The next weekend, Seungwan borrowed Seulgi’s camera and she and Joohyun went to the park again. Spring had only just arrived, chasing out the last hints of frost with light steps. Everywhere, life began anew with timid but unmistakeable bursts of green that coated the trees and the ground in long-missed colour.

Seungwan took deep breaths that no longer burned her lungs with cold and let the smell of nature invade her. Not yet heavy with the aroma of dozens of different flowers, it was the sharp scent of a dormant world awakening from a deep sleep, stretching out limbs that were b with energy.

Everything seemed fragile, like it was only in the moment of awakening that the frailty of that deathly sleep truly became evident. She was almost afraid of stepping on the newly-sprung grass, fearful that the slightest setback would throw off the whole balance of life and leave the park to wither, grey and dying even as the world around it grew warm and bright.

Joohyun barely spoke, her attention drawn to every sight. She gazed with adoration at each trembling leaf, each sprouting blade of grass, sweeping every inch of the park with searching eyes. She wondered aloud whether there would be any flowers yet, her voice barely above a whisper to avoid disturbing the peaceful world around her.

Seungwan reached out to take hold of her hand, gently guiding her to their usual spot before she got completely carried away with her observations and wandered off. The contact seemed to snap her out of her distracted state somewhat and she turned to face Seungwan with an excited smile. It was wide, as beautiful as always, but it awakened the same sensation of frailty in Seungwan, like Joohyun’s happiness was also suspended by a thread. Like a single misstep would stomp it out.

They spent hours in that small clearing by the lake, taking picture after picture, unable to decide what they wanted. Should one of them be in the photograph, or neither, or both? Should they try to recreate the winter picture or go for whatever looked best now? It wasn’t the gut-wrenching kind of indecision, the one that taunted Seungwan with the weight of consequence. It was light and airy and harmless, born from being equally happy with all possibilities. From having no particular interest in cutting their time short.

So they chased each other around the lake, moving between the dappled shade of the half- trees and the weak sunlight, not quite warm enough to provide unpleasant heat, but still chasing away the numbing cold of winter.

They stopped when the sun set and the park grew dark around them. They had far too many photos to choose from, so they decided to leave the selection for another day. Seungwan felt giddy, filled with the silly glee of having an excuse to see her friend again, even when they’d clearly moved past needing a reason to meet. She let their intertwined hands swing between them as they walked, her happy energy infecting Joohyun and leaving them both with wide grins on their faces.

After a dinner of take-out, they rested on Joohyun’s sofa, sitting side by side. This time, it was Seungwan’s head that rested on Joohyun’s shoulder, just like when she’d been sick. She felt tired and full and all the excitement of the day slowly drained away, leaving her in a strange mood.

Relationships were strange things. They weren’t linear, never made sense in the way that they should. Some of the happiest days she’d ever spent with her exes had been when she was already certain they were going to break up. In their final stretches, when she saw the dark day growing near, felt them getting tired of her, pulling away, there’d sometimes be a day when everything went right. When they went out and had fun and didn’t once argue or lapse into awkward, strained silence.

Maybe it was the knowledge that it was inevitable. The comfort of no longer wondering when and how she would mess up. She was finally able to relax and let things run their course. In those moments, she almost wanted to hang on, to fight for what they had, or what they could have if only the happy days weren’t so rare. But it was better to accept them as they were and let them grow into happy memories, instead of ruining them with more worrying, more uncertainty.

Sitting on the sofa with Joohyun, lethargic in her warm comforting presence, Seungwan knew that the feeling wasn’t exactly the same. It couldn’t be, when they weren’t even dating. When Joohyun showed no sign of wanting to leave. But it was the same foreboding kind of happiness. It made her restless, even as her body rested lazily against pillows and Joohyun’s pliant frame.

And suddenly, without any warning, a million thoughts began to swarm in her head, jump-starting her heart. Thoughts of Seulgi, Sooyoung, Yerim, even Joohyun herself. All telling her to do it. Hurry up and do it. Just tell her. Trying her best not to startle her human pillow, who sat looking off into nowhere with an arm wrapped carelessly around her waist, she took a few uneven breaths and clenched her hands into tight fists in a vain effort to fight the sensation.

