h —

About twelve hours into 2019, Seulgi wakes up to five new notifications on her phone.

The first cluster of messages starts with a coworker complaining to the group chat about the jackhammer in her head, plus a chorus of agreements from the others. Seulgi just sends them a sticker, and pats herself on the back for not succumbing to the pressure of welcoming the New Year while hammered. 

The second is from her landlord about the neighbourhood cat that likes hanging around her apartment way too much, reminding her yet again to, “please stop feeding it, Mrs Hwang down the road is complaining that he’s getting fat. Also, Happy New Year.”

Third is the mildly concerning text from Saeron asking her where Yerim is and if she saw her plotting rituals with that goth girl from drama society again, which leads right into her fourth notification being from the goth girl herself. Seulgi doesn’t want to think about how she got her number, or why the message is just an entire paragraph in Latin preceding a, “Yerm sends her regards,” in Hangul. In any case, she decides to leave that one at low–priority for now, given that Yerim’s biweekly witchcraft sessions haven’t brought any immediate trouble. Yet.

That leaves the last message she scrolls to. Sooyoung’s Snapchat doesn’t give any warning from the notification screen, until she swipes and freezes at the photo of the taller woman giving Seungwan a one–armed hug with the caption, Guess who just picked up this hobbit from the airport for New Year’s Day??!?!!

She lets the image count down into deletion silently, and decides to forgo juice for coffee with her toast. Seungwan never said anything about coming back on New Year’s. Unless she only didn’t tell Seulgi, out of everyone.

The pinging of their group chat a minute later assures her otherwise, with Yerim’s scandalised emoji spam and Joohyun’s similarly shocked barrage of question marks. Even so the twist in her chest doesn’t die easily, but she supposes it’s a given when none of them have seen Seungwan in person for little over a year, now.

The decision for her to accept an internship all the way in Canada wasn’t surprising for anyone, least of all Seulgi. She knew how much Seungwan missed her home with her parents and sister, and how much better and friendlier the work environment would be over in Toronto. It still hurt her to be hugged goodbye at the airport with a promise of Skype calls and SMS messages, only two days after New Year’s Eve.

They all kept in touch as they said they would, and despite Seungwan being unable to make any visits back to Korea, they were all just as close as before. Minus Seulgi’s lingering awkwardness from Christmas, of course, but that was between her and Seungwan — who’s probably forgotten it ever even happened.

Nabi meows at her window, interrupting her thoughts and almost making her spill her coffee. She lets him in with a warm greeting and a scratch of his ears, and when he paws at her not–so–secret stash of cat treats she remembers her landlord’s warning with a sigh.

“Look… Only one today though, okay?” she tells him as sternly as possible, and he just blinks up at her until she gives in and tears open a tube of tuna paste for him. Nabi mews gratefully as she feeds him, and she can’t help but smile fondly at the feline. “Chubby little kitty. Wan–ah would love you.”

Seungwan would more than love him, she’d probably spoil him rotten if she could. The thought of makes Seulgi giggle, and a less anxious part of her hopes that Seungwan might be able to come around just so she can snap photos of her coddling him. Knowing Sooyoung, she’ll be dragging them all out to meet for a meal at some point today, and as she pets and coos at Nabi it becomes increasingly tempting to bring him along just to have a topic to talk about that isn’t her job or her tendency to skulk around the city like a lovesick puppy.

It turns out moments later that she might not have to bring her friend along at all.

Seungwan’s caller profile flashes up at her as soon as Nabi finishes eating, and she thinks that it’s just her luck that she wouldn’t even have half an hour of warning before having to talk to a best friend she’s terribly in love with, who hasn’t stopped running through her mind since last Christmas Day. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all.

Her thumb hovers, ready to reject the call or leave it to ring just so she won’t have to humiliate herself yet. The buzzing continues stubbornly, the chorus of, ‘Soulmate’ looping once, then twice, before she makes a desperate sound and reaches out to answer it, praying she won’t do something stupid in her excitement, like confess her love or something.

“Seungwan,” she starts hoarsely, before clearing . “H–Hey.”

