Sooyoung.

 

Lungs burn for rest, throat parched and nose sore because breathing’s gotten a lot more difficult when sprinting is priority and nothing else.

 

Sooyoung.

 

Her legs feel like they’ll fall off, trembling and exhausted more than any of the times she's spent late nights practicing for perfection on the dance floor.

 

Sooyoung.

 

“Wait!”

 

Jungeun stumbles to pause, shoes skidding against pavement. She twists to find Jiwoo buckled over, clutching her knees and huffing for breaths that are as labored as her own.

 

She was following her?

 

“D-Do you even know where she lives?”

 

“I—” she doesn't, now that she's paused to think. “...No.”

 

Jiwoo combs her hair back, ushering with a nod of her head, a huffed laugh leaving .

 

“Come on, it's this way.”

 

Jungeun's not used to seeing Jiwoo's back, falling in step a few paces behind. Not when they've always preferred to be next to each other instead.

 

“Oh, um, thanks.”

 

She knows where Sooyoung lives?

 

“We've hung out a few times.” Jiwoo shrugs, as if she heard the thoughts in her head. “Do you know why she didn't make it to class today?”

 

There's something in the way Jiwoo's shoulders tense – how her ears perk up, back rigid to a stand as soon as she answers her that bothers Jungeun.

 

“Jinsol unnie said she didn't feel well,” Jungeun says; she's only ever heard of these occurrences in stories and hearsay; she never thought they could be true. “That bruises just appeared out of nowhere…”

 

She knows why – for the most part. If her hunch was right.

 

There's a sharpness to Jiwoo's voice.

 

“Where were you last night?”

 

Jungeun halts, her jaw falling open, closing it just as Jiwoo spins to face her; there's a burning strength in her eyes that has Jungeun almost flinching.

 

Jiwoo wouldn't be asking unless—

 

“Last night?”

 

The memory is vivid – the ghost touches of fingers and lips scraping and scathing along her skin as if it could get any deeper to her heart. But illusions could only go so far.

 

Sooyoung stayed in her head even when morning came and all that was left was an empty spot in her bed.

 

“I was at home,”

 

Jiwoo's gripping the inside of her elbow; black edges of Sooyoung's name peeking between her fingers.

 

“Alone?”

 

“Does it even matter?”

 

She knows it matters. The fact that Jiwoo's interrogating her about it practically confirms her suspicion - and wish.

 

That she might actually be Sooyoung's—

 

“Of course it does!” Jiwoo steps forward, hands clenched into fists - quaking as if her emotions are bleeding into her fingers; her voice tapers to a whisper. “...You don't know how lucky you are.”

 

“Lucky?” Jungeun scoffs, indignant; she's far from it. “You're the one with her name.”

 

Funny how quick she was to associate luck with Sooyoung.

 

She still remembers how much it ached to see destiny's fire spell out letters for someone else.

 

“But you're the one she—!” Jiwoo stops, swallowing down whatever's left in , turning around so all she sees is her back. “Never mind. Forget it.”

 

She’s already walking off; Jungeun’s not used to jogging to catch up - falling behind wasn’t a concept they ever had to deal with.

 

Jiwoo feels a lot farther than she already is.

 

Jungeun grips her arm.

 

“Wait, you can’t just start something and then—”

 

“I wish she was never mine,” a soft laugh, resigned. “But it's always been that way, hasn't it?”

 

“Jiwoo—”

 

She nearly crashes into her, straightening up when Jiwoo spins to face her, a smile so small that Jungeun knows she would’ve missed it if she wasn’t watching.

 

Jiwoo doesn’t want Sooyoung? Since when?

 

“We’re here.” Jungeun looks up, staring at stone steps, Jiwoo shifting around her. “I should go. Room 9; you won’t miss it.”

 

“Jiwoo,”

 

Pearly whites and misty eyes halt her tongue - small drops of tears that stain down her cheeks has Jungeun's words fading off her lips.

 

Jiwoo leaves just like that; a whirlwind of sharp truths and double conversations that Jungeun knows is long overdue. They haven’t talked about anything deeper than extra pages of homework, lately.

 

That needs to change.

 

Jungeun keeps note to spend an entire day just for her; along with boxes of tissues and tubs of ice cream - and plenty of Disney movies to laugh and sleep to.

 

-

 

She can do this.

 

She can do this.

 

She can do this.

 

“...Hey,”

 

Jungeun doesn't miss how Sooyoung's jaw clenches, as if hearing her voice has her gritting teeth. She doesn't need to see fists and white knuckles to know it was true.

 

She can’t do this.

 

“...I never gave you my address.”

 

Jungeun shuffles her feet, fingers twiddling behind her back, afraid that all her trembling will give away the nerves that has swallowed her up.

