Note: Some songs I listened to a lot while writing this chapter. Again, you can skip these if you'd like:

• Dream Girl (Remix) by Ir-Sais and Bauw Alejandro
• Grateful by Mahalia
• Fragile by Eryn Allen Kane
• Fluid by Amaarae
• Yes/No by Banky W.

Time was a funny thing.

Byulyi vividly remembered the way pain and fear worked in tandem exactly one month ago to hold her in captivity. All that she knew to be true was seized in a matter of moments, snatched away like a necklace forcefully yanked from one’s neck. Sudden.

As she clutched painfully at her ankle exactly one month ago, the basketball star had internally pleaded and bargained with whichever deities were listening to, once more, place her sure-footed on a path that led to a future with basketball.

Exactly one month later, that’s exactly what she had. And it .

“Yujin. Please,” Byulyi huffed.

“Is there pain or does it just hurt?” The stern-faced trainer looked on apathetically as Byul crouched down, desperately trying to in gasps of air.

“How am I supposed to know the difference?”

“Pain means something’s wrong, and if something was wrong, you’d know. Stand up.” Ignoring the young woman’s whines, Yujin continued. “You’re out of shape, that’s all. Physically and mentally. The ankle’s stable. We spent a month getting it back to good condition, it’s fine.”

There was no room for argument with Yujin. Never was, never would be. Other than Kwon Jihun, Byulyi couldn’t conceive of any other trainer as knowledgeable as the woman looking down at her now. If Yujin said the ankle was fine, it was fine. A 10-minute conditioning warmup leaving Byul winded had nothing to do with her ankle. There was no pain, her body just hurt from such rigorous activity having been foreign to her for so long. Lifting weights and running on the elliptical were challenging activities in their own right, but drills for agility and speed—complete with resistance bands, BOSU balls, and cones—were their own circle of fitness hell.

“Today we’ll work on your lateral movement and we’ll do some agility work. I want to get a baseline for where we are with explosion, but that can wait until Monday.” Yujin went into more detail afterwards, rattling off the exercises on the day’s agenda. Byulyi had not even a minute to compose herself before her trainer stood ready with a stopwatch in hand. “You know the first drill. Get in position. We’ll start now.”

Sure-footed on a path that led to a future with basketball. What she asked for a month ago is what she got.

*

She should’ve worn a headband today.

The hour crept by. Seconds felt like minutes . . . except they weren’t minutes. They were seconds, among the smallest increments of time, and they refused to pass any faster.

Now on the surviving end of the workout, the last vestiges of Byulyi’s energy and focus were directed towards ridding her eyes of the endless streams of perspiration clouding her vision. She was doing a job at it.

“Drink water.” The young woman turned to find Coach Do standing next to her. Of course it would be her, and of course she wouldn’t even spare Byul a glance. Still, the athlete obeyed and fetched herself a cup of water from the water cooler behind them. “You’re out of shape.”

That offhand comment evaporated between them, eventually overcome by the cacophony of sneakers squeaking, whistles being blown, and her teammates barking clipped commands to each other. All anyone had been mentioning today was her lack of physical fitness. Needing to maintain some semblance of dignity, Byul stood from her hunched over position.

“It’s not that bad.”

“And you’re favoring your right ankle,” Coach Do continued as if Byulyi hadn’t spoken.

“Well, it was injured. Not sure what you expect.” Thankfully, her coach didn’t comment on the edge in her voice. Instead, she shot Byulyi a look of warning before refocusing on the full-team scrimmage taking place.

“Keyword being ‘was’. Yujin told us the ankle’s fine. Coach Ok and I caught the tail end of your workout with her. There’s clear progress but you’re holding yourself back, you’re still thinking of yourself as injured. Even if you’re physically fine, until you get past that mindset, you won’t be medically cleared and you’ll like reinjure yourself.”

Well. What was there to say to that?

“You’re out of shape, that’s all. Physically and mentally.” Yujin’s words from earlier rushed back to her. Mentally out of shape. A concept.

