[CONTENTID1]Turn Ons and That Girl[/CONTENTID1] 

[CONTENTID2]“He apologised, eventually. But it doesn’t really mean anything, does it? I just couldn’t stop thinking about what you said about this being how he is, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”[/CONTENTID2] 

[CONTENTID3] Yeseul had a night lecture that she was actually looking forward to, for the first time ever, because they were finally going to be analysing her favourite part of Canterbury Tales. She actually wanted someone to argue with her, because she hadn’t seen Chanyeol since his birthday and he was usually game for a good debate. It had left her in a constant state of frustration, which nobody but Chanyeol was accustomed to dealing with. Yeseul felt bad for snapping at Serin during their Wednesday lunch earlier in the week and at Joonmyun at least six times on separate (and pointless) occasions. 

The fact that she kept on seeing Daeho on campus wasn’t helping much either. 

Throwing open the door to her room, Yeseul went out into the corridor with her book tucked under on arm and her cigarettes held to her chest. But at the exact moment she did so, she walked straight into Chanyeol. 

She managed not to drop anything, but one of her palms lay flat against his chest and Chanyeol had grasped her upper arm to stop from falling. They both muttered an apology and sprang apart, and an awkward silence fell over the corridor. Yeseul stared at her feet, hating how tense it all was. How she could feel Chanyeol’s eyes on her but couldn’t manage to look up, how her insides were twisting into knots, how none of this had ever happened to her and she definitely didn’t want it to start happening now. 

Things were certainly different; she had been right about that. 

“What are you reading?” Chanyeol asked. Teeth clamped down firmly on her lip, Yeseul lifted her eyes to Chanyeol’s and showed him the book. He spared it a brief glance before looking at her again, hesitancy clear on his face. “Everything all right?” 

Yeseul didn’t feel all right, she felt conflicted and frustrated. Not to mention the fact that she was still drawn towards Chanyeol, even more so now, but she didn’t know what to do about it. “Fine.” 

“You’ve got a lecture, right?” He asked, and she nodded. “Do you want me to make you tea?” 

As he headed down the corridor, Yeseul caught sight of the black journal sticking out of his back pocket. It had to be new, judging by how thin and shiny it was, but all Yeseul could think about were the scribbled pages she’d read back in his room, all the lovely words she was only just beginning to see had been part of Chanyeol all along, hidden behind his dimpled grin and cheeky remarks. 

“I can make you a sandwich or something as well, if you want,” he said, putting on the kettle. 

Yeseul leaned against the counter, rearranging the book and cigarettes in her hands. “I’ll just eat once I get home.” 

“But it’s a three hour lecture, Seullie.” 

“I’ll get a muffin or something on campus,” she shrugged. 

Chanyeol was adamant, throwing her a stern look as he fetched a mug from the cupboard and milk from the fridge. “I’m making you a sandwich.” 

“Chanyeol, you don’t have to–“ Yeseul broke off when Chanyeol turned around, grinning. She tried very hard not to smile back. “You’re so annoying.” 

“Happy to be of service.” 

“I’ll be …” She motioned toward the balcony, annoyed at how amused Chanyeol was, and went for a cigarette. 

Just as she lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply, her mobile buzzed from her back pocket. Yeseul drew it out, seeing Joonmyun’s name on the screen, and exhaled as she swiped his name across the screen to read the message. 

It was just a string of emojis, which she’d come to expect from Joonmyun since giving him her number almost a week ago. After missing a lecture and having to get notes from him, he had a very sound reason for needing her number so they could communicate in the future if one of them wasn’t going to be in. 

By what he’d sent her, Joonmyun had spent yet another night getting drunk with his friends. Though he wasn’t in her night class, he was apparently in the midst of a very serious assignment (this was indicated by the paper, books, and double exclamation mark emojis) and still hungover from the night before. 

The door to the balcony opened and Chanyeol stepped out, grasping a steaming mug that looked tiny in his hands. He must have seen Yeseul scoff at her phone, because he asked who she was texting as he handed the mug over. 

