tw : blood & injuries, weapons, minor violence

**

Jung Yerin had been an accident.

(At least at first.)

She's someone Hwang Eunbi hadn’t expected to encounter, something she hadn’t been able to calculate for.

(But later, she’s not someone Eunbi regrets. Not at all.)

A run-in with each other one time. Yerin’d pointed a gun at her, and Eunbi’d been ready to fight right back. They nearly kill each other, then, not realizing right away that they have a shared enemy they’re trying to escape from.

That led to them begrudgingly working together to escape a shared fate of getting caught or killed by the people they were running from—corrupt government with a ridiculously powerful military whose job was to stamp out any rebels or potential rebels; to get rid of anyone who might be a hitch in their plans.

("If we want to get out of here, we need to move.")

There'd been no time to go their separate ways or forget the encounter ever happened in the first place. They had to act immediately if they wanted out of there in one piece. And that's definitely what they both wanted.

Yerin calls Eunbi’s spur of the moment escape plan crazy, but still follows along anyway. Still contributes to it to make it even better and a smoother escape, and together, they both make it out of that run-in unscathed.

After that, without ever really confirming a reason why aloud, they’d somehow agreed on sticking around one another. They worked together, ran and hid together.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter how they met. Eunbi’s met a lot of people—some who made no impression on her and others who have—but none of them had ever stuck around. None of them were permanent.

Hwang Eunbi’s met a lot of people, but in the end, Jung Yerin’s the only one who’s stayed.

 

 

---

 

 

Eunbi knew nothing of Yerin when they first met, but quickly becomes acquainted with who she is. What she’s done to get herself here, in this situation, the last place anyone wants to be.

Yerin shoots a gun with the precision and accuracy only a soldier would have, moves with purpose and deftness only someone who’s been trained to would. It’s because she used to be. She’d fought for the government in a cycle of war that doesn’t seem to have any sign of stopping, until she’d disobeyed orders, got herself deemed as treasonous (and dangerous, because she'd killed to make it out of there alive.) She's been running ever since.

Eunbi's own story feels all too similar. She'd done something with her own reasons, not wanting to be ordered around for a cause she didn't believe in just because she was expected to be a piece in their games.

They’re an interesting combination, the two of them. Maybe even a lethal one. Yerin knows the military and how it works from being part of it since she was a child—as was custom for those who showed aptitude for it at an early age. Eunbi’s ridiculously familiar with the government’s inner-workings and politics, after a childhood riddled with it and a family right in the middle of it.

If things were different, if neither of them had been billed as treasonous and dangerous—committers of the unforgivable crime of speaking out and disobeying what they were ordered to do, of choosing for themselves rather than mindlessly following along—maybe they would have met there, too, under a slightly different set of circumstances. Maybe they would have fought in the war for power and control the government’s been waging for years—side by side—rather than be on an opposing side of it.

Funnily enough, even though it's gone this way instead, they've still ended up on the same side.

“You were really highly ranked,” Yerin mutters one day as they’re walking. As they’ve spent more time with each other, their conversations have become more meaningful, more like getting to know each other and, surprisingly, like they’re building a friendship between them rather than filling silences with only banter and arguing.

Although… that’s always fun, too. But Eunbi likes this different side of things. The quieter moments between them, the tentativeness of it. She can’t really put a reason to why, but she does.

“I was.” She shrugs, looking over her shoulder at Yerin.

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard someone like you left.” Yerin’s blunt, honest. She tends to call things like she sees them, say what she thinks, but she’s careful about it. Treads through situations with caution rather than barreling right through. It’s an intriguing contrast—Yerin’s rough and jagged, but considerate and careful too—and she’s ridiculously perceptive in that she understands things without them being said, knows how to approach different situations based on how she’s observed them.

It’s a good trait, a valuable one. But also annoying because sometimes Eunbi feels like Yerin’s able to see too much, understand too much about her just through simple exchanges and interactions. Just in a short time together.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I just… you’re different than I thought you’d be.”

You are too, Eunbi wants to say. You’re so much more than what I thought you’d be.

(“I’m not a bad one, you know,” Yerin mumbles one night, bringing her knees to her chest, saying the words more for herself than anyone else, it seems. Like she needs to convince herself to believe it.

Bad dreams and restless nights seem to be another thing the two of them have in common, Eunbi learns later.

At first, at the very, very beginning of all this they used to leave each other alone during nights like this. Whoever’d take watch first those evenings sitting quietly and pretending like they didn’t just witness the other displaying vulnerability, weakness in a place where they didn’t really have the luxury to let that show.

Eunbi can’t remember when things change, but suddenly they don’t pretend it’s nothing anymore. Suddenly, it’s become custom for them to sit together when moments like these happen—first silent, and later willing to talk about it as they’ve grown more comfortable around each other.

“I’ve just always done what I could to survive...” Yerin rests her head against her drawn up knees, closing her eyes tightly. “I never wanted to hurt anyone...”