Her session with Yujin complete, Byulyi was finished for the day and free to take in the remainder of practice for the rest of the team. It wasn’t ideal—she’d much prefer participating instead of watching from the sidelines. Literally. Controlling the tempo of the game, locking opponents up defensively, the swell of cheers from an audience strengthening her every move—Byulyi desperately missed it all.

But there was a charm to spectating, she supposed. There were certain habits from teammates that she hadn’t noticed before: Minseo was always poaching in the lane, so the person she guarded was always open; Chaewon still didn’t know the plays; Jungmin was good, solid foundational skills and she moved without the ball very well. Deserving of more playing time. The senior was in the middle of mentally gushing over how dynamic the younger basketball player was when Coach Do sank into the seat next to her.

“The team’s been playing very well without you, but we all miss you. We could use your leadership on the court.”

“Are you trying to get back on my good side now after ripping into me earlier?”

“Byulyi, please,” her coach scoffed, “you’re about to be a professional athlete. You can’t be this thin-skinned. Nothing I said earlier was ‘ripping into you’. It was all facts.”

“Mmm.”

“You’re too sensitive. If that’s how you’re going to stay, playing professionally is going to be rough.” Once she’d gotten that point across, Coach Do decided on a less abrasive approach. “It’s nice that you could join the team for practices again.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Coach Ok misses you the most.”

“That’s hard to believe. She hasn’t said much of anything to me beyond occasionally checking in.”

“She’s trying to not put pressure on you to come back too soon but keeps asking me for updates. You should talk to her.”

“I’ll think about,” Byul tried to act nonchalant. Truthfully, though, her insides smiled at the idea of the usually-stonefaced coach missing her enough to clandestinely siphon progress reports from Coach Do.

“You’re an .”

“You can’t talk to me like that! I’m a student,” Byulyi laughed.

“It’s a fact. I can’t get in trouble for telling the truth. You’re sensitive but also an . A combination from hell. Ugh, that’s the third time Yeonmi turned the ball over,” she muttered distractedly.

“You’ll miss me when I leave.”

“Are you leaving?” The older woman challenged, attention back on Byulyi now.

“Yup. Gave a verbal commitment on Wednesday. Will need your help with visa stuff, though.”

“You’re helpless. You can’t do anything on your own.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” both women laughed out loud, earning a few stares from other team officials and players. It was common knowledge to expect chaos when these two got together. “You saw what happened last time I tried to go overseas.”

“We got to snatch you up. A win for us.”

The tension from earlier—all one-sided, of course—dissipated. Byul and Coach Do fell into their normal routine of sarcasm and playfulness. They laughed at inappropriate jokes and watched and critiqued the team’s practice together for the next 20 minutes before the question Moonbyul tried to hold back refused to be suppressed any longer.

“Hey,” she started softly, avoiding eye contact, “do you have any advice? About playing professionally, I mean.” As much as Byulyi gave her, Coach Do was no slouch as an athlete. The reason Moonbyul let the woman talk to her however she wanted was because Do Siwan knew what she was talking about when it came to basketball. Her resume spoke for itself.

“Don’t be soft.”

“I’m serious, Coach.”

“And so am I,” Siwan’s expression sobered. “It’s a job, Byulyi. It’s not university. Your coaches and teammates aren’t going to hold your hand through the process. They’re expecting you to come in and get serious. There’s big money being spent on you. Take everything seriously and don’t make anyone regret bringing you in. Do your homework. Be prepared. Minimize any distractions.”

That was along the lines of what she expected, but her heart dropped to her stomach nonetheless. “Doesn’t sound very fun,” Byulyi mumbled.

“It’s a lot of fun! Sometimes too much fun, that’s the problem. Outside of games and team-sanctioned training, everything’s on you. You have to watch what you eat, watch how you train, make sure you get enough sleep. As long as your head is on straight and you remember that your job comes before everything else, you’ll be fine.”

A few solemn moments of silence transpired before Byulyi felt a warm palm along the back of her neck.

“If you couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have let you get this far in the process,” Coach Do gave a reassuring squeeze. “You know that, right?”

Byulyi simply shrugged.

“There’s no way I’d let you embarrass SNU’s reputation like that,” she chuckled, effectively putting an end to the sentimental moment.

