It was always a matter of when.

Not how, not maybe, not even if.

It was a matter of when, and of who.

The first time Bomi had softly cupped Chorong's cheeks and softly pressed their lips together, Chorong could have cried. Because that kiss hurt, it pierced her heart, but in a good way. Bomi had pulled away after three agonising seconds, thumbs brushing her cheekbones softly as she smiled, and she had walked away. Just like that.

And maybe Chorong understood why. Because there was a lot of bravery in that kindness; because they would hurt each other if they got too close too fast. That's why she only waited a week before cornering Bomi before rehearsals and kissing her cheek before softly joining their lips for the bitterest four seconds. They tasted bitter because it was stolen, because it was wrong, because it wasn't enough. Too little was too much for them now.

But Bomi got tired of slow. They had won first place in a music show, so Bomi pulled Chorong into her own room when they reached the dorms and bruised her lips with a kiss. They stumbled with the nightstand and tripped with the carpet while Bomi held Chorong's face between her hands and Chorong held onto her hips, their lips never parting. Across the room they fell sitting onto one of the unmade and messy beds, probably not even Bomi's bed, but Bomi never noticed it as Chorong climbed onto her lap and they continued their kissing. It wasn't a romantic place or time to have their first real kiss, nor were the circumstances, and the desperation was seeping from every gesture; the way Bomi would pull herself up while Chorong would arch her back to have their bodies pressing together as much as they could, or how Bomi couldn't keep her hands in one place, moving them over Chorong's back and legs, back and forth. Chorong was bruising their lips with the force of their kiss, her hands Bomi's face and cupping her neck over and over, their breathing erratic through their noses. It wasn't romantic, but they couldn't seem to stop. Stopping and thinking would be bad, maybe. Then words would come, and with them the chance of that bitterness seeping in once more, and they couldn't allow that, not when the kisses felt so right, for the first time. Even though they were wrong.

Chorong felt like she should have been there all along, in the right place, in the right arms. She knew right away, as soon as they fell onto that bed, that she was made to be held by gentle arms, kissed by soft lips, that the feelings Bomi's hands created as they roamed over her back were what she was supposed to feel all along, instead of the light chill and stiffness she felt with boys. And she knew, as Bomi bit her lower lip and pulled gently, sneaking her hands beneath her shirt to touch her skin, that she couldn't go back. Her breath hitched in .

"I only want to feel you, I promise." Bomi mumbled against her wet lips, with a voice so rough and husky Chorong felt like she could melt.

She nodded, slowly moving her hands to the back of Bomi's neck, treading the tips of her fingers with soft little brunette hairs.

Bomi shivered lightly, inching forward to join their lips together again. Chorong's heart was pounding so hard that Bomi could feel it against her hands on Chorong's upper back. She marvelled at the softness, the way she could simultaneously feel Chorong's spine and the muscles of her back twitching slightly. She rounded her hands on her hips, to her stomach, and they stayed there, fingers softly as they kissed, feeling Chorong's skin erupt in goose bumps and her warm breath hit her moist lips when they stopped their kisses to regain breath.

"We will figure out a way." Chorong whispered against her cheek. Like a silent pact, an understanding, Bomi nodded.

"We will figure out a way." She echoed.

Chorong curled herself on Bomi's lap, her head on the crook of a warm neck, lips against her soft skin. Bomi wrapped her arms around her middle, one hand sneaking beneath her shirt once more, palm resting against her back. Chorong brought one hand up to feel Bomi's heart beating against her palm and smiled.

They still couldn't say it, although they thought about it. But words at that time wouldn't make things better; they would only make it bitter. It wasn't time, yet. Things were still tainted with fear. Their hearts could take a little more time, but not a lot more of hurt.

Even though there was a chance that things wouldn't work out, that they ended up breaking each other's hearts, it was now too late. Bomi held Chorong's heart and could no longer hold on onto her own. And later that night, as Chorong heard the door of her room crack open, her heart swelled. She sat up in bed with her back against the pillow, sleepily opening her eyes, waiting for Bomi to appear in the doorframe.

Bomi walked into the bedroom, an inevitable smile blossoming on their faces at the sight of each other. The Seoul traffic was still heard through the window, even at one a.m., as Bomi snuck under the covers to hold her lover close. Bomi treaded her fingers softly, sleepily, through Chorong's hair, smiling as her heart beat strongly. They had to be hard and strong to break through the odds and their own ghosts, and they were. But in these seconds, they were free. Bomi knew it as soon as Chorong lifted her head to peck her lips and then rested her ear on her chest, tapping the rhythm of Bomi's heart.

Finally, it was time.