Studying with Joohyun got off to a rocky start. Once the nearly paralyzing stress of the previous weeks was alleviated and Seungwan’s body left survival mode, she was hit by a wave of exhaustion that barely allowed her to get up in the morning and get to work. For the next couple of days, as soon as the clock ticked away her mandatory eight hours, she was out of the building and on her way home, where she collapsed on the bed without even bothering with dinner.

Joohyun didn’t try to push her to start their lessons, either. When they met after work, which was back to being a regular occurrence now that Seungwan wasn’t trying her best to avoid contact, she’d just rub her back comfortingly and encourage her to at least eat something.

Their celebratory dinner never even got to the dinner phase. She spent the subway ride excitedly catching up with Joohyun, surprised at how much she had to share after not even two weeks of separation. Their conversation continued as they walked the rest of the way home, Seungwan’s legs feeling unexpectedly heavy. She sat on the sofa while Joohyun prepared the food and the next thing she remembered was waking up in a dark, empty living room, lying down under a warm blanket. A glance at her phone confirmed that it was the middle of the night and, too comfortable and sleepy to imagine an alternative, she snuggled tighter into the blanket and closed her eyes.

They did have celebratory breakfast, but it was hard to properly celebrate when they were both rushing to get ready on time. Well, Seungwan was rushing. Joohyun got up at the crack of dawn to go jogging and was already showered and tending to the stove by the time Seungwan groggily pushed herself upright.

By the end of the week, it was clear that they couldn’t delay it much longer, so they finally decided that Saturday would be reserved entirely for studying. Seungwan knew she should probably be dreading the work, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be anything but excited at the prospect of a full day with Joohyun, even if she spent it wrapping her head around electromagnetism and optics.

Physics was still terrible, though. Not even Joohyun’s presence could change that.

“So, is there some logic behind these diffraction equations or am I just supposed to memorize them?” she asked, frowning at the exercises that had been occupying her for the past hour. Joohyun was taking the opportunity to iron, although she had to make frequent pauses to come over to the sofa and help Seungwan through the problems.

“Well, the best way would be to derive them from first principles using a complex wave formalism,” she said slowly, setting down the iron to ponder the issue further. “But it might be beyond the scope of the course.”

“It might be,” Seungwan squeaked out.

“I really don’t see the pedagogic value of presenting easily derived equations as axioms,” Joohyun remarked, reiterating her opinion on Yerim’s course for what was probably the tenth time that day. She moved over to sit by Seungwan, taking the pencil from her hands and reaching for an empty piece of paper. “I’ll show you the geometric reasoning. It’s grossly oversimplified, but it might make the expression easier to remember.”

Seungwan was extremely pleased with the simple and entirely inaccurate explanation, since it didn’t involve any derivatives or integrals and she actually understood all of the words being used. She had a feeling Yerim would have the same opinion on the subject. If Seungwan tried to make her learn about complex waves, she’d probably riot.

Joohyun finished ironing while Seungwan grappled with the remaining questions on interference. Once she was done putting the clothes away, she sat down by Seungwan’s side and examined the resolutions critically.

“Everything seems to be in order, I think you’ve got this chapter down,” she finally concluded with evident satisfaction. She patted Seungwan’s leg in approval, shooting her a small smile that she quickly returned.

Gathering the resolutions carefully into a plastic sleeve, she put them away in her backpack, where several similar sleeves were already stored, one for each chapter of the material. Then she retrieved the set of coloured pens reserved for note-taking.

“So, now we move to relativity, right?” she asked, green pen in hand to write down the chapter title at the top of the page. It was so much easier to be taught than to learn alone. She’d missed the comfort of having everything presented in small, harmless doses and not having to work through all her questions by herself. She almost let out a contented sigh, but she felt that it might be too much.

“No,” Joohyun replied simply, taking the pen from her hand and placing it back near the others. “Now we take a break,” she said with a cheeky smile.

“We took a break for lunch,” Seungwan pointed out doubtfully.

