It used to be so bleak. The chairs were navy with frayed cushions and bulky supports. The tables were wooden and worn. The shelves were tinny and creaked. The books were musty and dusty, mud-brown and leather-bound. The bricks crumbled and the plaster cracked. Grey dust lined the base of the walls. Jisun scrolled down a website and skimmed blocks of stark black text on a blinding white background. A single diagram, like a painter’s palette smashed into her screen with resentment. So many tones, it pained her to look at it.

It used to be so static. Students filtered out of the study area as the hours ticked by. They rushed to class. They rushed to dinner. They rushed to meet friends. They rushed to hug lovers. They rushed to bed. Bodies blurred in slow motion before Jisun’s dry, bloodshot eyes. One less soul, one more page. There she sat in the dead of night with a stiff spine and cramped neck, seven chapters into her textbook, pencil scrawling yet another formula.

It used to be so cold. The air conditioning blasted on high even in the middle of winter. There was too much room between the bookshelves. There was too much space between the desks. There was too much distance between the walls. There was too much oxygen in a void depleted of energy. Jisun wondered if it was absolute zero and she was just too numb to care.

It used to be so bitter. Three teaspoons of sugar and a splash of cream made no difference. Aversion was an acquired taste. It was functional, cheap, and simple. Twelve ounces per session and nobody to share the emptiness. Jisun supposed it was her fault. She staked out the alcove hidden in the depths of the stacks. Isolation was so bland yet so familiar. She held onto it out of habit. Another sip with a metallic tang, another needle in her chest, another submission uploaded to the student portal.

It used to be so quiet. It was so quiet that the ambient noise of humans being humans was shunned with disgust. Jisun would glare daggers between bookends at groups whispering their deadlines. She’d curse the ignorant freshman peeling open a bag of kettle cooked chips. Her nails dug into her palm as someone a floor above went into a coughing fit. Then it struck midnight and she’d scan the basement. There was nobody to scuff the carpet, nobody crunching on snacks, and nobody crying about midterms. The silence was somehow more irritating. The audible disruptions at least let her know she existed.

It used to feel normal, but what was the point?

~|~|~|~

It used to be so bleak, but now Jisun’s world is vibrant with personality. Pristine checkered skate shoes thump down the metal grate stairs. Smooth, fair skin peeks out between the threads of ripped skinny jeans. The midnight black v-neck is marbled with electric blue and neon green paint, like cracks of lightning. Strands of wine red seamlessly blend into raven locks. More. Jisun wants more. Her pupils dilate to let in more light, more color, more life. Jiwon smirks at the binders and textbooks littered across the table meant for four. Jisun’s eyes snap to Jiwon’s lips, pink and plump, tugging upwards with every step. A tongue pokes out in jest. A small, bold silver stud renders Jisun immobile.

It used to be so static, but now it’s a race between Jisun’s mind and body. Excitement bubbles up in her stomach. Jiwon seems to be walking a mile a minute. But when Jisun stands to greet her, Jiwon’s already in front of her. Their noses are a mere two inches apart. Hands slide down Jisun’s thighs and lift her up with surprising strength. Fingers dance across the small of her back, tugging her closer to the table’s edge. Jisun’s knees lock Jiwon’s hips in place. Her nails scrape against the back of Jiwon’s neck, applying the slightest pressure as a plea. She wants to go full-throttle while her head’s still lagging behind. Three months of laughter, smiles, and running towards the horizon flash before her eyes. It makes her dizzy, like the adrenaline high of jumping into fate. Her soul, however, is light-years ahead, steadfast and bonded to Jiwon’s.

It used to be so cold, but now passion blazes in Jisun’s heart. Feather-light touches leave a scorching trail down her arm. Small, strong hands brand their presence into her back. Her skin burns blissfully as soft lips mark their territory along her jaw. Jisun feels feverish, but she needs to be even closer. Her fingers claw at the hem of Jiwon’s shirt. Jiwon pauses just by the shell of Jisun’s ear. Jiwon’s breathing is heavy, slow, an incendiary stream. A teasing kiss to Jisun’s piercing is all it takes to set off the blush creeping up her neck. Jiwon smirks victoriously and Jisun loses it. Oxygen swirls around them, too excited, too quick to take into their lungs. Desperate and impatient, Jisun crashes their lips together, eager to breathe in all of Jiwon.

It used to be so bitter, but Jiwon’s kisses are addictively sweet. Jisun’s been craving her for the past six hours. Her usual twelve ounces from the campus cafe get her through grueling lectures. A single text, a meeting time, mitigates her withdrawal symptoms. And now they’re in the stacks when the full moon is highest. What used to be Jisun’s place is now theirs. Jiwon nips at Jisun’s bottom lip. She gasps at the hint of strawberry. Jisun feels a metal stud gliding past her teeth and pressing against her tongue. It doesn’t taste like iron. It tastes like life.

It used to be so quiet, but now Jisun’s nights are filled with music. Jiwon’s chuckles rumble from her chest like the soothing patter of rain. Their hushed whispers are like gusts of wind around the highest peaks on Earth. Jiwon holds her even closer, protectively, and nuzzles her cold nose into the crook of Jisun’s neck. She knows her girlfriend is ticklish. Jisun’s twinkling giggles remind her of chimes. Jiwon pulls back and suggests they move elsewhere. Preferably somewhere Jiwon can shout about how lucky she is to call Jisun hers. Her low, husky, soulful voice sends chills down Jisun’s spine. There’s a lull in their laughter. Jisun stares at her. Jiwon’s eyes are so gentle and clear. A thousand words of admiration swim in her dark brown irises. Her nose curves softly to a rounded tip. Her smile is genuine. Every word that slips past is more precious than diamonds.

“Jisun.”

Jisun nearly melts on the spot. How can her name sound so heavenly? She wants to hear it again. But she’s silent for too long. Jiwon’s eyebrows are furrowed. They frown at the same time for different reasons. Jisun notices how Jiwon’s cheek smooths out. Her favorite feature is gone before she can savor it. She almost whines. She misses it already.

“Jisun?” Jiwon repeats. Her tone sounds like broken glass, beautiful and fragile, laden with concern. She leans in close, forbidding others to eavesdrop on their time alone. “Is something wrong?”

The snort that bursts forth is so loud, so obnoxious and unladylike, Jisun slaps a hand over . They both whirl around in embarrassment. The groups chatting down the corridor don’t notice nor care about the couple in the corner. Jiwon turns back with wide questioning eyes and a blinding grin. The dimple Jisun loves so much reappears. Her heart swells as she leans forward and kisses the indent lightly.

Jisun whispers against Jiwon’s skin, “Wrong? Nothing has ever felt this right.”