“This is why I prefer Coach Kim,” Byulyi pushed her coach’s hand away.

“Oh please, he’s not as fun as me, and you know that.”

“Mmhmm. Whatever,” the young woman grumbled. “Can we watch film after practice?” It took Siwan some time to process just how quickly Byulyi had moved on to the next topic.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Don’t you have anything to do? No life of your own to live?”

Yongsun was viewing apartments today with Chorong, and then the roommates were going out later tonight so . . . “No. Not really,” heat melted across her face from slight embarrassment.

“What if I have plans?”

“You don’t, otherwise you would’ve said so already.”

“Smartass.”

“First I’m an , now I’m a smartass. Starting to sense a pattern . . .”

“That you’re a thorn in my side? Thought I’d made that clear years ago.”

A sudden whistle blaring through the gym made both women pause — the team was getting a water break.

Deserting Moonbyul on the bench, Coach Do stood to huddle with the other coaches as the players flocked to the water cooler behind Byulyi.

“Wait, are we on for film later?” She called over the wave of chatter rising. The older women quickly gave her a thumbs up before switching into Coach mode with the other adults.

Byulyi wasn’t lying earlier when admitting that she had nothing else to do. If things went her way, she and Yongsun would spend the night picking up where they left off the night before—kissing. But, alas, things did not go her way. Yongsun was busy with Chorong all day. Annoying.

Quickly walking to the scorer’s table, the senior grabbed her cellphone and sent the subject of her thoughts a message.

To: Yong

I’m bored. 12:36 pm

From: Yong

Aren’t you at practice? 12:37 pm

To: Yong

Yeah, but I miss you. 12:37 pm

She wouldn’t pressure the graduate student into a relationship, but Byulyi also refused to hide her feelings for Yongsun anymore. All cards were on the table. All of hers, at least.

From: Yong

You’re just saying that because of what we did last night. 12:38 pm

To: Yong

Yes, and . . .? It still counts.12:38 pm

From: Yong

😷 12:39 pm

To: Yong

That is the very opposite of what you were saying/doing last night.

You yesterday: 🥰 😘 🤗 😢12:40 pm

From: Yong

The last one 😂 12:40 pm

To: Yong

Gonna change your name in my phone to “My Crybaby” 12:41 pm

She was pushing her luck with that last message. Thus far, Yongsun hadn’t retreated, hadn’t clammed up at the mention of their kissing the night before. That didn’t mean she never would, though, and Byulyi knew that even hinting at relationship-like concepts — any form of possessiveness or exclusivity, for example — like she just did might be the straw that would break the camel’s back and send Yongsun tripping over her feet as she rushed to backpedal.

From: Yong

Mmm. Well, it’s your phone. You do what you want with it.

We’re done eating lunch. Going to view more places now.

I’ll text you later. 12:42 pm

The response could have been worse. Letting out the breath she’d been holding in, Moonbyul sent one final message before she, too, returned to what she’d been doing.

To: Yong

Kk! Send pics!

(Of the apartments!)

(Or of yourself . . . lol. Jk.)

(unless . . .?)

(jk. Stay safe. I’ll ttyl) 12:44 pm

*

Heeyeon lazing on the living room couch was the first image Byulyi was treated to upon entering their apartment. A hint of jealousy bubbled up within her at how carefree her roommate appeared. Weekend practices and trainings were a thing of the past for Heeyeon. How lovely.

“Look at you, living life to the fullest,” she bitterly announced her presence. “Trying to soak up the last moments of freedom now before business school snatches it away on Monday?”

“You’re projecting,” Heeyeon smoothly deflected the whining. “What did Yujin do to you today to have you acting this childish?”

“The thing is, it wasn’t even that hard of a workout, I’m just weak now,” she pouted as she shuffled over to the couch. Motioning for Heeyeon to make space for her, Byulyi plopped onto the seat.

“You’re not weak, you’re coming back from an injury. Your ankle rehab is done, but it takes time to get back into basketball shape, Byul. All the lifting you were doing before is nowhere near the same as playing. You know this.”

She did. It didn’t make the process any less frustrating though.

“What did Coach Ok say?”

“Nothing, really. But Coach Do said Coach Ok misses me and that I should talk to her.”

