Paint Me

MAMAMOO

 

“Wait, remind me again why your mother is getting involved in this?”

 

Kim Yongsun pointed her fork at Jung Wheein, her dimple-cheeked childhood best friend of twenty years. “Because—just like your mom—my mother gets involved in everything.”

 

Wheein sipped her coffee. “Sure,” she said with an amused smile, “but I like to think that my mother draws the line when it comes to who I hire to paint my living room. She might complain about the paint colour and how ‘polar bear’ is sooooo much paler than ‘snowstorm’ and it doesn’t match any of the tiny doilies she’s put around my house, but whatever. Who cares about the painter?”

 

“Apparently my mother does.”

 

Wheein had known Yongsun long enough, having bonded over their mothers’ individual shades of crazy throughout the years, but she’d always thought Mrs. Kim was just a shade stranger. “I don’t remember her throwing a fit when you painted your bedroom last year. Why is your living room so special? Did she tell you why?”

 

It was the moment Yongsun had been waiting for—she placed her fork down and folded her hands. “Let me tell you, my dear, sweet Wheein, what my mother said in the two hours she went on about this painter all the middle-aged women are in love with.”

 

“Oh no.”

 

“He is the most thoughtful, hard-working, patient, most hard-working person she has ever met. And” — she paused for dramatic effect — “he’s sooooo handsome and soooooo sweet and sooooo, soooo single.”

 

“Oh no,” came Wheein’s wide-eyed reply. “Do you think this is because…”

 

“I came out to her? Yes. A million percent, yes.”

 

Wheein bit the inside of her cheek and stirred her coffee. She had been there at the time of her friend’s big coming out announcement, and her mother did not take it well. There was a lot of silence—suppressed tears, shuffling steps out the door, and Mr. Kim’s wee, little voice chasing after his wife. Never in Wheein’s twenty years with the Kim family had she known Mrs. Kim to be quiet, and it came as no surprise that they never spoke of the incident since. Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised her that now, two months later, she decided to set her daughter up.

 

“Maybe...maybe he’ll turn out to be gay?” she offered, “I mean, I don’t know. If he’s single there has to be…”

 

“My mother said it’s because he’s a painter—not even the artistic kind,” Yongsun replied with a finger on her temple. “He’s uneducated, so nobody wants to date him.”

 

“What is this, the nineteenth century? Are we supposed to look for boys to marry so we can take their inheritance because we can’t work?”

 

“And he’s shy,” Yongsun went on. “Shy and sensitive and apparently wealthy because all he does is work.”

 

“At least he sounds...nice?”

 

“Nice.” Yongsun gave her a look and jabbed at the greens in her bowl for emphasis. “Really, Jung Wheein?”

 

Wheein raised her hands. “It’s not the end of the world, unnie, just ignore him. I mean, you don’t even have to really hire him right? Ah, even as I’m saying this it’s starting to sound ridiculous, and—wow—speaking of the She-Dragon, here she comes.” Wheein pointed at the phone at Yongsun’s elbow, lit up to display a picture of a well-dressed woman in her fifties, smiling innocuously next to a potted plant at an obscure yet generic fancy hotel.

 

Yongsun lowered her fork, her heart beating rapidly, as if just entertaining the idea of defying her mother managed to guiltily dredge up every disappointment she’d ever inflicted upon her mother, past, present, and future.

 

Yongsun held the phone in her hand and flashed her big, doey eyes at her friend for an extra ounce of sympathy.

 

Across the table, Wheein pumped a fist and mouthed, “Fighting!”

 

Yongsun squared her shoulders and took a breath, then pressed the green button to answer the call, bracing for impact with squeezed-shut eyes. Her mother, never one to disappoint, blew out her ears with a screech. “Where are you, and why aren’t you home?’ Were the first of too many questions. Wheein grimaced in sympathy, having clearly heard every syllable from across the table, and shook her head as she listened to Yongsun’s desperate monosyllabic replies.

 

At the end of the call, it was as if the entire room was drained of energy.

 

“You know, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life,” Yongsun said, leaning heavily on her fist, “but the worst one was probably giving my mother a key.”

 

---

 

Yongsun trudged up to her door. She envisioned her mother sitting there with the classic look of disapproval aging her otherwise beautiful features, or fussing about her house with new trinkets she’d hate. What she hadn’t expected was to see her mother leaving.

 

“Oh, there you are! Aish, you’re so late,” Mrs. Kim grumbled.

 

“Umma, I was out with Wheein,” Yongsun sighed. “I came as soon as you called.”

 

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m meeting Mrs. Park and Mrs. Lim for tea. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now. Oh! Tell Wheeinie to say hi to her mother for me!”

 

“Wait, umma!” Yongsun cried as her mother hurried past her. If she hadn’t been looking for it in that precise moment, she would’ve almost missed the secret smile quivering at the corner of her mother’s lips just as she hurried past.

