Jimin’s been in a relationship before, of course. Her first and last being Jeno, yes, but she’s been in it for the past two years. One would think that’s experience enough. Jimin thought so too. Until Winter. Winter never fails to catch her off-guard.

The idea of fake dating sounded nerve wracking, sure. It’s the worst decision one could ever make. Absolutely. Time and time Jimin had wondered, will this even work?

Still. She never considered that it would be embarrassing.

“Baby!”

Jimin stiffened in her seat, heart sinking with dread as she stared with mortification at the girl standing outside the open doorway of her classroom, grinning unmistakably at her.

Everybody in class looked at Jimin, mirroring the horror that she felt.

Oh god. Oh lord. It’s too early for this. It’s 7:40 for goodness sake!

“Babe!” Winter called again, waving her over.

Blood rushed up to her face. She briefly considered pretending not to know her but decided against it. Winter might barge in and do cartwheels if she continued to play dumb. She rushed out to meet her.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, gripping Winter’s shoulders and attempting to push her out of sight. The girl refused to budge.

“That’s not how you greet your girlfriend, Yu.” Winter retorted, somehow managing to sound menacing while keeping the perfect smile on her face.

“It is when said girlfriend makes a scene in front of my entire class.”

“It’s only fair that everybody should know that you’re my baby.”

“This isn’t in the plan.”

Winter cupped her cheek, leaned into her ear, and whispered, “You declared war the moment you decided not to tell me that I had something on my teeth yesterday.” she pulled away and patted her cheek fondly.

“That’s not–”

A student was passing them by to enter the room and Winter quickly cut her off with a loud giggle, “Babe, you’re so funny.” she crooned, “I brought you breakfast. I know you always skip them.” she announced, loud enough for the people sitting in the first row to hear.

A cup of coffee and a paper bag was into Jimin’s hands. It’s heavy.

“I think you got too many.” she said, peeking inside the bag. She’s right. That’s way too many sandwiches.

“You can share it with your friends,” Winter suggested, beaming.

Jimin glared at her. She did not have friends!

“I would distribute them personally but I figured you wouldn’t like that. Would you?” Winter continued and though she’s still smiling, her eyes held a warning that if she pushed enough, she would barge in and hand out pastries while introducing herself as her girlfriend like a politician running for office.

Jimin did not want that. “No, you’re right, I wouldn’t.” she quickly acquiesced. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, babe.” Winter’s smile was disarming, and Jimin fell hard enough into a trance that she didn’t notice her leaning in until soft lips touched her skin, just beside the corner of her own, pressing for a second and then gone. Her fingers twitched.

The muted gasps reminded her that they were doing this for an audience, and she realised then that in that angle, it probably looked like they really kissed.

With the way Winter’s eyes glinted, she definitely did that on purpose.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, slowly walking backwards.

Jimin managed to return her smile, “See you.”

With one last grin, Winter turned and disappeared around the corner.

Jimin’s blood roared in her ears and she let out the breath she was holding. She felt like a protagonist in a movie, and the director had just yelled, cut!

Her classmates were staring at her when she returned to her seat. Some were decent enough to only steal glances. Others were blatantly looking. Jimin tried to ignore the eyes on her and looked at the paper bag with contempt. Somehow, it felt like Winter would find out if she decided to keep it for herself.

Sighing, she turned to the students sitting behind her, because she did not have seatmates.

“Hi,” she started, already feeling stupid, “Do you want some sandwiches? My…” Friend? Girlfriend? No, they’re not supposed to explicitly say that yet. “...Winter told me to share it around.”

They gaped at her. She wondered if they heard her, or if she accidentally started speaking Japanese or Chinese. Being around her friends does that.

Then one of them exclaimed, “‘My Winter’?”

Jimin’s face flushed. She did not intend for it to sound that way. “No! I mean–that’s not what I–sigh, just–just take the bread.”

She spent the entire hour with a fierce blush on her cheeks, agonising over and over about the recent events.

She should’ve just told Winter about the chocolate on her teeth yesterday.

***

She did not think fake dating would be embarrassing. But she didn’t think it would be unsanitary either.

“Mmph!” Jimin squeaked as her face smashed against Winter’s. She pulled back. Winter’s grip around her neck did not allow her to go too far.

“You’re not close enough!” Winter hissed, pulling her closer. Her breath smelled like bubblegum.

“There’s no one here.” Jimin complained, adjusting her hand on the wall.

“Yet.” Winter corrected, “The point is to have people walk in on us.”

