Seungwan gets dumped.

In the middle of her midterms week, running on two hours of sleep everyday and a community visit evaluation creeping at the end of it, Seungwan gets dumped.

In the university courtyard, no less.

As far as Seungwan is concerned, there are different kinds of breakups. There is a happy breakup, as weird as that sounds—because why the hell would breaking up with someone be happy? Seungwan thinks she is not yet mature enough to understand that, but believes that she will one day.

There is also a sad breakup, quite common for the passionate youth, when one thinks they have found the love of their lives but they just pass by like a chapter in a book.

And then there is her breakup.

A complete and utter mess at the same time not. She just stands there with blankly blinking eyes and clutched textbooks in her arms. Nothing sinks into her brain the moment it happens, not even an ounce of worry, or a sharp sting to the chest. 

Nothing, except for the fact that she really needs to get home as soon as possible. Right now. Pronto. She still has an exam tomorrow morning and she still hasn’t read through her notes yet.

So when her boyfriend—well, now ex-boyfriend breaks up with her in the middle of the university courtyard, Seungwan doesn’t understand why she only nods at him, curt, before speeding off to her dorm.

No tears, no questions asked. She just straight up tells him, “Okay,” and then leaves. 

Actually, she thinks she might have even confused the guy.

She hears a rattled “Wait, Seungwan!” from the male behind her, but she doesn’t stick around to listen any longer.

 

-

 

Chanyeol must be mad for breaking up with Seungwan in the middle of her midterms. 

Of course she wouldn’t be able to react the way he wanted her to. Not only is she super stressed about her already-hellish week, he also knows she wouldn’t be in the right headspace to process any information outside of her lessons. They have been together long enough for him to know this about her—how she will literally set everything aside for her studies.

He is still texting her even to the moment she arrives in her dorm. Multiple pings on the phone in her pocket that read Wendy? Can we talk about it properly? or perhaps You left so suddenly, aren’t you even upset?

Seungwan thinks she would find time to grieve over the one-year relationship after her midterms end. There is always time.

Her roommate is lying down on her bed when she gets into the shared accommodation, a pocket book in hand raised nearly perpendicular above her face and her earphones plugged in.

Seungwan wonders if the girl’s arms get weary in that position. She also knows that one shouldn’t be reading while lying down.

She takes off her shoes before the threshold and sets them on the rack before entering.

“Hi,” she greets as she steps further into the average-sized room.

The girl on the bed, who surprisingly hears it despite the earphones on, only gives Seungwan a small smile in between her outstretched arms.

Seungwan finds it oddly entertaining. Her roommate has always been like that—calm and reserved yet strangely interesting when it comes to her little quirks and behavior. Sometimes Seungwan even wakes up to the girl doing a split face-down on the space between their beds, a shriek caught in in surprise, until she realizes that the blob of brunette hair is just her roommate sleeping and not a giant, hairy spider.

“Hello,” the girl responds in a tiny voice, characteristic of her. 

Seungwan likes how soft-spoken her roommate is. As someone who needs utmost concentration while studying for her tests, the last thing she needs is a rambunctious roommate who comes home drunk nearly every night and plays EDM on loudspeaker.

Although Seungwan knows her roommate loves EDM just as much —

“What’s wrong with EDM?” The girl had looked at Seungwan with a crease between her furrowed brows while they had breakfast in the kitchenette. “I like EDM.” 

At least her roommate has the decency to listen to it with her wired earphones. Which is adorable, by the way, considering everyone else has ditched the cables for Bluetooth ones.

Seungwan likes her roommate. They live peacefully together.

“You know, it’s bad for your eyes when you read like that,” Seungwan can’t help but tell the girl as she walks to the bed just across hers. “You should value your eyesight.”

“It’s already progressively deteriorating anyways.” There is a soft snort of some sort from the other. Seungwan just sighs as she places her books on the wide desk that sits between their beds.

“Still. You might end up regretting it when you’re older.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“Is that necessarily a bad thing?”

“Um.” Her roommate’s bed creaks with her movement as she pulls herself to a sit, legs dangling off the side of the furniture. “Point taken.”

Seungwan chuckles, amused, before setting up her laptop on the same desk and tying her hair into a quick bun.

“Have you been here for a while already?” she asks without sparing a glance at the girl, moving around to prepare her materials while keeping a casual conversation in the air. After all, introverts also need to socialize every now and then.

“About a couple of hours.”

Seungwan starts walking to the kitchenette just beside the door as her stomach grumbles for some food. She had missed her lunch today because she used up the time to review for her next exam instead. It was unhealthy, but at least she was surer of her answers.

“Is that so?” She opens a cupboard and takes out packets of spicy ramyun. “Do you want one of these?” she makes sure to ask from the open space of the small kitchen, raising the red packet where her roommate can see.

The girl squints at it, before deciding it is better off that she joins Seungwan in the kitchenette with light footsteps on the carpeted floor.

She just hangs by the framing though, a hollow door frame next to where the threshold meets the elevated livable space of their room, and crosses her arms.