 

“Why were you even here?”

 

“Remember to eat!” Her mom’s voice echoed back from around the corner. Then, silence.

 

“I was eating,” Yongsun muttered to herself as she dug into her purse to retrieve her keys. “What the hell was that?”

 

The answer to her question came when she opened her door to see the back of a slim figure in a cap standing in the middle of her living room.

 

The stranger screamed. Something clattered to the floor.

 

And when the moment settled, Yongsun’s wide eyes registered the paint splattered overalls, the paint sample cards scattered on her floor, and, most of all, the slim features, the long hair, and the fallen cap of a woman. But, it couldn’t be—

 

“W-who are you?” Yongsun asked with her hand gripped tight on her purse.

 

The woman raised her hands. “M-Moon Byulyi. Your m-mother hired me to paint your living room.”

 

“What?”

 

The woman lowered her hands carefully. “Did she...not tell you?”

 

“She did, but...you’re...a woman?” Yongsun loosened her grip on her purse.

 

“Yes, well...last I checked, I am,” the strange woman replied with a sheepish half-smile that was far too much to Yongsun’s taste.

 

Yongsun smiled back stiffly. “Will you...excuse me for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

 

In the safety of the bathroom, she sat on the toilet seat, took out her phone, and, dialed her mother’s number. Unsurprisingly, it went straight to voicemail. She could almost picture her triumphant smirk.

 

Then, taking a deep breath, she sent a perfectly calm message to Wheein.

 

OH MY GOD SHE IS A WOMAN.

 

Wheein wrote back instantly. Who???

 

THE PAINTER. THE PAINTER IS NOT A MAN. SHE IS A WOMAN. MY MOTHER IS SETTING ME UP WITH A WOMAN. I DON’T UNDERSTAND!!!

 

She could almost hear Wheein’s hysterical fit of laughter. Are you sure it was YOUR mother?

 

YES. I SAW HER IN THE HALLWAY LOOKING VERY, VERY SUSPICIOUS.

 

What did she say to you in those two hours?? Didn’t she use pronouns?

 

I DON’T KNOW. She just said “this person” and “that person”!!

 

Wow...your mother is...something else, unnie. I guess that means she’s okay with it in the end?

 

I’m so confused. Wheeinie, save me.

 

Is she cute?

 

Yongsun slammed her forehead against her phone when that sheepish, boyish smile came to mind. Yes, she wrote back sullenly.

 

Fifteen minutes and an awkward realization—she’d spent way too much time in the bathroom than what was considered socially acceptable—later, she ambled back into the living room where the painter—Miss Moon Byulyi—stood by her living room couch, holding a swatch of blue in each hand.

 

At the sound of footsteps, she turned and offered yet another unfairly adorable smile. “Welcome back,” she said.

 

Instead of responding like the intelligent person she was, Yongsun’s came out in a near-squawk: “B-blue?”

 

Byulyi’s eyes widened. She glanced down at the navy swatch in her right hand, an adorable blush decorating her cheeks as she turned it around. “You don’t like it?” she asked, her voice pushed slightly higher by nerves. She cleared . “We don’t have to use blue. M-Mrs. Kim thought it might look nice with the, um, white couches.”

 

Yongsun leaned against the doorframe connecting her living room and her bathroom. “Well, um, what do you think?”

 

“Ah...I don’t...really...I’m just a humble painter,” she said, her smile growing a little, albeit forcefully. “I guess...I’ve read somewhere that blue...brings a sense of calm to a room. Maybe sadness too, but, aha, I don’t really think a room can make people feel sad just because of its colour.”

 

Yongsun rubbed her arm. “You...sound like you know a lot?”

 

Byulyi chuckled, and Yongsun can’t help but feel herself drawn to the sound. She kicked herself a little, but doesn’t resist moving a little closer. “It’s a part of my job, I guess. Though people don’t usually ask me for my opinion, so I’d say colours and colour theory are...more of a hobby?”

 

Yongsun idly picked up a book of swatches and splayed it out like a fan. I wonder what she sees when she looks at these? she thought.

 

“Do you have a colour you like, Miss...ah…Sorry, I didn’t realize I didn’t get your name. Your mother talked about you a lot, but it was mostly ‘my daughter this’ and ‘my daughter that’,” Byulyi said with a sheepish smile. “She sure is proud of you, isn’t she?”

 

Yongsun scoffed. “She’s embarrassing is what she is. How did you have the misfortune of meeting her anyway?”

 

“Ah, I do some electrical work too from time to time. I helped her friend, Mrs. Lim, fix a dead outlet once, and she recommended me to Mrs. Kim. I painted her bathroom last week.”

 

Yongsun nodded slowly. “She didn’t tell me that,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. To Byulyi, she asked, “Are all of your clientele middle-aged women?”