Jimin groaned, and for the nth time in the past ten minutes wondered what the hell she was doing in the restroom, cramped in the corner with Winter and pushing her against the wall as she hunched over her figure with her head twisted in an uncomfortable angle.

Winter tugged on her hair.

“Ouch!” she protested, “What’s that for?”

“Just trying to make it y.”

That didn’t make any sense. Jimin yanked her hair out of spite.

“Ow! You’re going to rip my extensions off my scalp!” Winter glared at her, hitting her shoulder.

“I’m just trying to help!”

Winter’s nails dug on her shoulder threateningly. “I can get rid of you right here, right now, and no one would know.”

“Brave of you to assume I wouldn’t be dragging you down with me.” Jimin retorted and she couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of her chest. She doubled over, leaning her forehead on Winter’s temple for support.

They were supposed to be “making out”, for goodness sake. Not try to kill each other.

“What’s so funny?” Winter asked, disgruntled. The hand on Jimin’s shoulder relocated to her waist.

She shook her head, “Nothing.” she said, “This is just ridiculous.”

Winter rolled her eyes, hand on Jimin’s waist snaking to her back, palm running up and down. It left a trail of burning flames. Jimin’s fingers twitched on the wall.

“Just stay still and cooperate, will you? Someone can come in anytime now.”

Jimin’s eyes landed on Winter’s lips. It would be way easier if they just kissed.

“Okay.”

She averted her gaze and redirected her thoughts to lunch. Her stomach rumbled. She shouldn’t have given away Winter’s sandwiches.

“You better treat me to lunch,” she whispered.

“You seem to be forgetting that you’re the reason why we’re doing this in the first place.”

“You’re the one who came up with this.”

“You’re the one who agreed.”

“This was not what I had in mind when you said there would be lots of kissing.”

“Oh? Then just what were you imagining when you heard that?”

The door suddenly opened and Jimin instinctively jumped away from Winter, entire face on fire. A couple of students stood by the door, eyes going from Jimin to Winter and the seconds they took hesitating was the worst 3 seconds of Jimin’s life. They ultimately decided to ignore them and headed to the cubicles.

Winter grinned and gave her a thumbs up when the doors closed. She washed her hands at the sink. Jimin followed and was surprised by her own reflection. Her usually neat hair was all over the place. Her perfectly ironed shirt was crumpled and if she sniffed close enough, she could smell Winter’s scent on top of her own. Standing side by side, she and Winter looked like they just finished wrestling each other (real) but the smudged lipstick Winter had added beforehand gave the idea of something else entirely (not real).

Winter patted down her hair. “I made a donkatsu lunchbox for you,” she said, “You still like donkatsu, don’t you?”

Jimin’s surprised she knew that. She never mentioned it. “You remember.” she replied, getting into character. She knew better than to question Winter’s all-knowing benevolence. “Thanks babe,” she added, fully aware that the other students could hear them. “You’re the best.”

Winter lifted an impressed brow but said nothing, only shoving an elbow into her side. Jimin elbowed her back.

The toilet flushed and Winter quickly faced her, swatting her hands that were trying to tame her crooked collar and taking over the task just as the cubicle door opened. Jimin watched as Winter’s face reassembled into a softer display, complete with a small smile and fluttering lashes.

Watching Winter’s expressions had become a habit. It’s akin to watching the heavens shift and turn. And she had always been enamoured by the skies.

She didn’t notice the students leaving until Winter suddenly dropped her hands.

“Come on,” she said, “We still have time for lunch.”

“Did you really make me a donkatsu lunchbox?” Jimin asked, hopeful.

“Yes, I did.”

Jimin beamed at the thought of her favourite food and eagerly headed out but Winter stopped her.

“Hold on, you still have a bit of…” Winter trailed off, reaching up to cup Jimin’s chin, thumb swiping at the corner of her lips. “There. All clean. Let’s go.”

Jimin followed her outside. Students’ chatter swallowed her up as they walked through the hallways. Her lips tingle with the ghost of a touch.

She tried not to think much about it.

***

Their plan was working well.

Of course it was working well.

They consistently kept the pretence for the next three days, dancing around each other in a deceptive flirtatious routine meant for an audience. It’s an open secret–something that surely everybody knew by now, yet remaining a thinly veiled mystery. Under her instructions, they didn’t disclose anything to anyone yet. Let it stew, she had said. Let them assume and get worked up by their own gossip and when the anticipation peaks–boom! Confirm their suspicions and everyone would immediately eat it up.

