Schedules jotted down to a T, both for group activities and her own, Yves can’t function without a goal to follow through.

Jinsoul knows this.

Doesn’t change the fact that Jinsoul still finds it difficult to keep up with. And frustrating.

“I’m heading out,”

7 PM evening run; Jinsoul recalls the sticky note pasted on the wall in YYXY’s room— along with a plethora of others across the edges of Yves’ bunk bed.

She’s sure Olivia Hye doesn’t appreciate the constant reminders of practices being the first thing to greet her in the morning and the last image ingrained deeper than any courteous “goodnight”.

“Be careful out there,” Haseul maintains leadership behind closed doors with a pat on Yves’ shoulder and a caring tug to straighten out her collar, “It’s getting dark so watch where you’re going, okay?”

Yves smiles like she always does — quiet, reassuring, and a tad too charming.

Jinsoul turns away so she doesn’t add onto the concern already tumbling on the tip of her tongue; not even a whisper of hurry back, or wear something warmer, at least.

This way, Yves won’t have to hear her voice tremble like every other time, heart always too eager to slip out between her teeth.

“You worry too much,” Yves chuckles, tends to make things sound easy, so carefree and laidback. Jinsoul can picture the way Yves’ eyes crinkle whenever she laughs. “I’ll be back soon.”

Jinsoul doesn’t chime in, even when she knows the slight pause before the door creaks shut is because Yves’ waiting for something else, too.

But Jinsoul is stubborn and she’s not going to be the first one to remind her of something so obvious.

The lock clicks as loud as the words that stay stuck in Jinsoul’s head.

—

Morning run, 7 AM. Vocal practice, 8 AM. Dance practice, 9 AM. Gym, 10 AM. Take Chaewon out to the restaurant she’s been wanting to go to, 11:30 AM. And so on.

Jinsoul stares at the notebook sprawled open on Yves’ bed, decorated with more sticky notes and colorful tabs and a variety of highlights.

Yellow - priority

Blue - last minute addition

Green - cancelled

There’s a blaring lack of green and way too many yellow.

It’s even more worrying to know that anything related to food or sleep - or just the act of caring for herself, has little importance compared to long-hour events.

A slim waist can’t pull her through anything else beyond skinny jeans and a tight-fitted shirt.

But it's more disappointing to know that she, herself, hasn't even made it to the list.

“Jinsoul?”

Doesn’t change the fact that Yves in a top too tiny is still a blessing to see. Always a sight for sore eyes.

Jinsoul flicks at a red tab labeled ‘important’; fiddles with the edges, ponders whether to peel it off because it’s embarrassing to know that she’s jealous of a schedule that somehow managed to be highlighted as priority and not— not her.

“Looks like you’re busy,” Jinsoul says, even when complaints pile up on her tongue.

11:20 AM.

Pitter patter of feet thumping the floor, a flicker of blonde hair and a fading “Can’t wait to eat everything!” echoes down the hall.

Yves comes up beside her, plucks a pen off her desk to ink in a check mark next to her completed list of duties for the day.

“Chae wouldn’t shut up about it, so I figured why not.”

Jinsoul is still sorely aware of something lacking. She doesn’t mention it.

“Have fun,”

“Thanks, we will.” A pause, “Or at least, I know Chae’s stomach will.”

When Yves leaves with a tiny bundle of blonde carrying too much energy, Jinsoul flips through the pages of Yves’ weekly itinerary, tugging at a new red tab labeled ‘important’ and scribbling in a time and duty to be fulfilled for the night, streaking yellow highlights across it.

—

Her door clicks open.

Jinsoul’s already snug in her blankets, knows that Kim Lip and Choerry won’t be up for another while, dead to any sound. Not surprising that practice drained them of all their energy.

The bed dips beside her; Jinsoul doesn’t bother opening her eyes - she’s already smug knowing it worked.

She feels warmth tickle her lips.

Yves chuckles against , soft and quiet, strands of hair fluttering against Jinsoul’s neck and forehead and cheeks and nose— but it doesn’t really matter; nothing makes her smile more than the kiss Yves finally lets her have.

“You never go to bed this early,” she tastes of apples and caramel, “...I’m sorry, you just— you make me so nervous; I’ve never done this, before.”

Jinsoul curls a hand behind Yves' neck, scratching lightly at the baby hairs, grinning when Yves sighs like the nerves have finally left her.

“To think it took writing in your planner to get you to finally come and kiss me,” Jinsoul huffs, a laugh breaking out too easily that she can’t even pretend to be mad. “Don’t tell me that I’ll have to write in it again, tomorrow.”

Yves seals her promise of “hopefully not until two weeks later” with a giggle and another soft kiss.

—

The next time she flips through Yves’ overly-detailed and colorful itinerary, her name— and every version of it, is everywhere:

Jung Jinsoul. Jindori. Soulie. Mine.

They’re prioritized with a yellow highlighter, marked down under the red tab first before everything else - along with a little note and three asterisks.

(Kiss her goodnight— and every night after. Don’t make her remind you, you idiot. This includes mornings, too. And any time in between; as long as she wants you to. Who cares if this is your first time having a girlfriend— she’s going to be your last, so stop being shy! ***)

Jinsoul swallows down the laughter bubbling in , feels her chest swell with warmth. Yves is sometimes too hard on herself.

She takes a pen from Yves’ desk to scribble in words she’s too embarrassed to say out loud.

(Thank you for being my first. Hopefully you’ll be my last, too.

Love,

Jung Jinsoul. Jindori. Soulie. Yours.)