“Oh, it’s just Joonmyun. He’s hungover again.” 

Chanyeol raised his eyebrows. “You text Joonmyun now?” 

“Yeah,” Yeseul said, taking a sip of tea. “I had to cave and give him my number after I missed a lecture the day after your birthday. He got the notes for me.” 

“That was nice of him.” 

“He’s nice. I didn’t expect it, but he is.” 

“Do you like nice?” He glanced at her innocently through his lashes, and it made her feel much more than it probably should have. 

Yeseul felt warm, but she blamed it on the tea. She took a drag of her cigarette, exhaling away from Chanyeol. “Not like that.” 

“What do you like, then?” Chanyeol asked casually. “Like that?” 

Yeseul tilted her head at him, and Chanyeol’s expression stayed the same. “I don’t really know. It just sort of … sneaks up on me.” 

The corner of his mouth twitched and he ducked his head, his hair falling forward and shielding his face from view. 

Ever since New Years, Serin had been avoiding Yeseul’s apartment like the plague. They’d hardly studied together, because Yeseul didn’t like it at Serin’s dorm, and she was sick of the library and always seeing Daeho outside the English Department. But after convincing her that Baekhyun was an idiot and didn’t know what was going on, Serin finally came around. 

“You know you’re either going to have to confront him or forget anything ever happened, right?” Yeseul said. They were driving back to her apartment from campus, after finishing lectures at the same time. 

Serin chewed on her lip, rolling to a stop at a red light. “I guess.” 

“Because he’s probably not going to do anything. I don’t think he even realises that sleeping with that other girl was a move before you two got proper closure.” 

Yeseul knew what sort of move it was, because she had done it herself. 

“He’s not as stupid as you think he is, Yeseul,” Serin said defensively. 

“Okay, he’s not stupid,” Yeseul said, rolling her eyes. “But he is an idiot.” 

“Yeseul!” 

“I’m not going to apologise! I knew he was going to be like this, and you didn’t seem to listen. Baekhyun isn’t going to just magically figure out that you like him, Serin. He’s a boy, for Christ’s sake.” 

“Does the same logic apply to Chanyeol?” 

Yeseul didn’t think it did, because Chanyeol wrote poems and knew exactly how she liked her tea and had a cute little smile that he probably didn’t even realised was on his face. He was some rare form of boy that was in tune with their feelings and wasn’t lame about it. Well, maybe a little bit. 

“See?” Serin said, when Yeseul didn’t answer. “Let me do this my way, okay?” 

“Because avoiding him has working so well thus far.” 

“Have you spoken to Chanyeol since his birthday?” 

“Yes.” 

“About your feelings?” 

“Ugh,” Yeseul groaned, banging her head against the headrest. “Can you not ask it like that?” 

“Just answer the question.” 

“Nothing has progressed since his birthday.” 

Serin sighed, pulling into a parking space where she didn’t need a permit. She didn’t drive as often as Chanyeol, so she didn’t mind that he had Baekhyun and Yeseul’s permit for the spots on the building’s street. As it was, they had to walk a street in order to get to the apartment, but it was better than a ticket. 

“And why is that?” 

“Because I was a nice person and now everything is awkward. 

Serin laughed, climbing out of the car. She met Yeseul’s gaze over the hood. “You must hate that.” 

“It’s terrible,” Yeseul agreed. 

On their way to the apartment, Yeseul got a call from her mother. They hadn’t spoken since she’d been in Seoul for Christmas holidays. Yeseul tilted the screen so Serin could see who was ringing, and she urged Yeseul to answer it. “She wants to understand, remember?” 

“Yeah.” Yeseul hit the green button, falling a step behind Serin as the line connected. “Um, hi, Mum.” 

“Yeseul,” the voice on the other end breathed in relief. “I’m so sorry I didn’t–“ 

“It’s fine.” 

“No, it isn’t.” 

Yeseul paused, and Serin nearly got all the way to the building before she noticed Yeseul wasn’t following her. “I kind of figured it would be a while before you wanted to talk to me again.” 