 

Byulyi laughed again, and Yongsun had to step back a little before she could admit to herself just how much she liked the sound. “I guess so. I mostly get jobs from word of mouth, so a lot of my clients know each other. It’s not so bad though! Sometimes they feed me. Ah—not that I’m expecting food or anything, Miss…”

 

“Yongsun.”

 

“Miss Yongsun,” she finished with a grin that shot right through the other woman’s heart.

 

“W-well then,” Yongsun said, placing the swatches back on her coffee table with a toss of her hair and desperately trying to maintain her calm facade, “you can do whatever you like. Blue is fine if you feel like it’s right. I don’t really spend a lot of time here anyway. Besides, if my mother likes it...I’d hate to see what she’d do with my place if I don’t do it her way.”

 

Byulyi, with an uncertain shift in her eyes, nodded.

 

“I guess I’ll leave you to it then, and do...some work,” Yongsun muttered. She waved before she could see or hear Byulyi’s response, and retreated into the safety of her bedroom, where she promptly pulled out her phone and threw herself onto her bed like she was fifteen years old and pining over some upperclassman all over again.

 

Wheein, help me, what do I do? She typed furiously.

 

Within seconds, she got a reply. Is she single??? I’m still not over your mom playing gay Cupid for you.

 

I don’t want to give her the satisfaction, but...Whee…she is so….agh!!

 

That better not be a virtual , unnie.

 

Yongsun nearly choked on her own saliva. Don’t be stupid, she hammered out, thanking the stars that Wheein could not see the state of her glowing, red face.

 

I’m curious though. Sneak a picture!

 

That’s—

 

Just then, a knock at her door jolted her awake. She leap off the bed and flung the door open, her face continuing to burn as she suddenly found herself very close to the most handsome grin in the world.

 

“Miss Yongsun,” Byulyi said, bowing. Her heart selfishly raced at the sound of her own name, sending several shades of warm and tingly feelings throughout her body. “I’ve picked this one,” she continued triumphantly in her reserved, ridiculously pleasant voice. She handed Yongsun one of the many paint chips she had been looking at earlier. Yongsun, however, was watching the way her lips were moving when she received it card.

 

“It’s called Blue Eclipse. I think its greyish undertones would add a lot of elegance to the room. If it was a shade darker, it would be perfect for a den or a study. As it is, I think it’s kind of lively. At least, it will make your furniture pop.”

 

Yongsun nodded. “You really like colours, don’t you?” her lips said before her brain had the chance to turn on.

 

Byulyi’s smile faltered for a moment before it was replastered with a polite one. Yongsun couldn’t kick herself harder if she tried. “Ah, did I go on with my nonsense again? S-sorry…well if...if you want, I—”

 

Before Yongsun could make it anymore awkward, she grabbed her arm and shouted, “I’ll take it!”

 

In moments, the slow, sheepish grin returned. “Okay,” Byulyi said quietly. Somehow, she looked like the happiest girl in the world. “I’ll pick up the paint and I’ll b-be back tomorrow then? At eight?”

 

“Y-yeah. Can’t wait,” Yongsun replied in a half-whisper that pushes the other woman a step backwards. Yongsun kicked herself again—why was it so hard to act like a normal person around this woman? It wasn’t like it was a date. She was coming to her house. To work.

 

“I’ll see myself out,” Byulyi said with another small bow. “See you tomorrow, Miss Yongsun.”

 

“B-bye.”

 

She closed her bedroom door and pressed her forehead against it. She was so ed.

 

But a part of her brain tingled with her mother’s smug smile, and she did not want to give her the satisfaction of being right.

 

No, she was not going to let that girl, no matter how cute she is, get to her.

 

---

 

At exactly 7:45 the next morning, Yongsun jolted awake at the sound of her heavy front door croaking open. Fear pinned her beneath the covers as she listened, immediately assuming the worst. Someone had broken in. He could be a thief, she thought frantically, or a murderer. Or a . Or a thieving serial murder-.

 

Her sleep-addled mind shifted through several possible scenarios of how to get out of this situation.

 

One, grab her cellphone from the bedside table as quietly as possible and call the authorities, then wait ten minutes for their arrival and possibly die in that time.

 

Two, scream and wake her neighbours, get discovered then very possibly die in that time.

 

And finally, three: grab the golf club given to her by a useless ex, and beat the bastard to death.

 

She crept out of bed and slowly and stealthily reached into her open closet to wrap her fingers around a dusty, leather-wrapped, handle.

 

Her bare feet padded across her bedroom in three quick steps, then, pressing herself against the door, she attempted to raise the club with one hand. It was heavier than she’d expected, and she did not get very far.

 

Scowling to herself with the promise of future appointments at the gym, she raised the club with both hands and waited.

 

Her living room was quiet.

 

Oh no. What if the thief already left? She ran a list of things in her living room that were of value, but the more she mulled on this the more she began to sweat.