 

“Well, yeah, you didn't.” Her gaze drapes over to Sooyoung's hand tightened around the knob, knuckles still pale. “I, um, Jiwoo told me.”

 

Sooyoung wears a mask better than she ever could. The wince paired with a swinging door is the only crack Sooyoung gives.

 

Jungeun shoots forward.

 

“Wait!” She's thankful her reflex hasn't dulled the slightest under Sooyoung's scrutiny. “I just - I came to check up on you. You weren't at practice.”

 

The door tries to inch to a close, feeling the pressure push against her hand. She ignores the fact that Sooyoung’s attempting to keep her out.

 

“Thanks, but I'm fine.”

 

Jungeun won’t let her.

 

“Are you sure? I mean, I can stay and—”

 

“I said I'm fine,” Jungeun didn't know words could be scathing enough to puncture her lungs, yank out air until there was none. “Just go. I know you have class.”

 

“But I want to—”

 

“...Just leave.”

 

It's scary how loud it was to be that quiet, that it's still ringing in Jungeun's ears like a gunshot to the heart when it was nothing more than a fleeting whisper.

 

Jungeun peeks at the sliver of alabaster peering beneath Sooyoung's drooping collar, wishing it'd fall a little lower just so she could see if it mirrors her own skin.

 

“Why can't I stay?”

 

Presumptuous of her to immediately assume she's the reason Sooyoung's like this; it could've easily been because of someone else – Jiwoo or Jinsol. Maybe even Haseul.

 

She needs to make sure.

 

“Since when were you this persistent?”

 

“Since you offered to walk me home and never stopped,” Jungeun steps forward, closer so she isn't as far from her as she feels. “I didn't need it, you know.”

 

Sooyoung frowns, eyes flickering like hurt was about to take its place, confusion palpable by the drop in her shoulders; Jungeun almost grins at how easy it is to see Sooyoung reeling back memory films in her head.

 

“Then why didn't you—”

 

“Say no and miss out on getting to know the girl everyone's supposedly - and dumbly, in love with?” Jungeun tries her luck, nudges Sooyoung's elbow in hopes to bring out a smile. “Not a chance.”

 

To her credit, she spots white peeking between Sooyoung's lips.

 

“Smooth,”

 

“Got it from you.”

 

Sooyoung hums, scratching at her neck; a smudge scraping against her fingers, tinges of black font peeling behind what Jungeun realizes is makeup.

 

Is that a—

 

“Except you,”

 

Jungeun blinks, gaze drifting from the edges of a 'K'.

 

“What?”

 

Guess Jinsol and Haseul really aren't the ones on her skin.

 

“Everyone except you.”

 

But there's still Jiwoo.

 

She watches Sooyoung turn away towards the kitchen, settling down in front of a plate looking fresh off the stove.

 

Jungeun takes it as a silent invitation to let herself in, shutting the door behind her and thinking about how everyone-except-you is no longer true.

 

She needs to know.

 

“Is it me?”

 

Sooyoung gives nothing away; no shaking fist, clenching jaw, or even a flinch.

 

Jungeun tries again.

 

“...Is it me?” A tentative step forward, “Is it my name on your—”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

She flinches at the venom swirling on Sooyoung's tongue; vehement and overwhelming - like there wasn't room for anything else. And to think she had said the same thing to Jiwoo.

 

Jungeun pretends she doesn't feel her knees tremble.

 

“...Do you hate that it's me?” Gritted teeth and a hurt heart are barely enough to get the words out. “Were you hoping for someone else?”

 

Silence crawls into her ears. Sooyoung's gaze stays bolted to her food; fingers loosely curled around her fork. It doesn't move.

 

Jungeun knows the quiet is just a polite way of saying ‘Yes’.

 

“Because I did.” Sooyoung looks up as if she’s finally seeing her; Jungeun hopes her legs don't give like how her lungs cave to get the words out. Not yet. “I never thought I’d want you until I got someone else. Haseul’s great, it’s just...”

 

She’s not you.

 

A chair screeches against wood.

 

It takes a swallow and a hard stare at the beige calendar on the refrigerator to not flinch with every one of Sooyoung's footfalls.

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

Jungeun recoils, gaze falling back to find a flame swirling in brown eyes.

 

“What?”

 

“Last night.” Sooyoung's stepping closer, enough that all it'd take is a foot forward and Jungeun could fall right into her. “Was it the kisses or the bites that made you stay?”

 

Lips impossibly soft and teeth digging into her skin had her undone more times than there were numbers on a clock, but it wasn't because she was craving to be touched.

 

She could easily do that herself.

 

“It was you.”