Though there was traffic and wind, Yeseul could still hear her mother’s shaky breath on the other end. “Oh, Yeseul, I’ve been such a horrible mother to you.” 

It sounded as though she were either close to crying or the tears had already started to fall, and Yeseul squeezed her eyes shut. “Mum, it’s fine. Please don’t cry. I’m not angry at you, I promise.” 

“That doesn’t mean I haven’t made mistakes,” Miyoung said. “After you left, I just felt terrible. I forgot that being a mother means you love your children no matter what, and I’m so sorry.” 

She’d forgotten it for years. Even though she’d tried, Yeseul knew she had, Miyoung had never been able to accept her daughter. Yeseul wasn’t sure what had made this fight different from the others, because there had been worse ones, but she was so relieved that the rest didn’t matter. 

“Thank you, Mum.” 

“I love you, Yeseul.” 

“I–“ Yeseul started, and her voice cracked. Serin had come back over, her eyes wide, and she grabbed Yeseul’s hand. “I love you too.” 

“You know it’s been years since you said that?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I wouldn’t be mad if you don’t mean it,” Miyoung said softly. “I would understand if you didn’t.” 

“I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it,” Yeseul replied. “And you’re my Mum, of course I mean it.” 

Miyoung laughed breathily, her voice disappearing as a strong gust of wind came from behind Yeseul. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything, I’ve been meaning to call you for weeks but I wasn’t sure if you’d pick up.” 

“You should have called,” Yeseul told her, and Miyoung hummed. “Mum, how’s Dad?” 

“I tried to speak to him, but he wasn’t listening to me,” Miyoung said. “But I think he’ll listen to you.”

“He hasn’t before.” 

“But I think he wants to now, dear. I think he’s realised that we won’t get you back next time.” 

Yeseul didn’t know what to make of that. Her father had been this impassive, ignorant figure for so long that thinking of him opening his arms to her as she was now seemed impossible. 

“I’ll wait until I’m in London,” she said. “Dad was never good over the phone.” 

“Good idea,” her mother agreed. 

“I should go now, Mum, but I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“That sounds wonderful, dear.” 

“Thank you again. It means a lot.” 

“Thank you, for forgiving me. I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t.” 

“Well, I’m trying out this new thing,” Yeseul said. Serin was smiling at her. “Being more honest. And I don’t want to fight with you, or Dad, anymore.” 

“Neither do we,” Miyoung replied. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Bye now.” 

“Bye.” 

Yeseul stared at her phone long after the calling scene disappeared, still hanging onto Serin’s hand. She wanted to call Youngjae, to see if he knew or had played a part in her mother’s change of tune. If anyone was able to knock some sense into her, it was probably him. Youngjae was always honest, that was just the kind of kid he was, and he wanted to see their family repaired more than anything. 

“That was really good,” Serin murmured. 

“I’m still recovering,” Yeseul said. 

“Come on, I think you need a drink.” 

“God, yeah.” 

The apartment was empty when they got inside. Yeseul found an unopened bottle of wine in the cupboard and Serin grabbed the glasses. They decided to go ahead with their actual plans for the evening and simply add wine, and Yeseul folded up her wool blanket and put it in the closet in case any of it was spilled. She could handle a wine stain on her sheets, but not on the blanket her grandmother had made. 

Yeseul arranged her books and notes around her bed while Serin sat at the desk, since she had an essay to write and got priority. After a candle had been lit and one of her favourite soundtracks was playing, Yeseul felt more at ease. A weight had lifted off her shoulders, and the conflict with her mother had left a much greater impact that she realised. She could still feel her father’s disappointment, and would until she saw him and made him listen, but there wasn’t the same overwhelming anxiety as before. Something more like determination had replaced it, buoyed by Miyoung’s apology. 

“Hey, tell me if this makes sense,” Serin said, reading out part of her introduction. Yeseul sipped her wine, listening carefully to Serin’s wording. 

“Yeah, it’s good,” she said. “Just try to avoid using contraction