 

She dug the shaft of her club into her shoulder and reached for her door with shaking hands. Then, with a final breath, the cloud around her brain finally lifting from sleep, she squared her shoulders, squeezed her eyes shut, opened her lungs in battle cry, and burst through her bedroom door.

 

The clatter of metal and a long simultaneous scream rattled her windows, and when Yongsun finally opened her eyes, they met the wide-eyed horror of Moon Byulyi, who was sprawled over her plastic-wrapped couch with her hand on her chest, most likely regretting her heinous crime of showing up to work early.

 

“Oh my god,” Yongsun breathed. “I’m so sorry, I...I thought...you were a thief...or something.”

 

Byulyi rolled over off the couch and pushed herself up with a grunt. “I-it’s okay,” she said, her quivering voice betraying exactly the opposite of “okay.”

 

Yongsun bowed frantically, gripping her golf club desperately. “I’m really sorry!”

 

“No, no, no,” Byulyi said with another one of those damn sheepish smiles, “it’s my fault. I should’ve rang the doorbell.”

 

“How did you get in?”

 

Byulyi reached into the pocket of her jeans, paint splattered like her overalls from yesterday, and pulled out a key. “Mrs. Kim gave this to me. She asked me not to wake you. Guess that didn’t work, huh? I’m...really sorry for scaring you.”

 

“It’s...fine,” Yongsun muttered. What the hell was her mother thinking? Thanks to her, she’s gone and embarrassed herself by running out in her pajamas and—

 

Oh god, her pajamas.

 

Yongsun looked down in horror when she realized she was still wearing her sleep clothes: her university T-shirt and her teddy bear underwear. After all, Kim Yongsun lived alone—she didn’t need to wear pants. Oh god, why didn’t she wear pants?

 

Warm embarrassment flooded her entire body.

 

Byulyi’s eyes were on the floor, her cheeks bright red as she scratched the back of her neck.

 

“I’m…” Yongsun said slowly, “going to go back to bed.”

 

“Y-yes, don’t worry about me.”

 

Back in bed, Yongsun buried herself deep into her blankets with a groan. Inside the safety of her cave of shame, she her phone and sent Wheein a defeated message.

 

I thought she was a thief. She saw me in my underwear. My BEAR underwear. My life is over.

 

Wheein, like many on a Saturday morning, was still asleep, leaving her alone to stew in her shame.

 

---

 

Three hours later, after several insensitive messages from her best friend and a twenty-minute pep talk in her bathroom after her shower, Kim Yongsun was ready to take on the world. Well, at least her living room.

 

That was until she heard chatter on the other side of the door. Chatter and laughter. Laughter that didn’t belong to Byulyi, not that she had memorized her cadences or anything.

 

“Miss Yongsun, you have a visitor!” Byulyi said.

 

“Wow, way to make a girl feel like a princess. You should stick around, Miss Byulyi.”

 

Oh god, Yongsun thought, flying to her door, she would recognize that voice anywhere.

 

“How old are you anyway?” The voice continued. “You seem a bit older than me. Ah! You’re younger than Yongsun unnie. Can I call you unnie?”

 

“Jung Wheein!” Yongsun cried, flying out of her bathroom and into the living room, grabbing her friend by the elbow and dragging her out through the front door and into the hallway. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh! Thought you might want to get lunch together,” Wheein replied with a big, innocent smile.

 

“Oh, don’t you pull your stupid dimple smile with me, Miss Wheein,” Yongsun huffed, waving a finger.

 

Wheein simply shrugged. “I had to see it for myself. And honestly, she really is just your type, unnie. That shy, clumsy, begging to be taken care of look in her eyes—”

 

“Oh, shut up. Why are you so rude to your elders? Who raised you?”

 

“You and my crazy mom?” Yongsun slapped her on the arm, prompting a yelp and a cry of, “Abuse!”

 

Byulyi poked her head out from the door. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, everything is fine,” Yongsun replied with a strained smile. “We’re just heading out now.”

 

Byulyi smiled brightly. “Here, don’t forget your keys! Have a good day, Miss Yongsun!”

 

Yongsun caught her keys easily and mumbled something that she hoped would be a similar sentiment despite the lump in . Beside her, Wheein’s quiet snickers blew into full-blown cackles as soon as the door closed. Yongsun cleared and nudged her with a sharp elbow, but Wheein could barely breathe. “God, you should’ve seen your face,” she gasped in between laughter.

 

“I hate you.”

 

---

 

After a gruelling back and forth over bowls of noodles at the restaurant downstairs, Yongsun—having shoved Wheein into a cab and paying the driver to take her as far away as possible—found herself at a loss as she stood outside her apartment lobby.

 

There was a pile of work waiting for her on her desk at home, but was she ready to face the stupidly adorable stranger in her apartment?