“I believe it. You know how she is. And you’re one of her favorites, so even though her face was probably made of stone all day, her heart was probably jumping for joy seeing you up and moving.”

“Shut up,” Byulyi blushed.

“It’s true. After me, you’re her fave.”

“After you?!”

No matter how a serious conversation was taking place, these two found something to be competitive about. Byulyi’s rehab long forgotten, the young women spent the next few minutes citing what they believed to be concrete evidence of Coach Ok favoring them more than the other. They both received texts from their coach wishing them a happy holiday season, Byulyi got a phone call once, and Heeyeon received a video call, but Coach Ok’s video had been turned off so, in effect, it was a phone call. Both had been introduced to the older woman’s husband. The score was deadlocked.

“She helped get me started with pro prospects!”

“She did the same for me, too,” Heeyeon rolled her eyes. “There were offers but I wasn’t interested.”

“Damn. We’re tied then.”

It was how seriously Moonbyul was taking this, her furrowed eyebrows and lips scrunched in contemplation, that made her roommate burst into laughter.

“You’re a loser, Byulyi. Don’t you have anything better to worry about other than figuring out if Coach Ok loves you more?”

Thinking once again about Yongsun and how busy she was, the senior answered honestly. “Nope.”

“Where’s unnie? You usually go bug her when you’re jobless like this.”

“She’s with Chorong all day today, and she’s going to her parents’ home tomorrow.”

“Ugh, you’re going to be so annoying this weekend,” Heeyeon groaned.

“Honestly, yeah,” Byulyi chuckled. “Was that my cake you were eating?” The plate on the table in front of them caught her attention. The residue looked like that of the cake Yongsun surprised her with last night.

“Obviously. What other cake would I be eating. It was really good! Where did you get it?”

“Yong got it for me last night. Had a small get-together to celebrate my verbal commitment to Fenerbahçe.”

“And somehow I didn’t get an invite,” Heeyeon drawled.

“When I say small, it was literally just the four of us. Wheein and Hyejin left after a few minutes, so, really, it was just me and Yong.”

“Sounds like the young ones did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t think of that at the time, but now that you mention it, that does sound a lot like something they’d do,” she mused.

“Okay, so you spent the evening with Yongsun-unnie. Alone. What was that like?”

“I’m so glad you asked!”

Byulyi beamed as she gave Heeyeon a play-by-play of the evening. It was normal to tell her roommate about what happened with the women in her life, but that’s usually all it ever was — telling Heeyeon about what happened after the fact. Byulyi was good with women. No matter the situation, she could smirk, flirt, or talk her way out of or, when the mood struck her, into trouble. Yongsun was the first woman that she was at a complete loss with. Conversations with Heeyeon became less of simply telling her what happened with Yongsun, and more of desperately seeking advice on what her next steps should be. The kiss from the night before was perfect. Everything that Byulyi thought she and Yongsun could be converged in that moment. It felt right. The response Yongsun gave her earlier during practice, though . . . Moonbyul wasn’t sure if they were back to being on different pages.

“Might be time you stop asking me what to do next and start asking Yongsun-unnie,” Heeyeon coolly recommended. The show she’d been waiting on was finally starting. “Or you could trust that you have it in you to make the correct decisions and figure it out on your own.”

“You’re brushing me off for a show that you could watch later.”

“I’m not brushing you off, Byul. I don’t know what unnie’s thinking. Unless you ask her, you won’t either. All we know is that she likes you, which means you’ve done well enough for yourself thus far to get her interested in you.”

That . . . wasn’t the worst advice.

“I can work with that.”

“Awesome. Now, you’re welcome to stay and watch, but if you’re going to do that, you have to be quiet.”

“Pass. Going to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

The pressure from the showerhead in the locker room did a magical job of kneading out the knots in her body, but it left Byulyi zapped of any remaining energy. Just as Heeyeon’s schedule would grow hectic once classes started on Monday, Byul’s would, too. Maybe spending one day doing nothing but sleeping was a luxury she should make the most of while still available.

Bidding Heeyeon farewell, Byul shuffled to her room. Once her hand held onto the knob, she remembered something that all her teammates took turns drilling into her head after practice.