Her heart hammered against her chest with sudden intensity, fear rising up out of nowhere and nearly choking her. She needed to tell her, everyone said she did, but the mere thought of it froze her in place. She couldn’t do it, she wasn’t brave enough, she simply wasn’t. She was just Seungwan, small and scared and with no idea how to do any of this.

She couldn’t do it and they’d all hate her for it. They deserved a better friend, a better person. Especially Joohyun. She deserved someone who loved her the way she should be loved, someone who loved her enough to try. Someone who knew how to get out of this limbo of knowing but not knowing, someone who was smart enough to stop lying to herself, or at least to stop believing it so readily.

She felt the tears begin to gather at the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away furiously. She’d done it, in a way, hadn’t she? She’d said it twice. And maybe Joohyun hadn’t understood it because she didn’t want to understand, had given her a graceful way out on both occasions. Maybe it was reasonable to give up now. Maybe she could tell Seulgi about it and she’d agree and the pressure always building in Seungwan’s chest would ease a little.

She hadn’t been talking to Seulgi about any of this. Any of her clumsy confessions or confused feelings or constant cold feet. The rational part of herself told her that Seulgi wouldn’t blame her for it, that she was being a bad friend by even considering it. But she felt guilty for always pushing back against Seulgi’s well-meaning advice, guilty for not following through, guilty for hiding her failures. It all grew into a thick knot in that she could barely swallow around.

The tears returned and she blinked even harder, clenching her jaw at the effort to keep them at bay. Joohyun finally seemed to notice her fidgeting and was about to turn her way, so she slid her face to burrow into Joohyun’s neck, protected from her questioning gaze. The room was dark enough that a glisten in her eyes wouldn’t give her away, but she worried that any prodding would push her over the edge.

She took a moment to collect herself, then wrapped both hands around Joohyun’s and hummed into her shoulder. “I should go home, it’s getting late,” she said in a low voice, trying to keep its roughness concealed.

“Oh,” Joohyun replied, like the suggestion had caught her by surprise. She tried again to look at Seungwan, but she wouldn’t budge, only tightening her hold on Joohyun’s hand to hopefully signal something positive. That she was alright, or that they were alright, or something like that. “You can stay here, if you want. Not sleep, if that’s not... But stay a little longer. If you want.”

Her voice was low as well, but it didn’t really make sense to speak any louder anyway; they were the only two in the silent apartment, inches away from each other. Seungwan finally pulled back, quickly turning to face away from Joohyun, whose eyes were still fixed on her.

“Actually, I’m a little tired. It’s been a long day,” she tried, her voice a little more even than before. As long as she didn’t look at Joohyun on her way out, she was sure she could make it. “I kind of want to be alone for a while.”

She got up from the sofa, waiting for the shuffling sound of Joohyun following suit and trailing behind her. She barely managed a couple of steps before Joohyun’s voice sounded at her back.

“I thought being with me was better than being alone,” she said playfully. Seungwan froze at the words, reminded of a time long past, when they were still getting to know each other. When she began to feel like Joohyun actually wanted her around. She wished she could go back to how she’d felt then, to the excitement at a whole new world of possibilities unfolding before her eyes. But she knew, she’d known it even then. There was no going back to those peaceful beginnings.

“I guess it’s not that simple,” she tried to quip back, but her voice couldn’t quite dip into lightness. The words weighed between them, hollow and lifeless. Heavy with finality. And there was no answer from Joohyun, who only stood motionless.

She knew it had been a mistake right away. Because Joohyun remembered, she’d committed those words to memory, they meant something to her.

Panic and uncertainty returning in full force, she hurried to the exit, but she was stopped in her tracks by a hand clutching her arm tightly.

“What does that mean?” Joohyun asked as she pulled on her arm, forcing her to turn around and finally face her. And it was like something had snapped. She looked… Seungwan wasn’t sure what it was because she’d never seen it before. She looked hurt and sad and angry and impatient all at once and it was honestly a little scary.

“I don’t…” she began, but never finished the sentence. She only gazed at Joohyun with wide eyes, arm hanging limply in her grip.

