Wheein remembers being thirteen years old and pinned against a tree by the already taller Hyejin. She vaguely remembers the sting of her scraped knees and the tears that had dried on her cheeks after a schoolboy bully pushed her from the swings. Hyejin had pushed the boy in return and threatened a punch before Wheein pulled her away.

"Wheeinie, you have to learn to protect yourself," Hyejin had said.

So Wheein kicked her in the shin.

She remembers how Hyejin crumpled to the ground in pain, but shot her a thumbs up.

She wonders if the same kick would be useful against the blonde woman keeping her pinned against the wall now. She regrets not wearing her steel-toed boots; she expects they would be super effective against tall, blonde, irritating hamsters.

Yep. If Wheein just focuses on these memories and thoughts about kicking Byulyi's shin then maybe she can ignore how loudly her heart is hammering against her chest at their close proximity or how Byulyi's breath smells like coffee and cinnamon or how it's sweltering inside the storage room yet all she wants is to pull Byulyi closer against her.

Her thoughts are scrambled by the loud ringing of Byulyi's phone from her back pocket. As if like clockwork, Byulyi retrieves the phone and silences it in a quick swipe before slipping it back in her pocket, all without taking her eyes off Wheein. Wheein doesn't want to snoop, but it's difficult not to see the default caller ID for an unregistered number when they're that close. Wheein wonders if it's another one of Byulyi's many nighttime partners and her irritation returns full force.

"Look, Wheein-ssi," Byulyi finally says, her face turning serious. "I know you remember what happened last night. You wouldn't be following me if you didn't."

Even though she knows it's futile, Wheein protests. "I was not following you."

Byulyi cracks a teasing smile. "You're small, but you aren't subtle at all." Wheein really will kick her in the shin if she keeps this up.

The light tone falters in the next moment and Byulyi's eyes harden. "Last night was a mistake. My mistake. I assure you it will not happen again."

Wheein wants to scoff but stops herself. What Byulyi is offering is exactly what she had been looking for - a way to sweep the entire thing under the rug and maintain a completely professional relationship for the rest of the semester. Sure, her pride is bruised at being labelled as a mistake, but she knows it's what necessary in the long run so she nods in agreement, causing Byulyi's brow to raise in shock. "I totally understand, Moon-nim." Wheein tries and fails to ignore the slight downturn of Byulyi's lips at the formal address. "We were both not thinking clearly."

Not thinking clearly is an understatement. Wheein is sure she had completely lost her mind the night before. Even in her most drunken state, she had been quite adept at parrying flirtatious advances from both guys and girls. She wonders if the stress of nearly losing her scholarship had rattled her mind. She wonders if Moon Byulyi is coming up with a similarly flimsy excuse in her mind.

Byulyi pulls back slightly to rub the back of her neck. "I'm... I'm hoping we can put this behind us. We have an entire semester ahead of us and-"

Wheein nods, cutting off Byulyi's words. "Yeah, I got it. You don't have to worry too. I'm not going to blackmail you or anything. I earn my grade." If there's one thing Wheein is sure of at the moment, it's that. She doesn't think she would do so even at her most desperate.

Byulyi's smile softens and she releases a small sigh of relief. Wheein feels a noticeable shift in the air as Byulyi rests her forehead on the arm propped against the door, putting her lips treacherously close to Wheein's ear. "Then I'm looking forward to your participation in my class, Miss Jung."

Wheein's sure the comment is meant to be playful, something to ease the tension between them perhaps, but the intended effect is subverted by their proximity and the heat beneath their skins. Wheein doesn't know who initiates it, but the two of them are soon engulfed in a flurry of heated kisses and hands that gripped and caressed every bit of exposed flesh. The taste of Byulyi's tongue on hers is familiar and intoxicating, and the tugging of slender fingers in her hair is deliciously painful. She doesn't know why they've spent hours not kissing each other when it's this breathtaking.

Wheein pulls Byulyi's tie loose and makes quick work of the first few buttons on the older woman's shirt. Their kiss breaks only for Whee