“Yes, and now we’re taking another one.” Joohyun’s eager eyes were hard to resist, especially when Seungwan’s conscience was pulling her in two different directions. She felt the responsibility of her commitment to Yerim, but she also felt guilty at taking away Joohyun’s weekend like this. After all, the woman was doing her a huge favour.

“You’ve worked a lot since lunch,” Joohyun carried on, clearly intent on convincing her overachieving student. “And now I’m done with all my laundry and it’s still light out. I want to go to the park,” she finished, voice lingering on the last word with a hint of a whine.

“The park?”

“The one you took me to,” she elaborated, already looking a little surer of her success. “It was very pretty and quiet. The fresh air would help you clear your head and we can study more afterwards, if you want.”

“Isn’t it a little cold for the park?“ she attempted weakly. Joohyun was grinning widely now and Seungwan knew that she was just delaying the inevitable.

“I’ll wear a coat,” her friend replied, already up from the sofa and moving to the door. She sighed and followed her lead.

“Alright, we’ll go, but only because I stole your Saturday,” she reasoned, more for her own benefit that anything.

“What do you mean?” She followed Seungwan’s eyes as they turned to her pile of notes meaningfully. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. It was fun. But if you feel so guilty, you can buy me ice cream,” she added mischievously as Seungwan quirked a sceptical eyebrow.

“It’s definitely too cold for ice cream!” she tried to argue, but Joohyun was already out of the door.

(…)

The field by the pond was even less populated than the previous time, probably because fewer people enjoyed the outdoors this far into Autumn. As they stepped into the clearing, the sound of leaves crunching under their feet grew more sporadic. Here, there were only a few flecks of orange, blown away from the trees and closer to the water when the wind picked up.

Joohyun seemed enraptured. Once captivated by the unbroken expanse of green that bordered the deep blue sky, she was now equally content to study the palette of warm colours painting the canopy of the woods. Thick white clouds drifted lazily across the light blue above them, casting patterns of shadows on the grass.

While her friend gazed thoughtfully at the surface of the pond, following the path of the few solitary spots of yellow and orange that had found their way to the water, Seungwan busied herself setting down their blanket. She’d managed to drag Joohyun back inside before she was down the stairs, insisting that they had to at least bring something to sit on.

She tugged on Joohyun’s hand gently, guiding her down to the blanket, where she sat with an apologetic smile. They both settled comfortably, then remained side by side in silence. She gave Joohyun space to take in the sight, much like she’d done on their previous visit, and slowly let her mind drift.

It was her favourite thing about places like this. When she surrounded herself with the gentle sounds of nature, be it bird calls and scuttering paws in the warmer months or, like today, rustling leaves and rippling water, she felt light, free. She would close her eyes, feel the breeze on her hair or the sun on her skin, and she’d slowly let her thoughts wander.

She never did it for too long, always snapping back to reality quickly as she turned to share something with Seulgi, or answer a question she’d posed, or simply to get up and move onwards, follow a darting squirrel or look for a gazebo that should be around here somewhere. Joohyun was quieter, less prone to motion and questioning, and Seungwan wondered how far her mind would be allowed to drift with nothing pulling it back.

She was lazily pondering this question when she gradually became aware of a rhythmic distraction that slowly resolved itself into a soft pressure on her leg that kept disappearing as quickly as it made itself known. Pulling her eyes away from the distant blue that had enthralled them, she brought them down to where she sat and saw at last that Joohyun was softly bumping their knees together.

She was studying Seungwan silently, an undecipherable smile playing on her lips. At the look of recognition that slowly dawned on Seungwan’s eyes, the smile grew wider and more playful. “Is it working?” she asked enigmatically. Seungwan only furrowed her brow in confusion, still chasing her scattered thoughts back into the present. “The break. Did it get your mind away from work?”

She bit back a smile which threatened to take over her face and simply nodded. “Shouldn’t you be enjoying the view?” she retorted teasingly. “You can look at me whenever you want.”