 

Sooyoung frowns, brows arched and lips pulled down in a way that a stranger could never imitate; how theirs was a little too low, a tad too stiff, a bit too small.

 

But it was enough.

 

“She was the closest I got to pretending I had you.”

 

It’s cute; how Sooyoung’s mouth fumbles between opening and closing. Jungeun considers helping her out, lift her chin up so she wouldn’t have to look like some fish that got flung out of water.

 

But her heart’s been too open that it’s paralyzing to know she has said her secret aloud; she’s afraid to move in silence drenched with her feelings and Sooyoung’s rigid posture has Jungeun equally frozen.

 

She wants to take it all back.

 

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

 

There’s something in the way Sooyoung reaches for her hand that has Jungeun holding in her breath; it’s nothing special - they’ve done this too often to keep count, how familiar it feels to have her warmth cradle her wrist, her thumb drawing circles on her skin.

 

But it’s different when Sooyoung’s unclasping the watch that hides Haseul’s name so her lips could replace it instead.

 

“...Sooyoung?”

 

Her heart burns to beat faster; scorching with every kissed syllable Sooyoung mutters into her skin.

 

“I didn't want you, either.” Shivers tremor along Jungeun's arm, entranced by the way Sooyoung's breath ghosts each letter. “But I hated it more that you didn’t have me.”

 

Giggles bubble in , happiness surging beneath her chest, coiling up her lungs that it’s somehow easier to breathe; even when her pulse skips every time Sooyoung presses another kiss, as if to erase the name meant to be permanent on her wrist.

 

Jungeun finds courage in the smile Sooyoung paints against her skin.

 

“No wonder you bought me a watch,”

 

Sooyoung scoffs, leaning back so Jungeun can catch her rolling her eyes.

 

“Obviously.”

 

She hasn’t let her go, fingers gentle and warm.

 

“...Can I see it?”

 

Jungeun braves a hand against Sooyoung’s cheek, at first fleeting, pressing closer when Sooyoung doesn’t flinch at her touch.

 

Sooyoung’s ears take on a hint of pink.

 

“Do you have to?”

 

Chuckles tickle . “Are you embarrassed?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sooyoung turns her head, the curves of a ‘K’ peeking along her neck. “...It’s you.”

 

Jungeun’s fingers glide down her jaw, over the slopes and edges that make up perfection, to the start of a name that had been so elusive.

 

Her heart aches at the thought of Sooyoung being so adamant to hide her away.

 

“It must’ve hurt,” Jungeun rubs at the foundation layered across it, tracing the lines of faded pink undoubtedly scarred by nails that were desperate to remove it. “You really didn’t want me, huh.”

 

“Yeah,” Sooyoung’s mute apologies are easy to hear, how she grips her wrist, pressing warmth against her skin. “Yeah, I didn’t.”

 

Jungeun chuckles.

 

“That’s too bad.” It’s surreal to see her name— Kim Jungeun, ink as dark as the first day she saw Haseul’s on her wrist, crisp and clean as if Sooyoung’s nails hadn’t tried to scratch it off at all. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

 

Sooyoung laughs.

 

“I guess so.”

 

Jungeun wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

“Why didn't you tell me?” She traces her name again and again, hypnotized by the ink so embedded on her heart's skin. “Why didn't you tell me it was me?”

 

Scrunched nose and furrowed brows greet her question; along with a frown embedded with hesitation, eyes darting to something else across the room.

 

“How could I? You didn’t even want to look at Haseul’s name; you looked like you’d run away from your own hand if you could.” Sooyoung pauses, sighing. “If I said it was you, you would've probably—”

 

Jungeun leans in, shuts her up because she’s heard more than enough, muttering against lips she's been dreaming to taste, hoping her words melt into Sooyoung's mouth like a flavor she'll never forget so Sooyoung knows this isn't meant to be a mistake.

 

“...I would've probably kissed you sooner,” Jungeun grins against her, “idiot.”

 

She pulls back just enough to watch Sooyoung blink, shock written on her face it's almost hard not to laugh at it.

 

Jungeun chuckles at Sooyoung's shaky breath, as if she’d stolen all the air in her lungs.

 

“Not soon enough, clearly.”

 

Giggles mix in for another taste.

 

“Idiot,” she mutters between chaste kisses, smiling when all she hears is Sooyoung’s whines of confusion. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

 

“I hope—” Sooyoung manages to squeeze in between pecks, “—that you can come up with a hotter nickname for me—” Jungeun laughs, tickled by Sooyoung’s words vibrating against her lips. “—than ‘idiot’. Or else we need to talk.”

 

Typical.

 

“...Idiot,” she says, a little breathless, a little lightheaded, and a little too pleased with herself; Sooyoung looks flawless when she's pink and a tad too flustered. “Why am I not surprised?”

