No matter how many layers Jisoo had on, there was no winning against the cold that always managed to seep through the threads of her clothes. Shoulders squared against the shivers, she dashed up the metal stairwell behind the café, two tote bags of groceries in each hand and the wooden door of the apartment in her sight.

Dropping the bags at her feet, she fished out her keys from her overcoat pocket, cursing under her breath as numb fingers fumbled for the right key of the chain of three. The door gave way with one turn and click and she exhaled in relief when the heater’s warmth washed over her.

With shoulders first to keep the gradually closing door open, she stumbled into the apartment, kicking off her sneakers on the way to the kitchen island and heaving the grocery bags on the tiled surface in one swift motion. She huffed, rubbing her palms together to entice warmth, before pausing upon the realization that the chatter in the room died down.

On the couch were two women looking at her: Chaeyoung – in an oversized knit sweater, high fuzzy socks, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, and knees tucked to her chest – and another girl – sweats matched with her large hoodie, the hood over her short, wavy, ash brown banged hair that had Jisoo squinting to recognize the face.

“Lisa? Manoban?” Jisoo gasped as the model waved with a wide smile.

“Hi Jisoo!” Lisa chimed, the two girls hopping off the cushions and waltzing over. “Long time, no see.”

“When did you get here?”

“A few minutes after you left for groceries,” Chaeyoung said, peering into the bags as Lisa propped her elbows on the counter, endearing eyes following the latter. “I was surprised, too. I heard the doorbell, then I opened the door, and there she was all covered up with shades. I thought we were about to get robbed! Showed up totally unannounced, in the middle of the day, and with her busy schedule? I wouldn’t have thought it was her.”

“I almost got hit!” Lisa added, the two girls sharing a laugh as Jisoo organized cans and containers in the bottom cupboard. “If I took my shades off a split second too late, I probably would’ve died. Thankfully I’m still in one piece. I decided to come by because, honestly, why not! I was bored.”

“We are so graced with your presence.” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes, evoking a whine from Lisa, followed by another fit of giggles as Jisoo discarded the first bag she emptied to the floor.

“Oh, she is. You have no idea,” Jisoo smirked, rummaging through the second bag. “If I had a thousand won for every time she talked about you –”

Chaeyoung’s jaw dropped, what would’ve been a flustered act of denial replaced by the chime of the doorbell. All heads perked to the door, and when another chime sang, it was Chaeyoung who bolted to the door with a quick, “I’ll get that!”

Chuckling softly, Lisa turned back to Jisoo and poked her arm into the third bag. “Do you need help? I’ll take these out for you.”

“It’s alright. I got it,” replied Jisoo, despite the latter proceeding to lay the groceries out on the countertop. She closed the cupboard with her foot, the appearance of Lisa resurfacing a question kept in the back of her mind since receiving the business card. Along with it was that nervousness everytime Jisoo thought about it, although the question wasn’t hard to ask. It was anxiety for something else: the inevitable.

Inevitable was what escaping this town was. It was bound to happen because – in truth – Jisoo did want to escape, to run away, but the mere notion churned her stomach, paired with headaches so stressful that she’s better off not thinking about it. But here Lisa was, and here was the question at the tip of her tongue.

She’d face it sooner or later. That was what inevitable meant.

“Hey, Lisa, about that offer two months ago…”

“Hmm? The offer from JYP?” The mention piqued Lisa’s interest, eyes flicking up. “Have you thought about it yet?”

“I’m still thinking about it. I was just wondering, since I’m not too thrilled about writing about celebrities my whole life, if I would have to – write about celebrities, that is.”

Lisa waved her hands, shaking her head. “Ah! No, not at all. They’re willing to support any of your works. It would be pretty boring to be restrained in what you write, so they’re totally opened to whatever you do. But, of course, you’d do the things they need from you, you know? They’re willing to take care of offers and connections and all that networking stuff.”

“Ah, I see.” Frankly, the information didn’t calm Jisoo down. Instead, it fueled the anxiety more because it made the offer ever more enticing to take.

And that meant running away from this town.

From Jennie.

“Have you talked to Chaeyoung about it yet?”

“No, to be honest.”

“Shouldn’t you? I mean, you live together and are really close friends. I’d figure you’d tell her by now.”

“Not yet,” Jisoo sighed, her nails tapping on a glass bottle of soy sauce. “Right now, I have a job to finish. I think I’ll make up my mind by then, and talk to her by then too.”

“Okay. I wish you the best of luck.”

Jisoo chuckled, the comment out of the blue. “What’s with the sentimentality?”

“When you said you had a job to do, you looked kind of down about it. Are you having a hard time? Clients could be the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you. I get it.”

The remark and Lisa’s comprehensive look took Jisoo aback. Was she really that easy to read? Like how Jennie said? She shook her head. “No, she’s –”

She’s the best thing that’ll ever happen to me.

For a moment, Lisa regarded her meaningfully before patting the back of her hand. “You work so hard even when things are tough, huh? Respect!” she chimed, shooting a thumbs up and a toothless smile.

“What’s getting tough?” asked Chaeyoung, sauntering into the kitchen with a plastic basket of snacks in her arms.

“We were just talking about Jisoo’s job,” said Lisa. “She’s such a hard worker.”