“You don’t always look like this,” Joohyun pointed out, reaching out to tap her finger on the tip of Seungwan’s nose. She nearly crossed her eyes trying to follow its trajectory, which drew a small giggle from Joohyun. “You were off in your own world. It was cute.”

Ignoring the stutter in her heart at Joohyun calling her cute, she readjusted her position on the blanket and gazed out at the pond. The wind had disturbed its surface, causing little waves to drift in all directions, colliding against each other and combining chaotically. They should probably go back before the sun started setting and the temperature dropped, but she didn’t want to return to her studies quite yet, so she searched for something to delay the inevitable.

“So, why did you study all that physics in college?” she finally asked. It had been the first thing to spring to mind, since her thoughts were already on the topic, but it was something she’d wondered before.

“Well, I was very interested in the area. I considered pursuing it as a specialization, especially the computational side, the development and study of physical models. That required taking programming classes and somewhere along the way I realized that the programming was what I truly enjoyed.”

“And now you do neural networks,” Seungwan finished for her. Joohyun smiled, apparently amused at her phrasing, and nodded in confirmation.

“And you?” Joohyun asked in return. The wind picked up for a moment and a handful of colourful leaves blew past them, greenish yellow, ochre and vibrant vermillion flitting across their field of vision before settling down among their fellow outcasts.

“Physics? I had like one class, I don’t really remember most of it.”

“No,” she began with a giggle. “I meant, how did you end up working at a morgue?”

“Oh. I was kind of hoping that wasn’t the question.” Joohyun seemed about to intervene, probably to free her from answering, but she waved it off. “It’s fine, it’s just not that interesting. I always had good grades and at some point it was kind of established that I was going to be a doctor. And then one day I realized I didn’t even want to do it that much. And the thought of all that studying and exams and competition just… Really stressed me out. So I started looking for what else I could do with my qualifications, and I found this. I’m really happy about it, actually. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’d be compatible with the stress of medicine. Like, at all.”

She leaned forward to pick at some grass, a little embarrassed after her long speech. It was always awkward to share how she’d arrived at her job through the exciting process of giving up, even if it had been in the name of her own mental health and well-being.

“Sounds like you made a good decision,” Joohyun broke through her reverie before it could truly begin. “It can be difficult to make a change once you’ve committed yourself to a path.”

Joohyun really had a disconcerting habit of saying just the right thing. It was sure to get one of them in trouble eventually. “I guess you used that one on Yerim before, huh?” Seungwan asked jokingly, pulling the conversation to lighter ground. She watched as a leaf swirled in chaotic patterns, landing between them on the blanket. There, it sat stubbornly, its tips blowing under the wind’s insistent caress, before it finally relinquished its hold and drew ever closer to the water.

“Well, it was very different for Yerim. She always knew what she wanted, she just needed to realize that it was her choice to make,” Joohyun replied earnestly. Seungwan wasn’t sure whether she’d missed the joke or simply elected to ignore it. “Although I worry that she’s taken her newfound independence a bit too far,” she added with a small grin.

“I’m way past worrying,” Seungwan replied simply, earning a wider grin and a chuckle for her trouble. “Next time she asks me for something, I’m going to dump her on you so fast,” she continued, although the smile on her own face belied the sharpness of her words. And probably their veracity, if she was being completely honest.

Joohyun seemed to notice as much, because she quickly sobered up, studying her with some worry. “I can still talk to her,” she suggested, although Seungwan was quick to decline the suggestion. “I don’t think she realized the amount of stress this would cause you. If you explain it to her, I’m sure she’d reconsider.”

“It wasn’t just the studying,” she admitted after some hesitation. “I’ve been feeling a little lost lately, like I’m not really in control of my life. And I guess the whole learning something from scratch with huge expectations fed on that, and into that, and grew into this whole… thing. Great synergy,” she finished with a weak attempt at humour, wishing Joohyun’s eyes hadn’t softened like that. Some things would be a lot easier if they just went back to being unreadable and closed off.