“Hi, Seul,” her best friend greets, and before Seulgi can say anything else she rushes, “Long time no see, I know, but before you say anything, I just want to ask something before I chicken out again, so… It, uh. It’s supposed to snow today.”

That catches her off–guard, and Seulgi has to pinch herself to make sure she’s not dreaming. This is the last thing she expected. Nabi’s bored gaze follows her as she begins pacing around.

New Years’ snowfall. Now that she thinks about it, does that mean it counts as the first snow of the year, too? But then that would mean every first snow she saw with Seungwan before wasn’t really first snow…

She shakes her head slightly, deciding not to think too hard about it, despite the part of her that wilts at the realisation. “I didn’t know it would snow today. Is that why you called?”

“Yes. I mean. Do you — um.” Seungwan’s voice cuts off with something that sounds like a muted sigh of frustration. “Can I come over?”

Oh.

Seulgi almost drops her phone. She shares a panicked look to Nabi, who answers her with an unimpressed meow, and it’s only when she her lips that Seulgi notices has gone dry. “Oh.” Her voice cracks a little. “S–Sure.” She runs a hand through her hair, wracking her brain for something smooth to say as her heart begins to pound in her ears. “Of course. Just… come whenever? I’m at home, so.”

There’s a small, almost inaudible sigh of relief, this time. “Thank you. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Yeah,” Seulgi waves goodbye in her stupor. “See you.”

Seungwan utters a, “See you,” back, and ends the call. Seulgi promptly slaps her forehead with the hand she had been waving with. That… was so painfully awkward. And nice. The last time she heard Seungwan’s voice was on a group call a week ago, so speaking to her one–on–one like they used to still felt wonderful, even with how stiff they both were. She can only guess that Seungwan felt bad for not telling Seulgi she was arriving today, which was why she was acting out of sorts, but that didn’t explain why it felt like she had just as much to say to Seulgi that she somehow hasn’t.

The ten minutes it takes for Seungwan to arrive are tense. Seulgi spends half the time zoning out over what she could possibly be visiting for, and most of the scenarios her brain comes up with are so hopelessly cliche that she ends up tripping over herself (and Nabi) a few times. The entire process of making herself presentable is chaos, and even when she settles on a turtleneck and jeans under her jacket, it feels as if she might as well be wearing nothing with how skittish she is.

It’s only the sight of the snowfall beginning outside that manages to soothe her. She makes her way outside as Nabi watches from her bedroom window, and even though with how warm her clothes are, she shivers. Her breaths come as clouds, and she beams happily at her surroundings as she watches nature paint its way over Seoul. The idea that Seungwan would be here any moment, in time to see the first snow with her — it makes her want to wish for more, just like she used to. Before she convinced herself it was near–impossible, anyway.

“Have you been waiting out here all this time?”

The crunch of ice underfoot turns her around to see Seungwan approaching her carefully, picking her way through the snow and patches of frost as the artist immediately goes to meet her halfway.

“I only came out a few minutes ago,” she replies, and grasps her hands just in time as the shorter woman slips, squeaking adorably and almost toppling right into Seulgi. “Good thing too, because you’re still terrible on the ice,” she smiles, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears from the slight rush of adrenaline and the subtle scent of honeydew and flora that she’s missed so much.

Seungwan blinks up at her with wide eyes before drawing back suddenly, swiping her hands away as if burned. “Sorry I’m late. Sooyoung kept me for longer than I thought she would.”

Seulgi pushes down her initial disappointment at not being able to hug her hello, and shakes her head as she leads them over to the railing of the her front porch, overlooking her neighbourhood. “You don’t need to apologise. Like I said, I’ve only been outside for a little while.” Against all her better instincts, she still lets all her affection pour into a grin for Seungwan. “I missed you, you know.”

The shy, heartfelt smile she receives somewhat makes up for the hug she didn’t get. “I missed you, too.”

They settle into a lull of simply watching the world around slowly turn white, and the tranquility manages to set Seulgi’s mind at ease, at least for now. Minutes pass like hours, drifting as slowly as the snowflakes around them as they stand in silence. It’s comfortable, strangely so in comparison to their earlier conversation on the phone, and the quiet blanket is broken only by the distant sounds of traffic until Seungwan twists around to rest her back against the railing.