Chaeyoung, who was unpacking the basket to inspect the content, froze and snapped to Jisoo with a taut expression. “Her job is getting tough?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jisoo blurted to defuse the other’s rising assumptions. “Besides, is it okay for me to give up just because things got a little tough?”

The haste reassurance and meek chuckle were proven unsuccessful from the way Chaeyoung’s eyebrows stitched – her pensive eyes sending a clear we’ll talk later – before averting toward Lisa, expression shifting from serious to bright like a light switch. Jisoo silently scoffed and returned to picking out the various sauces from the bag. The girl was talented indeed, singing and acting in her portfolio.

“The lady across the street kindly gifted this to us,” Chaeyoung chirped, spreading her arms over the plentiful bags of chips and other goodies. “How about we have a small movie night? Since Lisa is over?”

“That sounds fun! This would totally go well with soju.” Lisa shook a bag of dried shredded squid. “You guys have soju, right?”

“Of course.” Chaeyoung bobbed her head as Jisoo opened the fridge. “We always have –”

“There’s no more soju.”

Jisoo’s comment left Chaeyoung’s mouth gaped mid sentence, the girl snapping to the shelf where the bottles would have resided, only to find it empty – save for a few boxes of milk – just like Jisoo said. “Ah, I think – I think I drank it all,” she giggled sheepishly, rubbing her neck.

Lisa’s eyes widened. “All by yourself?”

“Have you tried soju and kimchi? It’s so good.” Chaeyoung’s eyes nervously darted between Lisa and Jisoo, both regarding her skeptically. Soju? With kimchi? Out of all food? “I think I got carried away when you brought home the kimchi from your volunteering, Jisoo. It was so good!”

Jisoo chuckled and closed the fridge. “It’s okay. I’ll head to the convenience store real quick for a pack.”

“I’ll get it. I drank all of it, after all.”

“It’s really cold outside and I’m already dressed, so might as well. You and Lisa choose a movie. You’ve always been better at choosing movies than me.”

After a few minutes of Chaeyoung’s amusing antics – all insistence and apologetic looks – the younger girl succumbed, Lisa dragging her over to scour the box of VHS tapes tucked underneath the television stand. Slipping her sneakers on, Jisoo grimaced from the damp fabric before stepping out of the warmth apartment into the biting cold once again. A small sound of disgruntlement rumbled in from the absence of warmth as she pulled closer the lapels of her coat to rekindle some of it.

Before Jisoo closed the door completely, Chaeyoung’s small sing-song voice wafted through the crack, saying something that piqued her interest and was mentally stored away as another reason to tease the younger girl later, before it was sealed with a click of the lock.

“Lisa, do you think we’ll see the first snow together?”

~

Four months until the wedding.

Jennie wished that wasn’t the case, but alas, here she was going through the ever growing guest list (that seemed to have grown tenfold since the last time she’d seen it) for the wedding four months away.

Sat beside her at her desk was Joohyun, reading off the guest names of the registry book lit bright by the desk lamp as Jennie, spectacles perched on her nose, signed away at meaningless stacks of documents whose words she really couldn’t care to read. Only the lines at the bottom were deemed relevant because that’s where she signed her signature.

“... Ji Chang Wook, Jo In Sung, Jun Ji Hyun, Jung Hae In…”

We’re only on the J’s? Seriously? Jennie sighed as her ballpoint pen absently scratched the parchment, propping her temple on her knuckles. At least she was fortunate enough for Joohyun’s help to go through the list, although it was inevitably useless, considering Jennie really didn’t care about a damn name on that list and all she had to do was approve their attendance. Not only that, but if she were to disprove, her parents always overridden her judgement anyway.

“... Kim Bum, Kim Hee Sun, Kim Ji Soo, Kim Ji Soo, Kim Ji Soo, Kim Ji Soo…”

“Kim Jisoo?” The tip of Jennie’s pen paused in the midst of her signature as her head snapped to Joohyun, who jumped from the sudden remark. “Why are there four Kim Jisoos?”

“One is an actress,” Joohyun scrutinized the book, finger tracing along the column, “another is a singer, the other is an actor, and the last one is the writer – the one writing your biography.”

Jennie’s grip tightened around the pen. Jisoo is invited to the wedding? Would she even go? Oh god, and I’m marrying Jongin… The pen clattered on the wood along with her spectacles as her palms pressed on her strained eyes. Will she be offended? Will it… hurt her? But I can’t disprove her, or else it would be suspicious, right? Why would I disprove my writer?

The endless waves of thoughts and worries crashed after one another until her stomach churned, nausea rising along with a familiar headache that seemed to make itself her companion for the past few months. Joohyun’s silence was patient as Jennie deeply inhaled and exhaled.

She’d be invited anyway. There’s really no point in stressing over such a thing. Things like that can’t be helped.

“Okay,” Jennie puffed and jogged the signed documents into a neat stack, flitting a blind eye to the unfinished stack much bigger than the finished ones. “I think that’s enough for today. We’ll continue another day.”

