Yujin’s still sniffling into a sugary-sweet ice cream swirl half the size of her head when Minju reaches her hand out to cover Yujin’s.

“...Uhm,” Minju says awkwardly, the wind whipping her hair around and tangling it in her lip gloss. Sweet, endearingly insecure Minju, who never knows what to say. It actually makes Yujin like her more, because Yujin never knows when to stop talking.

They’re huddled together on a bench, even though it’s the middle of January, watching Chaeyeon and Sakura press their faces excitedly up against the glassy panes of the Ferris Wheel car they’re in.

“Your hand’s cold,” Minju murmurs, after what feels like hours, pulling Yujin’s hand into her lap where she can cover it with both of hers. She blinks up at Yujin, and Yujin blinks back. It feels like a really dumb kind of telepathy, but Yujin’s never been able to understand a single thought that goes through the girl’s head, so no—that doesn’t make sense.

Growing up really hit Yujin like a truck. She peeled herself off the ground, the day after her fifteenth birthday, and staggered back up to her feet. Nothing looked different, but something inside of her felt new all the same. She knows Wonyoung felt the changes too, but the younger girl handled everything with so much grace, even though she was the one who had the weight of the crown on her head.

But it’s more obvious now: Yujin has bruises all over her legs from bumping into things, and she constantly apologizes when she knocks things over, feeling coltish and gangly. Even more awkward than she was before, which is saying a lot. She’s upset thinking about it. She wishes she could shrink back down to Minju’s height, because Minju’s perfect. Everyone knows that.

“You okay?” Minju asks, a confused little frown forming between her eyebrows. She’s terribly pretty, even now, but Minju tells her all the time that she wished she looked like Yujin. That can’t be true! But Yujin still feels the pleased flutter in the back of , barely there. She’s always liked compliments, but she likes hearing them from Minju the best.

Yujin nibbles carefully through another chunk of the swirl, feeling the artificial strawberry goodness stick to . “My entire body might be broken,” Yujin says seriously, looking down at the ice cream melting all over her hands. Minju doesn’t pull away though, a quiet laugh bubbling out of , and the endearment in her eyes makes Yujin smile.

“Where’s your confidence?” Minju teases, reaching over to pinch at her sides. She looks at Yujin with a smile so warm and sincere it could bloom flowers in January — a smile like that. “I like that the best about you.”

Yujin shifts and buries her head in Minju’s lap, the sherbet running freely down her fingers now. “Really?” she hums, craning her head up, and Minju actually smiles at that — Yujin can feel it pressed up against her as Minju fixes her hair. Yujin’s cheeks feel warm.

“What else do you like about me?” Yujin asks, and she hears the sharp intake of breath too late.

Oh.

There’s a tense silence, and it’s quiet in that heavy way that’s louder than talking. Yujin’s stomach knots uncomfortably when Minju braves a glance down at her, her eyes big and hard to read. Yujin never knows what she’s thinking.

“A lot of things.” Yujin feels ticklish with every breath that falls delicately against her skin, but she doesn’t move away. “Everything. What’s not to like?” Minju’s eyes crinkle anxiously when she says it, and Yujin’s heart does a funny dance in her chest. It’s laughing again, mocking her. Minju presses warmly into her side, and Yujin’s heart keeps on singing.

. . .

Yujin gets in running position, and Minju only has time to internally scream oh no before she has Yujin’s hair in , her cold nose and mouth right on Minju’s neck.

Minju shrieks for real, pushing Yujin quickly and exasperatedly off her, the bed dipping as Yujin almost rolls off the mattress entirely. Yujin laughs as she sees Minju screwing her eyes shut in mock horror, and she’s a little dizzy too—she’s never gotten used to how Minju looks when they’re this close, glitter still around her eyes from the performance yesterday.

“It’s so unfair.” Minju knocks a fist gently against the side of Yujin’s head, the other girl nuzzling closer to her. “How am I the one sick when—”

Her eyes roll back, and judging by the Emotional Crisis expression on Minju’s face, she’s probably picturing Yujin draining the amusement park of their summer supply of ice cream, so Yujin presses her index finger quickly to Minju’s lips.

“The universe just loves me,” Yujin says smugly, tilting her head up when she feels Minju breathing unsteadily against that finger, “You’re so mean when you get sick.”

