Heejin doesn’t earn her wings until she successfully guided her seventh human through the gates of Heaven. 

(Heejin thinks that God’s affinity for the number seven is a bit over the top—living the past five hundred or so years of her life without wings made transportation a real pain. But, Heejin supposes that whatever He says goes without ever questioning.)

Throughout the years of being an angel and guiding humans through their lifetimes, Heejin is used to seeing the shimmery glow of angels following other people in the tangible world.

Without a singular doubt, Heejin’s favorite angel to see out and about is Hyunjin. Coming into Heaven thirty years later than Heejin, Hyunjin earned her wings a lot sooner than Heejin had, her first and seventh beings passing at much younger ages.

(Heejin doesn’t like to ponder the cruelty of sentencing an innocent three-year-old to the pain of terminal cancer, didn’t like to see Hyunjin cry at the end of her person’s bed—red eyes and seemingly endless tears tracking her angelic face.

Even if Hyunjin was the first entity that her third person saw to welcome her through the pearly gates of Heaven, there was something tragic about watching life drain away from the purest form of youth—something especially tragic about her first person to guide fading away faster than any young spirit should.)

(After Hyunjin had guided her person through Heaven and left her to meet with God, Hyunjin’s knees buckled under her, the emotional whiplash of death swirling uneasily the misery of loss in her heart like moving a branch through sticky tar.

Heejin had to hold her, allow for the girl’s tears to soak through the satin of her clothes, couldn’t stand to watch Hyunjin’s hope and faith become tainted at the hands of the sentence God gave to such an innocent soul.

Still, Hyunjin sprung back. Eyes just as bright and hopeful, heart as innocent and pure as the first day she graced the heavenly skies.)

(Seeing Hyunjin come back like that, it’s the first time Heejin falls. But, she pushes the thought aside. One mustn’t entertain their own selfish desires of the heart as by the creed God enforced.)

(That doesn’t mean she stops falling.)

Either way, affectionately, Heejin thinks that if any other younger angel than her were to fare on better terms with The Big Man Himself, there wasn’t a better one than Hyunjin. Almost childishly hopeful and untouchably pure, Hyunjin epitomized the image of an angel, is the definition of angel that God hails.

Certainly, it couldn’t have been Heejin.

Heejin learns this when she guides her fortieth person.

~

Sooyoung is a troublesome woman. 

She was a rascal as a kid—climbing anywhere, fighting anyone with small fisted hands, doing whatever she could to get her way. Even with Heejin watching over her and doing her best to steer her the rightful way, Sooyoung often fell for the whispering temptation of self-pleasure. More than just a handful, in all of the years Heejin has spent watching over the souls of human beings, Sooyoung had to be the one Heejin had the hardest one to get through to—if she could even get through to her at all.

It was fine when she was younger. One extra scoop of ice cream, stealing a cookie or two from the cookie jar without her mother knowing was one thing, even pushing the boy who had better shoes than her pales in comparison to what the older Sooyoung does now.

Now, it’s as if Heejin and her gentle guiding voice has become overpowered by the world of sin and epicureanism. Following Sooyoung through the dark and grimy clubs of the city, watching her fall into hazy spells of lust and attraction and being unable to give her the Heavenly guidance of what is right, Heejin has seen her disappear behind doors of unknown apartments, bathroom stalls, and janitorial closets with men and women who had their own strings attached—has seen her walking out from them with lazy smiles and half-lidded red eyes, more buttons left undone than when she first walked in.

If the sinful was one thing, the needles pricking into her bloodstream and the line of white she inhales like air was another. 

At first, Heejin only watched in fear at how Sooyoung spiraled, her ears closed to Heejin’s worried pleading. 

Heejin knows that she is starting to lose Sooyoung to Lucifer when she watches her become entangled with a cruel and wealthy man far beyond her years, his body left abandoned without an angel to guide him through life. Watching her wait out his years and even marrying him, Heejin knows that the world has given Sooyoung a hand so strong that even Heaven itself could not fight it, most absolutely would not welcome. 

(Heejin supposes that like misery, evil loves company. Sooyoung was sinful in her own hedonism, but her husband had the empathy and sympathy of an empty and shallow dish—smiling in the face of poverty, finding joy in watching the powerless subdued to abuse.)

Heejin still remembers the night that sealed Sooyoung’s damnation and it begins with a red lacy lingerie set and a red satin scarf that ends with a blindfolded and aged man, slumped and bonded with restraints smelling of sarin.