“Yeonie!” She called from down the hall.

“What?” Heeyeon yelled back.

“There’s a big party next Saturday. The men’s fencing team is hosting it. Wanna go? It’s supposed to be the party to start the semester.”

“I’ll leave it to the young people.”

“We’re the same age!”

“Then you should leave it to the young people, too.”

“Never mind. I’ll go with the team.”

Only a grunt came in response. Her roommate was fully engrossed in her show now. Byulyi got the message and entered her room.

Resting on her bed, a calming playlist churned out tunes that put Byul’s mind at ease. Soft sunlight filtered in through the window next to her bed, adding a comfortable warmth. It was peaceful.

Just as the senior felt herself succumbing to a much-needed sleep, her music temporarily paused when a message came in. Lazily reaching over for the device, she checked on who it was. Reflexively, her face lit up.

From: Yong

This one was nice:

[Attachment: 1 image]

[Attachment: 1 image]

Oh, and here 🙄: [Attachment: 1 image] 3:16 pm

To: Yong

You sent pics of an apartment! It looks spacious!

And you sent a pic of yourself. You look beautiful 🥺 3:16 pm

From: Yong

You told me to send both. 3:16 pm

To: Yong

😎 3:17 pm

Maybe Heeyeon was onto something and Byulyi really was better at this than she thought. The thought sent her to sleep with a renewed sense of confidence.

*

Throughout the week that followed, Byulyi and Yongsun weren’t able to see each other as much they would have liked. Once classes started, they were both unexpectedly inundated with the responsibilities of what would be their last semester of school. Yongsun not only had classes, there were also meetings for her capstone presentation, she still worked 10 hours with athletes at The Center, and when not working with athletes, she was shadowing the Academic Advisor that Director Choi paired her with.

They’d navigated hectic schedules before, their tried and true method of spending time together being sleeping over at each other’s apartments. With that, no matter how busy their days, they’d end their nights together. Since the mutual confessions, though, the limbo they were in stripped them of that option. Yongsun didn’t mention the sleepovers, Byulyi was too nervous to.

They still made an effort though. Moonbyul popped into The Center a few times that week—her heart racing each time at the joy on Yongsun’s face from seeing her—and Yongsun made sure to buy and deliver dinner to Byulyi’s apartment a couple times. With the senior back into more rigorous training, the older woman purposely set time aside to make sure Moonbyul was eating properly. Of course, among all of that, they maintained conversations via text and phone calls. Part of Byul wondered if this is what their relationship would be reduced to after she left.

She kind of hated the idea of that.

Given all of that, the athlete woke up the following Sunday not only severely exhausted from the previous night of partying, but also in desperate need of Yongsun’s touch. It was potentially the third day of no Yongsun. They had dinner together on Thursday, but, back with the team now, Byulyi traveled with them to an away game on Friday, and she spent all of Saturday with them, too, the party included. Before another congested week began, she needed time with Yongsun.

Eyes closed, the athlete reached for her phone from the night table beside her bed before opening exactly one (1) eye to gauge the time. 2:48 pm.

“.” She got home around 5:30 am, quickly washed her face, then fell into bed, barely managing to remove her party clothes beforehand. Now, not only had she slept a good chunk of the day away, her head thumping and was irritated. It seemed that standing next to massive speakers all night and straining one’s voice to be heard over the music had a way of causing adverse effects.

It wasn’t only the time that surprised her, it was also the fact that her phone was covered in notifications. Twitter, Instagram, SNOW, texts. Byulyi hadn’t had even one drop of alcohol—the team couldn’t drink during season and, even though she could because she wasn’t active right now, as the captain, the athlete felt it her responsibility to lead by example—but the events of last night were still fuzzy to her.

“Who do all these numbers belong to?” She groggily asked herself. Opening one message, Byulyi read “This is Hyumjoo! Save my number 😘” before quickly exiting the messenger app altogether and navigating to her “favorite” contacts. While the phone rang, much too loudly for her liking, bits and pieces of the party came back to her.