Joohyun gave a knowing nod, closing the registry book and organizing all the papers littered across the desk as Jennie yawned and stretched, her stiff muscles cracking in appreciation. The large window of her room framed a cloudy day, the gray hue of the outside bleeding onto her floorboards. It looked like winter, and it looked depressing – but it didn’t have to be winter for the world to be depressing. Depression lingered year round in all the seasons, especially spring.

Or maybe that was just Jennie because, too many other people, spring brought happiness. Happiness, liveliness, new beginnings.

Yeah, maybe it was just her.

“I’m really burnt out, Joohyun,” Jennie confessed, assisting Joohyun with clearing away her pens and remaining papers. “Is it fine if I can take a walk?”

There was really no need to ask because, regardless of the older girl’s answer, she meant to do it anyway. Joohyun merely hummed as Jennie was halfway to her closet, sifting through her various hung jackets. From the window, it seemed that the weather outside was freezing – and with the absence of breeze, most likely dry – so she settled for a simple trench coat over her sweater, snug pants, and a black knit stocking cap.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Jennie said with leather boots in her hand, Joohyun’s response unheard as she hurried toward the front door. Luckily, there were no maids in sight upon reaching the door that would no doubt have questions that’d irk her more.

The cold smacked her face with a force equal to a train, paralyzing her in place momentarily before she closed the door behind her, blinking away the dryness and wetting her lips. It was hard to tell the time of day with no vision of the sun, but it was bright enough to deduct it as at least mid day. Although the air was dry, anywhere was better than the suffocating house, so Jennie breathed it all in with her hands shoved into her pockets as her feet went along their way out the gate and down the sloped neighborhood.

It started out a dubious idea – just walking and walking and letting her feet take her to wherever, like that night she followed the stars. This time, there were no stars to follow, only a landscape canvas of a gray sea, but her feet moved nevertheless with the fervor of an invisible string tugging her gut along at every corner, twist, and turn. In that way, it should be no different from a car, but the way the subtle breeze kissed her skin and the way twenty nine pebbles were counted as she challenged herself to dance around the assorted cracks on the sidewalk made everything a little realer.

Just a little.

Now it was a habit – almost a lifestyle – to anticipate and scrutinize the world – and unconsciously so, with the melancholic resonation of that husky voice speaking her wise words like the wise person she was.

So that’s why taking walks is better. The corners of Jennie’s lips tugged, her nimble feet slowing to a stop as the tug lessened and lessened. The invisible string had fallen flat, the end of it coiled in front of a familiar corner convenience store; familiar with its few tables and stools lined along the outside, the ice cream container with a chipped poster of flavors beside the door, and the ghostly soft touch of a white flake on the tip of her nose.

Through the window was the cashier – a young girl (a part-timer from the looks of her) with her black ponytail over her visor. She had set her book down as someone arrived at the counter, heaving a box of soju on. Numbness seized Jennie’s body as the customer faced the window, patting her pockets for – presumably – her wallet, and it was hard to mistake her. Hard to mistaken that sun-kissed skin, the dark fringe-framed locks, and the heart-shaped smile flashed when she handed won to the cashier, chattering small talk from the way she bobbed her head politely.

Of course. Jennie heaved a sigh, eyes dropping to her feet. I always seem to find my way to Jisoo.

Everything about Jisoo was natural. It was a known fact – but to the point where her mind couldn’t deviate from the girl, and now with her feet spontaneously finding their way to her, it’s so natural that it’s unnatural. Unnatural, the way there had yet been a passing day that Jisoo wasn’t on her mind, the way Jisoo occupied every corner of her world, the way Jennie should turn around and walk back home, but stayed rooted because of the want to see Jisoo overpowered the hurt.

All of it was unnatural – all of it symptoms of a special type of sickness.

Lovesickness.

The storebell jingled, Jisoo exchanging a few bows to the cashier as she dashed out. Jennie’s eyes flitted to a black item falling from her pocket at the doorway, unbeknown to the girl heaving the soju pack on a nearby table and patting her overcoat.

Clumsy. Clicking her tongue, Jennie picked up the wallet while Jisoo’s head swiveled around and under frantically. Jisoo or not, it was common courtesy to help, so Jennie tapped her shoulder, prompting the latter to jump a few inches off the ground.

“Jennie!” Jisoo squeaked, palming her chest from the fright.

“You dropped your wallet,” mumbled Jennie, timidly holding the leather wallet out.

“Thank you. I was just trying to find it,” she chuckled, graciously taking it. “Why are you out and about in this weather? You get sick easily.”

“I was just walking.” Jennie paused. Would it be weird to admit coincidence? It was a coincidence, but with Jisoo, nothing seemed to be coincidental. It seemed almost fated, the way all paths led to her, but obviously she wasn’t going to say that. That’s just sappy. “I don’t know, but I just happened to walk by here and saw you drop your wallet.”

“Thank goodness. If you hadn’t walked by, then I would’ve lost my wallet.”

The lighthearted laugh quickly ebbed into awkward silence as they exchanged awkward smiles, swaying and rocking at the balls of their feet. , this is so awkward. Jennie bit the inside of her cheek, heat rushing up her face while Jisoo rubbed the nape of her neck. , I knew this was a bad idea. Abort abort abort.

Both lips parted simultaneously, the words clashing together in a tangled lingo.