Minju pokes Yujin’s stomach, and Yujin barely manages to roll away, bending over with noisy laughter that bounces loudly off the thin walls. It’s nice, just the two of them like this. Yujin would go anywhere with Minju, if it’d be just the two of them.

Her stomach turns funnily when Minju rearranges her arm underneath Yujin’s head so it won’t fall asleep. She doesn’t pull away though, even though she must be uncomfortable—Minju just uses her other arm to punch her pillow expertly into place. Does she not want to hurt Yujin’s feelings? Is that what this is all about?

“You’re so annoying,” Minju snorts, narrowing her eyes at Yujin, but she’s half-laughing into her hand affectionately, so any effect it might have had is ruined. Yujin smiles involuntarily before she realizes what’s happening, and Minju smiles back, a shy smile spreading across her face that makes her look pretty, sweet, a zillion miles away from—

This is stupid, Yujin thinks confusedly, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to blink, or move, or do anything, this is really stupid! Her mind adds around a dozen exclamation marks when she tells herself, Getting attached to her and her stupidly pretty face is stupid!

Minju runs a thumb against her face, and Yujin’s mind suddenly goes blank, white static filling up everything when Minju puts her thumb gently underneath her chin and cups her jaw.

“Happy birthday,” Minju mumbles sleepily, looking at her with stars in her eyes, and Yujin lifts her head off the pillow for a moment, before drowsiness makes her fall back with a loud, awkward thump. The noise matches how her heart’s thudding around in her ribcage right now, and Yujin pulls the oversized jacket they’re using as an extra blanket over her chest.

“My birthday was in September,” Yujin says smartly, just so Minju can roll her eyes and reach for her arm. She likes it the best when Minju reaches for her first, and she doesn’t know why.

She feels Minju’s fingers sliding up her neck first, and then they’re combing through Yujin’s hair. Yujin knows it’s meant to be comforting, but she just in a deep breath and tries to stay perfectly still.

“I know,” Minju says breathlessly, her lips skimming across Yujin’s collarbone in a quiet laugh, “Of course I know, silly. I just needed an excuse to give you this.” Something is pushed gently into Yujin’s hands, and panic sweeps her as Minju curls a hand lovingly over her bangs, brushing them away from her eyes.

Yujin doesn’t know why she feels so nervous when she looks down at a sketch of herself resting on her lap, because patient Minju doesn’t even get angry when Yujin gets a little too close and drips cherry gelato on the paper. The drawing’s beautiful, because Minju has outlined her all in gold. Like she’s part of the sun.

You’re a star! Minju has written at the very bottom, and Yujin pulls at her hip, a hand around the cotton of Minju’s shirt. She can make out the outline of her face in the dark, and it’s nice, just the two of them like this, and Yujin watches the way Minju’s teeth tug at her lips, waiting for Yujin’s reaction.

Her heart feels way too big for her chest now. Like it’s going to burst into a million pieces. Does she even deserve this? It makes Yujin feel special and loved, that Minju chose her, in a way. That she chose her above everyone.

Thank you, Yujin blinks up at her, thank you for believing in me, but there’s that tiny piece of her that still doesn’t believe in herself, still, after all these months. She scrolled through thousands of thousands of comments, and every time, it felt like she was being pinched in the same spot, over and over again. What does Minju see in her that those people don’t? Yujin doesn’t get it.

Minju’s toes nudge at Yujin’s under the covers, and Yujin nudges back, rolling over to face her.

“You should just find someone prettier and smarter and funnier than me,” Yujin says grumpily, pulling the pillow up and over her face. She suddenly sounds small enough to fit in her own palm, and Yujin hates it, she hates the person everyone thinks she is, she hates how tall and awkward and insensitive and dumb she really is—

Minju’s arms lock around Yujin almost instantly, and her fingers skate across her arm, tugging at her wrist to pull the pillow away from Yujin’s face. “Where did your confidence go?” Minju says teasingly, laughing into her ear, her eyes falling into gentle curves.

I don’t know, Yujin wants to say. Her eyes are burning and they close tightly, just as her arm drops from her face. Minju’s fingers cool comfortingly over her face, and suddenly, everything’s a little brighter in the room. Yujin breathes. Then breathes again, her hands white-knuckled by her sides.

She laughs, surprised and happy, because she’s about to do that really stupid thing, isn’t she? The one where she leans over and—

“For the record, I don’t think I could ever find someone prettier and smarter and funnier than you,” Minju says, confesses, beating Yujin to it, and presses it clumsily into .