Luckily, the silence only lasted for a second before Joohyun carried on. “Do you really think you could just say something like that and it wouldn’t have an effect on me? Don’t you realize how that would hurt me?” she demanded with an anger that now seemed entirely superficial, spreading only far enough to conceal the pain underneath.

“You keep pushing me back and acting like I won’t notice. But I do notice, Seungwan. How could I not?” Joohyun continued as the anger slipped away entirely, and now it was in her beautiful brown eyes that the tears began to glisten. Her hand released Seungwan’s arm like she finally noticed she’d been gripping it, but the fingers remained wrapped loosely around her wrist.

“I have feelings too,” she concluded softly, looking down at the ground like she was embarrassed of her outburst. But she was right. Seungwan had been so preoccupied with fighting her own treacherous emotions that she hadn’t stopped to consider Joohyun and how she might feel in all this. She only ever thought of it to punish herself, never to correct her course, to soften her actions.

She didn’t have to be so evasive, to always pull away at the last minute. She could be honest. She could set boundaries instead of squirming as she let Joohyun step over them. She could have said that she didn’t want to talk, that she wanted to go home and cry alone. But she insisted on leaving things half done. On putting up her walls half-built, so that Joohyun could still leap over them if she tried. On hoping that she’d leap, instead of just tearing the whole thing down or building them all up or something. Instead of just doing something.

She realized that she was crying when her vision began to blur. Joohyun didn’t notice right away, still avoiding her gaze. It was only when her knees grew weak and she let herself drop to the floor that Joohyun finally started to life, the hand that was holding a wrist suddenly grasping at air. She knelt down at once, hands resting on either side of Seungwan’s face as her thumbs wiped away the tears.

“I’m sorry,” Seungwan mumbled in a thick voice, trying to look anywhere but Joohyun, which was hard because her face covered nearly her entire field of vision. She settled for focusing on her nose, because at least she could avoid those eyes filled with concern. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated with a sob.

“Seungwan, it’s alright,” Joohyun immediately reassured. She clearly hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, but she quickly adapted, murmuring soothing words as she continued to wipe away the endless tears. “It’s alright, everything’s fine.”

Seungwan shook her head, unwilling to accept the empty platitudes. It wasn’t alright, she knew that much. Everything was ruined and it was her fault. “It’s all my fault”, she added out loud, clutching at Joohyun’s wrists to pull the hands away but then not pulling them away at all, only clinging to them like a lifeline.

“I’m so sorry, Joohyun. I’m just so tired. I’m so tired,” she breathed out in a trembling voice. Her stuffy nose and the hiccupping sobs that she couldn’t prevent made it so that she could only breathe in sharp, irregular gasps.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay,” Joohyun repeated gently, her thumbs no longer wiping at tears but simply caressing her cheeks softly. She leaned forward to press a kiss to Seungwan’s forehead, the pressure grounding if only for that moment. Then she let her hands fall to grasp Seungwan’s. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? I don’t think you really want to be alone right now.”

The sobbing stopped, as did the tears. Seungwan felt like maybe even her heart stopped for a second. Because Joohyun was just too good. She was too good to be real. She was too kind and gentle and selfless. Even after all Seungwan had done, she was still right here in front of her, offering her presence, her comforting words, her help. Even after Seungwan had hurt her so badly that she’d finally let it show.

She clung to Joohyun’s hands tightly and let her eyes drift up to meet hers. She looked so soft in the near darkness, soft even in her confusion and concern. She looked so beautiful and sweet. Seungwan leaned forward, using her grip on Joohyun to steady herself. And she kissed her.

The first contact of their lips sent a shock through her entire body, but it wasn’t the pleasant sensation of finally getting something she’d wanted for so long. In this instance, it was pure, unadulterated panic and instant regret. It jolted her body into action, so that she nearly fell over her feet as she pulled herself up clumsily. She could only hope that Joohyun would be frozen by surprise and then she could escape without dealing with this and possibly book an overnight flight to Iceland or somewhere equally remote.

She had no such luck. A hand wrapped itself around her arm yet again, but this time it didn’t simply hold her in place. It pulled her back until she was staggering away from the door and deeper into the apartment.