“I think I’ll go now –”

“– have a drink with me.”

“A drink?” Jennie’s eyebrows shot up.

Jisoo flashed a toothless smile, patting the pack under her elbow. “Yep.”

“But you just bought that.”

“It’s fine. It’s for a movie night with Chaeyoung and her friend. They wouldn’t notice two missing bottles. I mean, heck, Chaeyoung burns through a pack, so it wouldn’t matter all that much. She’s not an alcoholic, though, by the way,” she hastily added at the end.

Jennie hesitated, but sat down on the plastic stool anyway as Jisoo took a seat on the one across. She opened the flap of the box and slipped out two jade bottles, sliding one to Jennie. “Do you know how to open a soju bottle?”

“Not really. I’ve never drank soju before.”

“Right, rich kid, with all your wines and champagnes.” Jisoo’s lips quirked, poising the bottle sideways in front of her: one hand wrapped around the cap and the other splayed at the body. “You hold it here and here, and then you twist!”

In one fluid motion – so fast Jennie wasn’t able to register it – the cap popped open and Jisoo triumphantly exhibited the opened bottle of soju, “And that’s how it’s done.”

“I did not get any of that,” Jennie deadpanned, her own bottle tentatively rolling between her palms.

Jisoo reached over the table, hands briefly pausing over Jennie’s hands whose breath hitched, before tapping the cap. “Hold the cap tight, and then the body. No, that’s too low – oh right, you have small hands.” They giggled softly as Jisoo’s fingers guided Jennie’s fingers, positioning them accordingly along the bottle, all previous awkwardness washed away with the focus on the bottle. “Here, and you have to twist your arms like this, and it should pop open.”

Jennie froze, unsure how to initiate the procedure with her arms in such a cumbersome style. She casted an uncertain look at Jisoo, the girl nodding in encouragement, as she wiggled the bottle. “Like this?”

“Yeah and just twist.”

Jennie pressed her lips in a thin line and, with a grunt, exerted as much strength into twisting the bottle, only for the cap to not budge. Flailing her hand pricked by the friction of the cap, Jennie in between her teeth, “My hands are cold, so it’s harder to hold it. That was a test run.”

Jisoo watched, amused, with her chin on her palm as Jennie tried again. She exhaled and rubbed warm air between her hands before positioning them once again. Breathing deeply and squaring her shoulders, Jennie clenched her teeth and twisted.

It didn’t budge.

“I think I’ll just do it for you.”

Jennie’s cheeks burned, defeated, as she handed it to Jisoo who, of course, opened it like a professional.

“It’s okay. It’s not easy the first time,” Jisoo reassured, laughing at Jennie’s pout. “If you kept trying now, we’d freeze to death before you’d get it opened. Maybe next time.”

Next time? Jisoo seemed to have caught her mistake, demeanor stiffened and poorly masked with the sip of her soju. Jennie frowned, but wordlessly sipped, too. The sweet taste was foreign to her tongue, very different from the drinks at formal parties, with an almost authentic texture. It was good, though, so she took another sip, letting it roll on her tongue. Although, a next time doesn’t sound so bad…

“What movie are you watching?” asked Jennie.

“I don’t know. They’re picking it right now, I think. Your cheek looks better.”

“Yeah. Ointment did the trick,” Jennie hummed and nodded, eyes sweeping around the street. Considering it was settled within a small road of apartment complexes, it wasn’t surprising that the area was empty and quiet. Empty and quiet, but in a serene way, the world asleep and Jennie and Jisoo in their own small space at this small table at this small convenience store. It was strange, the way Jisoo lingered everywhere – even in this elusive spot – the mere notion of her resurfacing all the space and memories they once shared, phantoms of all of what they used to be.

Strange, scary – but nice, if an aching heart was anywhere near nice. Much better than a broken heart in retrospect.

Jennie’s eyes flitted to Jisoo, who was staring off into the distance and taking occasional sips before her eyes slid to meet Jennie’s gaze. Against Jisoo’s dark hair was a white speck, hanging on the strands framing her face.

“There’s something on your hair,” Jennie said, her hand with a mind of its own when it reached over to pluck it off. “Here, let me get –”

But when she plucked it off, the speck crumbling into nothingness between her fingers, another drifted down, settling itself on the tip of Jisoo’s fringe. Then, another, and another, and another. Beautiful snowflakes were sprinkling down and Jennie could only stare into Jisoo’s eyes, hand hovered over her cheek, as the flakes reflected off that twinkling hazel brown hue, almost golden against the world’s gray palette.

“It’s snowing,” Jisoo breathed, eyes yet to tear away, a gravitational pull keeping them locked and Jennie deep.

No , Jennie wanted to say, but instead, her hand retracted from Jisoo’s soft hair and she merely nodded. “It is.”

“It’s the first snow.”

“It is.”

Jisoo smiled. “Do you know what they say about the first snow?”

“What?”

“If people see the first snow together, true love will blossom between them and they’ll stay together forever.” Jisoo tilted her head back to the sky, her jawline sharp as she breathed in the air – no longer dry, but crisp and fresh and vanilla. It was hard to turn away, to look at anywhere but Jisoo, because at the moment, the girl never looked more angelic.