 

Sooyoung's grin feels gentle and inviting.

 

“...Keep this up and we'll probably lose count.”

 

Jungeun leans up, stealing another.

 

“Yeah,” and another, “Probably.”

 

Sooyoung’s laughter is divine, paired with gentle arms curling comfort around her, tugging Jungeun closer. They haven’t been this intimate before – more satisfied with fleeting moments of holding hands and hugs that go a minute longer. She wonders how she’s managed to survive without this.

 

When Sooyoung winces, worry swarms Jungeun's hands, frantic to search for the cause.

 

“...From now on, please don't go getting kisses from someone else.” Sooyoung says, more soft than sharp, chuckles easing from . “Or at least, if you do, don't get kissed on the back; lying down’s a bit of a pain.”

 

She can't bring herself to laugh with her.

 

Jungeun's promising apologies in kisses and whispered “sorry's”, reaching up to hold her better, hoping it gets across that she won't be looking for anyone else.

 

Her thumb massages the space just beneath Sooyoung's ear, fingers scratching gently at the little hairs on the back of her neck.

 

Sooyoung's soft sigh has Jungeun rising on her toes.

 

“Will you promise me something?” Jungeun asks, squeezes between a breathless kiss and a trembling grip to hold Sooyoung tighter.

 

“For you? Maybe, maybe not.” Sooyoung's playful grin has Jungeun pinching her arm. “Ow! Really?” She laughs, rolling her eyes at Sooyoung’s pout. “Fine. Sure. What is it?”

 

Jungeun shifts, kissing the expanse of skin that houses her name.

 

“Don't hide me away, anymore.”

 

She hopes Sooyoung won't ever have to think of her as a mistake again.

 

-

 

“So it was Jungeun?” Jinsol’s pout should be banned; it’s not supposed to be making her feel like an of a roommate. “Why didn't you tell me?”

 

It’s frightening how well Jinsol manages to make guilt spout from the pit of her stomach, churn her insides and eat away at her chest, heart aching for a truth she should’ve said instead of tucking it away for herself.

 

“I just— I didn't want anyone to know,” Sooyoung slumps back in her seat, raking fingers through her hair. “Never been a fan of soulmates, anyway.”

 

“How about now?”

 

Haseul comes to mind; perfect enough that destiny figured she was fit for two people. Sooyoung still doesn’t know how to feel about that. Maybe she’s jealous - it’s hard not to be when Haseul’s the one written on Jungeun’s skin; a spot forever reserved for her alone.

 

Guess she’ll just have to make up her own space on Jungeun everywhere else.

 

“Still a no.”

 

Jinsol hums, tracing the rim of her coffee mug.

 

“I get it,” she sighs, more dreamy than exhausted. “Haseul was pretty convincing when I told her I wanted nothing to do with her.”

 

“What did she do?”

 

Sooyoung watches her shift forward, elbow on the desk, cheek in her palm; a lopsided smile greets her way.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“How was that convincing?”

 

“Because she didn’t have to do anything,” blonde tresses cascade over her shoulder, falling like liquid gold when she curls a few behind her ear. “And I still wanted her. Destiny, or not.”

 

Sooyoung understands. They’re almost eerily similar; how they’ve ended up being drawn in towards the same thing they’ve been trying to run away from in the first place.

 

“I hope Haseul knows how lucky she is to have you,” she bumps her elbow, wonders if Jinsol’s smiling eyes have a way of making people soft. “You’re pretty cool.”

 

Jinsol nudges her back, giggling.

 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Roomie.”

 

-

 

“Really? Tangled, again?”

 

“Of course!” Jiwoo munches between handfuls of popcorn, patting the makeshift seat of blankets and pillows beside her. “I mean, come on, Jungie. A frying pan. You can’t tell me that’s not brilliant.”

 

Jungeun laughs, slipping her arms out of her jacket.

 

“That’s it?”

 

“And the songs!” A pause, the sound of crunching echoing into her ears. “Plus the glowing hair.”

 

She chuckles, plopping down next to her and taking a handful of fluffy-salty white.

 

“Whatever you say, Jiwoo.”

 

It took a week before Jungeun managed to schedule a night for just the two of them; something she sorely missed and never noticed they were having too little of, until Jiwoo spoke of secrets Jungeun didn’t think she had.

 

(“I wish she was never mine, but it’s always been that way, hasn’t it?”)

 

She’s just not sure how to go about it.

 

Should she be upfront? Get straight to the point and hope that Jiwoo would be open enough to let her listen? Or be subtle? Tip-toe around the problem and somehow coax her into spilling it all out in the middle of a movie and a bowl of salty junk food?

 

“...I knew,” Jiwoo fiddles with the popcorn in her hand, halts every thought running through her mind. “I knew she had you.”

