Yeri loves winter.

Loneliness clings to her like second skin, insulating her with cold that seeps into the depths of her soul, even when she desperately prays for warmth to thaw away the ice that she knows is beginning to form over her heart.

Just like her mother’s.

Her life is routine, an endless loop that she has no idea how to break away from, trapped on a nightmare ferris wheel at a deserted carnival.

She’s not sure who she is anymore, carrying two identities that clash constantly so both chip away at the sides, eventually beginning to fit together like two puzzle pieces that weren’t meant for each other.

Kim Yeri.

Bae Yerim.

One, the heir to Korea’s largest entertainment company, a young woman befitting of the title of a CEO.

The other, nothing but a child, with wants and desires just like anyone else.

But that right had been stripped away from her years ago, abruptly into a role meant and suited for someone else, and Yeri had found herself suffocating.

And she had been continuously suffocating since then.

Until recently.

Yeri had been sitting in a park, the clock ticking to ten, the sun having bled into darkness long ago, staring into space and imagining for just that moment that she had nothing better to do.

She hadn’t expected the interruption.

“Kid like you shouldn’t be out here this late.”

The voice had been too light to cause alarm, even at night, and her gaze had caught strands of fiery red before she’d found herself looking up into one of the most prominent faces of her future company.

“A celebrity such as you should not be out at all.”

The retort had slipped from between her lips, as easy as breathing, and Yeri had seen a spark of mischievous amusement glinting within the depths of bright eyes.

Yeri had been able to understand why the woman was a model.

She had the elegance of a swan and the formidability of a wild cat, slender limbs and pretty features making up a woman of character and beauty.

The red of her hair only proved to make her stand out more than she already would have without it.

She was a familiar face to her, even if Yeri was a complete stranger in her eyes, though the woman was admittedly a different persona up close and personal.

“So you know me.”

“Who doesn’t in this day and age?”

She remembers how the woman’s expression had scrunched in thought, eyes narrowing as if attempting to define something.

“You remind me of someone. Especially the way you talk.”

Yeri had been bundled up in a turtleneck sweater and beige trenchcoat, the woman kicking it up a notch with similar wear, a parka to drape over slim shoulders instead.

“Mind if I sit?”

“I don’t believe I own this bench.”

The woman had laughed, raucous and boisterous in a way that it wasn’t when she was on screen, but Yeri remembers thinking that she preferred the one in front of her - real and raw.

It was cold enough that their breaths steamed out from their lips as if they were kettles put on a stove to boil, but Yeri had never minded the exterior cold, and she’d always wondered if it was because she was already iced on the inside.

The night was fairly dark, the moon only a small crescent hanging in the sky, but the soft yellow glow of nearby lamplights made it easy to see and pleasant to the eyes.

“So, really, what are you doing out here this late? Shouldn’t you be studying or something? You are a kid, aren’t you?”

Yeri watched the swaying of the pitifully empty tree branches, void of leaves, finding it all ironically cruel.

“I suppose so. I should be home doing homework until the sun comes up, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, if that’s how you wanna take it. I meant that you should be eating or sleeping or something, watching t.v. I don’t know. Whatever it is you kids do these days.”

“You aren’t old enough to be talking like that.”

The woman had snorted, tilting her head back and allowing her hair to flow away from her face, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, physical perfection in its best form.

“Trust me, kid. It sure as hell feels like it.”

“Are you going to continue calling me ‘kid’ or would you like to know my name?”

“That’s not your name?”

There was a friendly, teasing glint to the woman’s eyes when she tilted her head just enough to glance at her, and Yeri found the corners of her lips curling into a small smile.

“It’s . . . Yerim. Bae Yerim. It’s nice to meet you - .”

“Call me Sooyoung. Joy is for people I don’t feel like knowing.”

Yeri had tilted her head at the statement, brows furrowing just slightly at the declaration.

“And you feel like getting to know me?”

“You seem like a good kid. Yerim, right? Not crazy or shallow like most of the kids I see around. You’re alright. Better than most adults, even. For one thing, you knew I was a celebrity, but that didn’t seem to bother you.”