 

She was instantly reminded of Wheein’s mouthful of noodles as she cried, “Shut up and talk to her, unnie!” She had slowed down just enough to swallow as she continued, “She’s only here for four days, you know. Even the middle-aged ladies know to seize the day and spoil her while she’s around. Or else I’ll have to break all of your sockets and scratch all of your walls so she has an excuse to come back. Don’t make Wheein turn into the bad guy.”

 

So she let the girl talk her into packing up something extra. She looked down at the pink plastic bag in her hand. What on earth was she doing? Buying a stranger’s affection with food like her mother’s gaggle of friends?

 

She probably has plans for lunch. Maybe...maybe even a date. I mean, surely she wasn’t the first to have a schoolgirl crush on the earnest, young painter.

 

Perhaps she should return to her office for a while.

 

Oh, but her work is upstairs in her bedroom.

 

The security guard watched her quizzically from his desk as she paced around the lobby. “Ms Kim, are you alright?” He asked.

 

She smiled at the old man and gave a polite nod. Of course she was alright. What else could she tell the man? That she was obsessed about a stranger in her apartment? Someone whom she met yesterday no less?

 

Frustrated, she scurried to the elevator to get out of the old man’s line of sight. After all, Byulyi’s food was getting cold, so she shouldn’t be selfish.

 

By the time she got to her apartment, she had done enough breathing exercises in the elevator to

to command some sense of calm. With her most polite smile in place, she pulled out her key and opened her front door.

 

Her eyes widened.

 

All of her furniture had been pushed to the middle of the room, covered in plastic. In the middle of it all—drenched in sweat, a towel tucked into her collar and her shirt sleeves rolled all the way up, revealing the ridiculously defined arms of a woman capable of moving even the heaviest furniture on her own—stood Moon Byulyi, gulping down a bottle of water.

 

God, Yongsun wanted to be that bottle of water.

 

“Oh! Welcome back Miss Yongsun,” Byulyi said, slightly out of breath. “Hope you don’t mind the mess. I’ll move everything back once I get the paint on and everything.”

 

Yongsun nodded stiffly, wishing she could turn off all of her senses so she could remember how to speak.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Byulyi watched her with a slight tilt of her head.

 

Yongsun nodded vigorously. “Yes, um, it’s just—just indigestion. I, uh, brought you some food...if you don’t have any lunch plans. I-I mean if you do I can always just…”

 

Byulyi brightened. “Wow, you didn’t have to do that, Miss Yongsun. That’s very kind. I hope it’s not because I said...”

 

“Oh no, no, I just thought...maybe… Well, I don’t want to ruin any plans you made,” Yongsun murmured, warming up fiercely as she stepped behind her coffee table and took several steps closer. Before her brain could stop her, she was right between her couch and coffee table, close enough to Byulyi to reach out and touch her skin.

 

She resisted the urge. Why was it so hard to behave like a regular human being around this woman? This beautifully sculpted masterpiece of a woman…

 

When Yongsun did not move, Byulyi shyly reached down for the pink bag, their fingers brushing slightly as she thanked her. Yongsun collapsed onto her plastic-covered couch.

 

“I was just going to go to the convenience store to buy some bread,” Byulyi explained, taking a seat beside Yongsun like nothing was wrong. She pulled out the bento box from the bag and turned to Yongsun, melting her on the spot with a big smile. “Thank you again. I hope you don’t find me rude or forward by accepting your gift so readily. Normally, um, despite what I told you...I don’t really like accepting food from my clients because it’s a bit unprofessional. To tell you the truth, I’m just very hungry today, and you seem like a very nice person. You really saved me! So…so, um,” her eyes flickered up to meet Yongsun’s, “I’ll have to repay you next time.”

 

Yongsun nodded as she watched her happily pick up a big piece of gimbap and shove the whole piece inside . She couldn’t help but smile. “It’s no trouble at all,” she said. “You...seem to work really hard, so…”

 

Byulyi shrugged. “I’m just doing my job,” she said, poking her tongue out to a grain of rice off her cheek.

 

“W-well I better go do some work,” Yongsun declared, standing up shakily.

 

Byulyi smiled. “Thanks again.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

---

 

That night, Kim Yongsun, still deep in her blankets in the darkness of the night, rustled awake to the squeak of her bedroom door. Her groggy mind just barely registered the footsteps and the new weight at the foot of her bed. She rolled onto her back with a groan.

 

“Who’s there?” She mumbled, lifting her head and squinting into the darkness.

 

The outline of a strong pair of arms reached for her and planted themselves on either side of her body. She rubbed her eyes and saw, then, a familiar face, far closer to her own than she had anticipated. She fell back with a gasp.

 

“It’s just me.”

 

“Byulyi…?”

 

“Yes,” came the breathy reply in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She hovered over her, centimetres from touching at every curve.

 

“W-what are you doing?”

