snowflakes are blooming
alone with youThey’re twenty three and pitifully single, and Seulgi musters up a courage that can only be found during a first snow on Christmas Day.
“Wan–ah!” she calls down the line at a little past eight AM that Sunday, and a groan answers her.
“‘Gi…” Seungwan sounds cute even in a grumpy morning mood. “Why are you up?”
Seulgi can hardly contain her excitement as she paces around her apartment. “Look outside!”
It takes almost a minute with no reply, but she hears the sweep of sky blue curtains being drawn and the tiny, almost inaudible gasp afterwards. “I guess we’re actually getting a White Christmas, today.”
“Yep!” She smiles through her window at a Santa Claus distributing flyers beside the tiny neighbourhood bakery. “Now get your coat and boots on and meet me at the station!”
“Wh —“ Seungwan splutters. “Now?”
The artist hums thoughtfully. “In five minutes?”
“Kang Seulgi.”
“Fifteen!”
“…Thirty.”
“Deal!”
The phone line clicks off and Seulgi sighs happily, gazing down at the mess of clothes recently wreaked unto her bed. When she woke up two hours ago, she was too sleepy to even open her eyes. And now, after wasting all that time deliberating on whether she should invite Seungwan out or not, there’s an unbridled energy that makes her bounce on her toes in excitement at the day to come.
At its core, it’s just an outing between friends. Seulgi is doing the Seulgi thing to do — dragging Seungwan outside so they don’t end up spending Christmas alone, when they could be in perfectly good company of each other. A not–date, really.
…Friendly date. Pseudo–date?
The mental debate delays her by ten minutes. The last minute panic of choosing the right clothes for a somewhat–date puts her another fifteen behind schedule, and after she finally leaves the house she almost runs into a Pomeranian running ahead of its owner in the street. Altogether she’s about half an hour later than she planned, sprinting into the station midway between their homes and puffing as she creeps up on her friend and covers her eyes with a chirpy, “Guess who?”
“You’re late,” Seungwan states, twisting away to level her with a bleary–eyed glare that she rallies back with a grin.
“A princess is never late.” Seulgi cites as haughtily as possible. “Also, there was a cute dog that wanted to say hi and his owner was a really nice old lady.”
Seungwan sighs and pouts and links their arms together, tugging them along the platform. “You didn’t even tell me where we’re going. Why are we meeting here?”
“So we can walk around the city together,” she explains, leading them over to a bench, “instead of letting you grow mushrooms in your apartment of woe all day.”
The low rumble of an incoming train echoes in the distance as she sits down, but Seungwan doesn’t join her. “Why?”
Seulgi watches it approach, and lets the smaller woman tug her back up with only a small sound of protest. “Because it’s Christmas and you’re on a rare break from taking care of other people, and as your best friend I’m going to make sure you enjoy every single minute of it."
“Gee, how can I ever repay you?”
“By buying breakfast?”
“That was not a serious question, Kang,” she grumbles, but one train and six stops later she allows herself to be pulled into Seulgi’s latest haunt by Ichon Station without further argument, as the taller one points out the café special she’s been craving and the Christmas crepe Seungwan absolutely has to try.
(“It melts in your mouth, Wan–ah! And it has pop rocks, too!”
“And that is exactly why I’m not letting either of us eat it for breakfast.”)
They both end up getting Seulgi’s choice of waffles with cream, when Seungwan spots the words ‘signature orders’ and ‘2 for 1 deal’, and Seulgi doesn’t have the heart to whine about her hypocrisy when her best friend’s first bite ends up smearing the cream on her nose.
Both waffles are wolfed down and the calories thoroughly burned off by the time they wander around the neighbourhood and into Yongsan Park, meandering through the long–dead greenery as Seulgi quizzes her companion on interning at Asan Medical Center. Seungwan listens to her share of anecdotes from the office in return, from the quirky coworkers and the demanding clients and the product designs that never seem to fit her personal tastes. There’s a bridge they come across that’s nothing like the ones that stretch far over the Han River, but Seulgi convinces her to yell out their frustrations together anyway and only an old lady on a stroll sees them, smiling on her way past as they dissolve into embarrassed laughter.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Seul.”
The rest of the park isn’t as quiet as they trudge their way slowly up to Noksapyeong Station, dodging squealing kids running between them and worn out parents apologising profusely in their wake. Seulgi still manages to hear her despite the noise, with all the poorly hidden seriousness of her companion’s words.
“What is it?” she probes, walking steadily on a stone wall with arms out for balance — more for show than anything, with how wide the barrier has been built.
Seungwan trails along beside her, eyes on the ground as if looking for some trace of settled snow. “I’ve… been thinking.”
“‘Bout what?”
A tender couple walks past with a private laugh between them, and the dead trees rattle with a lone breeze. “You should probably stop calling me. About the first snow stuff. People are going to think —”
A leaf gets caught in Seungwan’s hair and makes her pause, and Seulgi eyes it for a moment before flashing her a smile and turning her eyes ahead with a ripple of nausea in her stomach.