“I know,” Eunbi says, not because she’s trying to comfort Yerin. It’s that too, of course, but she really does mean it. In the time since they’ve met and gotten to know each other, she’s learned that Yerin may be rough on the outside, strong and unwavering, but she has a gentle heart and kind personality. Her Origin Story™ of joining a life like this makes a lot more sense to Eunbi as she’s learned it, as she’s experienced that side of Yerin. She didn't like fighting and mindlessly hurting people just because it was her job to. Just because she was told to.)

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Hwang Eunbbi’s expecting Yerin’s answer to her question, but her heart still races as Yerin steps ahead of her—a little too quickly—and says, “Good.”

 

 

---

 

 

“I’ve been alone for a long time,” Yerin murmurs. “And it pains me to say it, but you’re not bad company.”

Eunbi laughs. “Your secret’s out.”

“Shut up.” Yerin bumps her shoulder against Eunbi’s. “I take it back. You’re not good company at all. You’re—”

“Great company?”

“Ugh.” Yerin groans, pressing her forehead against her knees. Eunbi can see her smiling, however, showing how she really feels. “Don’t put words in mouth.”

“I don’t have to when you’re smiling like that.” The exchange, Yerin’s company, everything, is making Eunbi smile too. Things may be challenging and dangerous and uncertain—always uncertain—but she hasn’t felt so happy or light in a long time. Usually, the feeling’s on account of Yerin. Lately. Always. It’s… different than anything she’s ever felt before. “You’re digging your own grave, Yerin.”

“I am not. And just so you know, I can’t stand you. I could turn on you any day now.”

“You’re a liar and you wouldn’t.” They both know that’s the truth.

“Fine. Maybe I wouldn’t.”

That’s the first time she realized, really realized that something had changed. That a future she once thought she’d spend alone, she could suddenly see with someone else now. With Jung Yerin on her side. By her side.

 

 

---

 

 

One night, they make a change in routine. Relax a little. Be free instead of just lying low and avoiding anything that might draw more attention to them.

It’s just some seedy pub on the outskirts of a town they’d been passing through. Nothing too flashy or noticeable about it, but something makes them stop there that night. Just for a little while.

The effects of war haven’t reached their fullest extent in that area yet, but nowhere is truly unscathed by it. And the two of them probably seem out of place here—tipsy from the alcohol they’d indulged in, smiling and laughing at each other, with each other too much.

Yerin’s the one who asks Eunbi to dance—or, more accurately, with inhibitions lowered from the drinking they’d done, tells Eunbi she wants to dance with her. She says it like it’s nothing, like it’s not going to embarrass Eunbi. Like this is something they always do. Something they could always do.

If things were different, that is. If they didn’t always have to be so careful. If they didn’t always have to be on guard or afraid or moving.

But if she had to choose one place to stay, one moment of quiet and freedom, careless happiness, Eunbi thinks it would be this.

This: the first time they’ve done something that has them so physically close, one of the first times Eunbi touches Yerin like this, holds her in her arms as they sway to whatever music is playing in this barely inhabited pub. Their motions carefree, comfortable—Yerin’s arms around Eunbi’s neck, the way she’d lean forward and press her forehead to Eunbi’s shoulder to steady herself when she was laughing too much to stay balanced, the gentle hands she rests on Yerin’s hips, sliding upward toward her back.

These are all things Eunbi doesn’t want to give up so suddenly.

Or ever. She doesn’t want to give them up ever.

Later, they run out of there when there’d been some complaints about them being too loud, disruptive to anyone but each other. Their hands find each other as they move, fingers intertwined. Laughter fills the spaces between them as they stumble through the night to somewhere quieter, more private.

They’re still running—like normal, like always—but this time it feels different. Lighter. Happier. Like none of the reality they’d face in the morning is real and instead is just a bad dream, a nightmare.

Maybe it’s everything leading up to now, all of the moments between them—travelling together, reluctance to be around each other slowly growing to friendship, looking out for each other and fighting by each other’s sides—or fears and inhibitions lowered by drunkenness that drives them forward, together. Maybe it’s a combination of both that keeps them from letting go of the other’s hand, still holding on just as tightly even though they’re long gone from that pub by now.

They hadn’t really been careful at all that night. Probably drew way too much attention to themselves, honestly. But it sticks out in Eunbi’s mind as the most fun she’s had in a while. She doesn’t want to go back to carefulness and constantly watching for danger, expecting and fearing it. She doesn’t want to worry about what will come next, only wants to think about this. Experience this. Right now.

Yerin. Her hand in Eunbi’s as she pulls her down to lie by her side as they settle down for the night, alone, hidden away from the rest of the world, from danger.

They can pretend it doesn’t exist, that they’ve escaped it, but even in the euphoric happiness of the evening they’d spent together, and the lingering dizzy, alcohol induced haze, Eunbi knows they haven’t. They need to think like this were any other night and watch out for themselves and each other. Keep one another safe.