 

Out of all the scenarios Jungeun conjured up in her head on the way here, Jiwoo spilling a brutal truth without prompt wasn't part of her list of possibilities.

 

The air shifts, more awkward than cozy, and it doesn't help that Rapunzel's singing about being free.

 

“How…?”

 

“A feeling,” she pauses, “and then she told me.”

 

“She told you?”

 

“By accident,” Jiwoo scratches her head, a weak smile painting her lips. “But yeah, we talked.”

 

Jungeun wonders how much more she doesn't know.

 

opens but nothing comes out; there's too many words jumbled in her head, chaotic and out of order that there wouldn't be anything sensible on her tongue.

 

Jiwoo picks at the corner of her couch.

 

“...I didn’t want it to be true; that it was you.” Jungeun makes sure to keep quiet; Jiwoo's never been the type to talk about herself; no matter how much she could talk, it was always about something else. She won’t ruin it. “It helped that she didn’t want it, either. She said it so often, you know? How much she hated it.”

 

Jungeun tries not to wince; it's a truth she already knows, yet it doesn't get any easier to hear.

 

To think she was the one Sooyoung tried so desperately to get rid of; how often she pretended that it didn't exist - it's still hard to swallow.

 

“It felt like I had a chance - that she could look my way.” Jiwoo sighs, slumping back. “Just once. I wanted her to look at me.”

 

Jungeun knows she should say something; but she feels it'd be out of place - and rude to interrupt.

 

Jiwoo chuckles, tilting her head at her, auburn falling over her shoulder.

 

“But all she saw was you,” she didn't think a smile could look so heartbreaking. “And I hated it.”

 

Jungeun expected something else; more disastrous and cold. Maybe have the bowl of popcorn flung over the edges of Jiwoo's fingers, decorate the floor in specks of white and shaking fury.

 

She expected to help clean up afterwards, sweep away tears and bits of salty white, mend a broken heart with a hug and a new bag of popcorn.

 

But Jiwoo found courage at the bottom of her bowl instead.

 

“Jiwoo…”

 

She looks good in it.

 

“But I'd hate it more if it had been anyone else,” she shrugs, leaning her head back against the sofa, toothy-white smile painting her lips. “No one fits better than you.”

 

Jungeun yanks her in for a hug that carries more words than she could ever say, crumples Jiwoo's sweater in fists that tremor for all the things she's missed out on - and for all the times she wasn't there for her.

 

Choked apologies dance along her tongue; none of them come out coherent, stumbling over Jiwoo's name and “sorry” all at once.

 

“Hey, don't go apologizing now.” Jiwoo laughs, patting her back. “You shouldn't be sorry that she chose you.”

 

“But I—”

 

“No 'buts', okay?” A pause, “Then again, I guess you've got that part down too, huh.”

 

Jungeun pinches her, smiling even when she knows Jiwoo's poking fun at her; her laughter airy and light.

 

She holds her tighter.

 

“I love you,”

 

Jiwoo's giggles tickle her ear.

 

“Love you too, Jungie.”

 

-

 

She wonders if she’s the only one that feels electricity surge across the air whenever they touch, hold a stare for a little too long, clasp hands together just a tad bit tighter – the feeling nestles in Jungeun’s chest, warm and cozy and loud.

 

Sooyoung’s smiling eyes pulls her in every time, wrapping her in hugs that are almost as intimate as the kisses that go deeper, prolonging evening dates that should’ve already ended at the doorstep so they wouldn’t have to say “goodnight” for another minute or two – or three, or five.

 

Sometimes the invitation for more tumbles across Jungeun’s tongue, bouncing behind her teeth, trembling to come out; breathy whispers of “see you tomorrow” and “just a little longer” don’t satiate the heat rising in her stomach, boiling in her chest – it’s getting to be too much, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before her knees give out, skin begging to be touched.

 

Like now.

 

“I should go,” Sooyoung’s pulling away, but not without chasing her lips for another quick kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

But Jungeun doesn’t want it to be just tomorrow – like all the other tomorrows they’ve already had; not when she could keep her for tonight, have their time together bleed into another day, share mornings in bed with someone who means too much for her to ever let go.

 

“Could you stay?”

 

She feels Sooyoung’s fingers scratch at the back of her neck, how it makes Jungeun sigh into her arms, clutching her jacket tighter.

 

Her thumb draws warmth across Jungeun’s cheek.

 

“Only if you want me to,”

 

“I do,”

 

Sooyoung’s smile feels hot against her lips.

 

She takes it as a yes, yanking Sooyoung’s collar to tug her through the door, letting go to juggle for the keys. Jungeun hisses when it’s taking seconds too long just to find the right one when she could just be using all that time to be kissing Sooyoung instead.