“Junk food is bad for the brain,” her roommate tells her, as if she doesn’t know that already.

Seungwan rolls her eyes as she grabs a cooking pot from the rack.

“Well, it’s a good thing this is Korean food then.” She grins cheekily, watches as the girl in front of her scoffs lightly in amusement before shrugging it away.

“I’ll have one then, if you don’t mind.”

Seungwan doesn’t waste time pouring water into the pot and turning on the stove. She is already famished and she also shouldn’t disappoint now that her roommate is actually waiting on her.

Turning away from the girl, she focuses herself on her task.

“Right away, ma’am!”

 

-

 

Joohyun, her roommate, is an absolute delight to be with. 

After a whole semester of pure chaos in her previous dorm, Seungwan had moved out because her roommate was everything she didn’t need—loud and annoying, an Engineering major who didn’t believe in studying at all; she believed her calculator alone could save her instead.

Joohyun, on the other hand, is not only super pretty (which had Seungwan stumbling over the threshold when she first moved into the vacancy, awkwardly chuckling when the woman just blinks at her from her bed in worry), but she also has the same dedication to her studies just as Seungwan does, being a Law student herself.

That’s why they often just spend their time sitting next to each other on their respective desks, faces buried in books and their laptops. Not too far apart to be distant, but also not too close to be touching.

Seungwan has already figured out from the first night that this is the kind of company she wants to coexist with. Joohyun is quiet, well-mannered, and doesn’t go out to drink often. That is comfortable for Seungwan. She likes it.

It must have been the same for Joohyun, because they have stretched quite comfortably for over a year now. This is already their third semester of being roommates, and they haven’t had any plans to move out. 

At least Seungwan doesn’t.

They eat their noodles in peace, the sounds of their occasional slurping and chewing filling the comfortable air.

Seungwan is actually enjoying the relatively peaceful silence. She needed the short break from all the stress. Joohyun is also good at being a neutral company; she just sits there and minds her own business.

Everything is going well, until it isn’t. Like an unexpected ocean wave with her back to the sea, it all comes crashing down on Seungwan. Everything she had put on hold earlier because she was still shaken up from her difficult exam, starts to sink into her brain.

“Holy ,” is what she breathes out after swallowing down her noodles. She sets down her bowl on top of her desk with a blank look on her face.

Joohyun stares at her, concerned.

“I just remembered… that my boyfriend dumped me,” Seungwan says after the silence. 

Her eyes immediately land on her phone on the far end of her desk at the realization, the device faced down and plugged to the charger. She hasn’t checked it at all since she came home.

Joohyun obviously finds her reaction—or the lack thereof—concerning, because the girl immediately sets aside her own bowl and sits properly to face her sideways, hands on her lap and a worried look on her face.

“And?” Joohyun prompts, still soft and gentle but curious. “Are you okay?” she asks carefully.

Is she okay? Seungwan doesn’t know either. She doesn’t know yet. Whenever she starts to think about the situation she can’t help but remember how she still has modules and modules of things to get through or else she would be flunking her exams.

She can’t flunk and be heartbroken at the same time, can she?

Seungwan has always been a serious person all throughout, Joohyun knows this. From her studies, to the way she organizes her things on her side of the room, and most importantly to her relationships. She just lives her life simply—never taking things for granted, nor purposely complicating things for herself. She lives by rules and the upright.

Meanwhile, Joohyun is probably the complete opposite of her. Seungwan has long figured out that the girl might be kind of queer, and a little noncommittal in her own way. After all, the Law student just spends her free time playing games or finally texting back one of the many people blowing up her notifications, only to get bored of them. She lives by sudden bursts of energy and what makes her tick.

Seungwan understands that they have contrasting ideologies and principles in approaching life. Not that it’s bad or anything, she just thinks it’s entertaining how Joohyun sometimes tiptoes around things in consideration of her; how Joohyun seems to treat her like a fragile ornament being shipped in an unprotected box.

That’s why the look on her face right now is comical—furrowed brows and a worried frown, because something is telling Seungwan that Joohyun thinks she is completely devastated about the ordeal.

If they had been the touchy-type kind of roommates, she’s sure Joohyun would have pulled her into a hug already with how she is wringing her hands on her lap.

“I don’t know what I feel, honestly,” Seungwan confesses, although it doesn’t sound sad nor happy. It’s just the plain truth. She doesn’t know what she feels yet.

“Are you…” Joohyun seems to be struggling over her words, giving her a careful gaze. “Do you feel like crying?”

“What?” Seungwan can’t help but chuckle.

“I don’t know… aren’t you sad at all?”

“Are you preparing yourself just in case I cry?”

Joohyun looks like a deer caught in the headlights, and averts her gaze to make it less awkward.

Seungwan smiles in amusement at her roommate and decides to have a little fun with her. 

“What are you gonna do if I do cry, then?” she asks, a little bit teasingly with a small smile on her face.