When she thinks Yerin’s asleep, Eunbi pulls her hand away from where it’s been for a while now, clasped in Yerin’s own. She’s not thrilled about breaking the contact between them, but she does so anyway. One of them has to keep watch, she knows, and starts to stand and move away. But—

“Don’t…” Yerin’s mumbling quietly. Her eyes are open again, looking at Eunbi like she wants more from her. More than this. More than what they have. Everything. “Don’t leave.”

Eunbi sighs, moving to settle down next to Yerin. If they’re going to settle in for the night, one of them really needs to keep watch. Just in case they’ve been followed. Just in case something were to happen. But… for now, for a few minutes, maybe it will be alright. Maybe this will be alright instead. “I won’t.”

Yerin nods a little, her fingers threading through Eunbi’s own as they lie next to each other. Silent at first, just breaths between them, eyes on each other, then,

“Hwang Eunbi…” Yerin tests, catching Eunbi off guard. “Eunbi.”

Eunbi waits, waits for more, for whatever else Yerin wants to say. But she gets nothing.

“Yes, that’s my name…” She smiles a little, as Yerin squeezes her hand at the acknowledgment. “Did it take you that long to piece that together, genius?”

“You’re such a beautiful,” Yerin’s prattling on, pressing her lips to Eunbi’s knuckles. “God... you’re so beautiful.”

“H-huh?”

She’s never really envisioned herself with anyone in a romantic sense. Any time she’s thought of something like that, Eunbi’s either expected to be alone—for her own protection and because of all of this and honestly, because of never really desiring that with anyone. This is the first time she’s ever felt anything remotely like this with anyone, and it’s all because of Yerin.

“I said you’re—”

“Drunk,” Eunbi finishes, looking away from Yerin’s face. “You’re so drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I am not. Just a little…”

She laughs, dismissive. “More than a little... Go to sleep.”

Yerin is really drunk. She has to have no idea what she’s saying right now. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so forward, so without a filter on her words and actions. Tomorrow they’ll be right back to normal. It won’t be like this. This is just a one-time thing. That’s that.

 

 

---

 

Turns out, it’s not just a one-time thing. She and Yerin grow closer and closer, figurative distance closing more and more with each passing day. Until there’s really none left and they’re standing on this line, at the very edges of it, waiting to see who will be the first to cross it, who will be the first to acknowledge or act on what neither of them has yet. Or if either of them will…

All Eunbi knows is that she hasn’t felt this close to anyone since she’s been on the run. Actually, she hasn’t felt this close to anyone ever. Not until Yerin. Not with anyone except Yerin.

But it’s not so simple. It can’t be.

Nothing’s ever easy. Not here. Not like this. If things were different, maybe it wouldn’t be difficult. Maybe things could be normal. Easy. They’d grow closer and stick by each other’s sides and there’d be no reason to hold that feeling at arm’s length rather than fully embrace it. They’d fall for each other—kind of like they are now—except there’d be nothing to be afraid of.

It’s not like that at all, though.

Lately, even though they’ve been careful, even though they’ve been staying out of anything that might draw more attention to them, it seems like the walls are closing in on them. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to when all the exits are being blocked off, suddenly inaccessible.

They lead high-risk lifestyles—can’t stop running in fear of what might happen if they ever did, have to kill in order to avoid being killed. It’s a tired, never-ending game. Over and over and over again it’s the same. Something they can’t escape from.

Maybe to each other they’re somebodies—important and meaningful—but to everyone else they’re still just faces on wanted posters and ads—criminals in the eyes of corruption who need to be caught for what they’ve done.

There’s no escaping that distinction or that fate. No matter how much they’d like to.

And then there’s all the danger. That’s a constant reminder of it.

A constant and terrifying reminder. One too many close brushes with death is enough for the both of them, but it still terrifies Eunbi, worries her when they run into trouble they can’t escape from so easily.

She doesn't want to lose this. Not like that.

 

---

 

Yerin’s running forward, arms wrapping around her, holding her tightly before Eunbi can fully process what’s happening.

“Yerin?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What? What for?” As quickly as she’d settled into Yerin’s embrace, she’s tense again, wondering what the sudden apology is for. Aware of what they’re doing in plain sight, somewhere they’re not safe yet.

“Close call,” Yerin mutters against her shoulder. “You almost… I should’ve…”

She’d almost gotten bitten by one of the mutts the military uses to make their jobs easier. Trackers with sharp teeth and claws poised to injure with the purpose of hindering their target’s movements to make catching them easier. The government would rather have its wanted criminals alive and captured than dead.

They’re difficult to get away from, even more so if they do manage to hit you. Escaping then is basically a miracle.

“Stop. I’m alright,” Eunbi breathes, slow, as she tries to calm the anxious trembling of the older’s hands, the rapid beating of her heart. It had been a close call. Too close. Next time she might not…

It’s like Yerin knows how she’s feeling, how shaken she is and how she tries to hide it, because she keeps her arms around Eunbi, brings a comforting hand to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. They just hold each other for a moment. Only a moment before they need to move again, comfort forgotten in favor or reality.

