As time has passed, years spent living in separate places, Jeong Eunha thinks that she and Hwang Eunbi have grown used to maintaining their friendship over the distance that stretches between them, between the different paths their lives have taken in Japan and Korea.

It’s not always easy, but any time they’re together again after so long spent apart really doesn’t feel like they’re scrambling, racing to make up for lost time. Instead, it’s like they haven’t missed anything at all. There are no awkward pauses or uncomfortable silences. They just fit together like they always have, almost like nothing has changed despite spending so much time apart.

But there is one thing that has changed over the years. Months and months apart before they finally see each other again has definitely made them touchier, more casually intimate with touch than they’d ever been before. And those lines blur more and more the longer they do this, as more time passes. It’s easy to get swept up in all of that, to forget they’re walking this fine line and weird interim between friendship and becoming a couple. A simple moment like Eunbi grabbing her wrist so they don’t get separated in a crowd, ends with shifting their hands so their palms brush, fingers locking together. They gravitate towards the same space—choose to sleep in the same bed, often wake up tangled up with each other. And when Eunha has to leave in a few days, she knows she’ll be able to feel Eunbi’s touch linger on her skin long after it’s gone, as she craves it again and again until the next time she can have it when they’re together again.

This time is no different. They sit on the beach in Seoul under the setting sun, laughing, jokingly bickering with each other, so caught up in the moment, they don’t catch how close together they are.

It’s just like all of the times when they were kids, when they were teenagers, and Eunbi had made Eunha laugh so hard she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She’d press her forehead to Eunbi’s shoulder, then, grip her shirt tightly to hold herself upright as they’d laughed uncontrollably about something funny that had happened or a dumb joke only the two of them understood.

“Eunbi!” Eunha screeches, laughter loud when Eunbi kicks sand onto her legs in response to Eunha shoving her shoulder. And Eunha retaliates, of course, by throwing sand onto Eunbi.

They grapple with each other, and Eunha’s back hits the ground, laughing as she grabs onto Eunbi, dragging her down with her.

But when their laughter dies down, it’s like something’s shifted this time, as they realize how close they actually are, how they’ve landed and how they’re touching each other.

Eunbi leans over her, Eunha’s arms wrapped around her neck, clinging to her. It’s too close, too intimate. Their hands on each other and faces only inches apart, a gap just waiting to be closed.

They’d done this stuff all the time growing up. Always ended up so close that outsiders thought there was more to them than only friendship. And they’d always ignored that feeling, that truth, in favor of pushing it aside never to be addressed, never to be acted on.

But now, years later, pent up emotions and longing have crashed forward like the ocean’s waves on the sand. Now, they spend more days apart than together. Longing, unspoken feelings neither of them seem to have any intention of speaking aloud linger behind every touch, every interaction. They take just enough, but then draw back, act as if it never happened in the first place.

“You okay? Sorry, I…” Eunbi trails off, her thumb brushing over Eunha’s cheek, pushing some stray sand off of her face. The touch is so tender, so warm and familiar that Eunha doesn’t want it to end. Doesn’t want this to fade to nothing, this moment to be forgotten in favor of slipping back to the start so they can continue to run in circles, wanting, but never taking. Over and over again.

Her breath hitches as she takes in how close they are, how Eunbi doesn’t pull her hand from Eunha’s face. The touch lingers, like Eunbi doesn’t want it to end either.

Eunbi’s always been the steady, constant hand on her shoulder, the person who stands by her side and who Eunha always wants by her side, who she wants to share everything with. Eunbi is blue skies and golden sunlight and home. And Eunha’s never wanted someone so much. She’s never loved someone so much.

Without really thinking about it, fully caught up in the moment and their closeness, her fingers curl in Eunbi’s shirt, and Eunha yanks her closer, surges upwards to close that gap and press their lips together.

It’s quick, forceful and a mess. Sand is everywhere, her hands squeeze Eunbi’s shirt so tightly it’s probably rumpled and stretched out. Their noses bump, and it’s a little off-center, but Eunbi still returns the kiss. Presses closer and cups Eunha’s cheek, holds her like she doesn’t want to let her go.