“I’m going to… leave the room, honestly.” Joohyun doesn’t even try to be coy about it. “Let you mourn over your relationship. Cry it out, yell, scream or something. You do know that long-term relationships still have a chance of getting back together after a breakup, right?” Seungwan doesn’t even know what she’s talking about now. “I know my opinion is unwarranted, but I don’t think you should take it seriously yet. You’re both probably stressed because of midterms week, that’s why he did that to you.”

“He’s a Bio major.” Seungwan bites back her amusement when Joohyun backpedals on the information, obviously not having included that in her calculations. “He’s not that stressed, to be honest.”

“Oh.” 

Joohyun’s face scrunches a little too adorably, dropping her gaze to her lap. 

But she tries again. “Then, um, maybe he’s just giving you time to focus on your exams? You know some people do that out of consideration for their partners. I would, too, if—”

Seungwan snorts unintentionally at that, waving her hand as she laughs. It is so funny hearing Joohyun talk about relationships like she’s ever been in a serious one. The girl is probably one of the few genuinely noncommittal people Seungwan knows.

“Stop… stop it already, unnie. God, you’re horrible at this,” she giggles.

“What? I’m being serious.” Joohyun furrows her brows with a frown, serious.

“And I’m alright,” Seungwan reassures with a smile at the other girl. For now, she wants to say. Everyone should already know by now that she has quite the habit of saving her emotions for a later date. It is unhealthy, but she has got priorities. “Don’t worry, Joohyun unnie. Thank you though. Seeing you try was uplifting.”

Joohyun’s face twists. 

“Please do not ridicule me,” she says, lighthearted, as Seungwan starts to clean up her desk, dropping her spoon and chopsticks straight into her bowl with audible clinks.

“I’m not.” Seungwan laughs, getting out of her seat with the dishes in hand. “I’m genuinely amused.”

“You think it’s amusing that I don’t know how to comfort people?”

“Uh… yes. You’re so awkward.”

“That just makes it even more rewarding that I tried.”

“Exactly!” Seungwan chirps as she starts to walk away from the girl and into the kitchenette, where she dumps her dishes in the sink. “Don’t worry though! I’m sure you’ll learn a thing or two by just being my roommate.”

Now it is Joohyun who laughs by the time she is back, her turn to clean up her dishes with careful hands.

“You’re one to talk,” the older girl teases as she gets up from her seat. Seungwan sits herself on her desk again to prepare for studying. “You don’t know how to process your emotions either. Anyone I know would be crying right now, but it took you a bowl of noodles to remember that your boyfriend broke up with you.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Seungwan corrects despite the slight discomfort she feels after saying it so casually. “And everyone has their own way of grieving!”

Joohyun now laughs as she moves away, and Seungwan has always known that her roommate’s laugh was a sound of utter joy—loud and uninhibited, genuine and contagiously funny. She can’t help but chuckle along to it, shaking her head to herself as she flips her Physiology textbook open.

“Whatever you say, roomie,” she hears Joohyun singsong from the kitchenette along with the water running and the dishes getting washed.

Yeah, everybody has their own way of grieving. Some of them cry for days on end, some go out and distract themselves from the pain. Everyone is entitled to their own way of facing pain.

Seungwan wonders if talking with her entertaining (even when she’s not trying to be) roommate counts as such.

 

-

 

The community visit evaluation at the end of her midterms served as the paradoxical end to Seungwan’s one-week misery.

Because it would mean the conclusion to all her sleepless nights and missed meals. When it ends, she can finally go out and eat some real food. She can relax and recuperate herself after all of that damage.

Yet on the other side, it would mean half a day of being on her feet, walking around the assigned community to do basic check-ups and recording everything for later reporting to her professors.

It would also mean dealing with those feelings she had stubbornly set aside the entire week for the sake of her exams. She hasn’t replied to Chanyeol at all since the day he dumped her. He has probably rang her phone up a hundred times on that day alone, making Joohyun grumble in annoyance during her sleep and Seungwan squeak out her apologies while she turns them off.

She doesn’t know what that guy is up to either, since she does a social media cleanse every time during exams. The people who have heard about the breakup are already starting to talk though, most probably because her ex knows a lot of people in the university. She just doesn’t listen to the chatter whenever it comes. 

She only needs to get through this evaluation first, she thinks to herself, smiling kindly at the elderly in the community who approach her for their vital signs, and keeping up her joyful composure despite it all.

It seems to be extra hot outside today, the sun almost at its highest peak as the clock braves further into the noontime hours. She is sweating so hard under her white coat, fanning herself with her clipboard when she has no one to attend to.

Eventually, it ends, with a collective sigh and groans of, “Finally!” from her fellow classmates. Seungwan nearly cries in glee when she is finally allowed to take off her white coat in the blazing heat, letting out a heavy sigh of relief when she is rid of the burdensome material.

“Seungwan!”

Seungwan turns around at the call to find her classmate, Jongin, jogging up to her. 

Jongin is an easygoing guy. Having shared a few classes with him, Seungwan can safely say she trusts this man not to say anything dumb in her vicinity. Considering how uptight she comes off during their small group discussions, Jongin should know that Seungwan has one of the least tolerance for bull.

