Yoohyeon’s tummy gurgles—it’s been a long day for her and the smell coming from the warm pizza box in her lap is tantalizing. 

It was supposed to be a nice and calm night out in the city. She had planned to have a walk to her favorite cafe, spend some time with Yubin after her shift at her pizzeria, and get dragged along to some bar with Bora where the latter would drink more than she should and end up a clumsy and chaotic drunk. Then, she’d ride with Bora in some taxi and tuck her into bed before passing out on her couch. 

Except, Bora had other plans. 

Siyeon, Bora’s girlfriend, had surprised her after work with something ridiculous that Yoohyeon couldn’t quite catch. 

“Yooh, Singnie showed up at the studio in full goth gear. Like, black clothes from head to toe, eyeliner blacker than black, black lipstick, a stuffed crow, and black hair. She literally just went blonde and now she’s back to black! I guess she wants to take me to some kind of metal concert tonight?”

Yoohyeon wants to ask about the stuffed crow but figures she’d only wind up more confused. She could forgo asking. 

“But, you hate metal?”

As Bora talks, Yoohyeon can hear her dragging pout through the phone, “I do. But I can never say no to her.”

“Also Singnie got me some, like, gothic queen clothes to wear too so-”

“You’re wearing it now, aren’t you?”

“...Yes.”

Yoohyeon laughs into the line, fondly. Teasingly. (Bora used to side eye the emo goths at their old high school, unable to understand the appeal of all that black and loud, banging music. For Yoohyeon, it’s the irony of it all—that Bora would eventually fall hopelessly in love with a lovely gothic lady. And that Bora would do absolutely anything for said lovely gothic lady).

“Have fun being Singnie’s gothic queen, Bboya.”

Bora laughs too, shakes her head in happy disbelief at what has become of her. (It’s not like she hates being Siyeon’s girlfriend. She loves being loved by her—loves everything about her. Gothic tendencies and all).

“We’ll rain check on drinks tonight. Maybe next week? We need to celebrate your promotion!”

“Does that mean you’re gonna carry me home?”

Bora flatly says, “No.” 

Except when Yoohyeon finishes the call, a text pings her phone, a sweet, “Always, Yooh 💕” from Bora. 

Yeah, Bora might bite her more than she likes. And scream into her ear more than should be healthy. But, Bora runs over to cook for Yoohyeon when she complains about being hungry and she makes sure she gets through each night alive and alright. (And on days where Yoohyeon isn’t alright, Bora likes to cuddle her and run her hands through her hair and softly sing the song her mother used to sing for her when she was a kid and needed comfort).

Work had been hard today and she was really looking forward to drinking beer and letting Bora distract her from all of her stress. 

But, Bora deserves a night with her girlfriend. And Yoohyeon isn’t about to drag Yubin into drinking with her. Not just because Yubin doesn’t drink. But because she’d feel awful pulling her away from the book that she has been reading just to watch over her friend getting buzzed. 

Still, Yoohyeon supposes that spending four more hours than planned at Yubin’s pizzeria talking with Gahyeon and Handong is just as pleasant.

The subway softly shakes with a comfort that takes away the buzz of the city. It’s late now, much later that the subway doesn’t crawl with people. Just the random city dweller dressed in an abundance of layers at the seat furthest from Yoohyeon and the two drunk girls leaning on each other and blissfully laughing at nothing together. (Yoohyeon hopes that they’ll get home safe).

She’s four stops away from her drop off point. She hopes her pizza won’t get cold until then. She’s tempted to open the box and sneak a slice to eat but refrains. Something about unnecessarily testing her restraint. 

As the subway stops with a soft jolt, the two girls nearly tilt over—Yoohyeon can’t help the small smile that lifts her lips at the mess ahead of her. That has been Bora and her for more nights than she can remember. 

Catching her gaze like a spotlight when she steps through the doors, a lady with purple hair all but falls into her seat with her face in her hands. It’s not just the blaring distress radiating from her body in crushing waves that concerns Yoohyeon. It’s the beautifully white wedding dress whose gems glitter under the fluorescent subway lights that makes Yoohyeon’s eyebrows raise. (She’s lived in the city long enough to have seen a frightening amount of strangers’ breakdowns that this sight of stress is nothing new. The wedding dress, however, is new). The bottom of her dress is dirty, black from the trek she took to the subway. 

It’s obvious that this woman has had a bad night. Yoohyeon feels much better that hers couldn’t have possibly been as devastating. 

The woman’s shoulders shake and if Yoohyeon strains her ears, she can hear quiet hiccups and the snotty sniffle of her nose. 

Som