Yongsun opens the front door at four in the morning, smelling like cigarettes and sugar, her coat half shrugged off as she reaches for the light before realizing it’s already on. 

Byulyi moves her computer from her lap to the table, eyes on the other woman as she sighs and takes off her shoes.

“You’re up.” Yongsun whispers, the quiet hours of the morning making her ears sensitive. 

I heard you leave.

“Forgot to turn in a project.” Byulyi shifts, brings a foot onto the couch and sinks back. She hopes Yongsun will take the bait and sit with her. The older woman does, folding her legs under her as she reclines and hugs her coat to her chest. 

“What were you doing out?” Byulyi murmurs, an tightness in her chest from the unfamiliar scent of smoke. 

Did you go out with someone?

Yongsun’s eyes briefly flash guilty before she reaches into her coat pocket and takes out a neat pack of Marlboro's, thumbing at the opening. 

“Smoke break, I guess.” She admits with a bit of disgust in her tone. 

“I didn’t know you smoke.” 

Yongsun shrugs, inhaling deeply as she lets her head loll back and Byulyi tries to stop herself from gravitating towards her neck. 

“I don’t like it.” Yongsun says with a sigh, picking her head back up. “I hate cigarettes.”

Byulyi scrunches her brow and looks between Yongsun and the pack in her hand. “What?” She asks, and it also sounds like a ‘then why?’

“I don’t have a lot of vices.” Yongsun fiddles with the box. “I can’t drink, I don’t have anyone to spend my time with,” Byulyi’s throat closes, “I won’t do anything illegal.” Yongsun furrows her brow. “It’s just something to do outside of the “right things,” I guess.” She gestures vaguely in the air.

Byulyi stares at her hand in the air, at the slender fingers, tips trimmed and smooth, pink from the cold. She her lips and slides her gaze to Yongsun’s face, quirking an eyebrow. “But you hate it?” 

Yongsun chuckles. “I hate it less than one-night-stands and hangovers.” She says, place the pack back into her coat pocket. “You don’t have any vices, do you, Byul?”

Byulyi stares at Yongsun’s sleepy eyes, imagines them closed as she exhales a cloud of smoke, and wonders if it was erse of her to want to breath that in. Cigarettes and sugar. 

“Nope, I’m perfect.” Byulyi says seriously and it makes Yongsun chirp, hitting her with a throw pillow. 

“Whatever, President Loser.”

Byulyi laughs and hugs the pillow to her chest and watches as Yongsun gets up from the couch to get ready for bed. When she sees Yongsun’s door close on the woman peeling off her shirt, she slides down the couch, head laying in the empty space left behind.

Byulyi inhales deeply, pretends she’s still enveloped in Yongsun’s presence, and can’t help the smile that trembles on her lips. She thinks of the pathetic half-hour she spent refreshing the same tabs while she waited for Yongsun to come home, thinks of how she had an excuse ready for why she was awake, thinks about the flood of relief when she found out Yongsun hadn’t gone out to meet someone. 

You don’t have any vices, do you, Byul? 

I have you.