After her friends left, Bomi stayed at the balcony, enduring the cold breeze of the last few days of fall. She was now down to her fourth bottle of beer. As she was observing the condensation of droplets, her eyes fell on Chorong at the patio. Judging from the scattered bottles at her feet, she must have had more to drink.

About an hour ago…

“Chorong-unnie?” Eunji peered at the kitchen as she came out of Bomi’s room.

“Oh. Eunji-yah, are you leaving?” She tried to sound as calm and casual as possible, keeping herself busy with the dishes.

Before approaching Chorong, Eunji asked her wife to wait in the car as she wanted to talk to their unnie alone. “Unnie,” she whispered, placing her hand on Chorong’s shoulder, “I know we just got acquainted, and this would sound quite unusual.” The older girl nodded for Eunji to go on. “Bomi,” she sighed, lowering her hand, “Bomi has been having a hard time. And to be honest, it’s the first time in years since we’ve seen her this playful that it was almost surreal for us.” Chorong, who was busy scrubbing the last piece of china since Eunji got in, didn’t respond. “What I’m trying to say is,” she urged, turning Chorong to face her, “there’s a reason why your paths have crossed.”

“What do you want me to do then?” Chorong didn’t intend for it to come out cold and stern but what could she possibly do?

“I’m not blind, unnie. The look in your eyes tells me that something’s pulling you towards her.” Looking at Chorong with desperate eyes, she pleaded “Please, just try to get to know her more and see what happens.”

Chorong finished the dishes the moment Eunji was out the door and she started drowning herself with bottles of beer with Eunji’s words resounding in her ears: from Bomi’s tragedy to Eunji’s request. About a hundred cicadas were humming that night, but her thoughts were loud enough to drown them out. She allowed her mind to fall on mundane things, hoping she could avoid having a headache from too much thoughts and alcohol. She never knew there were cicadas in the city but here they are. As she never knew she’d be falling in love with a woman yet here she is.

However, love seems to be farfetched, right? She had only been with Bomi for two weeks, no one could fall in love that fast. For her, falling in love is calculated and strategic. The right neurotransmitters should be triggered to certain levels, and it would require several runs of trial and error, also known as an in-depth interaction with the other person. It’s not like she doesn’t believe in it. It’s just that for her, love at first sight and the likes are risky and unstable. It’s a hit and miss sort of thing, and she just couldn’t afford to take the risk and miss. Although sometimes, she couldn’t help but envy those who took a shot and made it through.

“Aren’t you cold?” Bomi knew the sweater that Chorong was wearing is useless on cold nights like this, it was hers after all. Her late wife bought it in a popup stall at a fair when Bomi said she was freezing. It didn’t help her then but the thought of Hani always taking care of her warmed her heart enough to endure the cold weather.

It’s a good thing she’s all covered up because Chorong was having goosebumps all over. She was definitely cold, even with alcohol in her system. “No, I’m good.” She lied.

Bomi’s lips broke into a smile. That’s what she used to say. Nonetheless, she got a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around Chorong, taking a seat beside her. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” nodding at the bottles. She already finished six on her own.

She could feel Bomi’s eyes on her, watching her with anticipation. She chugged down her seventh bottle and smacked her lips. “Nah, I have a surprisingly high tolerance.” She replied, opening two bottles and handed one to Bomi. The short-haired girl hesitated. “Why? You don’t drink?” she challenged.

“I do.” She reached for the bottle and her hand brushed against Chorong. It was electrifying, and it scares her. “But I’ve already reached my limit. Anything beyond that is bad news.” The truth is, she used to drink a lot with her wife and she always ended up with a nasty hangover that her wife would have to take extra care of her. When Hani passed away, she almost doubled her alcohol intake resulting to a worse aftermath; but then she had to deal with it on her own. That’s when she realized she’d been relying too much on her wife that she couldn’t even take care of her own hangover. She never got the chance to take care of her wife the same way until it was too late.

“It’s okay to let yourself have a bit more sometimes. You shouldn’t hold back. Especially if it makes your heart at ease.” Chorong blurted out. She wasn’t sure if she’s talking to Bomi or herself.

Bomi didn’t know how to respond and took a swig on her bottle instead.

Each lost in their own thoughts with only the cicadas breaking the silence. They both have things in their mind they’d want to get out in the open but neither knew how to start or if it’s even the right time to say such things. It’s been a while since Chorong finished her eighth bottle but Bomi hasn’t said anything yet. Not that she was waiting for anything, really. It was sort of an awkward intimate moment and she was afraid to break it.

“Your room was supposed to be a nursery.” Bomi whispered. She didn’t exactly know why she’s opening up to Chorong about these things out of the blue, but she felt like the older girl should know, like she owed her at least this much. She laid herself on the cold, wooden floor of the patio and began, “My wife and I had been inseparable since high school. She was only a year older but she spoiled me like a little girl.” She smiled fondly. “We did everything together. We went everywhere together. To be honest, I can’t remember a time when she’s not with me. I can’t even pinpoint the exact time I fell in love with her.”

Chorong had no idea why she’s been given the burden of hearing this from Bomi herself. Having to hear it from Eunji was hard enough, yet she found herself wondering about how Bomi was like when she was young, how bubbly she must have been. Somehow she felt a sudden desire to know more about the girl’s past, but then that would mean she’d hear more about Hani as well. She got herself on the floor as well, staring at the stars, wondering why the words from Bomi’s lips were bringing such unexplainable pain to her heart.

“Maybe because I didn’t.” Bomi continued. She never told anyone about what she really felt because all her friends grew up with them. They’ve always believed that Bomi and Hani were meant for each other. Maybe that’s why opening up to Chorong was easier. She never knew their history, she never saw her with Hani; she’s an outsider. Thus Bomi felt she could be completely honest with her. “Sometimes I still think that the reason why Hani and I ended up together was because it was easier that way. She gave me everything I wanted and more. She was always taking care of me and putting me first before everything else. All our friends were rooting for us, we were comfortable with each other, we were there for each other through thick and thin, and we knew each other better than we know ourselves. It was how it was supposed to be, right?” Bomi let the words flow out of her lips, she had been running this monologue over and over again for years in her head, having no one to vent out to. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved her. I still do.”

Those last words might have caused one of Chorong’s heartstrings to snap, but she remained still, w