“For one, I’m not exactly a child. I’m eighteen. And for another, you are a person, too. Simply with a larger amount of success than most. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be treated like anyone else.”

The woman had been silent for a period of time that was concerning in an active conversation, and Yerim had looked over to see something akin to shock painted across eloquent features.

It was understandable, celebrities were treated like objects in the public at best, and despite what people believed, being that object was stressful and rather derogatory to self esteem, and those in the limelight most often than not fell victim to the strain.

There had been a softness in Sooyoung’s eyes despite the shock that Yeri realized was a glimpse of the real person behind the celebrity facade (just as the laughter had been) and for the first time in years, she thought she could feel a small fragment of the ice melting away to reveal something warmer, something better, something that she wanted to be able to grasp between her fingers.

Abruptly, Sooyoung had stood and ruffled her hair, a murmur of protest leaving Yeri’s lips.

“Where do you live? I’ll walk you.”

“Shouldn’t I be offering, Korea’s top model?”

“You’re a kid.”

“Eighteen.”

“You’re so small I could pick you up and take you away, no problem.”

Yeri had scowled at the statement, knowing full well that it was the truth, yet unwilling to accept it.

She’d stood up and spun on her heel, not sparing the older woman a second glance before trekking her route home.

It hadn’t been long before she heard footsteps follow.

It’s been a week since then, and it’s baffling to her as to why a certain red-head still circles her thoughts as if dancing to some obscure melody.

She can’t seem to concentrate these days, and the mere color of red triggers memories she hopes won’t continue to haunt her like a vengeful ghost.

The distraction is dangerous - she’s dangerous.

There’s only so much she can do in the recesses of her own thoughts and Yeri’s never been good at keeping them in check, anyway.

So, she’s stuck with wandering thoughts and a less-than-adequate literature essay, and for some reason, she doesn’t hate it.

~

There’s paint on Joohyun’s clothes again.

Seulgi likes the remnants of the older woman’s work splattered in disarray across expensive clothes (this time it’s orange) along a stark background of black and white.

They’re a reminder that despite Joohyun’s seeming perfection, there are flaws underneath just like anyone else.

“These colors don’t bother you?”

Her fingers reach out to scrape off a dot of dried paint from Joohyun’s coat, bringing it up to her eyes so she can examine it better.

It’s a nice color, resembling the orange of sunsets, and she hears Joohyun chuckle softly beside her.

“No, not the ones I paint with. I chose those colors. Colors that I had worked with don’t bother me.”

Seulgi hums in response, flicking off the speck of orange from her fingertip as they walk.

The street isn’t as crowded as it had been, the sky draped in clouds that promise snow, although the moon still shines bright as a true beacon.

“Does it still hurt? Your hand, I mean. Would you like me to get some more ice?”

“Why do you care so much?”

Seulgi only realizes how offensive her words sound when they leave her lips, immediately going to mend the damage when she’s silenced by warm eyes and tilting smile.

“Because, you’re worth caring for.”

Joohyun gently pulls them to a stop, hand curling around her wrist with a kind of delicacy that Seulgi isn’t used to.

Breathing isn’t something she seems to understand anymore, feeling like a balloon void of its helium, but somehow full all the same, and Seulgi’s fingers coil into her sweater despite the sting of angry burns.

“These moments, do they still count?”

Joohyun is impossibly close, fingers still wrapped around her wrist, her gaze pooling into her own.

“What?”

“This, between us, despite everything, do they matter to you?”

Allowing the word ‘no’ to leave her tongue would be a felony, not saying a word would be a death sentence, and she’s not ready for any of that - not yet.

So, she says what comes to mind, her lips moving with the words circling her thoughts for once, and she steps closer, albeit demure in her actions.

“You matter. You matter to me.”

Snow falls.

It’s unnoticeable at first, an irregular drift that could be missed in a single blink, but then it begins to float down steadily, catching in Joohyun’s dark hair and blending into the white of her skin, some settling themselves on her lashes.

Seulgi can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, lowering her head in a feeble attempt to conceal it, but it seeps from between her teeth all the same.

The older woman follows suit, laughter light in the frosty air, the grip on her wrist sliding down to settle in the spaces between her fingers instead.