And it’s everything Eunha’s ever wanted, everything she’s ever longed for.

Over the years, she’s taken so many leaps—moving to Japan right after high school, choosing to accept the offer to become a citizen there a few years later. And that had been scary, terrifying in the beginning, even though they had been the right choices for her.

But there’s something about taking a leap over the line of friendship and romance with her lifelong best friend that’s always been even more terrifying than stepping into a foreign country all alone at eighteen.

Even if she wants this so much, even if Eunbi kisses her back and wants this too, Eunha begins to doubt. What if they change when they pull apart and it’s not for the better? What if this was a mistake?

So she pulls back, worried that she may have messed this up. Afraid and scrambling for an excuse as she pushes Eunbi’s shoulder, tries to push her away when Eunha’s the one who had pulled her so close in the first place.

“Sorry, Eunbi. I shouldn’t have…”

Eunbi frowns. Eunha’s eyes dart away from her, afraid of what she might see, of what this might mean. “Huh? What are you sorry for?”

“I…” She turns her head away, looking off to the side. “I don’t know. I just…”

Eunbi sighs. “You’re gonna try to say it was a mistake, aren’t you?”

“You don’t think it was?” Isn’t that why they’ve been avoiding taking this leap for so long? Isn’t that the thing holding them back from finally just saying damn it and kissing? Because they don’t want to wreck what they’ve always had? Because they don’t want to hold each other back from reaching wherever they’re meant to go? Because the terrifying thought of trying to navigate a long-distance relationship between two countries could ruin them?

Eunha knows she’d rather live with longing and yearning wrapped around her actions than to wake up without Eunbi in her life. She’d rather never have this than to turn around in a few days to go back to Japan, leaving everything awkward and stilted and a mess between them because of a simple action in the heat of the moment.

Eunha knows she wants this—Eunbi’s touch and everything that comes with it. If she could have it, she wants it. But part of what’s held her back for so long is she’s felt she doesn’t deserve to send waves crashing through their friendship like this. She shouldn’t get to shake their foundation like this when she’s the one making this distance between them essentially permanent by choosing to continue to build her life and career in Japan. Eunbi should want to run the away from any type of future with Eunha, who could never give her anything normal or close or constant because of all the distance that separates them.

Even though Eunbi’s always supported everything Eunha had done, and Eunha has always done the same in turn, she can’t help but worry that she asks Eunbi for too much, and that one of these times she’ll go too far and lose Eunbi for good.

And she’s held back for so long, kept herself and her feelings in check, only to mess that up in one quick moment. An action done without thinking when she was caught up in the moment.

“Eunha.” Eunbi’s free hand rests on her cheek, tries to lift Eunha’s head so she’ll face her instead of looking away. “Hey, eonnie. C’mon, look at me.”

“I’m afraid, Hwang,” she answers honestly, heart pounding in her chest, her galaxy eyes squeezed shut at the thought of losing her best friend. At the thought that if this was a mistake or doesn’t work, they could be a broken promise. Nothing but a memory of when she’d ed it up, everything that came before just like crumpled photos in an album, bent from being gripped too many times, taken out over and over again to remember something that’s no longer there, something so far in the past it’s only meant to collect dust rather than bloom.

“God, Eunha. I’m not something to be afraid of. Please look at me.”

She does. She finally does, turns her head so she’s looking up at Eunbi hovering over her. And she doesn’t see hesitance or uncertainty. Just warmth and love, and Eunbi’s smiling. Smiling at Eunha, cradling her cheek so gently.

“Eunbi…?”

“Understand now?” She brushes a thumb over Eunha’s cheek. “I’d never think that you’re a mistake. I’ve wanted to do that for so long, but I didn’t want to lose what we always had, so I pushed how I felt aside. You’ve always been braver than me, though, Eunha. So much braver.”