(Yeah, it may look ing weird to wear a gas mask with lingerie that barely covers her and , but, as long as that old ist pig couldn’t see her, Sooyoung could kill that sad motherer with poison strong enough that a whiff could make him foam at the mouth and die like the piece of that he is.)

Acting well enough that if Heejin hadn’t seen Sooyoung murder the man, she too would believe that the woman is innocent, her big brown and pleading eyes crying tears that ruins her mascara. The judge and the jury fall for her act, the devil named Hedonism on her shoulder swimming in the pleasure of chaos winning, in watching Sooyoung revel in the wealth that is left for her.

(Truly, for being so cruel and hard, the man surely had a weakness for pretty and seductive women, enough for him to disregard a prenup that would protect his finances. 

In Sooyoung’s eyes, he’s easy prey.

And holy was he in’ easy—easy to please, easy to seduce, easy to steal from, even easier to kill.)

Thinking about it, Heejin can’t find it in herself to empathize for the man, even if everything she knows tells her to search for the man’s innocence and forgive. How could she forgive someone who would gladly take advantage of children? In the whole scheme of things, Sooyoung had her own right, had her own justification to rid of this poor excuse of a man.

God, did he need an angel. Forsaken and left to rot in the putrid carcass that he lived in, his soul is Lucifer’s to take. (Heejin thinks that his rancid soul deserves the punishment that he will be sentenced to suffer through—even finds a slight joy at knowing his soul will meet with the torture of the scalding flames of Hell and Lucifer’s cruel grasp.)

Some part of Heejin thinks that Sooyoung doesn’t deserve to endure that same fate.

Sooyoung has her own flaws, has committed her own sins, but she still has the heart to cry at the death of her mother and younger sister caught in the unfortunate circumstance of a hit and run, still has the humanity to take in a wounded and starving dog that staggers around her neighborhood, often left ignored and sneered at like the homeless man that sits outside of her favorite bar.

Selfish epicureanism is one thing, a complete disregard for humanity is another.

Sooyoung still has a heart.

And that’s why Heejin stays, allows for Sooyoung to take advantage of the people that she sets her eyes on, even finds happiness at watching how her eyes light up at the sight of her bank account becoming heavy with wealth, affluence at her front door.

(Heejin doesn’t want to admit it, but she vicariously lives through Sooyoung’s victories—there’s something so satisfying about watching her fulfill her own pleasures.)

And in Sooyoung’s lifetime, Heejin is left with time to think about the laws God has laid down, has given the time to think about the philosophies of her leader and His power. Heejin has spent her nights wondering why He would allow for innocent souls to suffer far more than is necessary for soul building, would give people a sentence that dictates their afterlife if they had free will, questioned the intricacies of His power and how He uses it to puppeteer the fate of others—especially when fate has no room in religion.

When Sooyoung falls from old age and hits her head on the marble of her floor, Heejin has come to the conclusion that the God she knows is not that much greater than the Ruler of the Underworld. At least Lucifer was honest about his morality. God hid behind the superior complex of an all-powerful being with a following large enough that the majority of the world would support his “ever-graceful and loving” existence.

Frankly, it sounds like bull to Heejin.

After Sooyoung dies at her deathbed with a smile on her lips, it’s the first time she sees Heejin. Leaning her shoulder against the door of her comfy room, Heejin waits with her eyes looking lovingly at the woman, her white and glorious wings carefully tucked behind her back.

(It’s an odd feeling to exist as a wisp of a soul and looking at her old and wrinkled body on a bed of satin, but with Heejin’s soft hands taking hers, she doesn’t feel the slightest wrinkle of fear.)

Presenting as her much younger and mischievous self, fresh in her early twenties and passionately ambitious, she is somewhat pleased and smiling that usual confident and lazy smirk that Heejin has seen her wear for nights that she cannot keep count. Heejin knows that Sooyoung is content with the life that she lived and is willing to accept whatever sentence that has been given to her.

“There’s no way in Hell I’m making it to Heaven, Guardian Angel.”

Heejin smiles and soothingly runs her fingers through Sooyoung’s hair, “I will not be taking you to the gates of Heaven, my dear, but you will find that you will be okay.”