Even in the depressing, bleak winter, Jisoo diminished the grayness with color and liveliness – so much liveliness – and all Jennie could do was sip the sweet liquid to ease the heartache. Snowflakes scattered around them – drifting away little by little, but lingering in their space, be it around their feet, on the table, on the girl’s coat, or in the air – never landing in their endless descent.

Lingering and never going away was the snow. The snow held on, even though it crumbled away so easily with a pinch of two fingers. So delicate, yet it held on.

“So they say.”

Jisoo turned to Jennie with a wistful smile, pointing the tip of her bottle toward Jennie, to which they clinked glasses.

“So they say.”

~

It was so cold it hurt. Jennie’s fingers were numb despite the thick winter gloves, and her scarf did little for her frozen face that was half buried into its wool. She was a walking marshmallow from the amount of clothes she had on, but it still couldn’t beat the cold, so she endured and marched on.

But where was she going? She had ran away from her chauffeur once again, and she didn’t want to go to the library nor the park, anywhere that she might bump into Jisoo who’d she’d been avoiding for the past week.

Speaking of Jisoo…

Jennie groaned, the memory of that day flaming her cheeks and resurfacing a headache.

“Why did you have to say that?” she sighed to herself, slapping her forehead. “You ruin everything, Jennie.”

Her feet turned a corner, into a small road veering off the street. The apartment complexes were tall, the pavement cracked and, nuzzled between such tall buildings, was a small corner convenience store with a few tables and stools lined along the outside.

“Should I get some ice cream?” Jennie pondered at the sight of the ice cream container situated outside the doorway, the poster advertising a variety of flavors, including milk flavor. She her lips at the thought. Albeit the cold, milk-flavored ice cream was rather hard to pass.

“Jennie!”

The husky voice seized all Jennie’s muscles, heart thumping as her head whipped over her shoulder to see the girl she’d been avoiding bounding over – more of a full sprint from the way her bangs flew off her forehead. “Jennie!” she shouted again.

Jennie dipped her head and forced her feet to move, but Jisoo jumped in front of her tracks – all flurry of dark hair, sun-kissed skin, and breathless breaths through pale lips.

“We need to talk.”

“No.” Jennie shook her head, averting from Jisoo’s gaze. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. You think I’m weird, huh?”

“That’s not –”

“No, really. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that and now I ruined everything between us.”

“Ruined? What are you talking about –”

“It’s wrong of me,” Jennie blurted, all of whatever thoughts built up from last week spilling out in a jumble of words and raw emotion. “It’s wrong because I’m not supposed to think of you like this. You’re my friend, my closest friend, and it feels wrong – all these feelings feel wrong.” She paused, taking a painful breath as thickened. “How can I think of you as a friend when I want to hold your hand, or hug, or lay together – all of which are probably normal for friends – but what’s not normal is that my heart beats. It beats really fast for you whenever we do those things. You make me so nervous I can't even hold your hand.” Her eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear the sight of the latter. “It was a mistake because I shouldn’t – I shouldn’t feel this way. But I can’t help but feel this way when all I want to do is look at you, you and your stupid pretty face – your stupid pretty eyes – and your stupid pretty lips – even when you’re saying stupid things because you’re Kim Jisoo. That’s why it was a mistake because I ruined us and you’re weirded out by me.”

Jennie peeked out the crack of her eyelids, surprised to find Jisoo still standing in front of her, even more surprised when those favorite heart-shaped lips tugged into a lopsided grin that only enticed her confusion and agitation further.

“Why are you –”

But those favorite pair of lips kissed her.

It was awkward, it was clumsy, it wasn’t the typical first kiss written in romance novels. It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t cliché, it’s what’s expected from two inexperienced kids.

But Jennie exploded all the same, all the corny feelings found in those romance novels – butterflies, sparks, fireworks – exploded, all that and more. Even if their teeth clashed and their lips ungracefully mushed together, the warmth – over its boiling point – pumped her engine of a heart into overdrive that dispelled all initial harsh coldness. Even if it was only for a split second and Jennie couldn’t register the taste and feel of Jisoo’s lips before she pulled away with an equally flushed face, it took her breath away. Precipitation of winter air cut through the silence between them as they stared into each other, both dumbstruck and speechless and blushing like mad.

The first snowflake wafted down, slow with all the time in the world and blinding white on Jisoo’s dark hair. The second snowflake followed, the soft cold sensitive on the tip of Jennie’s heated nose. Then, came the third – then, the fourth – then, a gentle sprinkle of snow, steady and feather light as it spotted Jisoo’s fleece coat, dancing and drifting around them.

And when Jennie thought her heart couldn’t burst more, the words Jisoo spoke sent it over the edge.

“I think I like you too.”

~

Christmas spirit flowed through all Seungwan’s house; from the over the top decorations of garlands strung along the walls and stairwell, wreaths above every cased opening and fireplace, an assortment of reindeers and snowmen on every surface of furniture, and swags on the doors to the jolly music from the radio, scented candles, and cozy warmth in every room.

