When Sooyoung gets her soulmate’s name sketched into her neck like the sun chose to scorch heat down her skin, she juggles between balancing her coffee in one hand and clutching the flame as if it’d make the invisible fire hurt any less.

 

She manages to save her drink but she’s better off dropping it and tending to her neck  instead—  ouch.

 

It’s a good thing her roommate's not home; she'd rather not have her all fussy and worried— even if she looks cute with her signature curved up eyebrows and pouty lips.

 

She stumbles towards the sink, hissing when it sizzles to touch, smoke filtering between her fingers. Running water soothes a portion of the pain, but that’s all it does— a whole lot of nothing.

 

When it clears, droplets of liquid dripping off the loops and cursives of each letter, she stares at a name.

 

Kim Jungeun.

 

Doesn’t ring a bell.

 

Her fingers trace the edges of the ‘n’, attempts to scrape it off, see if the ink could peel away from her skin. But it’s like it was made to be there, embedded and frighteningly permanent that Sooyoung has half a mind to just break a wall — and maybe punch a hole through a mirror, while she’s at it.

 

She steps back, tries to wipe the name off again, skin going pink from each pressure her fingers make.

 

Oh well. Not a big deal. She’s got more pressing things to worry about – like fitting in at a new school and handling all the eyes that never seem to want to leave her. She’ll worry about soulmates, later.

 

Not like she'd let destiny dictate her life, anyway.

 

With concealer in hand and trained flicks of her wrist, Sooyoung watches every letter disappear, covering up the obvious mistake tattooed on her skin.

 

-

 

It's at dance practice that Sooyoung notices there's someone sharing the same name on her neck.

 

A brunette with blonde and red streaks in her hair, paired with a fiery temper and a mouth too sharp that it has Sooyoung wondering if she's an ninety-nine percent of the time.

 

All she's been doing so far as the new kid is being nice.

 

"I'm fine,"

 

Sooyoung shrugs. She's not going to argue with someone who can't keep the knives out of their tongue.

 

She pulls her cap a little lower so this Kim Jungeun can’t see she’s rolling her eyes, shoving a fist into her adidas pocket.

 

"Okay."

 

She doesn’t believe that she’s “The One.” Sure, she’s got a pretty face, easy on the eyes, and she doesn’t have two left feet on the dance floor, but Sooyoung’s not convinced; soulmates can’t be this easy to find.

 

But when Jungeun’s on the floor clutching her ankle five days later, there’s a twist in Sooyoung’s stomach and a throbbing pain on her neck, the name pulsing beneath a thick layer of concealer as if to tell her she's hurt.

 

She didn't even know soulmate marks could do that.

 

"Jungeun?!"

 

Jinsol's there wearing panic on her skin, fussing over Jungeun with those curved up brows and signature frown. She hasn't known her roommate that long, but she's easy to read like a diary left open— all heart and no lies, too soft, and way too nice.

 

Sooyoung contemplates moving forward, her steps pausing as if hesitation thrums through her legs.

 

It’s not like she wants to help Jungeun out, but the closer she gets, the less it hurts, and Sooyoung thinks it’s a clever— and evil, mechanism to force people into picking their soulmates out of sheer need just to ease the pain.

 

All the more reason not to.

 

She crouches so she can hold Jungeun, entranced by the soothing calm that washes over the scar on her neck as soon as they touch.

 

"Here, let me help."

 

The pulsing ache completely disappearing when Jungeun’s halfway into her arms is more than enough to confirm she’s the same person destiny decided to tattoo into her skin.

 

“N-No! It’s—" Sooyoung grows keenly aware of Jungeun's fingers curling into her shoulders, shivers crawling down her spine when Jungeun's breath grazes the side of her jaw. "It’s okay, really. I can walk, I’m fine.”

 

The throbbing comes back as soon as she’s shoved away. She shouldn’t be surprised anymore; Jungeun’s made it clear she’d rather be anywhere else but near her.

 

Good thing she’s quick on her feet, barely stumbling backwards before there’s balance again between her shoes and the floor, dusting off the creases on her shirt Jungeun marred with her hands.

 

Sooyoung pretends it doesn't hurt, the name burning hotter on her skin under all the concealer.

 

She refrains from clutching her neck, ignores how her legs itch to sprint to the nearest exit just so she could wash the pain away.

 

"Okay."

 

Out of all the possible people she could have, Sooyoung didn't think she'd get an for a soulmate. But at least this way, she won’t have to worry about catching feelings.

 

-

 

For every polite "hello" and shy "hi" and chipper "hey", Sooyoung wonders if one of them is even genuine.

 

She nods in return for every greeting she hears; she’s getting used to them now, faces gradually growing familiar yet there’s no name to tie them to.

 

Apparently she's great.

 

Great at dancing, great at singing, great at smiling - even great at kissing (how people even came to this conclusion, Sooyoung has no clue). She isn't complaining, though.

 

Strangers at every turn, all playing nice but no one's bothered to actually get to know her, more fascinated with the rumors attached to her name – it still being the new kid.

 

“You okay?”

 

Jinsol’s grip is warm around her wrist, guiding her towards their first class of the day. She’s the closest she’s got to a friend, even if it’s primarily because they were roommates.

 

“Yeah,” Sooyoung follows her in, flitting fingers through her hair so the strands could cover her neck; concealer’s more than enough, she’s sure, but it never hurts to be extra careful. “Just still getting the hang of everything.”