 

“I finished you living room,” Byulyi replied, planting a small kiss at the crook of her jaw. “I said I’d repay you for lunch, didn’t I?”

 

“W-wha—”

 

“The way you look at me,” she continued, running a palm from the shoulder of Yongsun’s thin T-shirt to her elbow. “The fire, the passion, and the lust—I wish I could paint you red.”

 

Paralyzed by both a magnetic pull to enter her space and a push to escape the sudden attention, Yongsun’s eyes quivered up at the half-shadowed lips above her.

 

A hand dropped from her elbow to the curve of her waist, then tentatively—drawing a quiet gasp from Yongsun’s lips—along the swell of her , the touches so light that Yongsun—eyes closed, teeth scraping her bottom lip—found herself arching for more.

 

Hot breath sensitive neck.

 

Yongsun’s hand reached up to draw her in—to draw it all in. Closer and closer.

 

Her fingers wrapped around her thigh.

 

Then—

 

She was gone.

 

Yongsun’s eyes flew open into darkness, her heart thumping miles per second as reality slowly settled in.

 

Was that...a dream?

 

3:28 AM, read her alarm clock’s taunting white numbers.

 

No… it couldn’t be.

 

She threw the blankets off herself.

 

But it was so hot in here. And it felt so real.

 

She sat up and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Except she had to face the co-star of her little dream in less than five hours.

 

With a final groan, she threw herself back into her pillows and tried to go back to sleep.

 

And maybe not think about the random woman painting her living room.

 

---

 

The next morning, Yongsun wandered into her living room with her forehead in her hands. Groggy from her sleepless night, she did not see the unopened cans of paint near her doorway and managed to catch her foot on one of them, sending her hurtling forward face-first.

 

Fortunately, just as she was anticipating a collision with the cold, hard floor, a strong arm reached out and grabbed her by the waist, inadvertently pulling her into the protective embrace of a warm body.

 

“Oh! Are you okay?”

 

Her mind flashed back to her dream, so realistic it almost felt like deja vu hearing Byulyi’s voice again. Yongsun leapt away from her touch, so fast that her back hit the door frame with a smack and a wince.

 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Fine. Perfect. Everything is...great.”

 

Poor, clueless, handsome Moon Byulyi cocked her head, her cap falling over her eyes for a brief moment before she lifted the brim. The overalls were back today, fitted snugly over a paint-flecked white T-shirt with her sleeves rolled up to show off her toned arms. Her eyes, of course, were soft as ever as she watched her. “Are you sure?” She asked. “You’re kind of red.”

 

Yongsun shook her head and pulled her arms closer around herself. “I’m fine,” she said with a small smile.

 

“Well, um, do you...have a boyfriend? Maybe you should call him so he can take care of you,” Byulyi mumbled, her voice quieter and quieter as she went on.

 

Yongsun studied her pink face and nervous shift of the eyes. Could it be…?

 

Maybe…

 

She could just a little.

 

“I guess I can call him,” Yongsun said carefully. Her heart soared when, just for a moment, she could’ve sworn she saw Byulyi’s smile falter as she ducked her eyes beneath her cap.

 

“Yes, that’s...a good idea,” Byulyi said, as politely as ever.

 

“I guess I can call him,” Yongsun repeated with a triumphant smile, “if he existed.”

 

Byulyi’s eyes flew up, wide beneath her bangs. She fidgeted with her fingers, looking both scared and excited as she tried to parse through their exchange. In the end, she settled for a sweet smile aimed directly to kill. “In that case,” she said shyly, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

 

“R-right.” A comfortable warmth filled Yongsun’s chest. “Thank you.”

 

True to her word, Byulyi did not fail to stop her work and check up on her every hour. Eventually, Yongsun moved her things to the square table in her kitchen, where Byulyi could watch over her while she worked. Of course, Yongsun couldn’t deny that she also—coincidentally—had the perfect vantage point to sneak glances at Byulyi while she worked. The strong lines of her back as she covered her wall with long, languid , the way her shirt would rise just so to reveal the soft skin beneath. What would it be like to just reach out and—just for a moment—

 

Yongsun sighed.

 

Alright, so she was openly staring a little too much. A few times Byulyi turned around, locking their eyes, and from the pinkness creeping into her cheeks in those moments—maybe she wasn’t as subtle as she thought.

 

At noon, Byulyi insisted on buying lunch to repay yesterday’s debt—the very words sending heat to the tips of Yongsun’s ears as she recalled her dream.

 

“Ginseng soup,” she declared, placing a plastic tub in front of Yongsun. “You say I work hard, but you work very hard too. We all need health foods like this once in a while, so you don’t get overworked.”

 

Yongsun smiled politely, unsure how to correct her and explain the true cause of her fatigue.

 

Byulyi returned the smile shyly before turning to her own meal.