 

Her laughter’s delightful to hear for the most part – but it’s also just as annoying when Jungeun knows Sooyoung’s enjoying her struggle a little too much, her chuckles breezing against her ear; it doesn’t help that Sooyoung’s pressed up against her back, seemingly satisfied with just holding her and watching her stumble over something as simple as opening her own door.

 

She blows a few strands out of her face.

 

“You could at least help me, you know.”

 

Sooyoung’s giggles bleed warmth into her neck.

 

“I think I’m good.”

 

“On second thought, you should just go home.”

 

Jungeun swears she could feel Sooyoung roll her eyes behind her, her fingers hovering over her own, steadying her hand. The key finally slips in through the slot.

 

“So, still want me to go?”

 

Jungeun hates how well smug looks on Sooyoung; almost as insatiable as the turtleneck she’s got on.

 

She doesn’t entertain her with a response, more keen on exploring her home with Sooyoung and getting to know her past the layers of clothing that cover her up.

 

“Not even going to bother touring me around?”

 

Sooyoung says between scathing kisses and bumping into furniture in the dark; it’s a little funny how they coordinate through the living room – feeling out for both a surface to guide them through and the spaces on each other they haven’t gotten to touch.

 

They nearly knock over her vase – a present from her parents – if not for Sooyoung’s quick hands; though Jungeun’s not sure her father would like it very much if he knew it was only because her fingers were already finished undoing the belt on her jeans.

 

Sooyoung throws it somewhere behind her, along with the jacket she’s skillfully maneuvered out of Jungeun’s arms (the lack of resistance has Jungeun a little flustered), hearing them thud against carpet. Jungeun has mixed feelings about that; she wonders just how much of her things are going to be strewn about on the floor – and whether she should wake up earlier to clean it all up, place them in the laundry basket and—

 

“Ow!”

 

Jungeun giggles when she hears Sooyoung hiss, helps her rub her head that had bumped into a particularly low kitchen light.

 

Oops. She’s never had to worry about that.

 

“I think you’ve seen more than enough of the place. Don’t you?”

 

“…Yeah.”

 

Her room’s neat and tidy – though with the way they fall into her bed, crumpling the sheets with tangled limbs and eager hands, Jungeun knows it’s going to be a mess in the morning.

 

She’s counting on it.

 

“Let me know if anything hurts, okay?”

 

Jungeun doubts anything will, but she nods, hums her “okay,” so there won’t be concern etched into pretty brown eyes – she doesn’t want worry to be anywhere near them tonight.

 

It’s nothing like she’s dreamed about – not even close to the show a stranger had put on for her. Sooyoung’s infinitely better – and that shouldn’t be possible.

 

Her touches and kisses are softer, warmer, steadier, but also blazing; as if leaving marks of fire along her skin, burning into her bones, seeping into her chest – her heart drums louder in her ears. It’s almost as deafening as the zipper that slides down her jeans.

 

Shivers tingle along the spots Sooyoung traces, how she follows the waistband of Jungeun’s underwear, as if memorizing the lines on a map. It’s too much to take in at once; teeth nibbling at her ear while fingers explore the expanse of her stomach.

 

The paths feel familiar, though it’s only when Sooyoung settles on curves and edges, leaving lingering kisses on the spaces a stranger had left her once before, that Jungeun realizes what she’s doing.

 

It doesn’t help that heat begins to pool between her legs, arousal simmering beneath her skin.

 

She cradles Sooyoung’s face to pull her down for a longer taste, breathes in apple and cinnamon rolls they shared over their nineteenth date. The memory is vivid; clinking of plates and chatter whirl into her head, soft jazz and topaz lighting matching Sooyoung’s smooth voice and alabaster skin.

 

“You’re amazing; I hope you know that.”

 

When Sooyoung’s hand dips lower, settling between her thighs and into soft heat, Jungeun’s breath hitches, clutching tighter. She briefly wonders if her nails dig deep enough to bruise pleasure into Sooyoung’s skin, leave marks for every slow dance her hips make against Sooyoung’s fingers.

 

When she comes, arching up and clawing bliss down her back, she hopes Sooyoung knows she’s just as amazing, too.

 

-

 

Sooyoung’s not used to running into her – alone.

 

Rarely does it happen; they share the same group of friends, so it wasn’t like they needed to spend any other moment in between for just two.

 

At least, not anymore.

 

“I heard you had fun last night.”

 

It's Jiwoo.

 

Sooyoung springs up, almost topples over her coffee before catching her cup mid-fall; her papers wouldn't have appreciated it if she hadn't.