The catch is that Jongin is one of Chanyeol’s closest friends in university. In fact, this mutual friendship of the males is the reason why Seungwan was able to build one with him as well. Now that they have broken up, Jongin’s presence only continues to remind Seungwan of her actual problem.

She’s not sure if she is sporting an uncomfortable smile on her face by the time he stops in front of her.

“Why do you look like that?”

So she is.

“What do you need?” Seungwan asks him, direct but polite, with a smile.

“I heard about the—”

“Whew, okay. I don’t want to talk about that,” she cuts him off swiftly before he could even mention it, turning around with a shake of her head.

“I meant the exam results,” Jongin says, probably just to make her stay and talk, but it works on Seungwan nonetheless.

“They’re out?!” Seungwan stares at him with wide eyes. She didn’t expect them to finish checking the papers so early! It usually took the faculty a week or two to get their scores out.

“Where can I see them?” she asks pleadingly.

“Chanyeol wants to talk to you.”

Seungwan’s look of interest immediately drops to a bemused frown.

“I should’ve known you were going to say this. I’m leaving—”

“Seungwan, come on…”

“Jongin, he dumped me. That’s it. I don’t understand why he still wants to talk.”

“That’s the thing! He doesn’t know if you’ve truly broken up because he said you just left!”

“What was I supposed to do? Cry in front of him?” Seungwan raises an eyebrow incredulously at the male in front of her, who just shyly cowers at her intense gaze with a rub of his hand on his nape. “I’m done talking about this. If you see him, tell him I heard him right the first time.”

“Wait, Seungwan!”

Screw her patience for friends and acquaintances really, because she should already be having some quality time for herself right now, but instead she is still listening to Jongin.

“I don’t know if you want to hear this but… I heard he got wasted last night and made out with some girl in the club.”

No matter how much she tries not to let it, the information actually stirs Seungwan. Despite her indifference at their sudden breakup and her practically ghosting him, she had wanted to believe he’d have the decency not to go around and faces not even a week into their parting.

Their relationship did last for a while. She would have wanted the respect, at least.

Noticing how the male in front of her seems to grow more and more doubtful if he did the right thing telling her, Seungwan gives him a genuine smile as reassurance. 

“Thanks, Jongin,” she tells the man gently. “Now I know.”

Everything she has suppressed for the past week is starting to take its toll in her heart. It brews—unpleasant and heavy feelings that start to concentrate and settle in the middle of her chest. She should leave before they come crashing down again. 

She is about to leave once and for all when suddenly, Jongin still has one more thing to say.

“Seungwan—”

She groans in frustration. 

“For the last time, Jongin, what is it?”

He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, a shy smile on his face and pink ears. This can’t be good.

“Does this mean we can’t go on that double date with your friend Seulgi anymore?” he asks, carefully, and it actually makes Seungwan stifle a loud laugh.

“I have told you several times already, Jongin.” Seungwan lets loose a giggle at his face, pinkish and embarrassed, before continuing.

“Seulgi does not swing your way.”

 

-

 

Seungwan eats lunch in her favorite European restaurant, dessert in her mom’s favorite dessert restaurant, and even gets her favorite Gong Cha order in large.

Everything is going back to its rightful place. Nature is healing.

Yet she probably overestimated herself way too much in dealing with heartbreak. When she comes home to a half-occupied dorm room with Joohyun lounging on her bed, she doesn’t even notice the girl giving her a short wave in greeting.

Her chest stings, like a painful reminder of why she should’ve stopped doing these things the moment she realized they didn’t make things better, but worse. Because bottling them up, pretending they aren’t already leaking from the jar of her emotional quota, just makes them burst one way or another.

Joohyun stands dumbfounded on her side of the room when Seungwan breaks down crying, hot tears falling down her cheeks incessantly while she takes off her bag. She even has the time to fold her white coat neatly even through her little hiccups, and if Seungwan hadn’t seen the unmistakable figure of her roommate in her peripheral vision, she would have assumed that the girl did leave the dorm like she said she would.

Joohyun is silent through it all, perhaps too silent, as Seungwan slips into her covers and continues crying. Seungwan doesn’t blame her. She already knows Joohyun wouldn’t know what to do anyways.

Yet she can’t tell the girl anything because sobs and hiccups have replaced the words that she was supposed to say. She tries to communicate with her eyes, but endless tears just continue to rush out of them, panicking Joohyun even more.

“I—I…” Joohyun tries. The girl tries so hard that it almost makes Seungwan laugh through her tears, but she only cries harder because why can’t she laugh?

Seungwan just decides to spare her the agony and roll over to the other side of her bed, her back facing the girl. She is not that cruel to drag anyone else into her issues.

In fact, she thinks it all comes down to her why she is suffering this much.

 

-

 

When Seungwan wakes up from her nap – and she didn’t even notice she had fallen asleep from crying – Joohyun is still inside the room, scrolling through her cellphone while sitting on her own bed.

The girl jumps in shock when Seungwan decides to give her joints a little stretch, anxiety drenching her face a second later like she doesn’t even try to hide her fear of comforting someone.