 

She would’ve loved to show Jinsol the secret on her skin, have someone to talk to about it - as well as what to do, but knowing that she’s probably close friends with Jungeun, she’s better off keeping it to herself. Wouldn’t want Jungeun to find out that her heart supposedly belongs to her.

 

Sooyoung snorts at the thought.

 

What a joke.

 

“Nice of you to try to help Jungeun, by the way.” Jinsol starts, pulling out her notebooks. “Even if she wasn’t all that...well, welcoming.”

 

“Is she always like that?” Sooyoung doesn’t care much, but it doesn’t hurt to make conversation when class hasn’t started yet.

 

Jinsol shrugs. “Not really,” she pauses, flipping through pages. “Maybe she’s just a little bothered.”

 

“Bothered?”

 

“By you,”

 

Sooyoung frowns. “Me?”

 

She sees furrowed brows again; wiggling, so characteristic of her. “Yeah, you never noticed?”

 

There wasn’t anything to pay much attention to, if she were honest. She was more inclined to ignore anything related to the name on her neck - especially the person herself.

 

She feels Jinsol staring, as if attempting to read whatever expression is on her face. But there shouldn’t be anything for her to find except confusion.

 

“You’re better at the one thing she’s good at.” Jinsol pauses, as if contemplating the words she’s chosen, grimacing as if regret is piling up as soon as it’s been said. “...Supposedly.”

 

Huh.

 

“Er, thanks? I guess.”

 

“It’s just something a lot of people have been saying, lately.” Sooyoung watches her tap fingers on her desk, as if the nerves can’t help but dance tremors along the surface. “Not to say it isn’t true, because I’ve seen you dance, of course. You’re amazing. It’s just…”

 

She taps Jinsol’s wrist. “I know,”

 

Her smile is grateful. Sooyoung can’t help but return it.

 

She gets it. Jungeun probably finds peace in the one thing she knows she’s good at - or at least, one she loves, and to have the stage where she shines brightest have the spotlight follow someone else - Sooyoung would feel the same.

 

Their teacher stumbles in, arms filled with papers that it has a few students chuckling for the bed-hair still strewn about on his head.

 

“Jungeun’s great,” Sooyoung says, recalls how seamless Jungeun makes each step. Not that she paid too much attention, of course. Just stating the obvious. “She’s a natural.”

 

Jinsol giggles, hushing when the teacher begins his lecture, but not without tapping her wrist in return.

 

“You should tell her. It’d make her day.”

 

-

 

Sooyoung doesn’t tell her.

 

Not when Jungeun's stupid name keeps bothering her.

 

"You itchy?" Jinsol's half-eaten sandwich stays forgotten on the table, her eyes more focused on staring her hand down. "You've been doing that a lot, lately."

 

She tugs the collar higher and continues scratching through it. Just in case the concealer wears off from all her rubbing, Jinsol won't be able to read it. Turtlenecks are gradually becoming her go-to outfit; which isn’t too bad (she knows she looks good in them), but the itch has certainly gotten worse, now.

 

"Yeah,” she sighs, reaches for her cup of coffee so her hands could be busy with something else. "Maybe I should wash all my things; it's probably a bug or something."

 

Jinsol shrugs, chewing and splattering breadcrumbs over the table.

 

"Kind of reminds me of when I got my soulmate,"

 

She barely catches the coffee in , swallows burning liquid down before it could spray all over the kitchen – and across Jinsol's face. Sooyoung pounds a fist to her chest, hacking out coughs to clear out the fire in .

 

Words stumble behind . "I— wait, what?"

 

"What?" Jinsol's mumbling through her munching, "My soulmate's name itched so much I almost wanted to cut my leg off."

 

"...Is that a normal thing?" Sooyoung's not up to date with anything destiny-related. She didn't think any of it was real – just like those horoscopes.

 

"I guess? I don't really know, either. Maybe because I didn’t want it, at first." Jinsol pauses, chugging her water, smearing off the crumbs from her lips. "Which is silly because now I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s amazing.”

 

Curiosity eats her up. “Who is it?”

 

Pink looks good on Jinsol, though not so much the jittery fingers, drumming away on the table, the nerves dropping into the wood – thunk, thunk, thunk.

 

“...Haseul.”

 

-

 

Sooyoung’s not much of a people-person.

 

She doesn’t know how Jo Haseul does it.

 

“Yes?” She watches the student council president rearrange a stack of papers between her hands, juggles them like she’s dealt with it far too often it’s become second-nature – none of the papers sway out of her grip when she walks. "It looks like something’s bothering you.”

 

Far too approachable and way too observant. Probably why she won the election.

 

Sooyoung combs her hair back, falling in step with her. “...Something like that,”

 

It’s itchy again.

 

“Well,” Haseul smiles when she offers to help carry half of the workload, bundles of white filling up Sooyoung’s arms so she won’t have to scratch at her neck again. “I’m all ears.”

 

They’re not friends. Acquaintances at best.

 

But even then that was pushing it – they’ve only spoken once before because she was the new kid and Haseul had to play her part as the student council president.

 

Awkward’s the one word that fits them better than the shoes on Sooyoung’s feet.

 

She glances as soon as Haseul curls her hair back, short strands of brown flickering across the letters of her roommate’s name – in that signature black ink.

 

Sooyoung gestures to the rim of Haseul’s ear. “Didn’t that bother you?”

 

“...Should it have?” Haseul looks almost lost, confusion palpable by the frown curling her lips, skin creasing between her brows.

 

Sooyoung shrugs.

