Sana has a love-hate relationship with weekends; Jihyo knows that like the back of her hand. Sana likes them because she gets some me-time and comfort inside the confines of their apartment and Jihyo’s arms, but her distaste towards her evening shift at the crowded bookstore can’t change. (She never gets why high school teenagers act like they own that small bookstore. Sana stopped telling them off after a good month.)

Jihyo remembers that if one day they decided to move out from the cozy and small apartment they rented since one and a half year ago, Sana wanted to move out at weekends. No special reasons, I just haven’t crossed that one from my bucket list, she said, and Jihyo just nodded along. (Even if Jihyo had a wish to live in their apartment for the rest of her life in her own bucket list, she ended up looking up residential catalogues the day after. Nayeon told her she acted like an obedient puppy at the exact same day.)

And starting from today, Jihyo officially decided that she loathes weekends when her eyes open that morning. Some of Sana’s suitcases layed on the floor haphazardly—one of them she recognizes as the one they bought for their second anniversary, as per Sana’s request to get floral suitcases when they go on a honeymoon one day—along with lots of boxes. She hears rustling noises from their bedroom, and Jihyo didn’t want to know what’s Sana doing inside. Packing other things, she guessed.

“Momo-unnie, can you help me get that box? I can’t reach it. Yes, that one. Thank you.”

The soft and high-pitched voice that used to make Jihyo’s heart flutter now torments her more than ever. Sana’s older sister is here, and that only meant one thing. Sana is really moving out, maybe to her sister’s place or somewhere Jihyo didn’t know. There are lots of possibilities of where Sana’s going, but the brown haired girl’s not interested in knowing. Not today, maybe someday later.

It doesn’t matter to her now, as she’s conflicted whether to slip out from the front door as quiet as possible or gather all the shattered pieces of heart and face Sana in the bedroom. Jihyo preferred the former, but she knows that it’s way better to choose the latter. Running away is not my character, or that’s what she keeps telling herself. And so, she got up, pretend that everything’s going on fine, walked slowly with the aching emptiness inside the confines of her soul, ignored the hurt and shock that flashed through Sana’s face and Momo’s boiling rage, paid no heed to the thick tension that suffocates her, and kneed on the floor to pick up some of Sana’s belongings.

(Jihyo didn’t missed at how she woke up at the couch instead of the cold floor with a blanket over her, again.)

Not even a single word passed the trio’s lips, not even Sana who looks like she’s ready to burst into tears, not even Momo who looks like she’s about to strangle Jihyo and throw off her lifeless body into the sewers. The siblings froze in place, not knowing what to do. Momo glanced over to Sana for her to do something—she knows that she’ll end up releasing all her anger if she did anything, but the said girl only stared at Jihyo’s back. The older of the two decided walk out from the room, patting Sana’s shoulder before she starts carrying some luggage outside.

Sana kept staring, not missing Jihyo’s slight squirm when she picked up something shiny under the bed. It’s still there, how funny, Sana thought. Her engagement ring, the ring she threw off roughly at a rage fit one night. Not a memory she fancies to remember, not one that Jihyo liked to recall either.

How did it come to this?

Jihyo remembers, she bought that ring with a wide smile all over her face, the time she was still sporting those ridiculous bangs and Sana’s hair was still black, not the greyish brown she has now. It was one of the happiest moments of Jihyo’s life, but now it makes her eyes sting whenever the memory went through her mind. Those bright days now felt like dark clouds that looms over her and engulfs her in a bottomless pit of agony, Jihyo felt like she fell into darkness rather love in this mess that is her relationship.

(Maybe she did fell too deep, unable to get out no matter how much she tries.)

Jihyo’s eyes spotted the small carving inside the ring, and she remembers again. Sana always wanted a carving for their rings, with a silly reasoning that couples’ whose initials are carved into their rings will last forever. That time, the younger girl chuckled at her girlfriend’s cute antics and went to the jewellery store the week after—she can never say no to Sana anyway. Jihyo wanted to scoff, where did that forever went? Does forever meant heartbreaks in her life? Jihyo doesn’t want to know the answer to the second question.

(Jihyo also wanted to laugh at herself for being such a fool for Sana.)

“So this is it,” Jihyo muttered, playing with the tiny silver in her hand, “the end, huh?”

“Maybe.”

Sana had a hard time maintaining a blank expression when Jihyo suddenly rose up and turned to face her, it’s like a dam that contained all of her emotions suddenly flows out and ruined every barricade she built through the night. It hurts, seeing how Jihyo stood out like an unfamiliar object inside their half empty bedroom. Sana never knew that Jihyo’s large and soulful eyes can look so lifeless.

Jihyo is hesitating, Sana can see that clearly from the way the younger girl bit her lower lip and how her fingers started to play with her nails unconsciously. Whatever the words that lingers a little bit too long at the tips of Jihyo’s tongue, Sana doesn’t want to hear it, even if it can stick together some of the remnants that was once called her heart. All she knows that hearing Jihyo’s voice, seeing her expressionless fa