Seungwan takes it easy on her.

“Please don’t look so scared,” she says with stuffed nostrils and a croaky voice, sitting up. “You look like someone just kicked your puppy.”

“I don’t… have a puppy?”

“Unnie, it’s an expression.”

Seungwan yawns and wipes her drying eyes while Joohyun thinks over the said expression. She has the same confused look on her face consisting of furrowed brows and a slight pout on her lips. Cute.

“How long was I out?” Seungwan asks after she was finished.

“Not too long. A couple of hours, maybe.”

“And you were just sitting there the entire time?”

“You make it sound like I don’t do this for longer.”

Seungwan chuckles. “Point taken. Maybe I just assumed you would leave like you said you would,” she teases lightheartedly, to which Joohyun just snorts at.

At least there is someone who isn’t looking at her with pity, annoying curiosity, or in some cases, even glee. At least Joohyun reminds her that not everything is about her past relationship.

“As fiddly as I am with it, I do have a heart, Son Seungwan,” Joohyun says, a toothy grin on her lips that reaches her eyes. 

It is charming and attractive, perfect set of teeth adorning full red lips crookedly, along with that characteristic wink Seungwan has noticed that they both do while smiling. No wonder why she has someone blowing up her social media every two minutes. It isn’t a secret that Joohyun is beautiful and magnetizing. Seungwan just never really looked at her that way since she was too busy thinking Chanyeol could be the one she’d introduce to her parents.

“You should show it more often then,” Seungwan teases her with a grin of her own, feeling lighter after her crying session and her nap. There is still hurt left in her chest through all of it. After all, a breakup is a breakup.

“Yeah, I should probably work on that.” Joohyun chuckles airily. Seungwan just smiles at that as she rolls out of bed and stretches out her bones.

Despite their lighthearted conversation, Seungwan still feels as though there is something else in the air. Something tense and curious, on Joohyun’s end.

She doesn’t mind Joohyun’s curiosity though. It is much different compared to the ones outside of their dorm room.

Finally, after a moment of silence, Joohyun breaks it.

“Did you see him earlier?” is her question, and it surprises Seungwan slightly. Most people would ask simple, vague questions like, “What happened?” or “Is everything okay?”

She just didn’t expect Joohyun to ask that, out of all questions.

“No,” she answers anyway, sitting on her bed right across Joohyun who is also sitting on her own. “Why do you ask?”

“I just thought you did. That breakdown earlier didn’t seem normal.”

Seungwan snorts with a roll of her eyes. “What do you know about normal?”

“Why do you always think I’m not perceptive?” Joohyun raises an eyebrow. “I’m awkward, Seungwan, not dumb.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” She is, after all, a Law student. “What do you perceive then?”

“That you need comfort,” Joohyun answers.

Seungwan leans on her palms on the bed.

“Well, are you going to give it to me?” 

“No, but I can always try at distraction.”

“I admire how honest you are.” Seungwan can’t help but laugh. “What are you gonna do? Are you gonna dance for me?” she asks.

Joohyun gives her a death glare and a frown in response, and Seungwan stifles a laugh.

“I’m guessing that’s a no.”

“It’s a no because I’d worry for you if I did.”

“Oh?” Seungwan’s brow shoots up, mirroring Joohyun’s favorite move. “Now you’ve got my attention.”

“Well, get rid of it, because it’s not happening.”

“Bummer.” Seungwan rolls her eyes as she straightens back up again. “What’s the point of this conversation again?”

“Do you… perhaps… want to play a game?”

Seungwan stares at Joohyun.

She doesn’t seem to be joking.

“A game?” she clarifies.

“Yeah, a card game.” Joohyun nods, as if the question doesn’t sound random at all. Seungwan hasn’t played games since she grew up, and she grew up a long time ago when she went abroad to study there until high school.

“Is this your definition of comfort?” she can’t help but ask.

“I told you, this is a distraction.”

Seungwan thinks there is really nothing wrong with it. Joohyun only has the best intentions, judging by her brute honesty since day one, along with that innocent look on her face that seems to look determined. Determined to make her say yes? Probably.

In some roundabout way, Seungwan understands that this is Joohyun’s way of trying at comfort, although she disguises it as a method of “distraction” just in case it doesn’t work.

But honestly, Seungwan needs it, no matter what it is. The longer the silences are, the more she starts to think back to the circumstances that have made them so unbearable.

So she gives Joohyun a firm nod, deciding that this is a win-win situation. She could have fun, whatever the game is, and she would also grow closer with her roommate.

 

-

 

Someone should have told Seungwan not to play card games with a Law student. They have insane skills when it comes to reading people, body language, and practically everything.

Actually, someone should have told Seungwan not to play a card game of concentration with a Law student.

Joohyun memorizes everything faster than Seungwan could even remember what she ate that morning.

The girl flips the last pair of cards perfectly once again, totaling her count to 38 pairs while Seungwan only had 14. It is ridiculous. How is she supposed to memorize two decks of cards?