 

She doesn’t know. It’s not like she’s ever had a soulmate before; it’s all too new and even if she’s gotten the hang of scratching the itch so it’d disappear for longer than five minutes, she isn’t sure if this is normal. She’d like to not scrape her skin off, at least.

 

Haseul's eyes are searching for something – Sooyoung doesn't know exactly what; was there something on her face?

 

“I love studying the subject,” Haseul’s tugging the papers back, freeing Sooyoung’s hands, stalling beside the student council room. “But I’m not that knowledgeable about soulmates. At least, mine had never been itchy enough to want to peel it off like Jinsol’s.”

 

Sooyoung deflates.

 

There’s a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Maybe it’s because I’ve already found mine and we’re, well, together. So keep your head up, okay? I’m sure whoever it is will come around.”

 

That’s the thing. She doesn’t want Jungeun to come around. It’s up to her, not some silly roll of the dice designed by the universe.

 

"Did you ever question it?"

 

Haseul tilts her head, strands of hair falling over the curve of her brow.

 

"Question what?"

 

"Why it's Jinsol and not someone else?" Sooyoung's hands find comfort in the pockets of her jeans.

 

She listens to the soft hum spilling between Haseul's lips, watching her readjust the papers in her arms, shifting her weight on her feet.

 

When a student passes by to enter the council room, Haseul's name tagged along with a reminder that a meeting's about to start, Haseul makes it halfway through the doors before twisting back - enough for Sooyoung to spot the crooked smile and happy eyes.

 

"Why would I question the fact that we're meant to be?"

 

The longer she looks at it, the more she thinks that Jinsol's name is oddly fitting against the shell of Haseul's ear.

 

“...Right.” Sooyoung mumbles, watches Haseul wave her away, disappearing behind a crowd of students garnering for her attention as soon as she enters the room.

 

-

 

Panic shoots up her chest too fast that it lodges Jungeun's name in .

 

She’s not thinking, surging forward, reaching out, limbs on autopilot to catch Jungeun before she hits the ground. The only thing on her mind is the repeated mantra of wanting her to be safe -- which is ridiculous because since when did she even care?

 

She'd just arrived at the bus stop, paid no attention to the girl destiny thinks is perfect for her, eyeing Jungeun picking at the edges of her crutches. Boredom painted her face better than the constant frown Jungeun tended to keep on.

 

Sooyoung wasn’t planning on interacting with her, keeping her distance behind her, but as soon as she spotted Jungeun missing a step on the bus, her Converse shoes slapped against concrete to reach her – she didn’t even get a chance to think.

 

Jungeun has her on a leash and she doesn't even know it.

 

“A-Are you okay?!”

 

Fate seems to be desperately trying to set them up -- Sooyoung ignores how her fingers twitch to hold Jungeun closer, as if the grip around her stomach isn’t already more than enough. She crouches to pick up the crutches that have clattered to the floor.

 

Jungeun grunts. “...I’m fine.”

 

Sooyoung knows she should find it rude that Jungeun pushes off her support like she carries some sort of plague, but she sees it as a good thing, taking in Jungeun’s disgust as a convenient opportunity.

 

All the more reason not to fall in love with her.

 

-

 

When the idea slaps Sooyoung in the face like a bucket of ice being thrown over her head, she thinks it’s preposterous how she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

 

Nothing’s better than proving to the universe -- and herself, that fate can be wrong.

 

That spending more time with Jungeun won’t make her head over heels for her; that the world’s spin on her destined lover is nothing but a mistake. At most, they could be friends.

 

“Not sick of walking me home yet?” Arched brow and a teasing smile -- she has to admit, it looks good on Jungeun. A lot of things do.

 

Sooyoung shrugs, fiddling with the edges of her phone in her pocket.

 

“Not yet.”

 

So far it’s been good.

 

Nothing like butterflies have fluttered about in her stomach, or the crushing endless thoughts of Jungeun whenever she isn’t around. Goodnight texts don’t make her heart leap with each new pop-up, and she hasn’t dreamt of them being more than they were, now.

 

But she does notice how the name doesn't itch as much whenever she's with her.

 

Sooyoung stiffens at warmth brushing her wrist; faint and fleeting, Jungeun’s fingers just as soft as the first time, but just like all the others, it lingers on her skin, haunting.

 

Jungeun never says anything so Sooyoung doesn’t, either.

 

“You’re so quiet,” there’s a tug on her sleeve; Jungeun’s warmth seeping through her sweater that Sooyoung could feel the heat. “You’re supposed to be an obnoxious blabbermouth who can’t stop complimenting herself. What’s wrong?”

 

Sometimes she gets the occasional heartbeat picking up rhythm, palms going clammy whenever Jungeun leans in too close, or touches her too often. Sometimes Sooyoung keeps shut because she’s afraid she’ll stutter instead whenever Jungeun smiles a certain way -- all teeth and crescent moons for eyes that it takes a bit of her breath away.

 

Just like what she’s doing now.

 

“You look better with crutches,”

 

Whatever tension has gripped her sleeve and stolen her heart, it crackles to nothing with Jungeun’s shove to her shoulder, laughter taking Sooyoung’s throat instead of the festering want to just say Jungeun’s name. Jungeun, Jungeun, Jungeun.

 

“You’re insufferable,”

 

“Isn’t it great?”

 

Jungeun elbows her side, but there’s that smile drawing along her eyes again that it’s hard for Sooyoung to pay attention to the words on her lips.

 

“More like horrible,”

 

For a moment Sooyoung considers the possibility that the universe was right. But only because Jungeun’s smiling eyes makes a convincing argument.