“Seulgi.”

She closes her eyes at the call of her name, revelling in the snowflake kisses on her face. “Mmhmm?”

Seungwan makes a thoughtful noise beside her. “There’s so much I want to say,” she murmurs, pensively. “I could never talk to you about it on the phone.”

Seulgi peeks one eye open at her. “Then talk to me about it now. I’m your best friend, remember?” she adds in jest, nudging her side until Seungwan shoos her away with a laugh. “You can take your time, Wannie.”

The nurse regards her for a moment with an indecipherable look in her eye. Seulgi tilts her head, and Seungwan draws a breath like she’s about to say something — but then she doesn’t. Instead, she seems to deflate a little, and resumes staring at the city. When she tries again it’s minutes later, when the air around them has become so still and inert that Seulgi almost thought time had stopped, if not for the falling snow.

“Back then,” Seungwan speaks quietly, looking back at Seulgi with a sort of resolution in her eyes. “I didn’t want our wishes to come true.”

Seulgi blinks, her mind stalling for a moment. “… What wishes?”

She expects a raised eyebrow, a playful remark of how she could forget. She doesn’t expect her to look away, almost guiltily. “The ones we made on Christmas, last year,” Seungwan clarifies. “Mine… wasn’t really my wish.”

(“To not spend next Christmas with you.”)

“But it came true anyway,” Seulgi points out before she can stop herself. She’s joking, for the most part; because while it saddened her and the others when Seungwan couldn’t make it back for Christmas, she understood how demanding her work was. They all did.

Which is why she immediately wants to kick herself when her best friend bows her head, wilting like a scorned puppy. “I’m sorry, Seul.”

“It’s not your fault!” the artist hastens to reassure her, hands waving frantically. “I didn’t mean to sound mad at you or anything. I know how busy you were, and how much you wanted to come back. I’m sorry for making you think I was angry!” Her apology ends in a deep bow, and she waits a few beats of silence before peeking up at Seungwan.

“You haven’t changed a bit. Still tactless,” the smaller woman huffs, feigning annoyance but smiling at her anyway, and it feels like how they were before she went back to Canada. There’s something about it all that makes Seulgi want to be honest, too.

“Well, I didn’t mean mine either, you know.”

Seungwan raises an eyebrow once she understands what she’s referring to. “Your wish?” she asks, almost skeptically. “Really?”

The dubious shock in her expression reminds Seulgi that they’ve never talked about this kind of thing together, not since that Christmas Day. Dating never came up in their conversations even before that, so what seemed like a mutual joke at the time just feels like a two–person lie now, and this… this is something Seulgi resolves to fix.

“Really,” she nods, trying for a smile. “I haven’t had a boyfriend, and I’m not planning on getting one. It’s not my thing.”

Seungwan’s eyes widen slightly, and she nods without a word. The deep blue scarf around her neck is pulled at and fiddled with idly in the ensuing silence, and Seulgi can’t stop thinking about how much it looked like some form of hope, just then.

The warmth of her coat that had previously been so comforting is almost suffocating, all of a sudden. And looking at how Seungwan avoids her gaze, she knows she’s not the only one who can sense the abrupt change in the atmosphere between them.

“I… Seulgi,” she begins, only to stop and fold her arms, glancing away. “I’ve been thinking a lot. For the past year or so, actually,” she says, carefully. “And I need to ask you something, if you’ll let me.”

There’s a zephyr that plays through the air now, disrupting the steady drift of snowflakes floating quietly around them. Seulgi exhales. “Okay. Yeah. Go ahead.”

The wind blows against her back, as if trying to coerce her closer. She stands her ground, and wraps her arms tighter around herself.

“Do you —“ Seungwan sighs; a nervous sound. “Did you like seeing the first snow with me?”

Seulgi almost bites her tongue as she fumbles for an answer. Words fail her in the face of a boldness and a question she never really expected, so she just nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak.

Seungwan purses her lips for a thoughtful moment. “Then, can I keep seeing the first snow with you?”

The blush on her cheeks becomes less about the chill, and more about the sudden surge of hope in her chest. She nods again, quickly.

