar finds the room devoid of people. Maybe Moonbyul is out today, she thinks to herself, and grabs fresh towels from her trolley. With soft, cotton towels in one hand, she pulls open the bathroom door and steps in. A wave of warm air hits her, and she waves her hands to clear the steam that covers her eyes. 

“Can I help you, Solar?”

Solar freezes in place; is she hallucinating that voice? She slowly turns to face the shower stall. Moonbyul stands in it, her arms folded across her chest, not a single piece of clothing nor towel on her. She is slim, with firm washboard abs and slim legs which make them seem longer than they actually are. 

“You like what you see?” Moonbyul’s teasing voice brings Solar back to her senses. Solar quickly averts her gaze, embarrassed to be caught staring.

Hemming and hawing, she backtracks out of the bathroom with one hand covering her eyes. “I’m so sorry! I’ll just leave the fresh towels on your bed.” She closes the door behind her as Moonbyul guffaws loudly from the bathroom.

As she arranges the rest of the room to its intended neatness, Solar’s mind keeps flitting back to Moonbyul’s body. Crouching down, she rubs at her cheeks, feeling the heat that radiates across her face. “Get it together, Solar, you’re not a ert,” she mutters to herself. Moonbyul’s body flashes in her mind again. “Okay, maybe a ert, but not a crazy one. Stop it.” 

“So you’re saying that you are a ert,” a husky voice murmurs into her ear, making Solar jolt and fall -first onto the carpeted floor. Moonbyul squats next to her, chin propped on one hand and a mischievous smile on her face. “Am I right?” she asks, standing up and tugging her shirt back into place before offering a hand to Solar.

Solar takes her hand, allowing Moonbyul to pull her up. “Nope!” Solar announces, defiant.

“Then why are you blushing?” Moonbyul pats Solar’s cheeks endearingly, chuckling at Solar’s pout.

“I’m not!” Solar insists, then notices Moonbyul’s outfit. “Oh, are you going somewhere?” 

Moonbyul looks sharp in a formal, long-sleeved shirt and suit pants, all ironed to perfection. Grabbing a complementary suit jacket and tie from the cupboard, she nods. “Yeah, I’ve got a business meeting to attend today.” She retrieves her work satchel from under her desk, dropping files and her laptop into it.

Solar’s eyes pick up the familiar paper crane hanging from one of the zippers, and it makes her smile. “Cute bird,” she pipes up, pointing at the origami bird.

“I agree,” Moonbyul says. “Not as cute as the one who made it, though.” She throws a wink at Solar over her shoulder.

Solar cringes at the compliment, watching as the woman fumbles with her tie. “Wow, you’re terrible at this.” Solar takes matters into her hands, easily tying a simple Windsor knot under Moonbyul’s watchful gaze. Tightening the tie, her eyes travel up to meet Moonbyul’s unwavering ones.

They stay that way for a moment, Solar’s hands at Moonbyul’s tie, before the latter breaks the silence. “Um, thank you,” Moonbyul mutters, her tone suddenly shy. She slings her bag over her shoulder and makes her way to the door. Before leaving, however, she turns back to look at Solar.

“Will you be available for dinner later?” Moonbyul asks with a hopeful voice.

Solar laughs; they both know that Moonbyul knows the answer to that question. “Of course.”

*

“Housekeeping,” Solar announces as she stands rather impatiently in front of room 1806, one hand covering the peephole on the door.

“Solar, it’s ten at night, what are you-” Moonbyul’s complaint slows to a halt and her eyes widen when she sees Solar - or rather, what Solar is wearing. 

“Now, this is a much better outfit than the usual, don’t you think?” Solar twirls a lock of hair around her index finger as she spins around, letting Moonbyul take a good, long look. Tonight Solar is wearing what Moonbyul can only describe as a ‘y maid outfit’: a black, fitting dress with white frills and a wide, low collar that exposes Solar’s clavicles.

Solar poses for an awestruck Moonbyul, flipping her hair.

Exposes her clavicles and cleavage, Moonbyul realises, correcting herself. She instinctively gulps, a nervous reaction that Solar doesn’t miss.

Leaning in, Solar’s lips find themselves in dangerous proximity of Moonbyul’s. “You like what you see?” she teases, echoing Moonbyul’s words from last time.

She doesn’t expect Moonbyul to retrieve a coat from the closet and drape it over her, covering the outfit that she has painstakingly hunted down. Neither does she expect Moonbyul’s sudden tug at the coat, pulling her in until they are chest to chest, their lips now barely centimetres away from each other’s.

The sudden action makes Solar flush a deep crimson, and she hastily turns her face away.

Chuckling, Moonbyul releases her grip and steps back. “Honestly, what a tease.” She her head and leans on the doorframe. “Why do you insist on tempting me so much, Solar?”