 

-

 

Every so often, maybe once in a blue moon— or two, or three, fear takes up Sooyoung’s heart in the image of jittery fingers and trembling knees.

 

She’s not the type to show it though, so it’s not like anyone else knows.

 

“Try to keep up,” Sooyoung settles for something familiar to calm her nerves -- witty banter with a bit of bite.

 

But damn is it hard when it’s Jungeun.

 

“You sure love to talk about yourself,” streaks of blonde and red fill between Jungeun’s fingers, long strands of brown cascading over her back -- Sooyoung can’t help but stare.

 

They're not friends, just – close acquaintances (it's gotten easier to lie to herself).

 

Duets are a breeze. Hell, she could probably do the routine with her eyes closed, have her body dance to the rhythm, let her limbs take lead to a song her feet knows too well.

 

But it’s with Jungeun.

 

She makes Sooyoung feel like she's doing everything for the first time.

 

“Okay, from the top. Ready?”

 

Sooyoung’s more worried about the name on her neck than having two left feet.

 

She tries not to hold Jungeun too close, makes sure her hair’s in the way so it’d cover the truth -- hide it from the one person who should never see it.

 

She’s gotten enough practice masking the letters with concealer, so technically it should be fine.

 

But it’s hard not to be worried about it when Jungeun’s in her arms for a choreography that shouldn’t be this intimate, Jungeun’s back pressing against her chest that she could feel Jungeun’s heart beat into her bones.

 

She's intoxicating.

 

Sooyoung’s head spins like a wheel overturned when Jungeun shifts -- forgets for a moment that no, she didn't look back for her but for the dance, Jungeun’s breaths mingling across a spot on her neck, exactly where her name had chosen to be.

 

She hopes the concealer doesn't melt with every panting breath Jungeun takes.

 

But with the way it seems like Jungeun's leaning closer, feeling her breathe against , Sooyoung hopes her legs don't cave first -- even when her head already does, moving to fill in the gap.

 

Sooyoung isn't sure she's thankful for having an audience when they interrupt with cheers and howls and flying shoes.

 

"You were amazing, Unnie!"

 

Jiwoo's a bundle of energy that it's both draining and encouraging, but it's not enough to distract her thoughts from scrambling through memory films for that split-second moment with Jungeun.

 

-

 

Sooyoung doesn't know many languages. Besides her own and basic English, she can't hold a conversation in anything else.

 

So she doesn’t know when she started understanding Jungeun's; how her eyes crinkle when she laughs, loud and unbridled and sometimes too much, to brows arching whenever she's curious, playful, or even confused.

 

Turns out she learns the fastest when it comes to anything Jungeun. Guess there’s some truth to destiny. She couldn’t get away from it at all.

 

There's a finger pressing against her forehead.

 

"Are you even listening to me?"

 

Sooyoung blinks, taking in the image of Jungeun being closer than she's used to, inclined to say yes, but it's hard to put it in words that she's too busy reading the laughter lines on Jungeun's eyes and the soft hue of pink on her cheeks to pay too much attention to anything else.

 

"...Nope," she says, manages to keep from spilling out a piece of her diary; Too busy just looking at you, certainly wouldn’t be a good way to start the day being friends and nothing more. 

 

Jungeun's finger shifts lower, poking her cheek, the pressure lingering that it makes Sooyoung break into a smile.

 

Jungeun has her doing that a lot, lately.

 

"Figures,"

 

It’s troubling how touchy they’ve gotten.

 

"You know me too well," she waves her off so she isn’t tempted to pull Jungeun closer instead, "It's probably not all that interesting anyway."

 

"Then how about you tell me something interesting," Jungeun's teeth peeks through, her smile bewitching -- and the reason she can’t breathe for a second, or two, or three. "I bet it's nothing compared to my drama with my neighbor's cat."

 

Sooyoung snorts.

 

There’s a constant storm in her head made up of pictures that aren’t real -- holding hands, silly kisses, wild night-outs, and a cuddle fest in bed sharing a blanket too small just to have an excuse to make up for it in hugs.

 

She has absolutely no idea.

 

"You’re right, I’ve got nothing as interesting as your neighbor’s cat." Sooyoung runs fingers through her hair, leaning back. "Where do I even begin?"

 

She doesn't know when she stopped looking for reasons to not love Jungeun, only to start seeing all the reasons why she should.

 

The thought tastes bitter in . And way too sweet. She hates the thought of losing to destiny.

 

"I never thought we'd be friends,"

 

Honesty's easier on the tongue when it has nothing to do with the terrifying truth tattooed on her skin. She just didn't expect it'd be something a little too close to the heart.

 

Jungeun reels back, brows furrowed, lips crooked into a mix of a smile and frown -- the utter confusion looks cute on her.

 

"Wait, what?"

 

"I know." Sooyoung puts on smug like a pair of jeans -- effortlessly. "Interesting, right?"

 

Jungeun gapes.

 

She chuckles. "Beats the drama with your neighbor's cat, huh."

 

Sooyoung doesn’t say anything else, bites back I never thought I'd want more than that, either because that’s not what Jungeun needs to hear.

 

She wonders if Jungeun would ever know how much she takes up the spaces in her lungs that there’s usually nothing left for her to actually breathe in.

 

“Come on,” Sooyoung ushers her up, guides by a hand on Jungeun’s back. There’s no way she’d tell her. “Can’t have you missing class when you’re already struggling enough as it is.”

