Joohyun feels cold.
 

It starts at the tip of her toes which are not covered by the blanket wrapped around her form. Gradually, it takes over her entire body, and she shivers in discomfort.
 

Subconsciously, she reaches across the bed, somehow knowing there should be someone there to bring her warmth. Her lips lift at the thought, but her heart stops when all she feels is the slide of cold sheets against her fingers.
 

Her eyes flutter open, her heart resuming its usual pace even as a huge pang of disappointment and hurt drives away the cold.
 

The hurt makes her stand up, untangling herself from the blanket as she blearily looks for her phone amongst the clothes scattered across the carpet.
 

Finding the device hidden beneath her jeans and underwear, she bites her lip at the sudden rush of memories from last night, when said clothing were practically ripped from her body by feverish hands that somehow knew exactly where to touch, where to dig, how to worship.
 

She picks up the phone with shaky hands, and she checks the time.
 

7:07.
 

Early. Early enough. They probably had both fallen asleep in satisfied exhaustion around four.
 

If Seungwan were to run away from her to the other side of the world once more, hopefully her flight hasn’t taken off yet so she could give her a piece of her mind.
 

And her heart, if she would let her.
 

Joohyun closes her eyes in regret, realizing that she probably should have been clearer about the latter last night.
 

She searches her contact list for the new number Seungwan had given her yesterday, praying that it isn’t a fake one.
 

It rings and rings, and bit by bit, Joohyun loses hope.
 

Click.
 

“Hello?”
 

Joohyun doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until it rushes out of her in a sigh of relief. “…Where are you?”
 

The silence at the other end of the line is almost tangible. Internally, Joohyun begs, please don’t hang up. Please.
 

“…Home.”
 

Even though Seungwan had given her a South Korean number, she needs to be sure. “In Canada?”
 

She hears Seungwan release a breath, almost like a short laugh. “No. In Seoul.”
 

With that one word, hope and relief bloom in Joohyun’s heart. She sits on the bed and tugs the blanket to her lap, finally noticing how cold it is again.
 

“You left,” Joohyun says, voice laced with hurt. She knows she’s pouting, but she can’t help it. She may be 31, but she feels like a teenager all over again, crushing on pretty girls who were way too good for her.
 

(Or maybe just one pretty girl.)
 

“I…I did.”
 

“Why?” Joohyun asks. “Am I just a one-night stand to you, Seungwan-ah?”
 

“I…” She can practically hear Seungwan’s brain working, thinking of what to say, or maybe what not to.

The thing is, Joohyun wants to hear all of it. She’s tired of the secrets, from the both of them. She’d strained to push every single thought she had about how beautiful and good and wonderful Seungwan is back when they were still in Red Velvet. How there are three others she loves as well, but only one can make her lose her breath and feel like she could breathe again all at once. She’d struggled but tried her best, and in the end, she thought she’d succeeded. Until Seungwan had moved back to Canada after the inevitable split-up of the group, and Joohyun was left with emptiness and a heart that suddenly couldn’t do anything but feel.
 

She knows she can’t take back all those years wasted, but she’s willing to make up for it for the rest of her days, if Seungwan were to let her.
 

Finally, she hears Seungwan sigh. “I thought it was a one-night stand. No…I thought that you thought it was…”
 

Joohyun’s heart breaks for her, at the honest resignation in her admission. Tears rush to her eyes, but she blinks them back, almost like an act of contrition. She doesn’t deserve to cry; not until she can fix this. Fix them.
 

“It wasn’t. Never. Not with you,” she shakily replies.
 

Seungwan’s humorless laugh pierces through her like ice. “I don’t let myself be hopeful these days.”
 

“…Because of me?”
 

She’s met with silence on the other end of the line, and her breath gets trapped in her chest. She struggles to find what to say, how to tell her that it has always been her. No one else. In the end, all she can truly say is, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
 

Still, Seungwan remains silent, and Joohyun finally loses her will, her tears now freely flowing down her cheeks.
 

She thinks Seungwan’s hung up on her, until her choked sob gets cut off by the other woman, who asks, “Is the green tea latte in Starbucks still your favorite?”
 

It takes Joohyun a while to reply, but she murmurs a hesitant “Yes?”
 

“Okay.” Some shuffling is heard on the other end. “Wait for me. I’ll be right there.”
 

Joohyun can’t quite believe her ears, but her heart hears all the same, and her tears of relief won’t stop spilling.
 

“Joohyun-unnie?”
 

“Y-Yeah?”
 

“No more running, okay? And I mean that for the both of us.”
 

Her words make Joohyun smile so wide that it almost hurts, yet she will gladly welcome the pain. She wraps the blanket around her body, but she knows that the warmth that settles within her is from an entirely different cause. “Okay. No more running.”
 

“Uh. Maybe a little bit more running.” Seungwan pants, her harsh breaths audible through the phone, and Joohyun giggles, picturing what she could be doing—probably running people down the sidewalk. “I’ll see you soon, unnie.”
 

“See you soon, Seungwan-ah.” Joohyun wants to say more, but the phone clicks, the call ending. That’s okay. She’ll get to tell Seungwan everything she needs to, in person, soon.
 

Quickly, she gets off the bed and begins to haphazardly put on her clothes, deciding to wait for Seungwan on her porch, with a huge embrace at the ready.