Hyuna closed the gap between them and gently pressed her lips to Hyemi’s, tentatively finding a rhythm as they kissed each other back and with more fervor. They stayed there kissing and kissing and it was the warmest feeling they’d ever felt, Hyemi’s hand climbing her spine pulling her closer and Hyuna’s fingers falling down Hyemi’s neck stopping at the top of the younger’s collarbone, gripping the thin cotton material. When suddenly she separated from Hyemi’s, rubbing their foreheads together before whispering,

“I forgot to breath,” small, short, exhausted pants leaving her as her head drooped down to Hyemi’s shoulder, finding it’s home in the crook of her neck, and Hyemi held her, cradled her, instinctively keeping her close enough that it seemed they’d never physically part from each other again.

“…so did I,” she agreed, tucking stray strands behind the older’s ear, as Hyuna looked up at her, their eyes meeting…they had connected just by looking at each other, and it was at this moment in time, at this very distinct passing, that Hyuna had realized not only had she fallen in love with Hyemi, but that she was destined to love her, to care for her, to look into these earthy orbs for the rest of her life.

And she smiled, a small laugh escaping her, her smile growing bigger when Hyemi’s milky teeth became visible from her own laughter.

“I love you,” Hyemi said plainly. There was no declaration, no romanticism, nothing like the silver-screen or a hard-bound book. She had said it as plainly as she felt it; an obvious feeling.

Hyuna’s body softened at those three words and before Hyemi could ask if she loved her back, Hyuna’s long fingers had framed Hyemi’s cheeks, touching them as surely as she felt her own feelings for the younger girl. She leaned her head forward and kissed her, softly, and backed away from that milky smile, watching her eyes flutter open.

 “I love you, Hyemi.”