 

 

-

 

She knows the signs. The faster heart rate, the sweaty palms, the stuttering lips, the constant need to see her happy - just the constant thought of her. She knows what that means.

 

Sooyoung sighs, scraping a hand down her face, as if it could help scratch off the smile that’s already drawing itself across her lips just from picturing Jungeun for the umpteenth time. Again.

 

To think she’s lost to destiny – even worse, she isn’t mad about it.

 

(She remembers Jungeun frowning, only to catch herself when the words spill out faster than her head could spin the gears backwards; Sooyoung’s grateful she couldn’t stop it.

 

“That’s only because I can’t keep my eyes off of you whenever you—“)

 

Sooyoung chuckles.

 

Yeah. She isn’t mad at all.

 

“Did you get a tattoo?”

 

If only she knew how angry she’d be that Jungeun was meant for someone else. Sooyoung wouldn’t have bothered letting hope build up in her chest, or even entertain all the ideas on how to tell Jungeun that it was her name on her skin.

 

Jungeun's trembling. “…I don’t want it.”

 

“Don’t want what?”

 

Sooyoung’s eyes widen at the name on Jungeun’s wrist, watches how she tries to rub it off like it’d do anything to remove something so permanent.

 

“…This.”

 

She wonders what Jinsol would say if she ever saw it.

 

Jo Haseul’s meant for more than just one person? Is she actually that perfect?

 

The thought tastes bitter on her tongue. Is that even supposed to happen? Does this mean that even if Jungeun’s meant for her, Jungeun’s supposed to be with someone else?

 

“…Me neither,”

 

Maybe it’s spite, maybe it’s the anger, maybe it’s how unfair destiny got her to fall in love exactly the way it wanted her to that has Sooyoung telling her there’s a name on her skin, too.

 

The shock on Jungeun’s face does little to quell the disappointment in Sooyoung’s chest. She almost considers showing her the letters – how it spells out her name but she’d rather keep that secret to herself.

 

No need to have Jungeun say out loud what destiny’s already telling her – that she’s not in love with her.

 

("Why would I question the fact that we're meant to be?")

 

Sooyoung wishes she’d known that just because someone’s name is on your skin, it doesn’t mean they’d have yours on theirs, too.

 

-

 

Jiwoo's the closest thing she'll ever get to being next to the sun.

 

She would have fallen in love with her if Jungeun wasn't already the one in her heart.

 

"U-Unnie!"

 

It never burns to be close to Jiwoo; too soft, too warm, too sweet— so unlike Jungeun.

 

"Yeah?"

 

She's seen her around. Most of the time with Jungeun, other times at choir practice whenever she walks by their room -- Haseul conducting with each flick of her wrists.

 

There hasn't been many reasons to talk to her, before. Their respective interests were different that there wouldn’t be much of a conversation to carry.

 

But Jiwoo suddenly sprung up out of nowhere and Sooyoung couldn’t help but be drawn to her – irresistible, jolly, and a bit overwhelming.

 

“Um,” Jiwoo’s hunched over on her knees. Sooyoung wonders why she’d bother running when she was going to wait for her anyway. “D-Do you mind if we — hah, hold on, let me just, you know. Breathe a little."

 

Sooyoung chuckles. “Sure.”

 

Jiwoo’s grin is beaming; not even dishevelled hair and a crooked posture could hide her away.

 

It’s nice being next to the sun.

 

“Want to hang out again this weekend?” Jiwoo stands upright, tucking strands behind her ear, raising a fist and pairing it with a smile too bright to be threatening. “I’ve gotten better at shooting, I swear.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been spending money just to practice,”

 

Sooyoung laughs when all Jiwoo does is cough like she just choked on a not-so-elusive truth.

 

Her schedule’s free for the most part. She won’t say that she’s kept certain days just to make time for Jungeun (the weekdays are pretty much all booked for her -- even if Jungeun doesn’t know it), but there’s a festering idea that the weekend would be even better if it means spending it with Jungeun.

 

But that would mean having Jungeun every single day and it’s terrifying how much Sooyoung still wants that.

 

“Sure,” she says, going so far as to brush away a strand loitering over Jiwoo’s brow, wondering if she’ll ever have as much courage to do the same to Jungeun. “But I bet you still can’t beat me.”

 

Jiwoo laughs. It’s cute how bright it is.

 

It takes gritted teeth and clenched fists hiding away in the crooks of her pockets just to squeeze out an “I’m busy,” when Jungeun asks for her time on the same days she’s already promised Jiwoo.

 

 

-

 

Just like their last weekend hangout, Sooyoung can't shake the feeling off that it's a date disguised as a get-to-know-each-other-better.

 

She still manages to win at the crane game though, plushy in hand.

 

Jiwoo takes it home because Sooyoung’s not as obsessed over soft, stuffed, and cuddly, penguin toys as she is.

 

It never escapes her how touchy Jiwoo’s been at every hangout they’ve had: all the hugs too long to be just friendly, the hand constantly gripping her arm everywhere they go, the fingers she’d interlace between hers as if Sooyoung wouldn’t notice.

 

Jungeun’s the one in her head whenever it happens.

 

She’s at Jiwoo’s doorstep when her question slithers into Sooyoung’s ears, heavy and loaded with a secret Sooyoung thought she’d been doing great at keeping all to herself.

 

“Is it Jungie?”

 

It takes a frown and wrinkled brows before Sooyoung recognizes the name.

 

“Jungeun?” She watches Jiwoo turn back to her, the penguin plushy not once looking out of place in her arms. “What about her?”

