Yuri

--

“I’m going out for my run,” Taekwoon said through a foamy mouth and green toothbrush. “Need me to grab anything from the store?”

Yuri rattled her bowl of Froot Loops. “More milk? I’m using the rest of it.”

He held up a thumb, disappeared into the bathroom, and returned in a black Under Armour shirt and matching shorts. They’d been presents from Yuri on his birthday last year and he wore them faithfully. Their little silver logos faded months ago. “Got it. Milk.” He flipped through the money in his wallet. “Take a nap sometime today.”

Yuri had rolled out of bed alongside Taekwoon at a ripe 7:55am. She’d label herself an early riser through and through, but the anticipation of contacting Tiffany again did wonders. “I will.”

“Cool.” He kissed her again on the lips, eyes smiling. “Who knew my girl could still barhop with the best of them? Guess I’m the old one in this relationship.”

She pressed a folded coupon into his palm. “You’ve acted like a grandpa since I met you.”

“And that’s your type,” he quipped. “Stable and reliable.”

That gave Yuri pause. She gazed longer into his eyes, lost in an existential battle—did the qualities of her attraction cross all genders? Or would she fall for a woman the polar opposite of Taekwoon?

“I like that dreamy face.” He kissed her deeper, catching Yuri off guard. “Should I stay? We could watch some TV, play an app game.”

And postpone reaching out to Tiffany? “No, no. You’re already geared up. Keep that body fit before you start looking like an old man, too.”

He stumbled backward, pretend wounded at the heart. “Ouch. Okay. Take it easy, though. Sleep.”

“Run, milk, go.” She winked, hiding her desperation.

Once Taekwoon strapped his cell phone/pedometer to his arm, pocketed the wallet, and left, Yuri fell back on the bed. She could breathe, finally, without his suffocating lovey perfection. This thought should’ve made her feel like a , but she’d been too stressed about when to message Tiffany to dwell on her own character. If Tiffany clubbed well after she cabbed Yuri out, she surely wouldn’t be awake, right?

Mindlessly, she ran to social media for distraction. And lo and behold, Sooyoung dumped twenty new posts on her Instagram, recalling an unforgettable foray with the rich and famous. She and Taehyung cycled through at least four different clubs that night with that rapper and his entourage. Shots of high-end liquor, dance floor closeups (Taehyung obviously took most of those), saucy selfies, and venue signs. The most striking picture of the bunch was of Sooyoung hugged up on said rapper, a strong-jawed dude wearing a bomber jacket and sunglasses, in what appeared to be the VIP section. She could trick any casual viewer to be his celebrity girlfriend. Yuri frowned, wondering why Sooyoung would sacrifice this access for marriage. Han’s Snapchat stories at a strip club last month brought up that same question.

Without anything more interesting to peruse, Yuri’s patience wore thin. She could send the text message now for Tiffany to read when she woke up. Sort of the point of texting.

Besides, Taekwoon's run gave her only an hour or two.

Thus, she typed and entered:

Yuri: Still alive! 😊my hangover isn’t killing me so you did something right.

Yuri dropped her phone, bummed. Well, that completed Tiffany’s obligation to her. After finishing her cereal, she washed down an aspirin for her headache, and followed her boyfriend’s advice by hugging the fatter of their two pillows. A nap could clear her head like the shower last night. She needed to recharge.

Unless Tiffany messaged her back. Which occurred fifteen minutes later.

The phone had been lying on Yuri’s chest, transmitting a vibration quite literally to her heart. She sprung into sitting position like Frankenstein’s monster, groaning and grappling to read the response.

Tiffany: Good morning! Up already? 😌

A pleased emoji had never made Yuri so…pleased. Yuri: I’m an early bird. it’s in my genes.

She cursed herself for not sprucing that up with a smiling sun or a cup of coffee, but Tiffany answered immediately anyway.

Tiffany: Same! What are you up to on this beautiful Sunday? ☀️

Yuri her lips. Yuri: Nm, had some cereal.

Tiffany: Important question: What cereal?

Yuri: Froot Loops 🥣🥄

Tiffany: That’s so unhealthy! 😤😤Proper hangover breakfast, I guess.

Yuri: I eat it every morning...............

Tiffany: 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱Omg NO 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

Yuri doubled over in laughter, muttering a soft ‘ow’ when her headache reminded her to simmer the hell down. Yuri: Pray tell, what do you eat on hangover mornings?

A minute later, she received a link to an acai bowl dressed with granola, banana, chia seeds, and yogurt. She wasn’t one to go gaga over the health nut stuff, but she had to admit it looked delicious. The cute mental image of Tiffany troubling herself to gather these ingredients all raised the appeal. She typed back, Ok. That’s legit.

Tiffany: It’s fcking magical!✨Do you have a bullet or some sort of blender? It takes 10 minutes to make, I swear!

Yuri: I own neither 😥

Tiffany: Deprived, I tell you. Make an investment?

