They kissed. It was just a short peck - Heejin was too tired to even remember, but Hyunjin couldn’t get it out of her head. It was just a usual night. They were both tired after training and in usual Heejin fashion, she said a short goodnight to Hyunjin before climbing up the ladder to her bunk. 

Hyunjin didn’t know what it was, had some unnameable feeling bubbling up in her chest for a while. And that feeling somehow translated into her moving her cheek as Heejin jokingly kissed her goodnight, her lips touching Heejin’s for a fraction of a second. It was warm, and soft, and everything. But nothing to Heejin. No, Heejin didn’t even seem to notice that Hyunjin’s entire world had shifted, mumbling a final goodnight and flopping into her bed, eyes closing immediately. 

“I love you, Hyunjin,” Heejin mumbled into her pillow. Like she hadn't even planned for Hyunjin to hear. Maybe she didn’t. 

Hyunjin lay in her bed for what felt like hours trying to piece it all together. What was this feeling in her chest? Why did it feel like something was bursting inside of her? Why did she want to scream? 

Everything made sense and yet nothing did. She had her suspicions as to why she felt differently towards Heejin, but she thought it was just because Heejin was a little older or simply because of that inexplicable admiration again. And ‘I love you’? So suddenly?

Hyunjin didn't understand it, not at all, not when she pressed her fingers against her lips trying to relive the momentary kiss they’d shared, not when she let out a whispered “I love you too, Heejin” in response. 

Maybe she wasn't meant to understand. 

They kissed again. And again. Sometimes when Heejin was drunk, too tipsy to control her actions yet still sober enough to break Hyunjin's heart with how little she seemed to care.

As always, the day after Hyunjin found herself looking for any sign that things had changed.

Hyunjin looked at Heejin, trying to see any differences in the other girl. She expected shame, maybe Heejin’s brown eyes connecting with Hyunjin’s, pleading with her not to mention what happened in order to not have to deal with questions of her uality or how she felt about Hyunjin. But she saw nothing like that. She didn’t see Heejin’s knuckles whiten from clenching her phone, saw no tenseness in her movements. She heard no falseness in her voice when Heejin laughed at whatever she was scrolling through. It was like nothing had happened the night before.

Hyunjin, in her haze of confusion after a night of drinking, decided that it didn’t happen. It was probably just a dream. Of course, Heejin would never kiss her like that. She was an idiot for thinking that'd happened. But it seemed so real.

Hyunjin started on her morning routine - brushing her teeth, checking her phone, other boring things - until she caught a glimpse of herself. Looking into the mirror of the vanity, she saw things that proved last night couldn’t have been a dream. First was the smudge of Heejin’s lipstick, a colour Hyunjin didn’t wear, against her kiss-swollen lips. It mixed with Hyunjin’s own lipstick, making a shade of dark pink that made Hyunjin’s heart flutter against her ribcage because of how uniquely them it was. Looking down, she saw hints of the lipstick on her neck and lower still. 

Hyunjin felt her cheeks warm as they pinkened at the memory of how Heejin kissed her, how Hyunjin couldn’t do much except for keep deathly still (for fear that too much movement would cause her to stop). Like the pink of her cheeks, a similar pigment coloured her stomach (and back too probably, considering how badly it ached), reminders of Heejin’s nails scratching her skin. She shuddered at the memory of how it felt before risking a glance at Heejin.

Hyunjin didn’t turn around, merely looking at the mirror at an angle where Heejin was visible. Now that she had evidence that last night did in fact happen, she wondered why it was so easy to Heejin to pretend that nothing happened when to Hyunjin it felt like everything had. Maybe she didn’t remember (she really was very drunk last night, having downed several shots of something strong the second they entered the party) or maybe it just didn’t matter as much to her as it did to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s heart ached at the thought that all she'd felt wasn’t reciprocated. That even though it meant the world to her, it meant nothing to Heejin. She felt dirty, nothing more than a secret to be kept. She knew love wasn’t supposed to feel like this, but unfortunately that’s all it could be.

Things went on like this even after their debut. 

One part of Hyunjin was delighted, because having Heejin for those small moments made her heart swoon in her chest, made her mind-numbingly happy. Another screamed at her for being such a fool, for allowing herself to be used, for never asking Heejin if she felt anything towards Hyunjin more than the occasional desire that inevitably led to their entanglements.

Haseul and Vivi had to have known but neither said anything. Hyunjin could have sworn that when Haseul locked eyes with her after seeing Heejin waking up and going to her own bed Haseul looked sad for her, but that look could have meant anything. Maybe Hyunjin just wanted someone to feel bad for her, wanted someone to see how much she was hurting and actually care. Presumably, Heejin also saw how much she was hurting - she had to see how distraught Hyunjin was every time she didn’t say a word - and yet Heejin didn’t ever change.

There’s something uniquely romantic about unrequited love. You love them not because you get anything in return - besides pain, that is - but just because you do. Hyunjin wonders to herself if that makes her love for Heejin pure, and if so, why she feels so disgusting.