Eunha shakes her head. That’s not true at all. “I was afraid too, Eunbi. I have been for a long time, but you’re not the one who tried to run away after kissing me.”

Eunbi’s the one who has never let Eunha stand alone when faced with something she’s terrified of—when she thought she’d never be good enough for anything, for anyone; when she questioned herself and her abilities and all of her decisions. And maybe this is similar. When Eunha took a leap she thought was too much, then tried to reel herself back, Eunbi had reached for her and pulled Eunha back to her side, caught her when she’d been afraid of falling.

Maybe they make up for when the other is afraid of something. Maybe they have enough faith in each other that it overcomes any doubts they have about themselves.

Somehow, they’re always better when they’re together, like they can take on anything they set their minds to. They’ve always made each other want to be better, have always pushed each other to grow into who they’re meant to become.

“Yeah, but no matter what, we’ve got each other.” Eunbi says, like she knows what Eunha had been thinking. Her hand slides through Eunha’s hair. “That’s never gonna change. Promise.”

This is the same face she’s known all her life, promising her that despite being afraid of what could happen in the future, nothing will change between them. This is same face Eunha’s been in love with since she was a teenager. The love she’s always felt for Eunbi has become more overwhelming over time, more tangible, now that they hold each other’s hearts within their hands between them like this. No more barriers, no more secrets. Eunbi is someone Eunha trusts with anything, with everything.

If distance is something to be afraid of, then really, they’re the ones who could make it work against any odds. They will. No matter how difficult it may be. No matter how long they have to navigate it.

“I love you, Hwang Eunbi.” Eunha reaches up, cradles Eunbi’s cheeks in her hands before she leans in, kisses her for the second time.

This time it isn’t quick and all at once, a surge to smash their lips together, an action done without thinking. It’s deliberate, warm and devoted and gentle. A promise.

I never wanted to let her go; I was facing with something I'm terrified of. But It’s deliberate, warm and devoted and gentle even 

“I love you too,” Eunbi says when they pull apart, breathless, foreheads pressed together.

So Eunha lets herself fall this time, when Eunbi pulls her closer, kisses her again. Again and again and again. Because she trusts and loves Eunbi with all of her heart, knows that in any circumstance, Eunbi will be there to catch her, and that’s always been stronger, brighter than any fear she’s ever had.

“I promise too, y’know,” Eunha says later as they decide to go back to Eunbi’s apartment. Eunbi helps her to her feet after a while, when it’s finally starting to get dark out. “I’m always gonna be here for you. I always want to be with you.”

And no amount of distance or time is ever going to change that.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” Eunbi grins, squeezing Eunha’s hand. “Even when you’re a mess and covered in sand.”

“That’s your fault. Not mine.” Eunha tries to brush herself off. “You started it when you kicked sand at me.”

“I’m kidding. I think you’re beautiful, even with all the sand,” Eunbi says quietly, hands pressed to Eunha’s hips. Then, a little more serious than the teasing from before, her cheeks a little red as she says, “You’re gorgeous.”

Her cheeks heat up at Eunbi’s words, at the suddenness of them and the realization that now Eunbi can say things like that to her all the time. And Eunha can do the same in return. God, she’s never going to get tired of this. “Eunbi…”

“What? That embarrasses you?” The tone of Eunha’s voice gives her away, and Eunbi leans closer, close enough to pull her into another kiss if Eunha wants to shut down the playful teasing. “I know pretty much every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in your life, and being called beautiful is what gets you?”

“Shut up.” Eunha smiles, shoving Eunbi’s shoulder. “I think I’ve just always wanted to hear you say that for so long that I wasn’t expecting it. But I’m never gonna complain about you giving compliments to the love of your life."

“The love of my life,” Hwang Eunbi repeats, catching the older’s hand in her so they can finally head back to her apartment together, reading old memories and laughing together, hand in hand this time instead of just walking side by side. Fingers intertwined like they’re kids again, twisting pinkies together to swear their whole hearts on a promise, never meant to be broken. “Yeah, I think I can get used to that too.”

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