Yuri and Taekwoon were by nature frugal, though a blender wouldn’t break them. As long as she didn’t take any more cabs soon. Yuri: I’m convinced 👌🏼

Speaking of ten minutes, that exact amount passed before Tiffany buzzed her phone with a response. And thank goodness; Yuri chastised her not-so-conversational last message every second in waiting. And upon reading, Yuri’s stomach pleasantly dropped.

Tiffany: Sorry if this is awkward, but can we continue this convo on the phone…with our voices?📱📞I’m old-fashioned that way. Lol

She would’ve used smoke signals if Tiffany asked. Yuri: I don’t mind. 😅

Seconds later, her cell rang. Yuri almost wished she’d loaned herself a minute to prepare her heart for the husky fantasy that was Tiffany Hwang’s voice over the phone.

“Are you sure you don’t mind talking?” Tiffany sounded unsure and y alike. “Nobody wants to talk anymore.”

Yuri slowly recovered. “N-no, this is cool. This is good.”

“This is cool. This is good,” Tiffany micmicked. “You hate it!”

“I don’t!”

“You’re not fooling me, but I’ll drop it.”

Yuri grumbled awkwardly, causing Tiffany’s attractively uninhibited laugh to tickle her ears. “Fine.”

“So, last night.” Tiffany shuffled a bit. “About the woman making you put your hands on her?”

Oh, . Not this. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Seemed like a big deal last night. You were distraught.”

“That’s…not the full reason.”

“Tell me what happened? Please?”

God, that slightly whiny voice could manipulate every cent from Yuri’s savings. “She um,” The memories swept through her faculties like a wave, full of highs and lows. “bought me a drink. I joined her little posse and we hit it off. She flirted, I flirted. And drank…a lot.”

“Mmhm.”

“We danced, and it got hot and heavy fast. Afterward, we stepped into the hall—where you found me—to make out and um, yeah. She expected me to take her right there, in front of everyone.”

“God, exhibitionists...”

“I told her I wasn’t sure and she didn’t take me seriously since I’d given off some fiend impression?” Yuri shook her head, disappointed in herself. “I led her on, then abruptly refused and it pissed her off.”

“You poor thing. How far did it go, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Hand in her shorts. Just down to her pubis.” She rubbed the back of her neck; she’d been sweating. Less so for recalling the incident, but for speaking this candidly to a stranger.

Tiffany took another sec to reply. “Is this talk helping at all? Or am I triggering you?”

“No, not triggering. Thank you for asking.”

“Be careful out there. Women are capable of taking advantage, too.”

“I thought I was in control…then, I lost my nerve.”

“And that’s okay, Yuri. Don’t beat yourself up. From what little I know, I can tell you have a tender soul. It’s immutable and rare.”

How did Yuri deserve this self-help Ted Talk? She hugged the pillow to her chest, letting her feelings flow out without a buffer. “I don’t know you and that means everything to me.”

Tiffany’s sigh resembled a purr. “I hate clubbing, actually. Taking care of you fulfilled me more than getting shoved into all night; so, thank you.”

“No, thank you. And that angry friend of yours. Sorry I ruined her time.”

“Don’t feel bad for Yoona; when she doesn’t get her way, she’s temperamental with everyone. Even drunk strangers.”

“Is sh-she uh,” Yuri stumbled through because she knew nothing about lesbians outside of the internet. “Are you and Yoona…involved?”

“Are you asking if she’s my girlfriend?” Tiffany sounded amused. “Or are you asking if I’m gay?”

“Um, both?”

“Yoona and I are strictly platonic. And I’ve exclusively dated within my gender since my fourteenth birthday.”

Fourteen?! Yuri rushed to her feet, wracked with impressed outrage. How did she ing know since she’d been an adolescent? What wonder child even came to those conclusions so soon, undeterred by society’s wagging finger of disapproval? How did she know herself so well so early? How?! She schooled her breathing as she paced to her dresser crowned with laundered clothes. “Fourteen is young. I’m jealous.”

“Not as young as a couple of my friends when they knew. Also, to answer your unasked question—” Tiffany’s grin could be heard over the line. “I’m very, very single.”

And there went the last of Yuri’s oxygen. Instead of clipping coupons through these feelings, she plugged in an iron. “Single. Cool. I’m uh, glad.”

Tiffany laughed even louder, sounding far away so she could cackle off the receiver. “My god, you’re sweeter than that sugary rubbish you eat for breakfast.”

“Again with the Froot Loops slander?”

“You should be beautiful both inside and out.” Her tone lowered in a matter of moments. “You’re only halfway there.”