Eunbi gives a quick squeeze to Yerin’s waist before she pulls back from the embrace. “We need to go. Before they…”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Yerin picks up her gun again, holding it tightly in one hand. She takes Eunbi’s hand in her other, pulling her forward, to her side. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I am.” Now, she wants to add. When it’s with you, I feel like I am.

But she doesn’t say so, only moves forward at Yerin’s side, ready for what they might face next.

 

---

 

 

Somewhere in the course of the night, Yerin’s fingers have tangled in Eunbi’s hair, it as Eunbi lies with her head on Yerin’s lap, eyes shut but unable to sleep. “Eunbi?”

“Hm?” She and Yerin have always been more physical with each other, touch easier to convey feelings than words are for them. But lately it seems to have grown into so much more than it’s ever been. Constant touching. More than usual and different kinds. Like they’re experimenting with what is okay, how far they can go, how much they can want without fully taking.

They both know that, per the usual, when they get too close to taking too much, they’ll just pull back, pull apart once again. And the cycle will continue until the next time. So long as they keep doing this.

“What are you afraid of?”

Everything, Eunbi wants to say. This. Dying. Losing each other. You. Everything about this. All of it. Every single bit.

But the tangled definitions of what she knows and what she wants mingle, have been blurring and bleeding into one for so long, that honesty is caught in the net of it all, what she means only filtered through brief openings of truth and vulnerability, confirmed mostly through touch and action rather than words.

Her thoughts feel foreign in , the truth easier to swallow than it is to speak it. “I’m not,” Eunbi insists. She averts her gaze from Yerin’s—although that does nothing to eliminate the sensation that having her eyes so focused on Eunbi brings—but she doesn’t pull away, can’t bring herself to break this form of contact between them. “I’m not afraid.”

At some point, they’re going to crash, unable to deny the obvious sitting between them anymore. Even though it’s available, they always avoid taking too much, don’t even address that it’s there and they could have it all. One day, it won’t be as easy to lie and avoid it. One day they’ll have to address it.

But for now, she thinks, closing her eyes as Jung Yerin’s fingers continue to run her hand through Eunbi's hair, bringing comfort and safety with every single touch she gives HwangEunbi—warm and searing and her—the lies are enough.

 

 

---

 

 

The catalyst for everything that comes next, she reconciles with herself, all takes place within twenty-four hours. When a bullet grazes Yerin’s shoulder in a narrow escape—one with so much blood and little room for safety—Eunbi very quickly and suddenly, totally and completely realizes two things.

 

(One: She can’t try to deny just how important Yerin is to her any longer.)

 

“I’m okay,” Yerin insists as Eunbi’s fussing over the already covered wound. They’d taken care of it immediately upon getting the hell out of that fight as fast as they could. Yerin’d known a nearby place they’d be safe at, for at least a little while. Somewhere kind of like a safe house that she’d known about through former connections, people she’d worked with in the past.

Eunbi shakes her head. “You took a damn bullet to the arm. Quit saying you’re okay and just… let me take care of you for once.”

“You already do,” Yerin insists. “All the time.”

“No I don’t. I—”

“Yes you do. Promise,” Yerin says again, cutting off Eunbi’s doubts. “And I really am okay. It just…” She winces a little. “Hurts a little. But I’ll live.”

She’ll live. Yeah. Yeah, she will. For now, they both will. They both are alive and here and together.

Eunbi doesn’t want to think about what happens if one of them ever isn’t. If their duo suddenly drops to running and fighting solo again.

Maybe the thought of that, of what could go wrong in the future and what had gone wrong earlier is too much. Maybe it clouds her judgement and causes her to move without thinking. Because Eunbi leans forward before she can think to stop herself, lips crashing against Yerin’s own. Quick, hurried contact between them that halts when Eunbi freezes and Yerin doesn’t react to the kiss.

Eunbi pulls back almost as quickly as she leaned forward, breaking the contact nearly right away after initiating it. “Yerin,” she sputters, searching, clawing for an explanation. For a reason. But she has none. She doesn’t—

Yerin leans in now, closing the small distance between them, curling her fingers around Eunbi’s arm, loose enough that Eunbi can pull away if she chooses to.

But she doesn’t choose to. She thinks… she thinks she’s wanted this for months. And it’s only through acting on impulse after she’d been afraid of losing Yerin that she’d taken it. That either of them had fully reached for it.

“Careful,” Yerin whispers against Eunbi’s lips when they lean back against the couch, a more comfortable position—Eunbi between Yerin’s legs, leaning forward, leaning into her, her hand on Yerin’s cheek, tilting her head upwards so they’re at a better angle to kiss; Yerin’s uninjured arm curled around Eunbi’s waist, slipping under her shirt, fingers brushing against her skin as she holds her close.

“Sorry. You okay?”