“Does it bother you?” she asks, resuming her pace slowly. It’s silent as she steps forward one step, two steps, then three; and turns back to see that Seungwan hasn’t moved at all. She’s just staring at the leaf she plucked from the top of her head, letting it fall after a moment as she turns her attention to a robin making its way to a nearby tree.
“No,” comes her answer at last, catching up to Seulgi slowly as her stare stills on the tiny bird. “Not at all. But you’re going to end up dating someone sooner or later, and they’ll probably think it’s weird, and I don’t want that to be because of me. You know?”
A long pause stretches the silence between them until Seungwan notices it’s presence, and finally turns to face her.
“Seulgi?”
The older one drags her eyes from the retreating couple that passed them, remembering herself and the fact that they’re supposed to be having a nice, lighthearted Christmas day out together, and that it would be too obvious to cry now.
“Okay,” she nods, plastering a smile on with wavering ease. “You have a good point.”
Seungwan glances at her and parts her lips for a second — only a second. Then she settles on a nod.
“Right.” She looks awkward now, and Seulgi looks away. “How far are we from the Haebangchon, again?”
“Just up ahead. You can’t miss it.”
Seungwan’s smile is there and gone like a trick of the light, and when she turns and leads the way to their destination without another word, Seulgi can’t do anything else but follow her; heartache and all.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. They’re tense from the exchange, and it’s obvious to both parties involved as they make their way up the 108 stairway, taking pictures and watching winter’s midday sun with widened spaces between them. It’s the new French–Korean fusion place that breaks the ice a little with how good the food is; along with Seungwan’s versions of the crooning chansons in the speakers that are both skilful and horrible enough for Seulgi to give undignified snorts of laughter into her bowl of noodles.
An apology of some sort happens when Seungwan links their arms together after paying for their meals, and asks where they’re going next on their Christmas adventure. Seulgi doesn’t linger on why it is an apology, or why it was needed in the first place. She just smiles down at her with all the feeling she can, and asks her how she feels about ice skating for the evening.
For all of Seungwan’s inherent Canadian–ness, she’s an utter mess when put on the ice. There are too many people around them, too, yelping and shouting and hugging the walls so much that Seulgi has to hone her backwards skating skills by leading a terrified Seungwan around the middle of the ice, calling reassurances and teasing remarks to take her mind off the ‘rock hard floor of cold, slipper death’ beneath them. The joint decision to go to Grand Hyatt’s rink of all the available venues is pretty poor, in retrospect, but the medic intern insists they have their money’s worth with the sight of the decorations alone. Seulgi can only agree, when the christmas lights cast a golden shimmer all around — highlighting the easy smile on her best friend’s lips, and the warm glow of those soft umber eyes.
Seungwan takes a picture of her midway through a light dinner of buchimgae on their walk back home, capturing the backdrop of a huge Christmas tree and the lights and the magic of the night. She smiles quietly at her phone for long enough that Seulgi asks her if she’s actually taking a video instead, and even when she denies it with eyebrows raised high into her hairline, there’s really no other reason there could be. So Seulgi pouts and whines and badgers her until Seungwan relents, ordering her to pose for another picture and groaning as the older one insists on getting someone to take one for the both of them. The whole ordeal almost ends up with an angry mother in the frame and half a pancake on Seulgi’s head because of a hyperactive trio of children that runs into her, and the last two snaps that are saved on her phone are of her surprise and Seungwan’s laughter.
It’s nearly midnight when they decide to return to the latter’s apartment together, shivering like the trees outside in coats dusted with snow and frost from the unforgiving winds. Seulgi had taken the liberty to buy an old Christmas film from a record store by the station, and Seungwan was begrudgingly obliged to treat her friend with trying it out on the mini projector her dad bought her.
“You’ve had it for a year, already!” Seulgi proclaims exasperatedly, hurrying through the apartment to grab the offending box as Seungwan mumbles about not having the time or reason enough to use it. They’re settled in a half–done blanket fort soon enough though, with a bowl of popcorn between them and a grainy opening scene on Seungwan’s laptop showing up against her bare living room wall.
(Seulgi manages to keep herself in check for the film, despite the intimacy in the darkness and the heat of Seungwan next to her. She made sure to pick a film she’s actually been meaning to watch for ages, and her attention actually stays on it instead of drifting to the woman next to her every five seconds, like she thought it would.)
For a family film, it’s rich with unrequited love and turmoil despite the joyous themes of Christmas, plus a character that she sees too much of herself in — with a difference lying only in the protagonist getting the guy, and Seulgi still pining for the girl. It keeps her sane when she catches Seungwan staring at her with the end credits, with heavy eyes that lighten into something like nonchalance as she offers food by complaining about Seulgi’s annoyingly noisy stomach.