I knew it! They would say. I told you so! They would say.

And their work would be done for them in no time.

Minjeong could already see herself lounging on a beach chair, surrounded by heaps and heaps of food and money.

When all this ends she would go on a vacation on a tropical island. She would eat, drink, and be merry and take a break from being a menace to society and just enjoy the fruits of her labour, let the kings build their empires, stock their treasures, and fatten their cattle.

And then she’ll come back and take it all away. Bye-bye.

“You seem to be in a good mood.”

Minjeong snapped out of her trance and realised she’d been smiling at her bowl of bean sprout soup for quite some time now. Ahjumma stood over her, looking amused.

She quickly regained her composure, “Your cooking is just so delicious I couldn’t help but smile.” she smoothly crooned.

“Really?” the woman raised an unconvinced brow, “That didn’t seem to be the case though.” her eyes narrowed, “Minjeong-ah, are you seeing someone?”

Yes.

In fact, she could still see Shin Saimdang printed on those 50,000 bills.

“No, no, I’m not.” she admitted lightheartedly, “What about you? I heard from Minju that the restaurant owner across the street keeps dropping by.”

Ahjumma flushed indignantly, “That old coot just keeps spying on us! Some dirty competitors they are!”

Minjeong tried not to smile. It would probably be disrespectful if she called her cute out loud. “I heard he’s widowed.”

“Yes, and?”

“And you are too.”

“Bah!” Ahjumma admonished her with a poke, “Whatever it is you’re implying, you’re wrong. Whatever, I’m going back to the kitchen. You’re making my blood pressure rise.”

Minjeong chuckled quietly to herself as she marched off and disappeared behind the counter, affection filling up her chest to the brim and threatening to spill. Ahjumma’s cooking was superbly unmatched–she wasn’t lying about that. But the real reason why she kept coming back was the warmth of the elder woman and her food that cradled her gently like a lullaby, soft and secure. Minjeong would compare it to being wrapped in a mother’s arms, except that she could not.

She did not have any experience to use as reference, after all.

She put down her chopsticks and reclined on her seat, eyes landing on a family of three seated not far from her table, zoning in on the child’s happy face.

What was it like, not having to learn how to smile?

Her train of thought broke when her phone buzzed against her thigh. It’s a message from Yu Jimin.

You left campus already? No date today?

They’ve been going out on after school dates since the start of their (pretend) relationship, as promised in their silly little contract and Minjeong was both astonished and horrified to discover that Jeno had never taken Jimin to go karaoke, shopping, or play arcade. It’s a good thing Minjeong did. Jimin turned out to be an avid fan of aimlessly walking around malls to gush over pretty clothes (Minjeong had cheered (pressured) her to buy an entire rack of dresses), an absolute banshee when singing (yelling) along to old songs at the noraebang, and a total ace at dance dance revolution.

As for Jeno…well, Minjeong’s quite sure he’s heard of the rumours surrounding them, but he’s been quiet about it. From the way he averts his eyes whenever Jimin drops Minjeong off in her classes with a hug or a quick kiss on the cheek, Minjeong hypothesised that their target was still in denial. She wondered how he would react once they made their “relationship” public. He better be offended. Minjeong already got her popcorn ready.

Her client seemed to finally be comfortable around her, smiling more and scowling less, even playing along with her jokes and kept up with her teasing–a pleasant surprise and a welcome character development, since Minjeong had been so sure the girl had the personality traits of a rock.

She’s a bit stupid and naive, yes. But she had her redeeming qualities. Her diligence and unwavering efforts. While Minjeong despised the rich, she respected Jimin’s hard work. Her kindness in how she never once cursed Jeno even after everything. Her sincerity above all, shining in those eyes as she expressed gratitude to a conwoman she hired.

You’re actually really nice, you know that?

She shuddered at the memory. She could still recall the gooseflesh on her arms upon hearing those words so genuinely uttered.

Disgusting.

She fanned her flushed face with a hand.

Stupid. Really stupid.

Minjeong respects her.

Maybe she now understands why even someone like Yizhuo became so attached and protective.

Minjeong wasn’t going to be like her though. Even if she’d want to, she had long lost the capacity to genuinely feel.

She was sure about one thing though: she’d do whatever it takes for this operation to be a success.

But not without a little teasing.

We already had 3 dates this week. Can’t get enough of me, I see

Jimin’s reply came quick. Never mind. I’m going home.

Minjeong grinned. Text me when you arrive. I’m coming over. Do you like carbonara tteokbokki?