“Yes. I don’t wanna talk about a gunshot wound when you’re kissing me.” She smiles, pulling Eunbi closer to her again after she had shied away. “Mood killer, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

And that… that’s exactly what it is. A mood killer. It’s what simultaneously brought them to this situation—the reason Eunbi had acted on an impulse fear of losing Yerin and sorrow at being the reason for it—as well as it is a fear inducer. The longer they’re together, there’s more opportunity to get hurt. The closer she lets Yerin in, the more likely Yerin’s going to get hurt because of her.

And that’s… that’s not what Hwang Eunbi wants at all.

It’s the last thing she’d ever want. This had been a close enough call. She doesn’t want another like it.

 

(Two: She won’t, can’t let Yerin get hurt because of her.)

 

Being together, sticking together is comforting, but it’s also a bigger, more dangerous target that encompasses two rather than one. It’s easier to go undetected when alone rather than being a pair. As much as she enjoys and craves and, well… loves Yerin’s presence and company, she’d leave it behind if it meant there was a better shot at Yerin getting out of this. Safe and sound.

Eunbi pulls away, even if she doesn’t want to. She has to. “Wait…”

“What?” Yerin pulls back too now, eyes confused as she looks at Eunbi. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just…”

Jung Yerin’s touch is hot, burning, and Eunbi’s aware of every motion like it’s leaving a trail of fire on her skin. Her fingers slide over Eunbi’s back—probably trying to be comforting, but they do a better job of making her extra conscious of this. Of everything. Of what she shouldn’t be doing.

“You should… you should get some rest. I’ll watch first.”

Yerin sighs, but nods when Eunbi pulls away, when she turns away from her. “Looks like I lose this round?”

“You definitely lose this round.”

This had always been a game between them. Something that started when they first started traveling together, when two loners had become a pair instead. They’d bicker over who’d watch first each night, so they came up with a solution. Any time they had a run-in with the people after them, the one who came out of it with less injuries would be the one who’d take first watch.

She sits up, adjusting her position on the couch, and reaches for Eunbi’s hand, their fingers curling together. “You okay?”

Even when Eunbi pulls away, would rather be alone and in darkness rather than see Yerin hurt or worse on account of her, Yerin’s still reaching out of her. Still serves as brightness in darkness. Always.

“I should be the one asking you that…”

“I’m fine,” Yerin insists, squeezing Eunbi’s hand to punctuate that. “I’m not even thinking about that. Not after you…”

She laughs softly. “Glad I could distract you.” That’s about the only good she’s done here.

“Is that what this was?”

“No.” Eunbi lets out a frustrated sigh, resting her forehead against her free hand—the one Yerin’s not holding, still holding—tangling her fingers in her hair. “I just…”

Yerin squeezes her hand again. “Whatever you’re thinking…”

“Yeah… I know…” Eunbi trails off, but squeezes Yerin’s hand this time, so she doesn’t pull away so abruptly, cut off contact so completely when there’s nothing more that she would love to have. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

She stands up now, breaking the last thread of contact between them. And even though she smiles at Yerin—tries to—she knows that Yerin will be able to tell it’s fake and put on. Just like Eunbi knows it is. “Get some sleep, Yerin.”

“Yeah. Thanks…”

When she walks away, she almost expects Yerin to come after her. But maybe she wants to give her space. Maybe she doesn’t want to push after being uncertain where they stand now, after that kiss.

This isn’t what it should feel like after kissing the person who’s been her closest companion for months. Her only sort of break from solitude and running for her life. It shouldn’t feel like there’s a heavy weight on her heart after she’d gotten what she wanted, deep down, all along. Yerin feels the same as she does. Yerin wants her too. They could have it. They could have this.

Sorry, Eunbi wants to tell her. Sorry for everything. For what she’s done and what she thinks she’s going to do.

 

 

---

 

 

“Hey.” Yerin’s standing in the doorway, arms lifted above her head to stretch them out. She looks good like this. Smiling, cutoff sleeves that show her shoulders, that give Eunbi a clear line of vision to the gunshot wound she’d gotten last night. "You're up early."

If it weren’t for that… if it weren’t for any of this, maybe things would be different. Maybe…

This could be home.

Except it can’t be. Not right now. Not when they’re constantly at risk of losing one another.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah… I never really do either. Not like I did before all of this, anyway.” She steps forward now, looking down at Eunbi like she’s asking for permission to sit by her side, to talk to her. “Everything okay?”

Now or never. “I was just… thinking…”

“That’s never a good sign.” Yerin cracks a smile that quickly turns to a frown when Eunbi doesn’t smile or laugh back at her teasing. With a quiet sigh, she slides down to take a seat by Eunbi’s side, resting a hand on her knee. “What about?”

“That we should go our separate ways.”

Silence. Silence is the answer she’s met with. Silence, and Yerin’s hand squeezing her knee tightly. Unconsciously, almost like she doesn’t realize she’s doing it. Doesn’t realize how her reaction is both on her face and in her physical gestures. She can’t hide it.

“Is this…” Yerin starts, her question quiet, careful. “Is this about yesterday?”