“Oh no you don’t,” Joohyun huffed out, sounding almost indignant. The back of Seungwan’s knees hit the edge of the sofa and she fell backwards, landing on the cushions she and Joohyun had been sitting on not long ago. She only had the time to scoot down the sofa’s length before Joohyun landed on top of her, arms and legs keeping her trapped in place. “Will you stop running away from me?” she asked, a little breathless after her attack.

When Seungwan looked up at her, she could only think that she looked beautiful. Her hair fell in curtains around Seungwan’s face, a little mussed by all this moving around. Her eyes seemed to shine in the dark room and her lips glistened as she them. Seungwan wanted to look in her eyes and figure out how she felt about the kiss, she really did, but she couldn’t look away from those lips.

“Am I dreaming again?” she asked hazily. It really began to seem like she might be, with the way Joohyun still hovered above her and only looked at her without a word. Those alluring lips began to curve into a smile. She finally looked up and saw Joohyun’s brows furrowed in confusion, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Again?” she questioned in a voice that seemed suddenly light. At least she wasn’t angry. That was probably good. Unless Seungwan really was dreaming. Then she supposed it didn’t matter.

But it didn’t feel like a dream. Joohyun’s limbs looked solid enough, her hair tickled Seungwan’s face, she could even see the subtle way her chest rose and fell as she breathed. And usually when she realized she was dreaming she’d wake up, so this might not be a dream after all. So she really had kissed Joohyun. And now she was lying underneath her on the sofa.

“It’s… a long story,” she finally remembered to answer. Her gaze fluttered between Joohyun’s eyes and , which remained curved in a small smile.

“Well, here’s a shorter story,” Joohyun replied quickly, and it wasn’t the smoothest thing to say, but it was Joohyun saying it, on top of her, so it still sounded more eloquent than Shakespeare.

“I’m in love with you,” she added after a pause. Seungwan was fairly certain that she’d have fallen down if she weren’t already completely horizontal.

“Oh,” she said after a few moments of soundlessly moving her lips as she searched for words. Joohyun looked into her eyes with unnerving intensity and it was making it very hard to focus on putting words next to other words and saying intelligent things. Honestly, she’d settle for intelligible.

“You’re way better at confessing than me,” she finally managed.

Joohyun’s lips stretched into a bright smile. She hadn’t said anything that amusing, had she? “Why are you smiling?” she asked self-consciously, but Joohyun’s smile only grew.

“You’re smiling too,” she answered simply, and Seungwan realized that she was right. She was smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt, but she simply couldn’t stop.

“I guess I’m happy,” she said with a chuckle of surprise.

The arms on either side of her began to tremble and she finally noticed Joohyun’s awkward position. She reached out to her waist, wordlessly pulling her in, and Joohyun lowered herself until she was comfortably settled, half on the sofa and half on top of Seungwan.

Then she wrapped arms and legs around her and squeezed tightly, like she was making sure that Seungwan wouldn’t run off again. Seungwan let herself be crushed under those thin arms without a complaint, even hugging Joohyun back as best as she could with one arm pinned against her body by Joohyun’s embrace.

After a moment of silent hugging that felt too short to even begin thinking about what had just happened, Joohyun released her grip and pulled back to face her. Her eyes twinkled with barely contained happiness and Seungwan was sure she’d never looked so beautiful. Then she noticed them drifting to her lips with increasing frequency and her heart began to pick up speed alarmingly.

“May I kiss you?” Joohyun asked in a whisper, her eyes now permanently fixed on Seungwan’s mouth as its owner struggled to process the words. As soon as she did, she nodded with probably excessive enthusiasm, but Joohyun didn’t seem to notice. She only leaned in, slowly, hesitantly, to close the space between them.

The amount of emotions that had taken hold of Seungwan as the day passed was almost mind-boggling. She’d gone from energetic and happy to deflated and hopeless, to stressed out, to guilt-ridden and panicked, to perplexed, to this. Whatever this was. There had to be a word stronger than happy, because happy didn’t begin to cover it. It’d probably be easier to come up with the right word if she weren’t so busy being consumed with feeling it to the utmost.

It would be reasonable that after all the exhausting events of the day, after she’d broken down crying and been given the shock of her life with Joohyun’s confession, she might be a little numb to new sensations.