Appearing through the wall and dressed in black, it’s been centuries since Heejin has last seen this figure. The last time she saw her, she had been angrily stripped vulnerable of her white clothes, her back bleeding angry red and her wings ripped and torn away from her spine like tacks nailed to a wall. Heejin could never forget the agonized and pained screaming that echoed through the air like a heavy anvil dropping on her heart when He had fisted her sparkling wings, the action more than enough to get the angel on her knees and wailing with torment. Yanking and pulling with the might of Heavenly strength, Heejin can never forget the sound of the angel’s bones cracking and dislodging, an eerie popping that haunts her still, the sight of her white wings dripping with blood, its splatters getting on the pristine white feathers. She could never forget watching her friend falling from grace into the embrace of Lucifer’s arms. 

Centuries passed, she looks like she’s doing much better, if the playful smirk on her lips is any indication—Heejin has missed that smile dearly.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Heej.”

Smiling back at her, a true and genuine one that is clean of disgust or hate, Heejin feels her heart’s joy at seeing the figure welcoming Sooyoung into Hell.

“I didn’t think I would either, Jungie.”

“I guess even the best angels fail.”

Now under the protection of Jungeun’s wings, its feathers now jet-black, it feels like coming home for Sooyoung.

“Black looks good on you.”

The playful smirk turns into a cocky and prideful one, her wings feathering out and expanding to its full length, “Doesn’t it?”

“Better than white ever did.”

Before turning away with Sooyoung and disappearing to the of flame welcoming them into Hell, Jungeun casts a last look behind, “Black would look good on you too, Heejin.”

Shrugging, Heejin can’t even find insult in her sly implication, at Jungeun seeing the start of her dissent from God—doesn’t have it in her to care.

“Take care of her, Jungeun. Sooyoung doesn’t deserve to suffer like the rest.”

Jungeun’s voice is distant and disappearing, but Heejin still hears it clear as a whistle, “I suppose you didn’t really fail with this one, Jeon Heejin. I promise to take care of her.”

And Jungeun doesn’t break her promises.

Starting with being her Guardian Angel and promising her to guide her to the everlasting expanse of Heaven to promising to protect her even past the corporeal life, Jungeun promised to be the Guardian Angel that Heejin deserved, whether or not if she was an angel or a woman who selflessly worked to make life easier for the ones in her reach and the ones that she would never touch.

Even if it means taking the fall for something she didn’t do to protect Heejin.

Even if it means falling from grace for Heejin.

Even if Heejin never meant for it to happen.

(Natural curiosity doesn’t end past death. The first couple years of being an angel, Heejin had questioned His power, inquired with Him his control on the human race and was met with a certain fury that could never quite be described. With angry demands that wished to know who influenced Heejin to question His authority, Jungeun took the blame without hesitation and didn’t even spare a glance at Heejin when God sentenced her fall, didn’t even look at her once when He tore her wings from her, would never give Heejin the overwhelming guilt of watching her eyes cloud in pain. Jungeun already knew of His unfair rule, already came to terms with the pain that comes with rebelling, and took the agony with immeasurable courage and bravery. Hell, Lucifer would be proud of her.

When Lucifer welcomed her through the gates of Hell and healed the afflicted wounds and scars of her past wings, she felt a certain love that God never extended to her and heard the words that she failed to ever hear from Him despite her hundreds of years of working beside Him—doing His dirty work.

“I’m so proud of you” never sounded so ing good.

And plus, she didn’t have to wait seven goddamn years for her wings.)

~.~.~

Being with Sooyoung and allowing her to live the life she desired, it never allowed for Heejin to meet with her favorite angel. Coming home—not to Heaven, but to Hyunjin—Heejin doesn’t even need to see her face to know that it is her when she walks past the gates of Heaven. Curling an arm to pull her in by her shoulder and snuggling into the soft pillowy comfort of her wings, the slight shiver that runs through Hyunjin makes Heejin grin a smile so broad and bright that Heaven should sing at its beauty.

“Welcome home, Heekkie. I’ve missed you.”

Hyunjin’s voice is soft and velvety and everything she has missed hearing for the past eighty-three years. Sighing into her wings and nuzzling into the warmth it provides, Heejin feels a certain relief that no one else could ever provide her.

“I missed you too, Hyun.”

Noticing the absence of a presence behind Heejin, Hyunjin suspects that the angel is in need of comfort, “I’m sorry your person couldn’t follow you through to Heaven.”

Hyunjin never expected Heejin to say, “I’m not.”

Pulling away from her, a frown maring her usually peaceful disposition, Hyunjin feels a tinge of fear at the lack of remorse or sadness in Heejin’s brown and warm eyes, “What do you mean you’re not?”