She’d interacted with a lot of women last night. That was not the intention going into the evening, but it just happened. Some walked up to her and started talking, so she talked back because anything else would have been rude. Others were straightforward in their flirting and touching, both of which Byulyi didn’t think she returned—she definitely did not touch anyone last night—but the influx of unsaved numbers in her messages told a different story about the flirting.

All of that became secondary once the person on the other end of the call finally answered.

“Byul-ah.”

“Yong.” She sounded like and she knew it. Her voice came out gruff.

“What?”

“Come over.”

“No.”

“Why not? I want to cuddle.”

“So cuddle with your pillow,” Yongsun said. The ‘tick tack’ of her fingers striking against what had to be keyboard keys traveled through the phone. She must have been in the middle of working.

“I want to cuddle with you.” If she were in better condition, Byulyi would have considered being more understanding, but she wasn’t. She was cranky and tired and wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep with Yongsun in her arms.

“Byul-ah, I’m busy,” Yongsun answered gently. She wasn’t annoyed or angry. That was a good sign.

“Yong, please. I feel like , just come over. I want to hold you.”

Moments of silence dragged by.

Despite the exhaustion set in her bones, Moonbyul fist pumped aggressively when she heard the heavy sigh that trickled through the speaker.

*

They were puzzle pieces that fit perfectly.

Yongsun arrived minutes after ending their phone call. She took one look at Byulyi, rolled her eyes, then climbed onto the bed and into the senior’s awaiting arms. Sighing contentedly, Byulyi wrapped her bare arms around the older woman’s body, holding her in place as they lay chest to chest.

“I missed you,” the athlete rasped.

“Mmm. I missed you, too. Judging by your voice, you had a good time last night,” Yongsun breathed a small laugh.

“It was okay. I should’ve stayed in with you though.”

“You don’t have to do that,” the graduate student sighed. “Don’t think you have to stop hanging out with your friends or whatever for my sake. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“I didn’t say it for your benefit, I said it because I meant it.”

“Okay, whatever.”

“It’s really nice right now, us being together. Can you not get an attitude just because I said I would’ve preferred to hang out with you instead of partying?”

“I’m not getting an attitude.”

“You sound like you’re getting an attitude.”

Somehow, they’d ruined the good start they had.

“What’s the problem, Yong? Because there’s no way the issue can be the fact that I want to spend time with you.”

The graduate student took her time, sighing and speaking up moments later. “I don’t want us to start acting differently just because of whatever’s happening between us.” She sounded defeated, as if the very same words she’d only just spoken had been uttered several times before. “You can hang out with your friends, you can go to parties, do what you normally do. I want us to stay us,” she spoke barely above a whisper.

“That’s fine. I want that, too. When I said what I said, all I meant was that the party was fun but spending the night with you would’ve been better. That’s it. That’s all I meant.”

Hearing no response, Byulyi closed her eyes, prepared to fall asleep to Yongsun’s steady breaths.

“I’m sorry for getting snippy,” the graduate student eventually spoke up.

“You apologizing? The world’s end is near.”

“Shut up!” Yongsun weakly slapped Byulyi’s hip.

“You said you don’t want whatever’s happening between us to affect how we behave. What is happening between us?” Remembering Heeyeon’s words from the week before, Byulyi bit the bullet and asked what she’d wanted to ask since the confessions. “And I’m not asking that to pressure you into anything, I just want us to talk about it so that we’re on the same page.”

A tickling sensation shot up her arm as Yongsun removed one of Byulyi’s arms around her waist and began tracing the web of green-blue veins along the inside of the athlete’s wrist. For minutes, that was all she did, her chest still rhythmically falling up and down against Moonbyul’s. Time danced by before the graduate student interlocked her fingers with Byulyi’s. Immediately, the younger woman lifted their joined hands to her lips, gently kissing Yongsun’s knuckles. She then placed a kiss atop the head that was tucked underneath her chin.

“Say what you need to say, Yong.”

“I’m scared,” she confessed.

“Of?”

“Everything. I’m scared of losing our friendship if a relationship doesn’t work, scared of losing you. I’m scared of not being enough for you. Scared of real life getting in the way and being too much for us to overcome.”