It would be reasonable but entirely incorrect. Because she felt that kiss more vividly than any other in her life. It was like she’d never kissed anyone before. Like she’d been doing something else, not quite the same, and now that she felt the real thing it became obvious that she’d been settling for a cheap imitation all this time.

It felt perfect. Joohyun’s lips were soft and supple as they pressed against hers, the very first touch bringing forth a burst of joy from the depths of her chest, so that she could barely resist smiling into the kiss. Still, Joohyun seemed to be doing just the same, so she didn’t feel too bad about the impulse.

A hand rested against her cheek, pulling her even closer as Joohyun’s head tilted to further the kiss. Her tongue brushed against Seungwan’s lips and wow, she was more confident than Seungwan had expected. Not that she’d ever thought about it with too much detail, of course. Entirely by instinct, Seungwan’s lips parted in response and Joohyun pressed even closer to her.

Seungwan began to feel dizzy. She tried to take a deep breath, but was only met with a strange resistance. Right. She pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily through .

“Stuffy nose,” she explained between gasps. She expected a giggle or some sort of amused response, but Joohyun only blinked at her, looking a little distant. Eventually, she recovered enough to flash her a shy smile and Seungwan felt a strange sense of pride at the thought that she’d managed to daze Joohyun.

“I should go blow my nose. And wash my face,” she said after a few seconds of comfortable silence broken by short pecks. She grimaced as she remembered that she probably looked all puffy and red. She was not looking forward to seeing that in the bathroom mirror.

She began to move out of Joohyun’s embrace, but she was pulled back into another deep kiss that left her even more breathless than the first, mostly because she herself didn’t want to pull away.

When she did break the kiss, no longer able to put off the need for oxygen, she remained so close to Joohyun that their breaths mingled. She watched wordlessly as Joohyun gazed at her with the same dazed eyes as before. Would it always be like this? Or would she eventually grow used to Seungwan’s kisses? She couldn’t imagine that a person could go their whole life losing functionality after every kiss.

Joohyun her lips and Seungwan already wanted to kiss her again. “You’re staying the night,” she suddenly announced in a voice that Seungwan had never heard before. It was low, breathy and absolutely irresistible. And then she noticed that Joohyun was staring at her lips again and the panic came back, just a little.

“I, uh, maybe that’s going a little fast?” she squeaked out, pulling away slightly and trying not to look as nervous as she felt.

Joohyun looked confused for a moment, then laughed lightly, trying to pull Seungwan back into her arms. “Oh, I didn’t mean that,” she said in a clearer voice, sounding amused but looking a little flushed at the suggestion. Of course, Seungwan was sure that she was blushing much harder because how embarrassing was it that she had misunderstood it like that?

“I meant sleep here with me,” she added, giving Seungwan a quick kiss for emphasis. Or maybe just because.

“Oh, okay, sure, sounds good,” Seungwan fired off quickly, eager to escape the topic. “Now I really should go blow my nose.” Joohyun whined and tightened her grip around her. “If I blow my nose, we can kiss properly,” she offered placatingly, and this finally made Joohyun release her.

“I’ll go with you,” she declared as she got up to follow her.

“Uh, I’d rather you not see this face in proper lighting,” Seungwan retorted in a joking tone.

 Wow, not even an hour in and she was already resorting to self-deprecating humour. She disguised the momentary insecurity with a grin, but Joohyun didn’t seem fazed.

“I’m sure it looks beautiful.”

Seungwan couldn’t suppress a snort at the casual words. “Why?”

Joohyun shrugged, absently brushing away the wrinkles in her clothes. “Because it always does.”

Oh.

The full incredibility of Joohyun’s feelings for her began to hit her. Joohyun actually liked her. Wanted to kiss her. Thought she was pretty, beautiful even. How could that have possibly happened?

“Now I believe you said something about kissing properly,” Joohyun pointed out with a crooked grin, snapping Seungwan away from her train of thought. She reached for her hand, easily intertwining their fingers, and pulled her to the bathroom with an enthusiasm that Seungwan couldn’t help but mirror.

She was happy. They were happy. She could worry later.