The girls often hosted holiday parties at Seungwan’s house because it was much bigger than all of their compact apartments (and had cool decorations), and this year was no exception. Sooyoung and Yeri were in the kitchen, most likely bothering Chaeyoung and Seungwan, and Nayeon and Seulgi sat on armchairs by the fireplace, drinking wine over soft chatter. The house was warm, a mix of fire and cinnamon, that starkly contrasted the heavy snowstorm outside, the flakes quick and miniscule against the night as they coated the world in white.

Jisoo, sat on the cushions of the bay window with knees tucked to her sweatered chest, fiddled with her pager in one hand with a wine glass in the other. An internal debate was at the tip of her fingertips that punched the buttons of the pager every so often, only to delete the message and return to fiddling. She sighed and sipped her wine as the battering of the snow fell in rhythm to the radio’s cheery music.

Even amidst all the jolly Christmas joy, Jisoo couldn’t enjoy it. The moment around her ebbed irrelevant in the front of the storm, the storm much like her endless thoughts about a certain girl.

No, she wasn’t usually this melancholic at gatherings with her friends. Most of the time, she’s buoyant and spirited, joining in all of her friends’ antics and drinking the night away. But much like this snowstorm that, according to the news, was the first heavy snowstorm in a decade, her melancholy came unwonted.

What’s Jennie up to? Is she well? Has she eaten yet? Is she eating with her family right now? Is she cold? Is she lonely? Is she looking at the same snow?

Another heavy sigh escaped Jisoo’s lips as someone approached her, moving some of the pillows before sitting crisscrossed beside her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” asked Seulgi, craning into Jisoo’s peripheral view. “You’re sighing a lot these days.”

“Nothing much.”

“Are you messaging someone?” She nudged her chin to the pager, blank and idle between Jisoo’s fingers.

“Maybe. I don’t know if I should wish them a merry christmas or not.”

“Why not? It wouldn’t hurt.”

Jisoo in between her teeth, eyes averting from the window to the other’s inquisitive gaze. “It’s not that simple, Seulgi.”

Seulgi scoffed, “You’re weird.”

“What? Why?”

“You keep saying the most simple things aren’t that simple. You’re not an overthinker from what I’ve known. You always went with the flow.”

“I’m not.”

“Then, what’s the problem?” Seulgi spun the stem of her wine glass. “The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in the person’s determination. If you keep thinking things aren’t simple – which, I think, makes you think it’s impossible – you’re really not going to get anything done. And you’re one to always get things done. That being said, just send it.”

“I don’t know –”

“Who’s the person anyway? They must be special if they’re giving you such a hard time. An ex-boyfriend?”

Jisoo grimaced, eyes flitting from Seulgi to her fuzzy socks that were a gift from Nayeon from their game of Secret Santa. “Actually, it’s a girl.”

Seulgi’s wine glass stilled. “An ex-friend, then?”

To be clear, Seulgi wasn’t one to hold things such as uality against people. She was open-minded about a lot of things deemed controversial in Korea (she’s nonchalant like that) so there was really no harm in telling Seulgi the truth about Jennie. But Jisoo was conserved about it, and she wasn’t in the mood to confess such a thing, so she merely nodded along. “Yeah. An ex-friend.”

“Are you guys on bad terms?”

“Not really. It’s kind of complicated.”

“What’s complicated about it?”

It hurts. The angsty words almost rolled off her tongue from the pungent taste of the wine, but they were caught at the tip just in time. All her thoughts were too angsty and, if spoken, were bound to sour the Christmas spirit, so they were washed down with another sip. “I’m just not sure if it’s okay to talk to her.”

“I think this is the perfect opportunity to mend a friendship. There’s literally no harm in wishing a merry christmas. What would she do, curse you out for wishing her such a thing? What if she wants to do the same? You miss every shot you don’t take. You’re Jisoo, you’ll be okay.”

Jisoo frowned, lips pressed in a thin line at the pager in her hand as the older girl’s words resonated in her head. Resonating, but her thoughts remained unchanged and uncertain. After a moment of silence, Seulgi heaved an exasperated sigh and plucked the device right off her palm.

“Hey!” Jisoo protested. despite the lack of attempt to grab it back. Seulgi thumbed the buttons hurriedly, and in a second, she exhibited the screen displaying a Merry Christmas.

“Now all you have to do is type in her number. I did the hard stuff for you, right? Typing in merry christmas?”

The corners of Jisoo’s lips tugged at Seulgi’s gesture, the older girl with a small smirk and wiggling the pager encouragingly. Shaking her head with a soft chuckle, Jisoo took it, making sure to shoot Seulgi a playful glare. “Alright.”

Seulgi earnestly watched over Jisoo’s shoulder as she typed in the number, her thumb hovering over the green button in brief hesitation as she worried her lip.

it.

The green button was pressed and the message was sent. Jisoo exhaled, the weight of the internal debate over this simple act lifting off her chest, and Seulgi patted her shoulder proudly.

“Let’s go back to the rest,” said Seulgi. “They’re pulling out the dessert.”

Jisoo smiled and shook her head. “I’ll join later. I want to watch the snow for a little bit longer, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Seulgi crawled off the cushions and stretched her arms, releasing a noisy yawn. “I can’t guarantee you any dessert though, because Chaeyoung and I won’t hold back.”

“Hey! There better be at least some cakes left. The ones with the sweet red bean paste.”