 

Exams are coming up and she hasn't spent much time anywhere else besides the library (with occasional spontaneous dates with Jungeun), so it's not like she expected company other than her piles of textbooks and notes.

 

Jiwoo looks sheepish.

 

“Sorry,”

 

“It's okay,” she organizes the papers scattered across the table, ushering Jiwoo with a nod of her head for the spot next to her. “And what do you mean by 'fun last night'?”

 

“Really?” Jiwoo's brows scrunch up, settling beside her. “Was it that terrible that you forgot it even happened?”

 

Sooyoung mumbles behind her cup.

 

“Forgot what?”

 

“The .”

 

Sooyoung barely manages to down her coffee before she's coughing it out, stumbling to catch her drink again, bits of dark liquid spilling over her fingers. She yelps at the heat, muttering curses, placing it down fast so she could grab napkins instead.

 

Jiwoo giggles a string of apologies, her “Sorry!” popping in between choked bouts of laughter and helping her wipe off her drink from her skin.

 

“Did she tell you?”

 

“What, that you two had ? Nope.” Jiwoo chuckles, tapering to a softer sigh, her hand pausing at the corner of Sooyoung's lips. “We're best friends. She didn't have to.”

 

Oh. Right.

 

“Well…” Sooyoung clears , “...yeah, we did.”

 

“I'm happy for you,” a pause, “and of course, for Jungie, too.”

 

Silence coats them after, Jiwoo's hands withdrawing from her face to rub off whatever's left on her fingers.

 

It's only when Sooyoung thinks of all the kisses she's shared with Jungeun last night that she jolts back, startled at the realization of what it'd cost for her to be with someone else when she's written to be Jiwoo's instead.

 

Jiwoo jumps. “U-Unnie?”

 

Images of Jiwoo waking up with bruising evidence of her time with Jungeun has Sooyoung frantic for apologies.

 

“I'm…” Sooyoung springs forward, gaze scouring for marks on clear skin. “...sorry?”

 

But there's nothing.

 

Jiwoo giggles.

 

“...I'm okay, Unnie.” She shuffles, teetering her balance between her feet. “Those don't show up unless your soulmate was thinking about you while they…” Her voice tapers to a whisper. “...well, you know.”

 

So that was how it works.

 

Sooyoung almost recoils. She doesn't know how to feel about not seeing Jiwoo without any bruising reminder of last night.

 

She didn't spare a second thinking of anyone else but Jungeun — and it shows.

 

Apologies tremble across her tongue again, eager to slip out.

 

Jiwoo smiles, taking her hand, rubbing circles along her wrist.

 

“At least I didn’t have to wake up feeling sore, right?” Her thumb pauses, pearly whites beaming and bright. “But really. I'm glad that you only thought about her, because she doesn’t really stop thinking about you, either.” She halts, throwing a playful wink. “But I'm sure you knew that already.”

 

Sooyoung reddens. She remembers too vividly the marks on her skin when Jungeun had been with someone else.

 

“Are you feeling better?”

 

Her gaze is fixated on her neck; Sooyoung can't tell if she's staring at the fading reflection of a bruise Jungeun got from someone who wasn’t her, the hickey Jungeun had promised her last night, or the name tattooed by the universe.

 

“Yeah,” she coughs into a hand, ears going warm from the concern etched across Jiwoo's eyes. “Thanks. And you? What have you been up to?”

 

They curl into crescent moons, a smile breaking open at the corners of .

 

“I've gotten a lot better at the shooting game,” she sways on the balls of her feet, a Cheshire grin lighting up her face. “I bet you won't beat me this time.”

 

It's not an invitation for something more; Jiwoo's not looking at her with expectations to be anything else than friends.

 

Sooyoung arches a brow.

 

“...Saturday?”

 

Jiwoo giggles. “You're on.”

 

She watches Jiwoo turn away, pass her a small wave before Sooyoung reaches out, catching her wrist. It’s still on her mind, even when she knows what Jiwoo will say.

 

“Unnie?”

 

“Jiwoo,” Sooyoung lets go, fiddles with the insides of her pockets, gaze lowering to a spot on the floor. “I’m sorry, again. For everything.”

 

Jiwoo tilts her head, watches how her hands twiddle with the edges of her sleeves.

 

She’s sorry for a lot of things; there’s too many that she doesn’t know where to begin and where it should end.

 

But she wants to start.

 

“Unnie, it’s fine. Come on.” There’s a tug on her sleeve, but it only picks at her heart; head heavy with more apologies piling up in . “...Why won’t you look at me?”

 

She flinches, the words seeming to carry more than just wanting her gaze; it doesn't escape her how desperate it sounds.

 

“I just,” Sooyoung shrugs, shifting to stare at a crack in cement. “I wanted you to know.”

 

Warmth cradles her cheek.