Heejin sighs, as if she is relieved and at complete ease, “She’s where she is meant to be and I know that they’ll treat her better down there than she’ll ever be treated here.”

Backing away from her, close to frightened at how unbothered Heejin is, “What do you mean she’ll be treated better? Heaven is where glory reigns, where peace and love is everlasting.”

Caressing her thumbs over Hyunjin’s frown and smoothing out her brows, Heejin grins a carefree smile that would usually make Hyunjin’s heart float with indescribable lightness, “Some people aren’t meant to be here, Hyun. There’s no other way to say it.” 

Something about Heejin has changed, that much is blaringly obvious to Hyunjin. The Heejin she knew would be inconsolable if she failed to bring her person to Heaven, if she failed to guide them righteously. The Heejin she knew would not go about with a bounce in her step and a breezy smile on her lips.

But, letting Heejin go this time, Hyunjin knows that this is something that she won’t let go of until she reaches the honest truth behind the other angel’s hazy ambiguous truths.

Taking the hand that Heejin has leant out to her and lacing their fingers together, it makes butterflies stutter in her stomach and Hyunjin can’t remember the last time they didn’t rustle at the presence of her friend.

(Much like Heejin, she ignores what it means, has lived a life long enough to know what her sweaty palms and racing heart means, has fallen in love before to know exactly what this is. But, God has taught her well enough what is appropriate. A love like hers is out of the question. But, how could she stop herself from loving her? With how selfless and caring Heejin is—how attentive and genuinely loving she is—how could she?) 

(Not loving Heejin is out the question.)

“So, are you gonna introduce me to your person?”

Pushing her concern to the back of her mind and leading her to the beaming sunshine of a girl, Hyunjin loves how Heejin naturally mirrors back the smile the new soul sends, “This is Jiwoo, Heekkie. I’ve already told her so much about you!”

Squeezing the hand in hers, Heejin kisses the back of it, so tired of fighting the temptation to do so after so many years, “Good things, I hope?”

Surprised at the affection but unwilling to show how it shakes her, Hyunjin breezes a playful reply, “Isn’t there only good things to tell?”

Oh, if only Hyunjin knew.

If only Hyunjin knew how Heejin had given up on the purity of being an angel, eager to live the free life of choice and decision, willing to give up her wings for the rush of pleasure that comes with giving into the senselessness and the selfishness of epicureanism.

What is there to fear when there is an absence of anxiety at authoritarian violence at the strike of rebellion?

Remembering the look of freedom in Jungeun’s eyes and how her broad shoulders eased at the weightlessness of moral burden on them, Heejin thinks that that is a much better life to live.

Heejin sees it now, sees how God rules by fear veiled by the pretense of humanity.

The words that she was taught in her life before are ones that she will never forget, “Be good and you’ll go to Heaven...you must behave according to the Commandments and the Creed to enter the gates of Heaven...you must be kind to reach the loving arms of Christ…” 

It’s all bull to Heejin. Kindness should not be obligatory—humanity should be genuine, not for the reward of everlasting life.

If falling meant being honest with herself, with others, with disowning a God who lies and hides behind a crown of righteousness, she would if it weren’t for the single tether holding her back—the tether being the one who is holding her hand, being the one angel that she loves the most.

(God would have an absolute fest if He knew that His best angel dreams about His favorite angel squirming underneath her touch.

Heejin likes the thought of God going ing berserk, wants to show the souls in Heaven the monster that He can be, the monster that He is—wants the truth to be told.) 

~.~.~

Heejin is...a lot more forward now. Whether it be about what she wants, how she talks to others, or how she shamelessly flirts with Hyunjin, it’s a change that shakes Hyunjin to the core.

It’s not that she is cruel or mean-spirited, she is by far anything but horrible. She is still just as loving and attentive, genuine in her affection—the same Heejin that Hyunjin fell in love with knows. But, it’s how she is more crass in how she talks, how Hyunjin hears a curse word fall from her lips for the first time in six hundred years, how Heejin kisses her cheek every day—always so dangerously close to her lips. 

When a new mission is assigned to the two angels, it’s something like fate when Hyunjin sees Heejin walk through the walls of her person’s hospital room, her wings coming back to their usual resting position. Hyunjin, pointing at the baby across from hers—the two halves of the room separating two families—Heejin can make out how she mouths, “Yours?”

Smiling and nodding and pointing at the baby across from her and doing the same, Heejin thanks fate for putting them so close for their first encounter.

