“Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

They lay on their own side of the bed, untouched from their bare bodies, but connected through the mere gaze of their adoration for one another. It seems that sleep was not coming any time soon, whether the moon still stayed to listen, or when the sun rose and reminded them of their reality. 

Soojin outstretched her hand in the space between them, reaching to run her fingers over Shuhua’s worried features. Her thumb traces over every curve, every wrinkle formed through the heavy concern booming through Shuhua’s expression. 

“How do I stop?” Soojin whispers. 

“Stop what?” 

Soojin’s hand pulls away, tucking back under her face for extra cushion. “Thinking… How do I stop thinking? It’s tiring, and I want it to stop.” She places her hand on her forehead, expression curling to one of extreme frustration. 

Shuhua exhales shakily, reaching to take hold of the hand pressed heavily onto Soojin’s forehead, cradling it into her own warmth and offering comfort. 

“Be calm, my love.” She brings Soojin’s hand to her lips, holding it there. 

The crystal texture of Soojin’s eyes break Shuhua’s heart into pieces, “I would give anything to be able to feel calm right now. I am anything, but.” A tired laugh leaves her lips, and just like everytime Soojin is hurt, she still tries her best to smile. 

“Baby…” Shuhua frowns. 

“I meant it before… when I told you that I was giving you an out…” Soojin slowly says, “you don’t have to be with me a-and be all… sad and stuff…” 

Shuhua’s expression hardened into a pained look. A sigh leaves her lips, and she rolls out of bed, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Shuhua…” Soojin calls for her, sitting up 

“Are you hungry?” Shuhua suddenly asks her, pulling her arms through a random hoodie she found in her closet, sweatpants already clad on her legs. 

“Shuhua—,” Soojin sighs. 

“I’m kind of hungry. Should we order some food? Or should I cook? I’ve gotten better, you know.” A small chuckle leaves Shuhua’s lips, but the shakiness in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Shuhua bites her lip, hanging her head low so she can prop the hood atop her still disheveled hair. 

“Shuhua,” Soojin fingers softly wrap around her wrist, stopping her from walking out of the room, “please, look at me.” 

Taking the hand on her wrist, and bringing it to her lips, Shuhua turns her body towards her, but never meets Soojin’s eyes. 

“I’ll cook us some breakfast. Just—, You stay right here and try to sleep. Rest, baby. Please.” Everything came out in a whisper, trying to mask away the pain in her voice. 

“Shuhua—,” Soojin tries again, but the younger woman shakes her head, silencing the latter. “Please.” Shuhua says, “just get some rest… we’ll talk again when breakfast is ready.” 

“Why don’t I cook? You should rest. You’ve just flown in from Taiwan, and—,” Shuhua shakes her head again, not even letting Soojin finish her persuasion. 

“No. I’m fine. I’m not tired.” 

Oh, what a lie. They both know it. The bags under their eyes, and the sleepless hours that had gone are evidence of Shuhua’s lie. 

What Shuhua did not want to say, is how afraid she was. How completely terrified she was to go to sleep, fearing next time she awoke, Soojin would be gone. The older woman thought that leaving quietly without Shuhua knowing was the less painful decision to act upon for the both of them, and if she was willing to do that, Shuhua is scared that she’ll just walk away when she’s completely unaware. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Shuhua was only giving Soojin her best. 

Soojin heaves a sigh, eyes following Shuhua’s haste to leave the room. Still, the younger woman hadn’t looked her in the eyes. 

Shuhua stumbles into the kitchen, hand shakily covering her trembling lips, muffling her cries from echoing throughout the apartment. She seeks for the edge of the counter for leverage, hanging her head low, lips sealed tight from letting sobs escape from her. 

She hears the light steps emerging from her bedroom, and she in a breath, wiping at her eyes harshly, and clearing of any sense of tears. 

Shuhua doesn’t expect arms to wrap around her so soon, embracing her from behind, and lips pressed firmly against the fabric of her hood. 

“I’m sorry.” Soojin whispers, tightening her hold around the younger woman. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.” Her voice cracks, and a sob escapes her lips. 

Shuhua shuts her eyes, shaking her head. 

“I don’t want you to suffer with me. I don’t want you and the girls to suffer too.” Soojin reasons, body shaking against her as her tears started to free flow once more. 

It takes a while for Shuhua to respond, knowing her words won’t come out as stable and coherent as she would want it too with how tight lipped she was from holding in her cries. 

“What… What do you want me to do?” Shuhua turns around to face Soojin, but she steps away to distance herself, feeling absolutely small in her skin. “You tell me you love me, but everything you’re doing… everything you’re saying… tells me…” she pauses, a sob breaking out, “it tells me that you don’t want to be with me.” 

“Shuhua..” 

The younger woman shakes her head, “no… no, you can’t use the excuse of your situation. It’s… T-This is different.” 

Soojin shuts her eyes, “is it?” 

Shuhua looks at her in disbelief, “yes.” And her expression turns angry, and she doesn’t know what, but it wasn’t at Soojin. She could never be. 

“This is about me and you, and how you won’t allow yourself to be taken care of, to be loved by me, your girlfriend, and by everyone who cares about you, just because a bunch of no faces, who don’t even know you like I do, tell you that you don't deserve it.” 

Soojin takes in every word, and it breaks every part of her. 

“It’s okay, love…” Shuhua tells her, taking a shaky breath in, “it’s okay to fall into a state where you need to be vulnerable. This… our job.. being in the public eye, it’s not easy.” 

She reaches for Soojin, forcing a watery smile, as she gently wipes away Soojin’s tears. “Just let us be there for you. You are not a burden, if that’s how you feel. This is about you, not us. This is happening to you, not us. This is your experience. So stop,” she pulls the older woman closer, “stop thinkin