Laughing, Seulgi walked away, shouting over her shoulder, “No guarantee!”

Once Seulgi turned into the rowdy kitchen – the girls doing god knew what in there – Jisoo returned to the window. Albeit the relentless storm, there was a strange sort of peace within it. She was inside and the storm was outside, with only this layer of glass separating them.

Is it that easy? Jisoo made to take another sip, but her glass was empty, much to her dismay. She set the glass down by her side and wrapped her arms around her knees, the pager clenched tightly in her palm. Am I just thinking too hard about all of it? Am I giving myself a hard time?

Is Jennie having a hard time like me? Is what I’m doing for the worst instead of the better? Is this right? Was sending that right? Was that why she freaked a few weeks ago at the elderly home? From all these things I’m doing? Am I confusing her? , what am I doing. What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing.

Jisoo squeezed her eyes shut and rested her forehead on her knees. She didn’t overthink much, but only about Jennie would she overthink. Thoughts, feelings, and worries about Jennie a running train, accompanied by that constant, sickening ache.

It wasn’t that easy.

But that was okay.

Like this snowstorm, things pass. Even if it came back the next decade, it’d pass once again. This snowstorm would pass eventually, so Jisoo watched it cover the world in white fluff that was fated to melt in the upcoming spring.

~

In the foyer was a grand Christmas tree, donned head to toe in wreaths, bulbs, ornaments, lights, and an angel on the peak with a touch of fake snow and a red rug ringing the base. With a height reaching the balcony of the staircase, it was practically every child’s Christmas dream to wake up to, typically with a mound of presents at the bottom.

Unfortunately, there were no mound of presents in sight, nor was it Jennie’s Christmas dream to wake up to. As a matter of fact, she disdained everything about the holiday and its fake, joyous spirit, so she hardly gave the obnoxious attraction a glance and proceeded toward the dining room, a small gift box in hand. It was an obligatory present for Jongin – a request-but-not-a-request from her mother – and who was Jennie but not a dutiful daughter? Hence, here she was with the gift, walking in fashionably late to the Christmas family dinner that wasn’t any different from the other dinners.

Sat in their usual seating arrangement were her family and Jongin’s family, all dressed up with a grand feast laid before them, an array of foods such as bulgogi, side dishes like kimchi, a golden roasted turkey, and dessert including a plate of rice cakes decorated with fruit and more. Frankly, it looked as delicious as it smelled.

And, as always, her father had something to comment.

“We’re glad you could make it, even if it’s eventually,” her father quipped after Jennie bowed to Jongin’s family, smoothening her red velvet dress and taking her seat beside Taehyung, whose hair seemed to grow in length and was as bored as ever. “At least it was before the turkey got cold.”

Jennie forced a smile. “I try my best.”

His nostrils flared for a split second before he chuckled, the other adults joining in as he raised his wine glass. “Anyway, it’s so spirited with everyone here celebrating Christmas for the first time as a future family. Cheers to the Kims and the future of YG Times and SM Post.”

Everyone raised their glasses, chanting after him (the older adults more enthusiastic than the younger ones) before diving into the meal. Jongin crooked a kind smile to Jennie which she strained to return out of courtesy.

Much like other dinners, tonight was uneventful with the usual adult chatter, Jongin’s awkward glances, spaced out Taehyung, and Jennie’s lack of appetite. She managed to down some bulgogi, but the other foods – although appetizing – left a bad taste in . After a few reluctant bites of rice cake, she set her fork and knife down for the better and drank water for the rest of dinner.

It was okay. She wasn’t hungry anyway.

Per usual, after the dinner was over, Taehyung beelined to his room and Jennie and Jongin stood by the Christmas tree, holding their presents for the other.

“You look beautiful tonight,” said Jongin, scratching the back of his neck.

“Thank you. You look handsome, too,” Jennie replied monotonously, unimpressed by the compliment. “I got a present for you.”

Jongin took the gift graciously, eyes twinkling and lips curled as he unwrapped the paper, revealing a sleek, leather box. Upon opening it was a beautiful, golden watch – twenty four carat, to be exact – nestled in the black fabric. Jongin beamed perfect rows of teeth, eyes lighting up.

“Wow, this is amazing! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He tucked the box under his arm and handed Jennie his gift, most likely a jewelry box from the size and dimensions. “I got a present for you, too.”

Under the wrapping was a faux leather black box, and within it was a diamond necklace with small, sparkling diamonds all around. It must’ve cost a fortune from the looks of it.

“It’s beautiful.”

“That’s good. I mean –” Jongin chuckled nervously. “– I’m not that good at picking out accessories. My mother helped me with it, so I’m glad you like it.” He cleared his throat. “Can I put it on you? If that’s okay?”

“Uhm, sure.”

Bundling her hair up into a tail to expose her neck, Jennie turned around as Jongin gingerly took the necklace out the box. His hand briefly brushed the nape as he rounded from the front to the back, the diamond cold on her skin.

“Thank you,” Jennie muttered. “Get home safe. It’s snowing a lot.”

“Will do,” Jongin smiled, shooting a small salute. “See you around.”