 

Thank everything that she wasn’t the prying type.

 

“I think I will be able to finish your living room by tonight,” Byulyi said instead. Yongsun’s attention snapped up from her soup. Oh no. Byulyi’s sheepish expression, tinged with pink, waited expectantly for Yongsun’s reply.

 

Frozen in dread, she simply gaped.

 

“I-I mean...if there’s...nothing else?” Byulyi continued slowly. Expectantly, as if something else was seconds from tipping off the edge of her tongue.

 

“Are you sure?” Yongsun finally said, wrapping her stiff fingers into a fist beneath the table. It’s too soon—a part of her wanted Byulyi to disappear and return her to a world she knew; a part of her wanted her to stay and...and what?

 

This should’ve been simple.

 

“You don’t...have to finish it all today,” Yongsun continued, internally wincing as she hoped Byulyi wouldn’t find her as pleading as her heart intended.

 

Byulyi watched her silently.

 

“W-what?”

 

The younger woman blushed and shook her head, eyes suddenly drawn to the chopsticks in her hand.

 

Maybe, Yongsun thought, there was no use denying her own feelings after all. And this girl—she sure as hell wasn’t going to make a move. So maybe—

 

She opens before she could figure out what to say.

 

“Say, um, if you’re not busy tonight…”

 

Yongsun’s heart plummets down into her stomach and rockets back up.

 

“I’m not,” Yongsun replied a little too quickly.

 

Byulyi smiled brilliantly, somehow shy and more confident at the same time, and Yongsun didn’t mind the way it warmed her. “Do you maybe want to have dinner?” She twirled her chopsticks nervously. “And maybe see a movie? Tonight?”

 

Yongsun swallowed. “Will this be a date?”

 

The question, clearly catching Byulyi off-guard, dropped the chopsticks with a clang from her deft fingers. Her eyes flicked quickly from her food to Yongsun’s face, as if searching for courage to land.

 

Yongsun watched on with an amused turn of the lip.

 

Finally, Byulyi sighed. “Yes. I—I want this to be a date. But...only if you want to,” she said, punctuating the sentence with a sweet smile.

 

Yongsun returned the smile, calm as the ocean depths despite the excitement brewing inside. She opened to say yes—-to say anything at all besides, “Can I kiss you?”

 

It was too late. Well, she just had to roll with it.

 

Byulyi, startled and pink, spluttered something. Yongsun hoped to the universe it was consent before she suddenly drew up her courage, reached across the table, and pulled her forward by the straps of her overalls to—hesitate at the last moment—and plant a light kiss at the corner of her lip.

 

Yongsun smiled sheepishly, letting her go in her embarrassment, but Byulyi didn’t back down. Instead, seemingly emboldened by Yongsun’s nervousness, she tilted her head and teased, “That’s it, Miss Yongsun? Perhaps I should rethink this date.”

 

Yongsun flushed. “W-well you do it then!”

 

She crossed her arms petulantly, fully expecting the other woman to get flustered, to curl her lips in that adorable way and divert them from the topic altogether.

 

She didn’t expect her to push out of her seat and grab the back of her chair.

 

Didn’t expect the brightness to her eyes.

 

Didn’t expect the little smile, bordering on a smirk, as she bent down and gently tilted her chin up.

 

Didn’t expect the slow, tender kiss to the air out of her lungs.

 

For all the nonsense her mother spewed, she certainly didn’t expect the shy woman to be such a damn good kisser.

 

“Wow,” Yongsun murmured breathlessly. “Please say you’ll still go on a date with me.”

 

Byulyi grinned. “I can’t think of anything better.”

 

---

 

“Wait, remind me again why your mother is coming too?”

 

Wheein said, giving herself a once-over in Yongsun’s mirror for the last time. She straightened her dress and parted her hair, then craned back toward her best friend as Yongsun heaved a heavy sigh from her bathroom.

 

“Because,” Yongsun said, pausing to reapply her lipstick, “my mother feels entitled to our relationship. Obviously. Besides, it's just a dinner.”

 

“But it’s your anniversary dinner!” Wheein cried, padding over to the bathroom to give Yongsun a full view of her displeasure. “It’s a private thing, isn’t it?”

 

Yongsun shrugged. “Byul doesn’t seem to mind. She’s good with middle-aged ladies. You know,” Yongsun went on as she put the final touches on her face, “I think my mother has become a lot less insufferable since Byul came around. Besides, she’s done worse than crash our anniversary dinner.”

 

Wheein grimaced. “I don’t even want to know.”

 

Yongsun laughed. “Are you ready?”

 

“I also don’t understand why I have to come too,” Wheein said, shaking her head. “You know I’m no help against dragon lady motherly types.”

 

“Oh, didn’t Byulyi tell you?” Yongsun asked, looking up from her makeup bag in surprise.

 

Wheein narrowed her eyes. “What?”