Hyejoo, Heejin’s person, is a crying bundle of sound and Heejin likes how lovingly her mother gazes at her and how her father wipes his wife’s tears away before tickling the bottom of Hyejoo’s small baby feet and cooing at her.

Heejin makes a promise at the same moment, to guide Hyejoo wherever the girl pleases and to keep her out of enough trouble that she could live a fulfilling life. Having had enough of that Heaven facade, if Hyejoo didn’t want it—couldn’t care less for it—so will Heejin. She’ll protect her through whatever God decides to do, will take the fall if she needs to, will do what Jungeun did for her.

She’ll show Hyejoo a love that is unconditional, unriddled by the ghost of fear and damnation.

Glancing back at Hyunjin again and taking in how lovingly she gazes at Chaewon,  Heejin hopes that Hyejoo won’t steer her away from Hyunjin.

~

Hyejoo, in all of her childish innocence and playful youth, never really loses contact with Chaewon, their mothers having befriended during their trying times of labor.

Watching Hyejoo grow up, Heejin sees how Chaewon grows up too.

Heejin sees Hyunjin almost every week and it’s like Heaven on earth.

When Hyejoo steals her classmate’s sixty-four pack of crayons and shares them with Chaewon, it’s the first time Hyunjin scolds her for her lax guidance, “Heejin! Why didn’t you persuade Hyejoo to ask for his crayons at the least?”

Heejin shrugs, her eyes watching how Hyejoo’s light up when she shows Chaewon the picture of two scraggly figures and a yellow sun, “Hyejoo’s having fun with the crayons. And I’ll persuade her to give them back. She’ll return them before he even notices.”

And Heejin stays true to her word. Ten minutes before lunch recess ends, Heejin doesn’t even need to persuade Hyejoo to return his crayons, her gentle voice being enough, “It’s time to give his crayons back, Hyejoo.” Without even hesitating or debating with the hedonism tempting her on her shoulder, the girl slides his crayons back into his desk, the boy blissfully unaware of his crayons ever going missing.

“They’re just kids, Hyun. They haven’t been taught what being bad is. What Hyejoo and Chaewon know right now is good. There is nothing to worry over; they’re being curious and figuring things out and we shouldn’t control that for them.”

Hyunjin lets this incident slide, finding reason in Heejin’s justification.

When Hyejoo and Chaewon are older and enter into their first year of middle school, it’s the first time Hyunjin has difficulty in reconciling Heejin’s reasoning with her morals.

Hyejoo had punched a boy hard enough to make a tooth fall out, even laughed at how he cried from the pain while cradling her hurt knuckles in her hand.

“Heejin! Why didn’t you get her to stop? Violence is never the answer!”

“Sometimes, it is, Hyun.”

Clicking her tongue and frowning at Heejin, Hyunjin can’t believe the nonchalance she hears in Heejin’s voice.

“I don’t get you anymore, Heejin! You’ve been so different and I don’t understand why you’re letting Hyejoo hurt other people like this!”

Heejin doesn’t like how Hyunjin sounds. Accusatory, with the slightest bit of superiority, it makes her heart twist uncomfortably.

“What’s not to get, Hyunjin? Hyejoo was standing up for Chaewon. He pushed her hard enough to make her fall, Hyejoo punched him hard enough to make a tooth drop. Karma has its place in the world and you know that.”

Hyunjin turns away from her; it’s the first time she forsakes Heejin.

“It’s not right, Heejin. There are other ways. Ways that don’t include violence.”

Ignoring how the twisting in her heart clenches in overwhelming pain, Heejin negotiates, “Fine. If this happens again, I’ll get Hyejoo to stop. And if it keeps going, I’d let her unleash Hell if she wants to.”

Hyunjin gasps, affronted at hearing the Underworld being mentioned so easily, “You can’t do that! Our Creator wouldn’t be happy with that!”

Heejin rolls her eyes at the name, sick of hearing the reverence behind it, “I couldn’t give a about what He’s happy with. If Hyejoo wants to protect Chaewon, by all means, I won’t stop her.”

Unfathomably shocked at the new side of Heejin is showing, Hyunjin feels everything in her to stay away. But, Hyunjin knows better, knows that she would never forgive herself for letting Heejin stray away without using her best effort to keep her in God’s way.

“Please, Heejin. I’m not asking you to control her. Just please, keep her out of trouble.”