“Sorry,” Joohyun apologizes in her small voice and a careful smile, sincere instead of taunting.

“This is unfair,” Seungwan complains childishly with a pout as Joohyun rounds the cards once more to pool them at her side. They are on the carpeted floor, on the mat Joohyun sometimes sleeps on. “This doesn’t make sense! How are you so good at this?!”

“Because, um… I just am?”

Joohyun is now grinning cheekily at her, and Seungwan is once again reminded of how this girl literally gets people falling at her feet. She just rolls her eyes though, indignant.

“Again,” Seungwan orders with unwavering determination, straightening her position on the mat once again.

She sees the happy look that washes over Joohyun’s face at her genuine interest in the game, and nods eagerly at her.

“Again, it is.”

 

-

 

“No!” Seungwan cries as Joohyun flips another pair perfectly to conclude their game at 32-20.

It is already their seventh game. They have already spent nearly three hours on it since Seungwan takes it more seriously than anything else. 

Joohyun still wins every time though, and she doesn’t even look half as stressed as Seungwan is.

At least her counter has grown gradually over the course of their games. Joohyun only looks at her sheepishly while she pools the cards in her hands again, the fiery look of enjoyment in her eyes long replaced by a concerned gaze since the fourth game.

“No!” Seungwan cries again, practically falling to a bow on the mat as she wallows in her seventh defeat. 

“I’m so sorry,” Joohyun says in the same genuine small voice, apologetic smile once again on her lips.

“I am so bad at this!”

“No, you’re not.” Joohyun now furrows her brows seriously. 

“Yes, I am. You keep winning!”

“No. You’re actually doing better than I expected.”

“So that means you had low expectations of me.” Seungwan straightens herself back up with a pout on her lips. “That was such a backhanded compliment, unnie.” Her shoulders deflate with a slouch.

“What—” Joohyun seems to panic. “I meant you were… like, considering how you’ve never played this game before, or how confusing it might be for beginners, or for people who aren’t into games a lot, you are—”

“AGAIN!” Seungwan bellows, slamming her fists down on the mat with an intensity that shakes even Joohyun across her. 

She doesn’t like this. She’s always known of her own misfortune in games, but what she lacks in luck she makes up for in spirit. She is not backing down until she beats Joohyun in this game.

A game she just happens to be ridiculously good at.

Seungwan should step up her game! She’s a Med student, for Christ’ sake. She uses her memory a lot too!

Joohyun’s eyes are a bit worried yet entertained when they look over at her, deft fingers daintily stacking the cards back into a clean deck before starting to shuffle them again. 

Seungwan doesn’t even realize that she’s spent too much time focusing on this game than she is thinking about her ex and the failed relationship. Maybe Joohyun’s methods are actually working, much to her surprise. No matter how disheartening it is when she beats her again every single time.

Joohyun takes a deep breath after finishing her task. She gestures for Seungwan to sit properly while doing so herself. Seungwan follows, of course, she is getting heated already.

“The way you look right now is so scary,” Joohyun comments with a chuckle as she holds the deck above the floor between them.

“Quiet. I’m trying to concentrate,” Seungwan shushes her with a focused furrow of her brows and a frown.

“We aren’t even starting yet.”

“DROP THE CARDS!”

“Okay, okay!” Joohyun laughs, amused as she does as told. She carefully drops the deck to spread into a random clutter, making sure she doesn’t flip a card up in the process.

Seungwan actually cracks her knuckles as she prepares for this game. She knows she is way into it; Joohyun just grabs a pillow to rest on while she lays on her stomach, way too relaxed—but she doesn’t care. She will win this. She will.

Joohyun initiates, “I’ll start.”

She gets it wrong on the first try, obviously. Seungwan’s head whips to the cards she flipped over and burns them into her memory as quickly as possible. She hears Joohyun’s soft sigh at the mistake before flipping the cards back down.

“Your turn.”

The first several tries are bound to be filled with honest mistakes. Seungwan only gets two pairs right out of pure luck, and four for Joohyun. Somewhere into the game, she realizes that the woman across her is starting to find the rhythm and pattern in the game already.

She studies Joohyun closely, at the same time keeping track of the cards she flips over.

Joohyun gets two pairs right before she makes a mistake again, tutting to herself. Seungwan eagerly makes her move, swearing she had seen the same pair of eight diamonds earlier. To her glee, her claims are right when she flips the pair correctly.

Seungwan squeals in joy at the small victory, Joohyun just smiling at her wordlessly.

She is actually feeling good about this game. Unlike the previous ones, she is actually more focused and can remember the cards better. Joohyun, on the other hand, is silent all throughout. Sometimes Seungwan wonders just what is going on in the game queen’s mind while playing.

It is a close game. Seungwan actually has the upper hand right now (surprisingly) with 24 pairs, and Joohyun at 22. Seungwan had just gotten a pair wrong with a groan and it is now Joohyun’s turn.

She might actually win this, Seungwan thinks. She only has six pairs left to win.