 

“Guess you’ll find out.” Unable to hide her mischievous grin, Yongsun strode out of her bathroom with a flick of her hair.

 

“Wha—unnie, wait!”

 

“Hey, are you ready?” Byulyi’s called from outside.

 

“Coming!” Yongsun called back.

 

“Unnie—”

 

Ignoring Wheein’s little whine, Yongsun threw open the door with grin, only to be met with a faceful of flowers. She gasped, taking a step back, prompting a laugh from behind the bouquet.

 

“For you, my love,” Byulyi said with a lopsided grin.

 

“Flowers?” Yongsun raised a brow. “Wow, um, thank you.”

 

Byulyi chuckled. “They’re chocolate. I know how much you dislike impractical gifts.”

 

Yongsun’s eyes widened as she re-evaluated the molded chocolate petals. “It really is!” She breathed. “How am I supposed to eat it all?”

 

With a wink, Byulyi half-whispered, “I’ll show you tonight after dinner.”

 

“Unnie, are you done?” Came a snicker from behind Byulyi. So distracted by the massive bouquet, none of them had noticed the presence of a fourth person.

 

“Oh! Sorry,” Byulyi said, sheepishly reaching inside to place the bouquet on shoe cabinet. She gave Yongsun a quick peck on the cheek and stepped back out, then clapped a hand on the shoulder of a young woman with tousled hair and a smoldering stare. “This is Hyejin. I guess you can say she’s my protégé.”

 

“Only part time,” Hyejin explained as she reached out and shook Yongsun’s hand. “Just trying to make some money to get through medical school. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re much prettier in person.”

 

“Wow, you could be a model,” Yongsun returns.

 

Hyejin shrugged. “Tried it. Not nearly as rewarding as some good old fashioned physical labour, in my opinion. And you.” She swept her gaze to Wheein, who had been standing behind Yongsun, watching the newcomer with interest, simply blending in, entirely unprepared for the woman to notice her. Much less take her hand and kiss her fingers without an ounce of embarrassment. “You must be my date,” she said with a predatory grin. “And a beautiful one at that. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

As the four of them piled into Byulyi’s car, Yongsun watched her friend in the rear view mirror, quiet for the first time in her life as Hyejin needled for her attention.

 

“Is Wheeinie going to be okay?” Yongsun whispered to Byulyi. Byulyi expertly wove out of the parking lot and into the street. She glanced at her mirror just as Wheein smiled at something Hyejin said.

 

“She’s going on a triple date with us and your parents. Of course she’s going to be okay.”

 

“Ugh,” Yongsun sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Why is my mother like this? You spoil her too much, Byul.”

 

Byulyi laughed. “I don’t mind. If it weren’t for her, I’d never have met you. So she can crash whatever she wants to. Besides, the real celebration doesn’t start until after dark. With chocolate.”

 

Yongsun slapped her lightly on the shoulder, her cheeks tinged pink. “You’re incorrigible.”

 

Byulyi flashed a toothy grin. “You love it.”

 

“If I knew that underneath that shy, handsome exterior there was a lecherous old man lurking around, I never would have agreed to go on that date with you.”

 

“Oh please, you were begging to go out with me after you got a taste of the great Moon Byulyi,” She retorted, wiggling her eyebrows.

 

Yongsun snorted. “You’re gross.”

 

“Or maybe it was before that,” Byulyi sang happily. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the way you looked at me when we first met. Who’s the lecherous old man now?”

 

“Please, Byul-ah,” Yongsun groaned. “That’s so embarrassing.”

 

“Yeah, honestly,” she continued to tease, “you were so preoccupied with my body that you didn’t even notice I was looking at you too.”

 

At the next red light, Byulyi stopped and intertwined her fingers with Yongsun’s. She kissed the silver band of their promise ring on her middle finger and smiled. “I love you, Miss Yongsun.”

 

Yongsun smiled shyly and twisted their hands slightly to do the same on Byulyi’s finger.

 

“I love you too.”

 

---

Notes: Hello everyone! I'm back with a surprise fic! I've recently moved to Asia and it's been really, really busy. Fortunately, I had this written up halfway and it was too weird to just keep unfinished. Besides, I really needed to decompress. 

I started this story back in August, I believe, because my mom actually did hire a guy to paint our living room, and she would NOT stop talking about what a great guy he is. He's so hard working and single and good looking, etc. I thought it was pretty funny. Thankfully, she didn't try to set me up with him, As I was describing this situation to a friend, I thought man! Things would be different if he was a woman. And so this fic was born. 

Once again, apologies for any sloppiness. I'll come back around and tighten things up in the near future, I hope. 

And thank you for continuing to support me even while I'm away. I've been getting a lot of notifications even though I haven't posted anything in a while. It feels really nice to know that my work is being found. Hope you are all staying happy and healthy this September! 

See you next time!