Yes. That’s exactly what it’s about. And they both know it. “No.”

Still, Yerin goes along with the lie. “Then what…?”

“You haven’t thought about it before? That it’d be better to split up than it is for us to stick together?”

“I mean… yeah, I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t.” Yerin frowns, looking away from Eunbi and down at her lap. “It was that one time… a few towns back? We were staying in that old rundown building. It was my idea to hideout there. And then you almost got bitten by one of their mutts…”

“You never said anything back then…”

“Maybe I didn’t want to listen to myself? I don’t know…”

Eunbi sighs. “That wasn’t your fault, anyway.”

“And last night wasn’t yours! So quit acting like it is!”

“I’m not.” She is. “I’m just… I thought that maybe stuff like this wouldn’t happen if we weren’t together.” If they weren’t making themselves a bigger target. If they weren’t setting themselves up for more pain by gaining someone they care about losing.

“So you want to go back to being alone again because we’re safer that way?” Even as Yerin says the thought aloud, it sounds like a bad idea. But… bad ideas seem to find Eunbi more often than not. A loss of close companionship in order to gain a better chance at Yerin’s safety seems like a fair trade, though.

“My mess is my mess and you shouldn’t have to be at risk because of that. I don’t want you hurt because of me.”

“It’s not like I’m blameless in all of this. I’m in just as big a mess as you are,” Yerin mutters. That’s always been something that brought them together. Similar circumstances, trying to escape the same fate, working together so they can escape it—first out of mere convenience and later, now, because of care for and attachment to one another. “… I don’t want you to get hurt because of me either, though. You know that. But…”

“But?”

Yerin shakes her head, pulling her hand away from Eunbi’s knee. “Nothing, I guess… I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.”

Maybe she’s right.

And that had been that.

 

---

 

 

That’s how Hwang Eunbi ends up here. Alone. Apparently in an ironic twist of fate about to face the end alone.

Blood coats her fingers. Sticky and heavy on her hand as it seeps through her shirt, steady and slow from where the bullet had grazed her.

Has it been hours since they’d found Eunbi and chased her down? Minutes? Time comes in strange spurts or quickness and slowness, skips and halts.

Now it feels like it’s moving too fast. Unstoppable, now that she’s been chased into and cornered in this forest. Shot at and targeted. Normally, she could slip away from something like this, but now…

Now the wound in her side is a hindrance to quickness. Lightheaded dizziness from blood loss clouds normally clever and fast paced thoughts. Quick thinking to match the ability to back it up in a fight has always been her escape, her way out of situations like this.

But now it doesn’t seem like there will be a way out.

Now it seems like she’s stuck. Pressed against a tree, trying to conceal her labored breaths in an attempt to stay hidden. In a last ditch hope that they might miss her and leave. A final wish that this isn’t how it will all end. She’ll either get captured or be killed here. She’s just a number to them—a criminal accused of acting against the government that had to be exterminated when picked up on their radar.

This is how she’ll die. Alone.

After, she’ll just be an announcement on a daily news briefing. Another wanted by the government has been taken down. There’s no one left to care about her. No one who will miss her. Except… well… maybe…

No. She’d ended the one good thing she had. She’d pushed that away when it was growing into much more than she ever expected it to be—sweaty palms and an aching heart aren’t things that accompany being on the run and fighting for your life. Love isn’t kind to people like them. Love doesn’t seem possible in situations like theirs. Even if…

Even if that seems too far away and out of reach now.

Yerin’s probably long gone by now and somewhere better than where Eunbi is right now.

In the end, that’s what she’d wanted most… and she’d gotten it. She has it. If this is the price she has to pay for that, then she will. For Yerin, she would. Always. Always—

There’s a gunshot. Then another, and Eunbi’s eyes screw shut tight. She waits. Waits for the pain to hit. Or for their hands to grab her and drag her away. But there’s nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Except—

“Eunbi!” The hands reaching for her aren’t rough or foreign or a sign of the end. They’re careful. Too careful. Too gentle to be anyone’s but—

Jung Yerin.

“Hey. Hwang Eunbi.” Opening her eyes confirms it. Yerin really is here, crouched down by her side, frown on her lips, concern in her eyes. “We gotta hurry. I’m sure the others heard that shot.”

She merely nods, a little dumbstruck that Yerin’s here. She’s back, even after Eunbi had suggested going their separate ways after traveling together, running together for a while. She’s back, even after Eunbi had pushed her away.

Yerin’s yanking off her jacket, making quick work of tying it around Eunbi’s side, tight enough to serve as pressure to stop the bleeding. Anything has to be better than the weak press of Eunbi’s bloody fingertips. “That’s gonna have to do for now,” she mutters, sounding unsatisfied with the quick work, but already reaching for her gun again, securing it in her hand before she’s reaching out to hold Eunbi again.

“Think you can stand?”

“I’ll try...”

She laughs, quick breath of air, almost like an effort to relieve the tenseness of the entire situation. “Don’t have much of a choice.” Both hands close around Eunbi’s own, and Yerin stands. “Press your back against the tree and I’ll pull you up.”