Jongin’s family left, the mansion ebbed into its usual eerie emptiness, and the uncomfortable comfort of her bedroom greeted Jennie once again. The curtains of her window were pulled back, displaying the night’s heavy snowstorm, when she rummaged through her drawer for her scrapbook.

It was one of those nights, those nights where that frequent sentimentality gnawed at her heart and her scrapbook was the only sedative. Sitting in front of the window, tucking her knees to her chest, and setting the book in front of her feet, Jennie opened it, fingers aimlessly letting the pages fly until it landed on a random page – a random page the same as the many other pages.

It was three polaroids, arrayed in a straight horizontal line: Jisoo adorned in a fluffy scarf and a fleece coat, with a bright eye smile and a peace sign; Jisoo’s back profile in a casual walk down the street, the action of turning over her shoulder captured with the tip of her nose peeking out her flying hair; Jisoo’s side profile, the girl’s chin tilted up as she admired the Christmas bulbs of a tree, all twinkling eyes and glowing complexion.

What’s Jisoo up to? Is she well? Has she eaten yet? Is she celebrating with her friends right now? Is she warm? Is she having fun? Is she looking at the same snow?

She sighed and shook her head. No, she wouldn’t be looking at the same snow, because she would be having fun with her friends. She wouldn’t be, right? Of course she wouldn't be.

A tiny beep sounded from her desk, snapping Jennie out her reverie. Her arm stretched up and over to the wooden surface, hand blindly searching for the device and fingers itching the pager closer once there was a feel for it. Huffing with the pager finally in her hand, the dim light of outside’s street lamps and garden decor pronounced the message clearer.

Merry Christmas - J

Her heart stopped, then it beated, then it warmed. Jennie read the message thrice over, the corners of her lips tugging into a small smile as the message inked itself into her mind. Two words. It was just two words, but it was worth more than a million diamond necklaces.

Merry Christmas, Jennie typed, thumbing the send button with no hesitation. The screen blanked and she was left in her room once again with the remnants of Jisoo in front of her.

It was lonely. This Christmas, like the seven previous ones, was lonely.

But it was a little less lonely, a little less chaotic, as the flurry of snow blurred and caked everything in its pure white. Relentless, stormy, rapid – but peaceful. However strange it was, it was peaceful because Jisoo was watching the same storm.

That was enough to comfort Jennie.

~

“I think I like you too.”

Snowflakes wafted around and between them, a blanket of soft swirls of flecks. Between the stillness of the street and the sedated drift, the world slowed down – as slow as Jennie’s mind trying to process Jisoo’s words.

“What?”

“I think I like you,” Jisoo said. “Actually, I like you. I don’t think I like you because I know I do. I do like you, Jennie Kim. I like you. I like you a lot. I like your hair and I like your eyes and I like your cute smile and I like the way your nose scrunches up when I tease you and I like the way my hand fits in yours and I like your laugh and I like your hugs and I like everything you say. I like everything about you.” She paused, taking a deep breath from lack of air, before smiling. “I like you, Jennie.”

Jennie had plenty of love confessions from schoolboys, typically partnered with flowers and their group of friends cheering them on from around the corner. They were all empty, though. Empty bouquets of infatuation and empty promises of love. But those schoolboys never struck like Jisoo because all of it was full – all those words full, raw, and sincere because Jisoo never held anything back.

Yeah, it was scary, but in the moment, Jennie couldn’t care less.

Because she was happy.

“Me too – like you too, I mean,” Jennie blurted. “I know I already said it, but I like you a lot, too, Jisoo. And –” she cleared , “– that was my first kiss.”

Jisoo’s eyebrows shot up and gaped. “Oh! I should’ve planned this out better. That wasn’t romantic at all, huh? It played out differently in my head…”

“No, it’s okay! Things like this aren’t usually planned out exactly, I think.”

They simultaneously dipped their chins, giggling as the snow collected around their sneakers. It was lame – so lame – and Jennie mentally slapped herself for such a lame confession and such a lame reaction, but Jisoo didn’t seem to mind. The girl didn’t mind a lot of things, one of the many things Jennie was grateful for because currently, she was dying from embarrassment.

“Can – can I kiss you again?” asked Jisoo. “Redo your first kiss all over? I swear I’ll do it better.”

“Ah, yeah, sure, yes,” Jennie stammered, gulping nervously. “I don’t know how to kiss, though.”

“Me neither,” Jisoo laughed. “First time for everything, right? Well, second time, but since we’re redoing it, then first time. I wung the first time, which was probably why it was bad, but I’m ready now.” She shut , catching on that she was rambling, before exhaling steadily. “Just close your eyes. Trust me?”

“Yeah.”

Always.

Jennie’s eyes fluttered shut, wetting her lips from the nervousness pounding in her heart in the brief moment of silence and blindness. A shuffle of feet neared until there was faint breathing tickling her face and the scent of vanilla. Breath hitched, the shape of Jisoo’s lips brushed over Jennie’s tentatively before it all disappeared – the final bit of space, the world around them, the cold and the fear.

All of it disappeared and it was just Jisoo and only Jisoo.

It was sure, it was soft, it was the first kiss portrayed in dramas. It was delicate, it was sweet, it was what’s expected from two girls falling in love.

Gentle.

Beautiful.

Natural.

Like the falling of the first snow.