Her phone rang a little after she hit send, making her blink with a start.

“Do you really miss me that much?” she greeted dryly.

“I’m driving,” Jimin briefly explained, “You’re coming over?”

“Yep. Can’t wait to see me?”

“I’m going to take a while.” Jimin continued, completely ignoring her quip. She’s gotten the hang of dealing with her now. “I have to drop by the hospital first.”

Minjeong’s mouth forms an ‘o’. It’s quite admirable, how Jimin never missed a day. Even when they went on dates, she always made sure to go to the hospital. Minjeong would always wait for her in her car while Jimin goes to see her mother, not wanting to intrude. She already heard of the chairwoman’s accident of course. There’s nothing about AE corporation that she didn’t know about, but it’s surprising to witness such devotion coming from the AE daughter. The things she heard about the chairwoman didn’t exactly give off the best mommy of the year energy. Perhaps she was a good mother, despite being a notorious perfectionist of a businesswoman.

Minjeong considered asking Jimin herself but decided against it. It’s only a mild curiosity. It’s not like she cares, or anything like that.

“Okay then. Send my regards to the chairwoman.” she settled on saying, blowing a raspberry over the phone.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Don’t fret. You will.”

She laughed at Jimin’s exasperated groan before the call ended, an abrupt cut on the latter’s end. Minjeong sat back. The restaurant was almost empty now save for her, the family across the room, and the bus driver three tables to her left. A television blared the afternoon’s news by the cashier counter where Minju, Ahjumma’s pretty granddaughter, was stationed.

Their eyes met. Minjeong offered a smile. Minju smiled back, a faint dusting of pink across her cheeks. Minjeong would’ve beckoned her over to chat but she knew the girl wasn’t allowed to leave her post. She gestured to the empty dishes before her instead and flashed a thumbs up. Minju grinned and executed a tiny bow.

“Navis Electronics on Monday reported asset sale gains helped lift profit to 76% this year,”

Minjeong shifted her attention to the television, smile fading.

“In its biggest-ever annual gain, net profit rose to 113.5 billion won. Its 3.2% growth from last year’s surge marked the impact of asset sales in the wake of South Korea sanctions.”

She quietly watched as the broadcast showed off the company’s building, all grand and majestic, with glass panels polished and gleaming. Fingers tapped the table, inconsistent and scattered in contrast to the static in her ears.

Someday, she’ll pull that place apart. Brick by brick. Until nothing is left but dust and ashes and she would be the hurricane that would scatter those pathetic powdered remnants so it could never ever be put back together again.

Someday.

Minjeong couldn’t wait to watch them burn.

***

I’m going to break into your apartment.

Jimin sighed upon reading Winter’s recent text message, a bit alarmed that her initial reaction was exasperated, instead of threatened. The ECG machine’s consistent beeps had been relaxing, until her ringtone joined in. She cast a lingering glance at her unconscious mother as though she might be watching, and typed a reply.

You do know you can just ask me for the passcode, right?

Yeah 1140 is hardly creative. C’mon, give the thieves a little challenge. Where’s the laser security system?? The fire-breathing dragon??? The three-headed dog????

Jimin pinched the bridge of her nose. How did you know my passcode

It’s your birthday. Duh. It doesn’t take Einstein to guess that .

But it’s backwards

BuT iT’s BaCKwArDS

Like that’s supposed to achieve something

Jimin tore her eyes away from her phone and took deep, calming breaths. She had to, if she did not want to join her mother in the hospital. Interacting with Winter gave her hypertension. But she looked up ‘laser security system installation’ anyway.

She was in the middle of scrolling through installation rates when a knock sounded and the door opened. Jimin didn’t bother turning to see the newcomer. Her step-father never visits, as it pains him to see the love of his life in this state, and the nurses had just finished their rounds. It could only be–

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” The woman in scrubs came to stand beside her, hands in pockets, smelling sharply like antiseptics.

“Dr. Jeon,” she acknowledged with a nod. “No, you’re not interrupting anything. Just a possible purchase of an unnecessary security system.”

The neurosurgeon lifted a brow, “Security system? Is there anything I should be worried about?”

Jimin waved her worry away. “It’s nothing.”

Dr. Jeon looked uncertain but acquiesced, “If you say so.” she said, “You’re sitting a little too far, don’t you think?”

Jimin took account of her seat, right by the foot of her mother’s bed. Just as it always had been. “This is fine.” she decided, “I assume you’re finished with your surgery?”