Then, with a knowing gleam in Joohyun’s eyes as she looks up at her with a secretive smile – Seungwan actually stares back at her oddly – the woman reaches out, and flips the remaining six pairs over flawlessly.

It progresses slowly to Seungwan. The first couple of pairs were understandable, she was still hopeful that she’d be able to close the gap quickly now that she’s almost memorized the other cards.

But then Joohyun flips over another one, and another one, and another one—

The next thing she knows, her panic only comes when Joohyun is already ending the game with another staggering defeat on Seungwan’s end.

“NOOO!” she cries at her eighth loss, hands in her hair out of frustration. In front of her lies the result of the game, six pairs of cards perfectly laid out to add to Joohyun’s stack of wins.

She was close to winning!

“Has anyone ever beaten you at all?” she wails out to Joohyun, who is smiling at her sheepishly again.

“Er…” Joohyun thinks. “Not that I know of.”

“Is there any way to beat you at all?” Seungwan cries.

“There is, actually. Nothing is impossible,” Joohyun answers.

Seungwan’s face scrunches and she wallows in her defeat once again. It is impossible to beat Bae Joohyun in a game. She falls on her with the same pout on her lips, hugging her knees to her chest like a little kid.

Joohyun’s face is quite unreadable when she glances at her momentarily while rounding up the cards. Seungwan is not actually that upset about it. She just acts like a little baby sometimes by nature. Her friends can attest to the behavior.

The older girl must have thought the silence meant she isn’t playing anymore, because she was about to keep the cards until Seungwan reaches out one more time and surprises her.

“Again,” Seungwan requests despite her flushed cheeks of embarrassment, a determined gleam still shining in her eyes.

Joohyun looks at her in surprise, her big doe eyes wide and curious. Then she smiles gently and nods, indulging Seungwan.

“Again,” she agrees, making her move to shuffle again.

 

-

 

After three more games filled with Seungwan’s pouts and cries at Joohyun’s perfect execution of her win, the underdog finally manages to overthrow the monarch.

Seungwan wins.

In their twelfth game, with a shocking 27-25, Seungwan actually wins.

Joohyun just stares up at her with an amused smile as she looks wide-eyed at the testament of her hard-earned victory, no sound coming out from .

And then Seungwan squeals, screeches with pure delight as the realization just sinks in that yes, she won the game. Yes, she beat Bae Joohyun.

Seungwan is in the middle of celebrating her win when she looks over to Joohyun and sees the woman just chuckling softly. Actually, she thinks there might even be a hint of something in Joohyun’s smile—like shared pride of Seungwan’s victory.

Seungwan happily drops onto her knees in front of the other, closer now that the cards are already being kept by the female.

“I say this calls for a celebration.” She grins.

“A celebration?” Joohyun chuckles as she carefully stacks the cards into a deck. “It’s just a game, Seungwan.”

“A game that I beat you in.” Seungwan grins.

“Okay, bighead.” Joohyun’s tease is lighthearted and charming as she gives her a lopsided smile. “What do you want to do?”

“Go out for ice cream!”

Joohyun’s face twists. “But I don’t want to go out right now…” she complains softly, to which Seungwan just narrows her eyes to. The girl is already so pale from staying indoors most of the time. She really needs to get out sometimes.

“Ice cream, or I’m making you dance for me,” she threatens.

“Haha! As if I would dance even if you asked me to.”

“That, or I’m telling everyone you lost to me.”

Seungwan can’t believe Joohyun’s eyes actually widen to that instead. The girl’s pride is really something else.

At the end of the discourse, Joohyun ultimately finds herself being dragged outside by her energetic ball of a roommate, much to her chagrin.

Seungwan laughs at Joohyun’s scowl when she has to dress up to go out, and even more to her frown when she starts tugging at her jacket to walk faster.

“Quickly, quickly! We’re going to run out of ice cream!”

“I don’t think convenience store ice cream is that in-demand to run out quickly.”

Seungwan rolls her eyes to herself and only continues dragging Joohyun by her jacket-clad arm. People who are acquainted with Joohyun’s name and face are staring at them with intrigued eyes as they pass by. Seungwan just smiles happily to herself, unbothered, while Joohyun shifts in light discomfort at the attention.

Seungwan gets blueberry, and Joohyun gets red bean, just to be safe.

“And? And?” Seungwan asks enthusiastically after seeing Joohyun take her first taste of her favorite kind of ice cream, bright smile on her face. “How is it?”

“It’s…” Joohyun her lips clean with a contemplative expression. “It’s fine, I guess.” She shrugs.

“Fine!” Seungwan exclaims in incredulity, pouting in upset. “This is the pinnacle of convenience store ice cream. I swear by it.” 

“It’s not that bad, I suppose.”

She takes another taste of her own with an exaggerated sound of delight. “Ugh! When you realize, unnie… when you realize…”

“Realize what, even?” Joohyun asks in confusion as Seungwan instinctively loops their arms together, the question going unanswered in the air. Seungwan doesn’t even know why she did it, but Joohyun doesn’t seem to mind either. She drags them out of the store that way.