“Well, I don’t think anything can be as cliche as this moment has just become.”

The laughter dies down and Seulgi’s left looking into eyes that she’s come to find solace in.

She wants to hug her, wants to indulge in everything that is Joohyun, to treat her like she deserves to be treated, to love her like she deserves to be loved - but she can’t do all of that when there are secrets between them.

But she can hug her.

“Seulgi?”

Joohyun’s body becomes stiff, although it doesn’t take long for arms to wrap around her waist as if on instinct.

She buries her face in Joohyun’s neck, breathing in familiar vanilla and feeling the warmth emanating from her.

“I missed you.” She doesn’t know why the words catch in . “More than I wanted to.”

There’s a sigh that Seulgi can feel work its way throughout Joohyun’s body as she softens in the embrace and settles her chin on her shoulder.

“I missed you, too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

She’s not sure what it is that clouds her mind at that moment, but her lips are suddenly pressed against the corner of Joohyun’s jaw, the prominent bone solid against her lips despite the softness of the skin that covers it, and she stumbles back in horror at the action she can’t take back.

Joohyun looks dazed, her fingers brushing against the spot she’d just kissed, and Seulgi can feel the heat rush into her cheeks despite the cold.

“I - I didn’t - I didn’t mean to - I just - Joohyun?”

“Hm?”

The older woman still holds the dazed expression of someone who’d been hit in the head, or someone higher than the clouds on recreational drugs, and Seulgi collects herself enough to step forward and wave a hesitant hand in front of her face.

“Are you okay?”

She wonders if she’d somehow broken Joohyun.

“Bae Irene?”

Joohyun’s expression shifts abruptly into one of someone guarded, a stone wall in the face of an adversary, and Seulgi wonders why because that isn’t Joohyun’s name.

She turns to see a tall man dressed in a business suit, handsome in a movie star way with hair swept to the side, styled immaculately, and strong features that women would swoon for.

Joohyun steps past her, pulling her back just enough so that Seulgi’s partially hidden behind her frame, posture stiff in an almost robotic fashion.

“Seo Kangjoon.”

“Well, what a surprise. You’ve become more beautiful since I last saw you. It’s been a couple years now, hasn’t it?”

He’s not exactly the type of man Seulgi sees in her field of work, less vulgar and more refined, although the intent is still there behind the well-placed facade.

“What do you want? I have nothing to do with you any longer.”

Joohyun’s tone is sharper, cutting through the air like a knife, but he ignores the question, brown eyes flicking over to look at Seulgi instead, his eyes sparking with interest when she looks back at him.

But before he can so much as open his mouth, Joohyun’s whirling around, eyes pleading so Seulgi immediately knows what she wants.

“I’ll call you.”

The woman looks relieved and Seulgi bites her lip, nodding to reassure her in hopes of lessening the tension in the lines of her face.

“Thank you.”

Seulgi reaches out to offer a gentle squeeze of her hand before turning away.

She trusts Joohyun. She has to.

~

Krystal is a familiar face that Seulgi wants to be able to blink away.

She’s someone she’d rather forget, someone she’d rather have erased from the creases of her memory if only to lessen the pain in her heart.

So why is she standing in their hallway?

The doors of the elevator almost slide shut before she manages to step out, breathing shaky and pulse hammering, her body hot as if on fire, and then everything stops when she meets Krystal’s eyes.

“Seulgi.”

She barely registers Sooyoung who had had her back to her, the red-head turning to look, although all Seulgi can see is Krystal.

No.

“Watch it,” Sooyoung warns.

She can’t be.

There’s blood rushing in her ears, loud and overwhelming so that she can barely concentrate on the nightmare scene in front of her, the kind of nightmares she wakes up from sweating and sobbing into thin blankets in the dark.

Sooyoung moves then and behind her reveals Eunae - Eunae with her fingers tangled with Krystal’s, Eunae with her brows furrowed in innocent confusion, Eunae looking to Krystal as if she’s her beacon in the night.

“I - I have to - .”

She bolts for her door, fingers trembling in an attempt to punch in the right keys, ignoring her voice and successfully managing to punch in the right combination and shove the door open with her shoulder.