“Oh, .” Wait…oh, . Yuri spoke her mind by accident. She reeled, slamming her work shirt onto the ironing board. “I…I don’t…”

Tiffany cut Yuri off, betraying her own nerves. “No, I’m sorry. After what you went through with that lady at the club and whatever other issues, I shouldn’t talk this way. It’s wrong.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, please don’t feel bad.” She’d been flirting with someone who wasn’t a demanding, pretentious psycho. It should be celebrated as a holiday for years to come. “I’m not traumatized. It’s…it’s that I’m not used to those compliments from such a—” Think, think, think. “glorious being.”

Again, Tiffany’s laughter stole many seconds from their conversation. She collected herself, straightening audibly. “What are you doing right now?”

“Ironing. You?”

“Lying in bed, talking to you.”

New feelings rushed through Yuri: What color were Tiffany’s sheets? Was her long hair scattered sleepily over her pillow? Did she wake up as perfectly as she appeared last night? Did she wear conservative PJs or something skimpy and revealing? She set the iron down to recuperate. “I um, have your undivided attention.”

“What’re you ironing?”

Thank god. Easy questions again. “Work clothes.”

“Monday’s right around the corner, isn’t it?” Tiffany hummed a sad tune. “What do you do?”

“Retail.”

“Ah. Me, too.”

Yuri danced in place. They had more in common; Tiffany wasn’t astronomically out of her league. “My people.”

“When’s your shift tomorrow?”

Steam rose from the flattened crease of Yuri’s black slacks. “I close tomorrow, so about 3pm.”

“I’m in at 7am.”

“Jesus, your job is no joke.”

“Not at all…um,” Tiffany took a deep breath; Yuri braced herself. “I’d like to see you again. Under less hectic circumstances.”

Why was her apartment suddenly a hundred degrees hotter? “Yeah, that’d be better.”

“Do you work in the city?”

“I do.”

“Would you be up for lunch? It’s within walking distance of my job. Un…unless you have a different restaurant in mind.”

Restaurant. Yuri counted how much ‘fun money’ she could spend on a weekday. “Your idea, your choice.”

“Great. I’ll text you the address to my store. We’ll meet there and walk together.”

“Sounds like…” A date. A date with a gorgeous woman. “a plan, Tiffany.”

“Yay. So, I’m going to get out of your hair and leave the rest of your morning to you. Thanks for obliging to my old-fashioned ways.”

“I like you in my hair.”

Now, Yuri said that with the intention to hear Tiffany laugh again. She wasn’t disappointed. “Yuri, be careful or I’ll start to like you.”

“Oh, um,” If only her life weren’t so complicated. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll see me tomorrow at noon.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at noon.”

“Later, Yuri.”

“B-bye, Tiffany.”

Iron pushed aside to cool, Yuri floated backwards until she hit the bed and flopped onto her back. Her hands smoothed into the dips of sheets, imagining Tiffany at her side. On the same bed. She was giddy, elated that this thing with Tiffany could turn into a wonderful…friendship?

Yuri batted her eyes closed, ignoring her commitment and responsibilities. If Sooyoung and her fiancé played and field without breaking their monogamy, couldn’t she do the same? To test out this identity before prematurely tossing her and Taek’s bond into a heap beyond repair?

When she woke up, Taekwoon lay at her side, cheek on hand and beaming. He’d peeled off his shirt and though he was objectively the pinnacle of all things attractive in a male, this sight didn’t echo anything special between her legs. Not like Tiffany’s voice and her forward flirting and the thought of her alone in bed and…

“You seem…excited.” Taekwoon murmured, nodding down to Yuri’s chest.

Through her shirt, her s stood on end. Perky and responsive. And sensitive. , she should’ve woken up sooner and rubbed this rampant desire away, before her man returned from his run.

“A dream,” she lied. “Felt a little too real.”

“About me?”

“Mm. Maybe.”

“Well,” he waved over himself. “I’m here. In the flesh.”

For the millionth time, Yuri closed her eyes and tried to want his body. Tried to transfer this arousal for a woman she just met to the man who’d loved her unconditionally for years. His lips pressed into her neck, but all she could think of were Pink Halter’s lips, which had been more sensual, hungry.

Yuri kept her tears at bay. “I’m still queasy from this hangover.”

Taekwoon nearly jumped off. “Oh, man. I wasn’t implying anything. I just wanted to be close and I interrupted your nap. Sorry. I’m—uh, sorry.”

“Relax, Taek. It’s fine.”

“I’m mindless when it comes to you.”

She placed gentle, careful kisses to his cheek, then his lips. “Go take a shower. When I wake up, we can order out.”

“My kind of Sunday.” His long legs drew him out the bed and to the closet. He picked out underwear and jean shorts Yuri bought him ages ago. So humble, not flashy. Exactly what charmed her into calling herself his girlfriend.

He shyly smiled her way as he closed himself into the bathroom. She swore Taekwoon mumbled a final ‘sorry’ just as the door clicked closed.

They were a household of over-apologizing. Until now, on Yuri’s part.

Yuri waited until the shower sounded to throw an arm over her eyes and cry.

…

Craftie’s Warehouse could use a uniform up