Between cooking from scratch and ordering in, neither of them have the energy to do more than make a quick call to the nearest open restaurant. That is, until Seulgi notices the lack of Christmas cheer around the apartment and promptly pulls Seungwan to her feet to rectify it.
“Christmas is almost over, Seul,” the medic grouses as the older one digs up some fairy lights of years past, paying her no mind as she goes to rummage through her work desk for some blu tack.
“It’s not over yet,” Seulgi replies, untangling the wired LEDs and handing a bundle to her companion. “We still have time for a Christmas tree.”
Seungwan plops down on her sofa with a pout. “I don’t have a Christmas tree.”
Seulgi giggles. “That’s why we're going to make one, Wan–ah.”
She holds up the lights and Seungwan parts her lips in realisation, glancing at the blu tack on the table for a moment before beginning to pull the fairy lights from each other in silent compliance. They make quick work of it together, plugging in both sets next to the sofa and bickering quietly over the size and shape and which lights should cross where. For a Christmas tree it’s small; but for something made of blu tac and cheap lights stuck against a wall, it’s beautiful. Seulgi can’t help but beam delightedly at their final product, spanning up from her midriff to just above her head with a star–shaped cluster of blue and yellow LEDs overlapping one another at the top.
“Pretty,” Seungwan comments, eyes settled on Seulgi as the artist turns back to grin at her.
"It’s a Christmas tree unlike any other,” she declares, regarding it with pride. It flickers happily back at her and she remembers her mother’s odd but age–old Christmas tradition then; clasping her hands together and bringing them to her chest.
“What are you doing?” Seungwan laughs, and the taller one looks up to smile at her.
“Making a wish, of course,” she replies, gazing at their makeshift star for a moment before shutting her eyes.
She wishes for lots of things. She wishes for good health in her friends and family and herself, and all the standard things that people wish for. She wishes for luck in her career path, and luck for Seungwan’s as well. She wishes for things she can’t have.
(I want to spend every Christmas with you.)
Her eyes flutter open, peeking over at the girl beside her to see her making a wish, too.
“What did you wish for?” Seulgi asks when she eventually finishes, watching the strange, almost faraway look pass through chestnut eyes before Seungwan nudges her.
“You first,” she deflects as Seulgi reaches up to trace the lights with her hand, pausing as they blink back at her. A lie comes easy to her tongue with the reminder of Seungwan’s words from earlier.
“I wished that next year I’ll spend Christmas with a boyfriend,” she says, eyes fixed idly on the star at the top. “What did you wish for?”
She doesn’t turn to face Seungwan when she asks, but she sees her smile in the corner of her eyes, anyway.
“To not spend next Christmas with you."
The LEDs sweep over them in bursts of pale yellow and blue. Seulgi glances over and there’s something in the way Seungwan looks up at the tree then, but it’s gone with the fade of the lights into the next cycle.
“Mean,” Seulgi swats her arm, turning to her with a laugh like the past three seconds hadn’t crushed her.
“I could have broken my arm ice skating with you today!” Seungwan whines back, and the artist doesn’t get a chance to retaliate when the doorbell goes off. “It’s your turn to pay this time,” her petite companion reminds her indignantly, and Seulgi rolls her eyes in good nature.
“I know, I know,” she drawls, trudging to the door and drawing the cash from her pocket as she shoves the pang in her heart to the back of her mind. The delivery boy is new, and she can tell by the way he blushes and thanks her profusely for the tip; to the point where Seungwan raises an eyebrow at her as she finally shuts the door and deposits their orders of pizza and fried chicken on the kitchen island.
“Don’t start,” she warns, grabbing chopsticks from Seungwan’s cupboard and plopping down on her usual stool.
“Start what?” Seungwan says airily, but there’s something off about it. She isn’t smiling, but it looks like she’s trying to. Maybe too hard.
Seulgi narrows her eyes. “What’re you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” her best friend replies, shrugging. She picks at a slice of pepperoni for a moment. “Just wondering if that guy could be a potential boyfriend for you to spend next Christmas with.”
“Wonder about your own love life, please,” Seulgi jousts in return, stealing a bite of the other girl’s half of hawaiian with a grin at her glare. “You’ve got a whole line of guys and girls wanting your attention.”
“You’re saying that as if you don’t have the same,” she scoffs softly, kicking lightly at her leg. Seulgi whines about it and clutches her shin, demanding more of Seungwan’s portion as compensation instead of stopping to think any deeper about their exchange. She’s sure that she will eventually find someone who will be beside her when the first snow arrives, and she won’t have to call Seungwan anymore. Or Seungwan will be the first to find that person herself, and either way their wishes will come true; no matter how false Seulgi’s may be.
Seungwan seems to agree, formulating plans out loud for her Seulgi–less Christmas as the woman in question teases her back about how lonely she’ll get. They’re comfortable and open as can be with each other, and Seulgi rolls up her sleeves in the warmth of the apartment as a different kind of cold finally starts to settle in.
the wish tree MV is really cute lmao
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