“Yes, just now.” Dr. Jeon stretched her neck. Jimin heard something crack.

“You should be resting. You were in there for, what, three hours?”

“Four, actually. I had to perform a craniotomy to remove a tumour. It was benign, but we managed to safely remove all of the tumour.”

For a moment, only the beeps of the heart rate monitor could be heard in the room. Dr. Jeon’s presence was familiar and comfortable. Jimin didn’t mind the company. She let her stay.

“Chairwoman Yu, your daughter’s visiting again,” Dr. Jeon suddenly spoke, aloud and amicably, directed to the woman on the bed. “You’re lucky to have such a devout child.”

She then regarded her, nodding at her mother, “She can hear you, you know. I always tell you to talk to her from time to time but you never do. It can help awaken the unconscious brain and speed up her recovery.”

Jimin shifted on her seat, “I…don’t have anything to say.”

“Nonsense. We all have something to say.” Dr. Jeon said, “Try talking about your day. Anything.”

Jimin swallowed. What would she even say? That she’s dating a criminal? Oh, but there’s a twist! It’s all just an elaborate plan to get her boyfriend back again!

Her mother would be so disappointed.

You had one job, she could already imagine her mother saying, you just had to keep that boy wrapped around your finger and you couldn’t even do that?

Dr. Jeon moved to sit on her mother’s bedside when she remained quiet. “It seems your daughter is shy, ma’am.” she told the unconscious woman, taking her limp arm and started massaging. “Sensory stimulation of comatose patients is an important nursing intervention, I always remind you that, don’t I?” she told Jimin. “Massage is one of the most important stimulations for increasing their level of consciousness. Studies show that it can decrease the patient’s vital signs, which can be the indicator of their relaxation and decreasing stress. Besides, you wouldn’t want her to be all stiff when she wakes up, would you?”

Jimin perked up, “You think she’ll wake up?”

Dr. Jeon gave her a rueful smile. “Of course.” she looked away, down to her patient, “That’s what we all hope for. And it’s all we can do right now. To never stop believing.”

Jimin sighed, slumping. What would happen if her mother woke up? What would she do when she finds out everything Jimin had done in the past couple of weeks?

Breaking up with Jeno, bailing out a criminal and being in a pretend relationship with her and losing millions of won to said woman…

Jimin shivered. She’d be disowned.

“You’re early today.” Dr. Jeon noted, moving to massage her mother’s legs. Behind her, the late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows, just a minute away from setting. “No dinner dates?”

“He broke up with me.”

“Oh.”

Dr. Jeon didn’t pry after that, just quietly staying with her until she got paged to the ER. Jimin shifted uncomfortably in her seat when she left, suddenly hyper aware of her mother’s presence in the room.

The rhythmic beats from the machine were reassuring. It meant that her mother was alive. Unconscious for a very long time, but alive.

She watched the steady rise and fall of her mother’s chest, the many wires and tubes connected to her now frail body, keeping her alive but not quite.

Even after all this time, it still feels…strange. Jimin didn’t think she’d ever get used to seeing the powerful woman she had always looked up to be in such a helpless state.

Carefully, she dragged her seat closer and gingerly took her mother’s hand in her own. They’re soft. A little bony and roughened by age, but soft. Jimin committed it to memory. Something to look back to and cherish.

She pressed on pressure points Dr. Jeon had told her about, relishing on the feeling of the warm skin against hers–a sign of life. Her mother was still alive. She’s going to wake up. She will.

All her feelings she channelled into her touch, hoping that her mother could feel it. Feel her hope and longing. Her trepidation and anxiety. How lost and uncertain she was, being left alone in the raging storms that is the world with her only beacon dimmed and flickering and threatening to completely turn black.

She massaged in earnest, trying to make up for all those times she had refused to, and only said one thing before she took her leave as the sun set over the horizon.

“Winter sends her regards.”

Jimin half-expected a three-headed dog to greet her when she got back to her apartment. But what she walked into was a delicious aroma that only got stronger as she entered further inside.

She found Winter in her kitchen, taking something out of the microwave. The girl barely spared her a glance, too focused on transferring the food from the foil to a plate.

“What’s that?” Jimin asked, swinging her bag on the counter.

“Carbonara tteokbokki.” Winter promptly answered. She gave her a look, a quick once over, “Go change your clothes and bring drinks to the living room. I found something for us to watch.”