Once Yerin’s got her on her feet, helps Eunbi sling an arm over her shoulder and supports her weight with a careful, gentle hand on her back, a huge contrast to the fierceness in her eyes as she looks around her, checking to see if they still have time before the other soldiers get here. Before they’re found, Eunbi blurts out what’s been on her mind since she discovered Yerin here is very real and not just some on the edge of death vision or wishful thinking, “I thought we were going our separate ways?”

“We were.” Yerin eases her forward, quick but careful. They have to move. “I changed my mind.”

Eunbi tilts her head back, up toward the sky as she lets out a quick laugh, the canopy of treetops covering any clear sight of it. She immediately regrets the decision, as it leaves her head spinning and her vision blurring. She’s stumbling and Yerin steadies her once again.

“You came back.”

“Yeah. I did.” She shifts, changing Eunbi’s off-balance to something more level, more centered. “Not to rush or hurt you or anything, but unless we want to die here, we gotta go.”

The nod of her head sends a rush of dizziness through her, and Eunbi’s still a little dazed and lightheaded from blood loss, but she can think clearly enough to know what they need to do. To follow the instinct to survive. “I know.”

Yerin continues, “I’d carry you if you weren’t so damn heavy.”

“I’m not heavy.”

“Haul your around and then you can talk to me later.”

Later. Later implies more. More of this. That they’ll make it out of here. That they’ll still be together despite this hitch in everything.

They don’t speak after that. Just move. Just breathe. Neither of them have to confirm with words that they need to keep their heads down and move forward until they’re at a far enough distance from this danger. Until they’ve escaped and are safe from harm again.

There are voices and loud crunches of leaves against the ground, the pound of feet against the dirt as the other soldiers glance upon the two Yerin had killed and immediately begin their search for Eunbi again.

“It’s up here,” Yerin breathes out not too much later, so quiet that Eunbi knows if their heads weren’t inches from each other due to Yerin supporting her movements, she might not have been able to hear otherwise.

“You stole a car?” Eunbi’s surprised when she sees it sitting there—concealed enough to be inconspicuous to passersby, but in a perfect location for a quick escape. It’s nothing too flashy or much of an attention-grabber. Just simplistic enough to blend in and get them to wherever they need to go fast. But still. A stolen car.

“Yeah. Just for you.” Yerin grins a little, but it fades away just as quickly as she looks behind them to see if they’d been followed. To see how close reinforcements are to catching up with them, to finding them. She opens the door, helping Eunbi inside, still careful but quick. They both know what they have to lose if they slow down. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“You have to tell me how you managed that. And how you didn’t get caught and—”

“Later,” Yerin promises, and presses a hand to Eunbi’s cheek, fingers warm and gentle and familiar, comfort in all of this. Then, softer, “I’ll tell you everything.”

The touch is gone as quickly as it’s initiated, and Yerin pulls away, shuts the door and moves again. Almost like it never happened in the first place, like Eunbi just imagined it all instead.

Hwang Eunbi frowns, looking down at the blood all over her, covering her hands and arms, seeping into the make-shift bandage Yerin’s jacket serves as. “I’m gonna bleed all over your brand new stolen car…” she mutters, half a joke, when Yerin climbs inside, starts it. And they’re off.

“Your sense of humor is terrible,” Yerin mutters, shaking her head as she looks away from Eunbi and back at the road. She hesitates, a pause in her words and motions, like she’s considering what to say next before she decides to go for it. “And I don’t care about that. All that matters is that you’re alive, you idiot.”

A pause, silence between them besides the whir of the car’s engine, the sound of its wheels gliding over the road. Eunbi searches for a response, something, anything to say, but in the end, doesn’t need to. A loud clang of a bullet against the steel frame of the car shoves them back into reality again.

Yerin looks at her, and then away again just as quickly, muttering, “Hold on tight,” as she floors it and they speed out of there. Just barely two steps ahead this time. But still ahead.

They made it out, slipped out of a terrible situation once again. Together. Because they were together. Just like always…

Why did she ever think leaving this had been a good idea again? The cloudiness of her thoughts and memories all blur together and it’s hard to remember anything beyond quick flashes of it all—running / her heart racing, pounding in her chest / the press of Yerin’s lips against her own / the scrabble of their hands and how they’d pulled each other closer / wanting more, all of it, everything / running again, running away.

She shuts her eyes as Yerin drives, leaning her head back against the seat and groaning.

“Hey. No sleeping!” Yerin reaches over and nudges Eunbi, an attempt to keep her awake. “I promise I’ll get us out of here and take care of you. Then you can sleep, alright?”

That sounds… nice. Too nice. “Mhmm…”

“Hwang Eunbi.” Yerin says her name with so much more certainty now than she had first done a few months ago. Now it’s like this familiarity had always existed between them. She takes Eunbi’s hand, further proving that, and squeezes. “Stay with me, alright?”