Seungwan takes a breath. The winter breeze slows.

“… Is it alright if I’m also in love with you?”

A snowflake flutters down and perches itself on the tip of Seungwan’s nose, and Seulgi watches her reaching up to touch it, avoiding her gaze as she tugs her scarf up to cover , too. She’s shivering a little, and it’s only then that Seulgi notices she’s only wearing her scarf and a pullover on her body, so she’s quick to shed her own jacket to drape it over the shorter woman’s shoulders.

“Why is that even a question?” she utters softly; watches Seungwan stammer for an adorably flustered moment, and leans down to kiss her before she can reply. The soft wool of Seungwan’s scarf separates their lips, but the warmth is there and it’s theirs, and Seulgi doesn’t want it to stop. Except it does, when she pulls away after noticing how still her best friend has become, and panic sparks in her chest despite the confession moments before.

“Sorry,” she breathes, “was that too —“

Seungwan steps close, tugs the scarf down, and calms her heart as she grasps her hands, still holding her jacket around her, and leans up.

“If you’re going to kiss me,” she murmurs, lips brushing lips as she speaks, “do it properly.”

And when they meet this time, Seulgi’s heart simultaneously calms and soars and flutters and does everything she’s ever read about in stories. “Got it,” she mumbles when they part some blissful moments later, grinning uncontrollably as she pecks her again and again until they’re giggling against one another like giddy schoolgirls.

A loud buzzing pulls them away in surprise eventually, and Seungwan checks her phone before laughing, flustered and out of breath. “My family just messaged me. They’re wishing me Happy New Year’s from Canada.” Plump lips quirk up, somewhat embarrassed. “Great timing, right?”

“Right,” Seulgi replies dumbly, blushing red at the mere proximity of Seungwan’s smile.

“You didn’t answer my questions properly, by the way,” she utters quietly, a similarly dark flush of pink on her cheeks. “I want to hear you say them.”

The taller brunette raises her eyebrows playfully. “If this is your three–step way of asking me to be your girlfriend, then yes,” she mumbles against her lips, before kissing her again. “Yes.” Another, lingering a beat longer before she pulls away breathlessly. “And yes. Is that enough for y —“

“Yes,” Seungwan answers, bordering on pleading as she pulls her in once more with hands curling into her sweater. Seulgi loses count of the kisses and seconds that pass, because all she knows is that she’s spent years pining for a girl who’s always reminded her of what first snow should feel like, and now she’s actually here with her. Kissing her. Sooyoung is going to have a field day with them once she finds out.

“Thank God Sooyoung gave me that pep talk this morning,” Seungwan exhales, hushed in the minute gap between them.

Seulgi freezes. “Wait, Sooyoung knows?”

“That I’m in love with you, yes,” she admits, so adorably quiet and bashful that Seulgi starts to melt despite the cold. “I was late because she was convincing me to confess to you already.”

“I’m glad she talked to you too, then,” Seulgi chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “Knowing me, I would drunkenly confess to you after drinking later, and that would be a lot less romantic than this.”

“And yet, I’d still end up saying yes if you asked me out like that,” Seungwan insists, entwining their fingers. “This is fitting, though. This is the first time we’ve seen the first snow together.”

Seulgi gives her a quizzical look. “But you’ve seen it with me plenty of times, Wan-ah.”

“Over the phone,” she corrects her, squeezing her hand. “Not together, like this. I didn’t see it with you at all last year, either.”

The white of their surroundings is almost blinding with how bright everything feels beside Seungwan. “You’re right, I ended up watching it with Nabi. Gosh, I fed him so much tuna that day.”

“You spent it with your neighbour’s cat?” she laughs, pulling her closer and glancing down at the slither of space between them. “In that case, we’ve got a lot of making up to do. Especially for the previous first snows.”

The artist flushes and shivers, a giddy laugh escaping her. “Out in the cold?”

“It’s only fitting, right?” Seungwan’s smile is bright with mirth and promise, and Seulgi can’t help but kiss her until she’s pinned her to the wall with the warmth of her body and the heat of her lips, smiling into each seamless caress as the snow flutters and lands and doesn’t melt; only builds.

This year, it settles.

— appy new year!