She gazed far away, trying to erase Joohyun’s concerned face from her peripheral vision. She finally noticed that there were no ducks in the pond. It made sense, they must be making their way south by now. “But it’s better now. You really helped with the physics and things feels more manageable,” she said slowly, feeling all the right words dancing just out of her reach. “And the other stuff, I’m… working on that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? With the stuff.” It was almost cute, the way she said it. Seungwan felt a hand cover her own, offering its comforting presence. A shiver ran down her back at the contact and it took her a moment to realize that it was because Joohyun’s hand was absolutely freezing.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said absently, turning around to study her friend. The thoughts were driven further out of her mind by the sight that greeted her. “Joohyun, your lips are turning purple!”

“Oh, that,” she replied absently. “I don’t react very well to the cold,” she admitted with a shrug.

Seungwan was already shrugging off her coat and throwing it on her. She rubbed her arms vigorously in an attempt to improve her circulation. “Why did you want to come to the park, then?” she muttered unhappily.

“I was fine until the sun started setting,” Joohyun replied, sounding amused at the way her body was being jerked around by Seungwan’s overzealous efforts to warm her. It was only then that Seungwan realized how the entire field was covered in shadow, as the sun had clearly fallen below the treetops.

She jumped up, almost knocking Joohyun out of balance, then pulled her up as well and reached for the blanket. Instead of folding it, she draped it across Joohyun’s shoulders and pulled it tightly around her arms, which she rubbed a few more times for good measure. Her freezing companion giggled at the precautions, then opened her arms widely, ignoring Seungwan’s scandalized complaints, and stepped forward to pull her into a hug that left them both covered by the blanket.

“I need human warmth,” she explained with a lopsided grin as she latched onto Seungwan’s arm and awaited her guidance. She only rolled her eyes, offering no further resistance to the proximity. Joohyun’s hand was still dreadfully cold and the rest of her couldn’t be much better, so Seungwan’s only concern was in giving her as much heat as she could.

They rushed through the park, nearly empty at this late hour. As they neared a familiar area, Joohyun perked up, pulling at Seungwan’s arm to force her to slow down. “Buy me ice cream,” she requested, clinging closer to Seungwan.

“Absolutely not, you’ll turn into a block of ice,” she replied immediately, scandalized at the suggestion. Joohyun tugged harder, almost bringing them to a stop.

“I’m already getting warmer,” she claimed stubbornly.

“How can you be this shameless? I can feel your freezing hand.”

“Hands are always cold,” she replied with wide eyes. Seungwan sighed exaggeratedly and pulled her hand out from the blanket to hold it against Joohyun’s cheek, which was, as expected, colder than a glacier. “Cheeks are always cold, too,” she quickly added before Seungwan could even speak.

They stood silently in a contest of wills, Seungwan’s hand growing colder between Joohyun’s face and the cool dusk air. Then Joohyun’s lips grew into a determined smile. “Guess what I’m thinking.”

“No,” Seungwan dead-panned in response.

“Come on, guess what I’m thinking,” she insisted. The day was growing darker all around them and it was only going to get colder. And Joohyun was stubborn.

“Fine, you’re thinking about ice cream.”

The triumph which had already been growing in Joohyun’s eyes suddenly receded, temporarily replaced by surprise and then displeasure. Her lips drew into an adorable pout and Seungwan almost ran her quickly numbing thumb over it before her mind caught up to the situation and she drew her hand back into the safety of the blanket.

She mentally scolded herself as her fingers threaded around Joohyun’s once more. Now that she’d accepted her feelings, it felt like a wall had been lifted from between them, and restraints that she’d carefully put into place had been cast aside. On moments like this, when she looked into Joohyun’s eyes, it was easy to forget that she was the only one who felt it. But she couldn’t lose their friendship over something as silly as a thoughtless caress. She had to be more careful, to follow Joohyun’s lead.

Fingers like icicles wrapped tightly around her already cold hand and she almost yelped at the sensation. Joohyun smirked evilly, showing no intention of letting go.

Seungwan was so lucky.

“Now come on, you can’t teach me about relativity if your mouth freezes shut.”