Now definitely making sure she’s looking at anywhere but Moonbyul, Solar replies in a quiet voice: “Because I like you.”

“Then, can I kiss you?”

“Yeah… Wait, wha-” A blink is all it takes for Moonbyul to swoop in and capture Solar’s lips with hers. Moonbyul’s eyes are closed, her eyelashes fluttering against Solar’s cheeks, and all Solar can think of in her haze is how soft Moonbyul’s lips are, gentle and sweet like honey. Her fingers find themselves entangled in Moonbyul’s blonde hair as they continue to kiss.

Moonbyul breaks their kiss first, leaning back for air. Panting, she stares into Solar’s eyes and grins. “I think we should continue this inside?”

The corners of Solar’s mouth curve up alluringly, and she pushes Moonbyul into the room, closing the door behind them.

The corridor leading to Room 1806 stays empty for the rest of the night.

*

Solar forgets the way she is geographically bound to the hotel the same way she forgets that Moonbyul is in the end only a temporary guest. She supposes that it’s a good thing Moonbyul cares enough to inform her two nights before that she is to leave, to return home at the end of her long business trip.

But she wishes Moonbyul hadn’t told her at all; Solar would rather have a sudden farewell than a sad, drawn-out goodbye.

It only gives her nightmares.

Which is how Moonbyul finds her in the dead of the night, curled up and clutching at her pillow. Her whimpers break Moonbyul’s heart. Moonbyul draws her in close, watching over her, this beautiful woman who she has met and learnt about and fallen in love with throughout this past month. 

With a finger she traces Solar’s features, from the small but distinct mole below her right eyebrow to her adorable, fluffy cheeks. How will she ever be able to leave, to possibly never see Solar again? There must be a way for them to stay together, Moonbyul is sure, or at least meet again.

For now, however, Moonbyul can only hold Solar in her arms and chase the nightmares away.

*

Moonbyul has her suitcase in one hand, satchel in the other. The receptionist notes her distraction and has to repeatedly call her name to attract her attention to return her passport. Moonbyul thanks the receptionist and takes one long look around the hotel lobby again, silently wishing that she could see Solar’s face one more time before she leaves.

But Solar doesn’t appear, because Moonbyul has decided to check out at the same time as Solar’s housekeeping routine.

They both agree that it’s easier this way - less painful, no tears.

Despite this, Moonbyul still leaves with a heavy heart.

She now realises that there really is no such thing as an easy, painless separation.

*

One year later, and Moonbyul is still as tired of moving in and out of hotels, if not more. She’s especially done with this hotel, even though she hasn’t been back since the previous May. Personally, Moonbyul can’t wait to leave this building and return to her new house, barely twenty minutes away.

The only reason she’s even here is to find one particular person among the employees in this busy hive.

Moonbyul hovers around the reception counter for a while until she gives in and leans towards the employee behind the counter, her eyes still roaming around. “Excuse me, but do you know whether Solar still works here?”

An uncontrollable laugh the pitch of a dolphin’s erupts next to her. “Take a good guess!”

Moonbyul’s jaw drops to the floor. She turns around, slowly. “Solar?” she whispers, stunned, unbelieving. And yet it is Solar grinning at her, with those mochi-like cheeks and that little mole at the corner of her eyebrow. She looks exactly the same, not a single difference from the last time Moonbyul saw her.

 “The one and only.” Solar winks. Moonbyul corrects herself as her eyes wander downward; Solar is now wearing a classy receptionist’s uniform with a shiny name tag pinned to her chest. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” she simpers.

“Yeah…” Moonbyul hesitates, then grabs Solar’s hand. “Wait, follow me outside for a while. Get someone to take over your shift,” she orders, pulling the latter out from behind the desk and into a luggage storage room so that they can have some privacy.

They stare at each other, sharing a long, charged moment.

To be quite honest, Solar is desperately trying to hold herself back from taking any actions. Half of her wants to strangle Moonbyul for leaving and not contacting her for a whole year, while the other half is burning with a passionate desire to jump the skinny woman’s bones, and she doesn’t really know what to do.

She soon finds out that her restraint is quite unnecessary when Moonbyul’s lips crash against hers, full of greed and hunger. As they deepen the kiss, Solar utters a quiet moan, her entire body filling up with fire and heat. Moonbyul’s hands snake under Solar’s top, long, cool fingers ghosting up warm skin, making Solar writhe under her touch.

Solar’s colleagues wisely choose to ignore the suggestive sounds that emit from the storage room.

Solar’s hair is undone, trailing down her s as she pants heavily. Her back is pressed against one of four walls of this confined space, and she can barely feel Moonbyul’s lips trailing up her clavicles and neck.

“I missed you,” she breathes.

Moonbyul stops her kisses, her lips curving into a smile against Solar’s bare skin. “I missed you too.”