So you identify days with colors?” Byulyi sat legs-crossed, staring at Wheein with a pair of curious eyes. Their chemistry project had long been forgotten.

Wheein shook her head.

“I see the colors. Like, literally seeing them with my eyes. I see it in days, in months, in people, in voices. In almost everything.”

Byulyi was stunned.

“How?”

Wheein shrugged her shoulders, “I’ve seen the colors since I was born, I guess?”

“No, I mean… How does it feel? To literally see colors in everything?”

Byulyi looked genuinely stupefied and excited, like when a kid saw a cotton candy for the first time. Something about it reminded Wheein of how she first saw her kitten in the shelter and it made her giggle.

“At first it felt weird when other people can’t see what I see.”

Byulyi nodded at this.

“I would say someone’s voice is rose gold and they told me I was very poetic.”

Another nod.

“But now it feels just ordinary. I’ve seen a lot of similar colors. It doesn’t seem to be as colorful anymore.”

Byulyi understood why her schoolmates had been saying that Wheein was weird. She probably was, but it’s just because Wheein was different. Very very different that not everyone could come to understand her.

Byulyi spent the rest of her high school trying to understand Wheein.

“What color am I?” Byulyi blurted out the question, half-playful and half-expectant.

Instead of answering, Wheein pulled her kitten to her lap, before the little feline could scratch its paw against their chemistry paper.

“I like Thursday. It’s my favorite day.”

Byulyi furrowed her eyebrows. She spent the rest of high school trying to figure out Wheein’s color.

A lot of times when Byulyi missed Wheein, her mind would venture back to one exact day. It was a cold winter on December, when Byulyi had her 18th birthday.

“You come here often?” Byulyi asked, Wheein had her arm linked around hers while her another hand was stuffed with cotton candy and balloon.

Wheein shook her head.

“My first time.”

Byulyi raised an eyebrow, “you said quote I know the perfect place to celebrate your birthday end quote.”

Wheein giggled at Byulyi’s bad impersonation of her voice and looked at the latter, eyes forming crescent moons from the smile.

“Is this not a perfect place?”

Byulyi ruffled the latter’s hair. Of course it was. Anywhere with Wheein would be perfect, anyway.

“You can’t give any testimony for places you haven’t gone to and things you haven’t tried.”

But Wheein didn’t catch that because she had already run toward a ferris wheel, pointing delightfully at the ride. Byulyi let out a sigh and smiled. Whose birthday was it again?

“What?”

Byulyi shifted her gaze somewhere else. The ferris wheel was moving awfully slow and when Byulyi thought Wheein would be too absorbed to stare at the view outside, she was wrong. Wheein had her gaze glued on Byulyi all the time.

“You’re turquoise.”

Byulyi’s gaze was quick to divert back to Wheein.

It was December when she first knew her color.

“Like Thursday?” She asked because she didn’t know what to react. She might want to google what the color turquoise meant after they went home.

“Like Thursday.” Wheein nodded.

“Your favorite day?” Byulyi asked again.

“My favorite day.”

And then there was silence, just the creaking sound of their cart slowly rising up. Because Byulyi didn’t know what else to say and Wheein was still staring at her.

“Is turquoise a good color?” Byulyi asked again, after a few minutes of their silence. The question was hesitant and she didn’t know what to expect. She guessed she just wanted to be everything good for Wheein.

Wheein giggled and instead of answering, she leaned closer and kissed Byulyi on the cheek.

“Happy birthday.”

Later that night, when they went home, Wheein said something about Byulyi being the only person with such color. And greeted her an early Christmas. And that she wished to go to the amusement park again. Maybe on April, when it was her birthday.

Byulyi still didn’t know if turquoise was a good color but Wheein said it was her favorite, and she thought it was enough.

“Can I get my birthday present?” Byulyi mumbled.

Wheein frowned. She didn’t prepare any.

“Can I give it tomorrow? Iㅡ”

But Byulyi had pulled her close and pressed her lips against Wheein’s. It was soft. Gentle. Careful. Like the fall of the first snowflake, or the winter breeze that caused Wheein’s hair to brush against Byulyi’s cheek.

They both went home, blushing, and hearts beating to the rhythm of Christmas jingles.

Byulyi had her morning coffee ready and took a sip only to grimace at the scalding hot liquid. She barely slept the night before, thinking about Wheein.

It was not new for her to think about the petite girl with dimples that she was dying to poke. But she had gotten used to thinking about her only occasionally, unknown of her whereabouts and could only be reminisced through old photographs.

But that day, Wheein was only a few minutes away, at a hotel room in Seoul with Hyejin, and in a couple of hours, Byulyi would see her. She was no longer only in her memories.

Byulyi took another sip of her coffee, this time blowing it gently to make sure it wouldn’t scald her tongue again. Then, she reached for her phone to text Wheein. It was 7:25. She wondered if Wheein had woken up.