Haseul and Vivi are getting worried about her, their observant natures picking up on her difference in attitude almost immediately. How she talks a little less, laughs quieter, smiles smaller.

It’s really nothing to worry about. Hyunjin just feels more tired these days - emotionally and physically. It’s easy to blame their now-busy schedules. She hardly says a word to the other girls before entering her room, wanting to spend the days alone in silence.

After days of replying that she’s fine to their prying questions, she simply lets herself cry. Haseul was surprisingly helpful - letting her talk for hours about it all.

Of course, she changed Heejin’s name to a male name, referred to her with “he”. 

It’s not that she doesn’t trust Haseul (actually she would trust her with her life) or that she’s particularly ashamed of her love of Heejin. It’s only because she wanted to keep it a secret for Heejin, sure that their romance - if she could even call it that - would be a source of shame for the older girl. At least, that’s how she made Hyunjin feel. Unwanted. 

She admits as much to Haseul, explaining how disgusting she felt for letting herself be used but still succumbing the next time. She explains how much it ached to wake up alone, nothing different in her bunk except for Heejin’s lingering perfume - changed to “cologne” when she said it - and the memories of how it felt.

Haseul wiped away Hyunjin’s tears tenderly, letting Hyunjin lean on her shoulder as her sobs turned into silence. “I want to stop - stop loving him and move on - but it’s not that easy. He makes it impossible not to love him. He makes it impossible for me to imagine a future without him.” A summer wedding on the beach. A spring wedding in a little church. Anything would be perfect as long as it was Heejin by her side. But that would obviously never happen.  “He- he doesn’t feel the same way,” she states, “he never will.”

Haseul’s hand on her back stops its soothing circular motions for a moment before resuming again. Hyunjin can hear Haseul’s heartbeat quicken, her breathing falter, like she’s holding herself back from speaking. Hyunjin looks up and sees an exhausted smile on her face. 

“You okay?” Hyunjin asks. Haseul moves her head so her hair falls in front of her eyes, a thing she always does so her tears aren’t visible. “Oh, Haseul--” They switch roles, now Hyunjin collects Haseul into her arms to comfort her. 

“It’s just-” she falters, wincing at how her teary voice sounds -”oh, God. I’m so sorry.” Haseul starts to laugh, wiping at her tears with her sleeve. “I didn’t mean to make this about me.” Her smile gets wider but it still doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“Tell me anyway.”

“It’s just, I-I can relate sort of.” Haseul sighs. Her eyes are no longer looking at Hyunjin, instead looking all around to avoid Hyunjin’s searching eyes. “It really , Hyun.”

“But we do it anyway.”

“We love them anyway.”

They spend the rest of the night talking about their respective loves. Although their circumstances are wholly different, the feelings of heart-wrenching desire are all the same, and it feels good to talk about it. Letting it all out, the frustrations as well as the good moments, was healing in a way. 

She found someone who sympathised with how she felt, who nodded and related when she spoke of how it hurt, and who shared her sad smiles when she spoke of the few good moments when she allowed herself to pretend it was real. 

The days where she woke up before Heejin, with the older girl still in her arms. Sometimes she’d let herself stare at her, how the sunrays perfectly illuminated each crevice of her lovely face, how was ever so slightly open. Sometimes Hyunjin would pretend that they were actually together. But when Heejin woke up she would immediately return to her own bed and that illusion shattered just like Hyunjin’s heart. 

“Some lucky days I wake up before he gets up and leaves me all alone. He looks like an angel when he’s asleep, all the stress is gone and he looks so much younger. Sometimes, I hold him closer and pretend he doesn’t want to leave.”

Haseul shared her own stories too. Hyunjin tried not to think of how familiar they sounded, as if she knew exactly who it was. She talks of feeling like her heart is going to explode, how it feels like her lungs might explode too if she doesn’t yell her love aloud. She talks of crying silently in her room inconsolably, her only solace imagining a perfect future with a person she can’t have. She speaks so fragilely of a loneliness and pain they both know - and it’s so real that Hyunjin’s holding back tears. She talks of feeling ruined, of wondering if her love had any idea that Haseul was suffering because of them. 

Hyunjin doesn’t overlook her choice of words. She pays attention to each “them”, how she hesitates as if searching for the words. Haseul slips up once, “She’s just so-” before she freezes up, her eyes wide with shock. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin falters. “It’s fine.” 

‘I’m talking about a girl too.’ is what Hyunjin wants to say, but she thinks it might be too much information at once. 

In the following days, Hyunjin decides not to ask Haseul about why her gaze lingers on Vivi when they dance. She decides that it’s none of her business why Haseul laughs a little harder at Vivi’s jokes, why Haseul blushes more at Vivi’s compliments. Unless Haseul tells her herself, she’ll keep her observations to herself. She can only imagine how embarrassing it would be if she came up to her knowing she was talking about Heejin the entire time.