Those were all valid and, no matter how much she wanted to, Byulyi couldn’t promise Yongsun that none of that would happen. She felt that is was all very unlikely but couldn’t give the guarantee that she knew Yongsun was looking for.

“Whatever you want is what we’ll do,” Byul said instead, looking to assuage her best friend’s fears.

“What do you want? It’s no fair if only my wishes are taken into consideration.”

“You,” the athlete said immediately and resolutely. “That’s all I want. Woke up this morning with a bunch of new numbers in my phone and I hated it. It didn’t feel right. I just want it to be you and me.” Moonbyul tried her hardest not to react when she felt Yongsun sigh against her.

“I’m not ready for a relationship. And I feel like for saying it, but I’m just … not there yet. I still feel like we have too much to lose if things go wrong,” Yongsun said, attempting to pull her hand away from Moonbyul’s, but the athlete held firm.

“And what about if things go right?”

“It’s a big risk.”

“And I think we’re worth that risk.”

“Look, I’m not disagreeing, I’m just saying I’m not ready, Byulyi. It’s different for you. You’ve been with other people; you’ve had your fun. You’ve done relationships, you’ve done hookups. You know how it all goes. I don’t have that experience. A relationship this big scares me. It’s a big ing deal and . . . I’m not trying to freak out on you, but it’s ing scary to be 24-years-old and know that I’ve likely found the last relationship I’ll ever be in.” Her voice began to crack.

“Look,” the senior rubbed soothing circles on Yongsun’s lower back, “I’m not trying to force you into anything, we can take our time, Yong. There’s no rush. If you know that down the line, you want us, I’m fine going as slow as you need. We’re past being just friends. It’s impossible to go back to that, but I’m fine with the in-between for now: not being in a relationship but being more than platonic.”

“That’s, what? Friends-with-benefits? I’m not doing that to you.”

“It’s fine. I promise. I’m fine with it.” The woman on top of her stiffened.

Everyone knew Moon Byulyi didn’t do friends-with-benefits. She didn’t do buddies. Not anymore, at least. Now, she was all about romance and exclusive relationships.

“You don’t do friends-with-benefits, and I can’t—I won’t—in good conscience, ask you to do it now.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering. If it’s for you, I’m fine with it. I’m serious about you and I’ll do whatever’s needed to make sure we work out. If that means starting as friends-with-benefits for the time being, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Byul-ah –” the older woman started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Yongsun, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? Say no if you want to say no. Don’t say no because you’re worried about me. No matter how we cut it, we’d have to start slow anyway. This is one way to ease into things.” Her voice was soft, but her words were determined.

With bated breath, Moonbyul waited for any reaction from Yongsun. That’s all she’d be doing for the foreseeable future: waiting for Yongsun. And she’d defend the decision to do so to anyone that questioned it.

In what felt like forever later, Yongsun nodded.

“Yeah to us being officially more than friends but less than a relationship?” Byulyi asked for verbal confirmation.

“Yeah.”

“You can say no.” Despite her excitement at the prospect of their new status, the senior wanted to give Yongsun an out if she needed one.

“I’m saying yes.”

“Phew,” Byul heaved a deep sigh. “Wow. We’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this.”

“I promise on everything I’ll take care of you, Yong.”

“We have to work, Byulyi. We have to.”

“We will. I know we will.”

Neither said much else for the remainder of the day, Yongsun just held onto Byulyi tighter, both of their minds racing before sleep overcame them.

Note: Feeling like the cat’s out of the bag about where I live. It’s been exposed by the fact that it’s still Tuesday where I am lol.

There’s a lot of content already written for this next phase. Things start moving faster from here on out, I believe. For those wondering, there are two main “phases” left: before Byulyi leaves for Turkey and after Byulyi leaves for Turkey . . . because she’s leaving for Turkey. That is not up for debate. It’s happening.

Another thank you to @tova_nori on Twitter for the “loosely based snapchat draws”. I really and truly love them and am grateful that this story has inspired such wonderful art! Check the pieces out here.

Thank you to everyone that reads this story and to those that recommend it to others (if they don't like or want to read the story, that's okay!)! Thank you to everyone that subscribed! Thank you to everyone!