 

Jiwoo tilts her head, squishing her cheek against the toy; her eyes half-shielded by auburn.

 

"Your soulmate," she squeezes the plushy a little tighter, "is she yours?"

 

Sooyoung frowns to hide the surprise festering in her chest.

 

But it looks like that was all Jiwoo needed to know.

 

"It's funny," Jiwoo fiddles with the penguin's arm, a small smile on her lips -- so unlike her usual cheery grin. "...I thought I'd be yours because you're mine."

 

Sooyoung's eyes widen, but Jiwoo shoos her off, says "Thanks for walking me home," before she's turning around, reaching for the door.

 

She stumbles after her.

 

Jiwoo's name gets caught in -- wanting to call her back, reaching out, but all she manages is grazing Jiwoo's jacket before she's disappearing behind a wooden door, taking her voice along with her.

 

Silence keeps her company all the way home.

 

-

 

Soulmates ruin things.

 

Why it couldn’t be simpler, more straightforward like the traditional ones – seeing color whenever you’re close to them, or just having one name be specific for every person so there wouldn’t be someone left out, Sooyoung has no clue.

 

Guess the universe wanted something different.

 

“Jiwoo, can I talk to you?”

 

It’s gotten harder to reach her. Somehow, she’s always busy – at the music room, or out with other friends, or hiding away to study in the library. Any excuses not to see her, and Sooyoung gets it. She really does.

 

Sooyoung scratches at the bandage on her neck. She’d overdone it last night – still, she can’t help but keep trying, attempt to scrape away the name constantly throbbing in her head.

 

It should’ve been Jiwoo, instead.

 

“U-Unnie?” She’s ducked behind a pile of books that Sooyoung can’t help but chuckle; even if they’re there for her to hide and not to actually read. “What are you doing here?”

 

Sooyoung leans against the chair. “Looking for you,”

 

“…Why?”

 

“I just want to talk,”

 

Jiwoo fiddles with her fringe. “I, um, can’t think of anything to talk about.”

 

“I can think of plenty,” Sooyoung says, settling into the seat across from her. “But if you’re really not up for it, we don’t have to talk at all.”

 

She watches Jiwoo purse her lips, twiddling with the edges of a book she isn’t reading; not when her eyes are busy flitting back and forth between her and the open pages of text sprawled on the table.

 

Sooyoung sighs at a vibration in her pocket; it’s probably Jungeun’s tenth or fifteenth message – she’s not sure anymore – likely still asking where she is. She hasn’t stopped walking her home (she probably wouldn’t ever let that one go – if only so she could hold Jungeun’s hand and pretend it’s in the name of friendship) but with everything else – like having lunch together, or walking her to classes; she’s trying to keep to herself. Not that it ever works.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Jungie?”

 

Jiwoo’s question is innocent enough, but Sooyoung’s not deaf to hear the implications in her voice – and that tinge of green envy.

 

“...How did you know?” Sooyoung fiddles with her collar, tries not to pick at the bandage on her neck. She can't answer Jiwoo's question when it's an obvious yes - in more ways than one. "That it's her. What gave it away?"

 

She's been careful -- too conscious of the name on her neck and too paranoid that Jungeun would see it that she'd gotten used to hiding it away. Sooyoung doesn’t know where she slipped.

 

Jiwoo's smile looks like it wants to break out into a laugh, but her eyes are glossy like she'd rather cry instead. Her hands have gotten tighter around the book, as if just seconds and a teardrop away from ripping the pages out.

 

"...I didn't."

 

Sooyoung winces.

 

Of course. Out of all the clichés to fall for, she drops from the one completely preventable and recited right out of most unimaginative romance novels.

 

She didn't think a tattered heart would look so well on Jiwoo - as if regret's piled up behind her trembling mouth, gaze a glossy finish filled with guilt - and a devastating surrender. Sooyoung hates the look of heartbreak.

 

Had it been about anything else, Sooyoung would've told her not to give up.

 

But Jungeun's all she wants and there's no way she'd lie to Jiwoo and pretend that they had a chance.

 

“Can I see it?”

 

Sooyoung frowns; there’s a certainty to Jiwoo’s question, laced with a resolve and quiet strength that’s almost admirable - and a little masochistic.

 

“...Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” a pause, voice tapering to a whisper, as if to plead. “...Please.”

 

She doesn’t have the heart to say no, so Sooyoung listens.

 

Gripping at the edges of the bandage, she watches Jiwoo stand from her seat to settle beside her as she peels, gaze fixated as if enthralled to see the letters gradually appear behind a flimsy shield.

 

She knows it’s entirely visible when Jiwoo reaches out, gentle fingers tracing familiar slopes and curves that have taken Sooyoung's heart.

 

"It looks beautiful on you," a whisper, Jiwoo's breath mingling across her skin, makes shivers tremble along her bones. "Does she know?"

 

Sooyoung swallows to moisten ; Jiwoo's so entranced in spelling out the name on her skin over and over again that every touch has drying up - constantly reminding her; Jungeun, Jungeun, Jungeun.

 

It's a stiff "No," a little breathless and a bit too soft, but Jiwoo's touch has her stunned to a silence; she wonders if this is her torture - or if Jiwoo's intoxicated with their proximity, just like how she's been drunk one too many times being too close with Jungeun.

 

"...I'm jealous,"

 

Sooyoung pretends she doesn't feel nails attempt to scrape away the letters of Jungeun's name.

 

She's tried countless times in front of the mirror to know it doesn't work.