 

“Look at me,” auburn strands and a waning smile enters her vision, “Please, just this once. Look at me.”

 

Sooyoung raises her head; wonders if she’s reading too much into the words that sound like they came from somewhere farther than the lines she’s refused to cross.

 

“I know, okay?” Jiwoo’s thumb rubs circles on her skin, searching Sooyoung’s eyes like she’s trying to find something that might be there. Sooyoung’s not sure if she sees anything when Jiwoo chuckles, poking her forehead; she didn’t think a laugh could sound so sad. “...I know.”

 

-

 

“Just out of curiosity, did you ever wake up with bruises like Sooyoung?”

 

Jungeun doesn't expect a heavy loaded question while Haseul's passing over a stack of papers for her to carry.

 

She was on the way to dance practice, but watching Haseul juggle a bundle of white that were frighteningly taller than her had her second-guess Haseul’s ability to walk down the hallway without tripping over herself.

 

“No, actually.” She grunts, readjusting her hold. “Why?”

 

Haseul nods along to whatever's in her head; watching her mumble to herself like there was an equation to solve and she's at the brink of finding a solution.

 

“You thought about Sooyoung the whole time, huh.” Then, as if it came to her on a whim, pulling the door open to the student council room. “No wonder she struggled just to get up.”

 

Jungeun doesn't need to ask for clarification when it's as clear as the glimmer in mischievous eyes just what Haseul is implying.

 

She shoves her once the papers are safe on the table, ignores how hot her ears feel and hopes they aren't easy to see with her hair down; though her cheeks have probably given her away - no doubt pink and way too warm.

 

Haseul staggers, flailing arms attempting to help her balance.

 

“Wha— I didn't say anything!”

 

She sounds indignant, but the giggles spilling between her lips betray her.

 

Jungeun considers flinging her out the nearest window.

 

“But really,” Haseul's laughter trickles to a quiet smile, “I'm happy for you.”

 

She shrugs, spins around so that she could get back to where she was supposed to be going; attempts to cool off the flame still coloring her cheeks.

 

“...Thanks.”

 

“Though now that I know how it works, it's going to be a little hard to not think about you while I'm making out with Jinsol...” Haseul's fingers tap away at her chin, gaze off into the distance. “...So don't be surprised if you wake up with some bruises and—”

 

Oh good. What perfect timing.

 

A window.

 

“—W-Wait, Jungeun, I was just kidding!”

 

-

 

“You okay?”

 

Jungeun smiles at the question she’d heard so often, before. How much things have changed since then; she never would’ve guessed.  

 

She traces the name on her wrist. It doesn’t hurt to look at it anymore.

 

“Yeah,” Jungeun says, feels Sooyoung settle beside her, fingers slotting between hers as seamlessly as the moment they teetered between friendship and something more. She’s glad they’ve finally landed over one side more than the other. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

 

Jungeun turns to her, flutters nails over her name on Sooyoung’s skin, out in the open for everyone else to see – to know that she’s hers and no one else’s. Pride and happiness swell her heart. Guess the universe wasn’t so wrong after all.

 

Sooyoung leans in, her grin tickling Jungeun’s lips.

 

“You’ll do great, and even if you think you won’t,” Jungeun can’t hear anything else but Sooyoung’s voice, soft and gentle and present. “I’ll be here to remind you that you did. Whether you like it or not.” Sooyoung dips down for one more chaste kiss. “Now try to keep up.”  

 

She tastes like a dream.

 

Jungeun chuckles at the memory of a time they’ve already had this exchange, quips back You sure love to talk about yourself, squeezing their hands together for one more silent promise of good luck before the curtains rise and stage lights flicker open; heels clacking forward towards a crowd waiting just for them.

 

She can see their dance instructor and the rest of the class sitting up front; encouragement and support bleeding off their waving hands and mouthed words of “You can do this!”

 

Sooyoung stays close, her warmth keeping the nerves away; Jungeun knows they’ll do fine.

 

When the music starts, her body goes through the motions, instinctive. The rhythm flows through her limbs, seamless and in tune to every beat. Just like how they’ve rehearsed.

 

As soon as the lights beam above them on its final note, bright and blinding, the song fades into raucous cheers and whistles and a standing ovation; but they’re nothing compared to the sounds of Sooyoung’s breathless huffs – chest rising and falling, skin damp, ebony strands strewn over her shoulders – she looks just as tempting as the first time.

 

She won’t make the same mistake twice.

 

Jungeun pulls her in for a kiss she’s been wanting to have the moment they had their first practice, figures that her class and instructor wouldn’t mind the extra effort. By the way Sooyoung tugs her closer, angles to taste her deeper, she knows Sooyoung doesn’t mind, either.