Her stumbling footsteps ring in the emptiness of her apartment and the door slams shut behind her, her ragged gasps for air the only sound that she can hear afterwards, tearing through her body and into her soul.

That’s how Sooyoung finds her minutes later, curled against the wall, her face buried into the cocoon of her arms.

“It hurts. Why does it hurt?”

Sooyoung hushes her, cradling Seulgi against her side and she can’t help but lean on her, looking for the support that’s been next to her for years.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

Eventually, her body slacks, her sobs dying away, and all she can feel is the rawness of and the warmth that envelops her.

“You good now, Princess?”

Seulgi nods weakly, feeling her head throb and the world spin as if it had been pushed off its axis, and Sooyoung only pulls her closer, holds her tighter, offers her a silent promise to never let go.

She has no reason to doubt - after all, she’s been there time and time again, right beside Seulgi throughout time.

“They’re . . . together.”

“They are.”

“Eunae and - and her.”

She can hear her voice tremble and she almost screams at how pathetic she’s being (it’s been five years for heaven’s sake) and she bites her lip, fingers going to twist into her sweater when sharp pain stops her with a hiss between her teeth.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just burned myself.”

Sooyoung makes an exasperated noise, palm outstretched and brow cocked and Seulgi relinquishes her injured hand with reluctance.

“I look away for one second and you’re either hurt or in trouble.”

Sooyoung’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, a gentle thrum that soothes everything from the hairline cracks to the massive ravines lining the edges of her paper heart.

She watches the younger woman scrutinize her injury with the care of a mother to her child, strands of red drifting over slim shoulders given no mind, and once again she’s left wondering about who takes care of Sooyoung.

“How did it go with Princess Charming? You two good now?”

“We’re good. For now. How are you?”

The giant pauses in her mindless fussing over irritated skin, all movement coming to a halt as if someone had thrown a wrench into the cogs of her body, but then laughter filters through her lips and Seulgi’s left with her lip snagged between pearly whites.

“Isn’t that what I should be asking you?”

It doesn’t help that Sooyoung doesn’t look at her once, as if she’s too busy worrying over a treated wound - Seulgi’s not that dense.

“Sooyoung, why don’t you talk to me?”

“I do talk to you. I’m doing it right now.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Seulgi watches familiar habits play before her eyes like a film stuck on loop - the wrinkling of her nose, the twitch of her left brow, the quirk of the corner of her lips - all a sign of Sooyoung’s resignation in the rare times that she decides that she’s lost.

The younger woman gently places Seulgi’s hand in her own lap, and though she doesn’t mind it, it’s not typical behavior.

“You’ve gone through things that I couldn’t imagine going through. It’s horrible, and I wish it wasn’t the case, but when I think about the pain that you’ve felt, my problems don’t seem that bad anymore.”

The answer leaves her stunned, blinking in the darkness of the room that somehow doesn’t seem as menacing as it should, and she doesn’t realizes she’s holding her breath until she’s releasing the pressure in a puff of air.

Sooyoung chuckles beside her, the quiet laughter filling up the empty space around them as if it had powers of its own, and she nudges her gently by the shoulder, urging Seulgi to look at her, and she complies, limbs still frozen from the words that ring true in her ears.

“All I’m saying is, you’re someone I look up to, Unnie. Even if I pretend like I don’t.”

“Did you call me Unnie?”

“Not if you didn’t hear it.”

Seulgi shoves the woman playfully, although the red-head doesn’t budge an inch, and she’s left wondering if her workouts are for naught.

She’s quick to sober, refusing to be distracted by Sooyoung’s clever quips and turns back to the younger woman with determination.

“You can talk to me. I care. Even if I pretend like I don’t.”

The giant gives her a lopsided smile, although it quickly shifts to something more dangerous lurking beneath a pretty surface.

“I know you do. You care too much. We’ll figure it out, okay? I won’t let her touch a hair on your pretty little head.”

Seulgi knows it won’t be that simple, not when she’s involved.

She nods anyway.

~

A/N: Happy holidays! As per usual, upvotes, comments, and subscriptions are very much appreciated. They are what gives me motivation to write every day. There may be a reveal of sorts by the next update, just as a heads up. Until next time!