 

"I'm sorry," Sooyoung says, picking at the cuffs of her sleeves, unable to raise her head - can't hold her gaze when Jiwoo looks like that. Like the universe lied to her about happily ever after.

 

She pauses, finger ghosting over Sooyoung’s skin. "...For what?"

 

That I came into your life. "For everything." She chances a glance, spots Jiwoo's eyes filled to the brim, but nothing's spilled yet. "...I just wish I was better for you."

 

But Sooyoung isn't sorry that Jiwoo came into hers.

 

"Careful," Jiwoo's lips break into a shaky grin, blinking hard as if to swallow the tears that threaten to escape. "Keep that up and I might just fall in love with you more."

 

She stops, watching Jiwoo mend her heart on her own, hands letting her go so she could cover her face, wiping tears that have finally fallen. She wishes she could clear them away for her instead.

 

It's when her sniffles grow into muffled sobs behind a shaky hand that has Sooyoung reaching out to cradle her close, Jiwoo's tears painting across the space she knows has Jungeun's name.

 

-

 

Watching Jungeun cry punctured holes in Sooyoung's chest deeper than any knife could.

 

She wanted to kiss them away. So she did.

 

Wherever there were tears, she made sure to clear them away: her cheeks, eyelids - even the corners of her lips.

 

She remembers how Jungeun’s name pulsed, as if to tell her to make sure she was okay. Not that she needed the reminder.

 

“So her soulmate’s Haseul, too.”

 

She’s back at her apartment, watching Jinsol tap fingers against her chin.

 

Sooyoung’s not surprised that it’s already reached Jinsol; Haseul’s her girlfriend, after all. It wasn’t hard to miss how frozen Haseul had been in the hallway. She knew that was what Jungeun had cried about, but whether it was tears because her soulmate had found out, or something else, Sooyoung isn’t sure she wants to know.

 

“Yeah,”

 

Jinsol looks unnervingly calm - too neutral, too poised. It’s a little freaky.

 

And then she giggles. Sooyoung winces - she didn’t think it could get any freakier.

 

“You look funny,” Jinsol’s too amused, waving her hand, pointing a finger at her; it only has Sooyoung feeling wary. “I’m not worried, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“I didn’t ask,”

 

“You didn’t have to.”

 

Sooyoung traces the edges of her coffee cup. “You’re oddly...okay, with this.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She’s leaning back, twirling with the braids in her hair. “Soulmates don’t have to be romantic partners. They can mean anything. Best-friends. Family. Maybe even best-enemies. Almost like a guide; something like ‘hey, look - this person’s going to mean something to you. You just don’t know how, what, when, where, or why, yet.’”

 

Sooyoung blinks.

 

How she hadn’t considered that thought is beyond her. Jinsol looks ecstatic, though. As if proud for having knowledge that she’s unaware of, a smug smile curling across her lips.

 

“All you have to do is decide what the name means to you,” She flicks her hair back, standing up to take a call when her cellphone rings, Haseul’s name (along with three hearts and a bird emoji) blaring bright on her screen. “Let’s just hope Jungeun won’t choose her as a girlfriend, though.”

 

-

 

She wakes up feeling like she’s on fire.

 

It’s a struggle just to move the blankets, wrenching them off because it’s suffocating how hot her skin feels - and how much everything aches.

 

Sooyoung groans at pain constantly throbbing from her neck, her chest, her back, her arms, her legs - as if every expanse of her skin’s been subjected to volcanic heat.

 

Just pushing herself off the bed has her hissing, staggering into her desk from wobbly legs, her notebooks and pens clattering to the floor because she can’t bring her hands up high enough to avoid them.

 

She barely hears Jinsol’s rushing steps and worried lips until she’s reaching out to help her be steady on her feet, Jinsol’s touch searing a shock of pain through her back - it has Sooyoung jolting, gritting her teeth.

 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Jinsol’s trying, feeling her hand hover over her elbow, tentatively wrapping fingers around it. “Here, I’ve got you.”

 

Sooyoung winces at every step she takes just to get back into bed, the mattress not helping to cushion the fire burning across her back once she sinks in.

 

She can’t muster any complaints when Jinsol begins to inspect her.

 

“These look like bruises,” Sooyoung squeezes her eyes shut when Jinsol traces over a spot on her arm, “You didn’t get into a fight last night, did you?”

 

Sooyoung barely manages to scoff before she’s back to curling up in pain.

 

“You didn’t. Got it.” How Jinsol still manages to think she’s cracked up a joke, she doesn’t know, but Sooyoung swears once this blows over, she’ll get her something to actually laugh at. "I've never seen these before. It's almost like a bad rash of chickenpox - but with bruises."

 

Sooyoung huffs. "...I can't believe you've just described exactly how annoying it is." She grunts, shifting to have a better look at Jinsol. "I think I'd prefer it if everything itched instead."

 

Jinsol laughs, breaking away from the concern so etched on her face.

 

"I'll ask Haseul if she knows anything about this,"

 

“I’m more shocked you’re thinking that this is soulmate-related and not a sign that I’m dying from some sort of disease.”

 

Jinsol rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic,”

 

It doesn't take long before she feels the bed rise, Jinsol's steps echoing after her, her muffled "Seul, there's a problem," drowning to fade as soon as the door shuts.

 

Sooyoung barely manages to turn over to her side so her back isn't screaming in pain anymore when Jinsol's screech pierces into her ears.

 

"WHAT?!"

 

She wishes she had the energy to shut her up.