Seungwan never really realized how natural it is to spend time with Joohyun like this. It almost feels like they have been close friends since high school. 

She thinks it’s partly her fault for not reaching out to her roommate aside from casual conversations every now and then. As quiet as Joohyun is, she actually seems like a pretty engaging and open-minded person from their conversations. 

Seungwan also has the feeling that she might be the type to prefer skinship, considering how the girl awkwardly reaches out to pat her hand or rub her back whenever she gets frustrated with schoolwork—like she isn’t sure if Seungwan would appreciate it.

Seungwan appreciates it though. Just as much as she appreciates how Joohyun had patiently sat through twelve time-consuming games of concentration for her.

Speaking of, Joohyun’s idea of comfort had actually worked. Seungwan hasn’t thought about Chanyeol at all since she was too busy thinking of ways to beat Joohyun in the game. And she isn’t about to start thinking of him right now when she and her insanely pretty roommate are walking arm in arm down the pavement.

“So I’m guessing it worked?” As if reading her mind, Joohyun’s smile is smug when she breaks the comfortable silence between them. Yet Seungwan isn’t at all mad about it. She likes conversing with Joohyun.

“What do you— oh, you mean your method of ‘distraction’?” Seungwan giggles as she does the air quotations with a hand.

“Of course, what else would it be?” Joohyun’s proud smirk is so annoying, but in a good way. It actually makes Seungwan laugh joyously.

“You know, you could have just said you wanted to comfort me,” Seungwan teases with a knowing grin and a nudge of their interlocked arms.

“I’m awkward at comforting people,” Joohyun actually confesses before paying attention to her ice cream again. Seungwan bets she secretly enjoys it. “It would be humiliating if it didn’t work.”

Seungwan smiles genuinely at her.

“I know I always say you’re awkward and stuff, but you’re not actually that awkward, unnie,” she tells her. “It might even be admirable that you don’t know how to comfort people. It just means everything you choose to do after that is genuine and thought-through.”

“Huh, I didn’t expect to hear a compliment, but okay.” Joohyun chuckles, but Seungwan can see right through her pink ears. Joohyun likes it.

Seungwan slows down their pace pensively, and Joohyun gives her a curious gaze sideways.

“Thank you,” Seungwan suddenly says in earnest with a grateful look at her roommate. 

Joohyun just stares at her.

“Seriously, thank you, Joohyun unnie. For being thoughtful and considerate enough. For staying even when you said you would leave,” she chuckles as she nudges the girl again. “For trying.” She grins. “And for losing, most of all,” she doesn’t forget to add. “You did it. You… you comforted me.” She smiles.

Joohyun smiles back at her then, tender, with eyes so intense it almost makes Seungwan cower in self-consciousness. It’s almost as if she has never been genuinely thanked before. That thought makes Seungwan sad deep inside, because Joohyun’s little acts of kindness are acts of kindness nonetheless.

Yet her gaze is so smoldering that it only flusters Seungwan by the second. It is no joke being stared at by someone like Joohyun. It would make anyone’s cheeks flush pink.

And Seungwan is no exception to that. She just goes back to eating her ice cream as an excuse to break their eye contact smoothly, hiding her pink cheeks with her hair.

“It’s no problem, Seungwan-ah.” Seungwan’s ears perk up at the added familiarity to her name. Does this mean they are actually opening up to each other properly now? As close friends? “Though, I’m not so sure you should thank me for the last one…”

Seungwan whips her head to the girl, confused. Joohyun is eating her ice cream as well, but she can still see the sly smirk that hangs on the corner of her lips secretively.

“What do you mean?”

“Er… you see… I don’t know how to say this to you.”

“Unnie!” Seungwan tugs on her arm with a whine of curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“Um, well…” Joohyun laughs, and it would have been adorable along with the foam of ice cream on her lips, but Seungwan should’ve known better.

“I actually just let you win… deliberately…” Joohyun confesses, and Seungwan’s entire world actually stills at that very moment.

Joohyun let her win, deliberately, and made her believe she actually had the upper hand? Oh, Joohyun has obviously never seen Seungwan’s persistence getting paired with her need for vengeance. She’s got a whole storm coming when Seungwan just unhooks their arms from each other, and starts power walking back to the dorm complex heatedly.

With every stomp of her foot on the pavement, every musical laugh that escapes Joohyun’s lips and her calls of, “Seungwan-ah!” from behind, Joohyun doesn’t know that Seungwan has already set her mind to twenty more rounds of that godawful game.

Seungwan will win this time. Rightfully so. She will make sure of it.

 

---

Endnotes: I don't know if any of you here watch Kakegurui but the game Wenrene were playing was actually Double Memory! I hope you guys enjoyed this random thingy from me!! I'm not so sure about this work... I'm confused how I can write so much but so little at the same time (you get me? omg). It feels as though this work just came and went like a passing breeze. But ngl I actually like the little universe I created here o_o

I'm still trying to find my pace once again after rotting for a while, but I hope my work will only improve from here ! Comments would be most appreciated!! :D hit me up on @revelsoda if you guys want :)