Smirking at Hyunjin in a way she is not familiar with, Heejin is noticeably prideful when she says, “I know what I’m doing, Hyunjin. Worry about Chaewon and I’ll worry about Hyejoo.”

(Hyunjin can’t help how she worries for the younger mortal, can’t help how she worries for Heejin.

She feels a certain tension building, isn’t ready for when everything will snap, doesn’t think she’ll ever be ready to let Heejin go.)

Luckily enough, there isn’t a next time for Hyejoo to protect Chaewon. As it turns out, a lost tooth is enough to scare the bullies away from messing with them again.

Heejin revels in the satisfaction of Hyejoo being able to protect the one she loves (and in the satisfaction Hyejoo feels for being able to stand up for her friend), feels a sense of victory at beating out the “all-holy” lecture of violence being unethical—as if threatening hell and eternal damnation isn’t a form of violence on its own.

~

When Hyejoo is sixteen, she gets her first kiss and it’s with the gentle girl in her Algebra 2 class named Yerim.

Being around Hyejoo her whole life and knowing her the most, Heejin knows the exact moment where Hyejoo fell for her. Endearingly enough, it was when Yerim had forgotten a pencil before their Algebra 2 test and smiled at Hyejoo asking to borrow one. (Hyejoo had given her her favorite mechanical pencil and didn’t even worry if the girl would ever return it, content with just giving her her prized pencil that had a fantastic eraser that got her through many difficult tests. As if Hyejoo didn’t already like her, Yerim returned it the next day, a snack attached to the pencil with a cute doodle of a wolf on the post-it note.)

When Hyejoo tells Chaewon about her new crush, the discomfort in Chaewon’s eyes shows Hyunjin’s influence, “Heejin, it’s wrong for her to talk about Yerim like this.”

Frowning at Hyunjin’s tone, Heejin feels her defenses start to rise (Heejin doesn’t know if it’s defenses for herself or for Hyejoo), “What’s wrong about it? All she’s saying is how pretty her smile is.”

“But, you know how she means it, Heejin. It’s wrong to think like this.”

It’s the second time Heejin feels the rift between her and Hyunjin tear away even further.

“What’s wrong about Hyejoo falling in love? It doesn’t matter if it’s with a girl. She, genuinely in her heart, likes her.”

Hyunjin flushes, unable to deal with her own curiosity and unanswered questions being brought to her conscious, “God said it’s wrong, Heejin! It’s sinful and it goes against what He says!”

If it weren’t for the disgust in Hyunjin’s voice, Heejin thinks she would have kept her rage in, wouldn’t have yelled, “Well,  what He says. Hyejoo is innocent in her own regard. She just likes a girl and that’s what makes her so sinful? That’s ing messed up.”

Hyunjin gets up and distances herself, her eyes cold and unwelcoming, “I don’t like how you’re talking to me, Heejin. And I don’t like what you’re saying about Him.”

Scoffing and feeling the desire to protect both Hyejoo and herself, Heejin gives into her own sense of hedonism, her voice dripping with a quiet and seething anger, “If you don’t like what I’m saying, Hyunjin, stay away from me. And make sure Chaewon doesn’t hurt Hyejoo. If she even hurts her the slightest bit, I don’t care that they’ve been best friends since birth, I’ll persuade Hyejoo to do what she must in order to protect herself. If I can help it, I won’t let Hyejoo become scared of loving someone. You’ll regret it, Hyunjin. Don’t forget this.”

The threat is clear. Hyunjin doesn’t even need to ask for clarification, doesn’t need another experience to know that Heejin has changed into someone that she could no longer guide, could no longer agree with.

She didn’t have to let her go if Heejin left her.

It doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

~

Hyunjin didn’t need another experience, but she ends up getting one that gives her a whiplash of truth that she didn’t want and could never prepare herself for.

And it all starts with Hyejoo kissing Yerim at a party. It had felt comfortable for her—Yerim under her arm and snuggled into her embrace, Chaewon right next to her. She wanted to kiss Yerim because the timing felt right, because her heart couldn’t take the anxiety of waiting anymore. Tilting her chin up and asking for permission and being granted it, kissing her felt like heaven—like everything good Hyejoo could never dream up. It ends with Chaewon spewing hate from her lips at the guidance of Hyunjin’s words and Hyejoo leaving the party in a desperate attempt to run away from the fear and insecurity, even if she could never run from the pain poisoning in her heart.

Hyejoo doesn’t want to un