 

Sooyoung can't even flinch when Jinsol throws her door open, the knob slamming hard against the wall (god, it better not be broken) before she's lunging at her, her hands frantically lifting her shirt.

 

Sooyoung yelps at cold fingers prodding her skin. "What the hell?! What are you doing?!"

 

Isn't she in a relationship with Haseul?

 

"It's not like that you dummy." Jinsol's quick to shut her down, as if reading her mind, jittery fingers tracing over each bruise that even if it's fleeting, it's still fiery – and immensely painful. "Seul said it's like a warning sign—"

 

"So I was right? I'm actually dying?"

 

Jinsol slaps her stomach; Sooyoung winces, swallowing a scream. Ouch.

 

"I can't believe you're joking about this," she's sighing, her hands still frantic as if searching. "It's about your soulmate, idiot. Each bruise is a spot where your soulmate's been kissed."

 

Sooyoung jolts up, banging her forehead against Jinsol's. They're both recoiling from the impact, Jinsol managing to catch herself before she could tumble off the edge of her bed.

 

Sooyoung groans. She better not have a bruise on her forehead now, too.

 

"Ow! What the hell?!" Jinsol's rubbing her skin, lips curved into a pout. "It's not like you know who your soulmate is anyway, right? What's got your feathers all ruffled up?"

 

Oh. Right, she never told her.

 

Good thing she didn’t bother cleaning off the concealer last night.

 

"...Nothing,"

 

Jinsol's scrutiny has Sooyoung gazing elsewhere. "...Okay, well. Anyway, Haseul said it'll take time to heal, but they'll go away eventually.

 

She doesn't know how to feel about that.

 

Fingers curl around her wrist. "Sooyoung?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"Are you okay?"

 

There it is again. Jinsol's slanted eyebrows. They should be illegal with how cute they are - and how much they're compelling her to spill the truth.

 

But the less people know, the less likely it'll reach Jungeun.

 

"...I'm just thinking about how much fun my soulmate must've had," with a Colgate smile, she plays it like it's any other conversation; smooth and light and nothing important. "Considering how it's, you know, everywhere."

 

It's comical, except she isn't the one laughing.

 

Jinsol's giggles trail off, patting Sooyoung's knuckles. "There there. You'll have your fun eventually. Maybe you could even pay them back and do the same thing. When you're all better, of course."

 

Jiwoo comes to mind; bruised and battered and just a whole lot of too much - Sooyoung wouldn't do that to her.

 

"Yeah, yeah." She waves her off, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. "Shouldn't you be heading to dance class?"

 

"I should," Jinsol pauses, eyes shifting between the time and her. "But I don't want to leave you alone."

 

"How nice of you,"

 

"No, really. I don't want to leave you alone." She learns how expressive Jinsol is with her hands, movements wide and arching as if to exaggerate her point. "What if you trip and fall or something? You can't even hold yourself up on your own."

 

Sooyoung rolls her eyes. "I can handle it,"

 

Jinsol's yanking her phone out. "Haseul doesn't have anything early in the morning, so maybe she could—"

 

"It's okay, really." Sooyoung grips her hand, pauses fingers that hover over on speed-dial. She wonders if Haseul has Jinsol on 1, too. "I'm fine. It's not so bad anymore, see?"

 

She makes a show to stand, bites back a groan so Jinsol won't know she's pretending just so she could get her to leave. She wants to be alone.

 

It takes a painful walk (masked with a confident stride she’s too well-known for) to the living room before Jinsol's finally convinced, each step plagued with a grimace she swallows into a smile.

 

“Fine. But I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” Jinsol’s by the door, biting her lip, still reluctant. “Take it easy and don’t move so much.”

 

Sooyoung shoos her off with “Sure, whatever,” sinking slowly into the cushion of their couch because the bed’s too far and she’s not going to bother stumbling back when it’s less painful to sit up than it is to lie down.

 

When silence is all she hears, Sooyoung mulls over the spots on her skin - and what they really mean.

 

One, her skin is marred up because Jungeun's had some nightly fun, and two, her body kept track in the form of bruising hickeys just to tell her that.

 

Sooyoung ignores the inkling truth that Jungeun should therefore have them, too.

 

-

 

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

 

Sooyoung huffs, brushing her hair back because she had just finished making lunch. Despite the only reason she’s home is because she’s too bruised up to go anywhere, it’s nice to have the day to herself.

 

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

 

But damn, Jinsol’s clearly insistent in taking that away from her.

 

Sooyoung groans, both at the hassle of getting up from her chair when she had just placed her food down, and the jolt of pain threading through her legs because Jungeun clearly liked getting bitten there.

 

“I get that you like pressing the buzzer, but seriously,” she rests a hand against the door, pausing to catch her breath. A sigh breezes between her lips when it goes again – bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt. “Didn’t I already tell you to stop forgetting your keys?” Fingers grip the knob, twisting. “I swear, just because I’m the nicest roommate you’ll ever have, it doesn’t mean I’m going to keep letting you—”

 

She yanks the door open, expecting to see Jinsol and her sheepish pout and her cute-slanted-eyebrows, only to find her heart just shy away from pressing the buzzer, again; looking ethereal and a little too breathtaking. Her beauty is scathing.

 

Sooyoung’s voice tapers off, throat tightening up. “— Back in.”

 

Jungeun tucks a strand behind her ear, lips curving into a nervous smile – a savory red with more scarlet hues than the highlights in her hair. It’s terrifying how much she craves a taste.

 

“…Hey,”

 

Sooyoung wants to run away.