She didn’t wait for Jimin to reply, heading straight to the couch with a dish filled with piping hot carbonara. There wasn’t any choice. Jimin made a quick change of clothes, from stifling jeans to comfortable tracksuit pants and an oversized t-shirt, making a detour to grab 2 cans of soda from the fridge before joining Winter at the living room.

“I have coursework to do.” she said as she took a seat on one end of the sofa while Winter lounged on the other.

“I’m quite sure that shouldn’t be what you’re doing when your girlfriend’s over,” Winter replied, tone so dry Jimin completely missed the sensual implication. “Indulge me for a while. I’ll be out of your hair when we finish eating.”

Jimin relented, because something felt off about Winter right now. She wasn’t sure what, but she could feel an animosity coming off her in waves. She decided to leave her alone to her brooding and helped herself with the rice cakes.

A satisfied hum escaped her lips, “This is so good. Did you cook this?”

Winter snorted, “Nah, I got it from the same place I got your lunchboxes–”

“Those weren’t homemade?!” Jimin exclaimed, a little betrayed

“Of course not. But it’s good, isn't it? I ordered these somewhere. They offer a 20% discount on weekends, and if you know how to talk, they’ll give you more side dishes too.” the way Winter’s eyes gleamed when she talked about food was amusing, “Do you like it? Hold on, I’ll send you their contact information.”

Jimin’s phone buzzed. Winter had sent the restaurant’s contact number, website link, and even their location. Jimin saved it. Even took a screenshot. It was delicious.

They continue eating in silence. Winter’s on her phone again, probably looking up more restaurants, completely disregarding the show on TV that she apparently found for them to watch (it’s one of those animal documentaries on Nat Geo). Jimin tried to focus on what the droning voice was saying about butterflies but thoughts kept nagging her mind.

Something’s not right. She turned to Winter who’s still on her phone in an attempt to figure out what it was. The girl was sitting a bit further than an arm’s reach when she would usually sit flush beside Jimin like she did not know the concept of personal space.

“Why are you so far away?” she found herself asking.

Winter didn’t even look up from her device. “We’re alone right now. The contract,” she reminded, “Besides, isn’t it nice to have a bit of space for yourself every once in a while?”

Jimin turned to the television to hide her frown. She flexed her hand. Open. Close. Clutching empty air.

Whatever. She resumed stuffing her face with food with much more gusto than before.

“Black witches are the largest of the noctuid moths, the diverse family that represents nearly 25% of moth diversity in North America. ually dimorphic, females are slightly larger, paler in color, and show a line of light pinkish and white scalloped bands across the wings.”

Jimin’s eyes snapped to the television in attention. A moth fluttered on screen, crisp dark wings covered with hypnotising patterns.

“In the tropics and extreme southern regions of the United States including the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and southern Florida, black witch moths can be active throughout the year.”

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Jimin turned to Winter in surprise. The girl had set her phone aside to watch the documentary.

“You think they’re pretty?” Jimin asked, incredulous.

Winter’s brows creased, eyes shifting from the screen to meet hers, “You don’t think so?”

“Moths are the symbol of darkness and death in some cultures. A bad omen.” Jimin argued, “Nothing beautiful about that.”

Winter scoffed, turning back to the TV. Lights danced on her skin, bouncing back on her eyes, fluttering like moth wings. Her lashes had always been so long. Jimin absently wondered if they’re falsies.

“Those are merely what were forced upon them by men,” Winter said, voice low. “How others perceive you doesn’t have to be necessarily true, don’t you agree? Regardless of what they symbolise, or what people expect them to be, I still think they’re beautiful.”

Their eyes met and Jimin stilled. Winter’s gaze held that familiar intensity that pierced past skin and tore through tendons and crushed through bones, gnawing on the very core of her flesh and burning. An all-consuming fire burning it all away. Her eyes are ablaze, and moths have always been attracted to brightness.

Jimin looked away. Her heart felt like bursting out of her chest. The plate between them had long been empty. She clenched her jaw.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Winter didn’t move for a moment, staring at Jimin with brows furrowed, like she didn’t expect to be kicked out so soon. She looked away, making sure her hair covered her face.

“Okay” Winter finally got up from her seat. Jimin stared at her retreating back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget: it’s your turn to get me breakfast.” with that, she’s out of Jimin’s apartment, leaving her with the monotone of the documentary narrator.

“For some cultures, the presence of a black witch moth is especially ominous.” the narrator said, “But for others, a witch encounter is a fortunate foreshadowing.”

Jimin unlocked her phone after some time of staring at nothing and started typing on the search engine.

Fire-breathing dragon for sale