When she opens her eyes, she can see their intertwined hands resting between them in the space between the car seats. Eunbi’s hand is disgustingly bloody—all dried now, but still there, still evidence of everything that had happened. Yerin holds onto her hand like that’s nothing to her. Nothing at all. Like she’d hold on no matter what the circumstances were.

This time, Eunbi doesn’t let go. Doesn’t want to.

 

 

---

 

 

 

“You’re so dumb,” Yerin scolds when they’re finally, momentarily out of danger’s way. Her hands move slower now, but with purpose as she takes care of the wound in Eunbi’s side. “You’ve got to be the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

Eunbi winces, unsure of it’s from the biting words or Yerin cleaning out the gash instead. “Sorry…”

Yerin shakes her head, sighing as she looks away from her work and back up at Eunbi. “I’m not… I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself.”

“Huh?” That she hadn’t been expecting. “What for?”

“Well, actually, if I’m being honest, first I was mad at you. For pushing me away… for wanting to leave. And then… then at myself for letting you. For not fighting to stick with you. I thought about turning around. We probably weren’t that far apart, then, since it was really right after you left…” Yerin’s hands work quickly to clean out the wound, her words falling past her lips with nothing to hold them back serves as a distraction from the pain Eunbi’s feeling. “But then… then I thought you might be right. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt at all. And if being off on your own made us less of targets, I guess I was okay with that if it meant you'd be safer.”

“But you came back…?” She’s glad Yerin did. Eunbi’s not really sure where she’d be if Yerin hadn’t.

“I came back because I care about you, you idiot! Every time I tried to walk away and forget about you, I couldn’t. I kept thinking about where you were or worrying about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“You… you care about me…” It’s not a question as much as it is just wanting to repeat it aloud, to make sure she’s hearing it right. She already knows Yerin cares about her. They wouldn’t be here if she didn’t, but… to hear it confirmed aloud still catches Eunbi off guard.

“Of course I care about you!” Then, quieter, she asks, “You know that, don’t you? Did that kiss mean nothing to you?”

No. It meant everything to her. Even when she thought they should part ways because they were getting too close, she knew she could never forget what she’d shared with Yerin. How she feels about her.

“I guess I always might have thought you did. But…” It’s different when you say it. “And you know it wasn't like that. I...”

“Tell me, then,” Yerin whispers. “Tell me how it is.”

So Hwang Eunbi does.

“I thought about turning around… more than once. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you either. Worrying about you. Wondering if you were alright. And I just… I missed you. I missed being with you and talking to you and just… knowing you were here.”

“Yeah… yeah it gets kind of lonely when you go from something to nothing again.” Yerin sighs, running a hand over Eunbi’s arm. “… I missed you too.”

She laughs, a little breathless. “Look at the mess that happened because neither of us could admit that sooner.”

“It’s not so much of a mess anymore,” Yerin supplies, hopeful. “You’re alive. And alright. And we’re together again…”

“Yeah. We are.”

She doesn’t think she wants to lose that again. Wants to pull away from it. The other option may be safer in some ways, but in others, it’s not. In others, they don’t have this. Don’t have each other to hold and to laugh with. To confide in and protect.

“You still have to tell me how you stole the car,” Eunbi mumbles, later in the night, once she’s all patched up and settled, utterly exhausted from the day’s events. They seem so far away now, even though it was only a few hours ago.

She rests her head against Yerin’s chest, closing her eyes. For the first time, she’s not afraid when she reaches for Yerin’s hand, and threads their fingers together. Well, she is, because there’s no certainty or guarantee they’ll still be able to have moments like this tomorrow. There’s still no guarantee that they can escape danger every time they encounter it. But this time, Eunbi pushes that fear away, out of the forefront of her mind.

It doesn’t stop her from being afraid of losing this, of losing Yerin. But something tells her they’ll stand a better chance at preventing that if they’re together. She knows that now.

“Yeah, I will. But there’s something else I want to do first. If it’s okay…”

“What?”

She cups Eunbi’s cheek in her hand, tilts her head upwards. Their eyes meet, and even though it’s for just a quick second, the way Yerin looks at her makes Eunbi feel warm all over. She pauses, waiting to see how Eunbi reacts, what she wants to do next. And when she’s sure of what that is, Yerin leans forward and kisses her. Slower than last night, but still just as tender. With just as much emotion behind it.

This time, neither of them pull away. Neither of them try to run. They’d rather stay. Together this time.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Yerin mutters. Don’t leave again, the gentle caress of her hand says. Don’t.

“I won’t,” she promises, and this time, she means it. Really means it. “I think you might be stuck with me for a while now. Maybe forever, even.”

Whatever that ends up being for them, Eunbi isn’t sure. But they’ll take it step by step.

Yerin makes an exaggerated groan. “Really? That long?” But she pulls Eunbi into her arms, holds onto her like that’s equally plausible and possible. She doesn’t want to let go.

“Yep! That long,” Eunbi confirms, relaxing under Yerin’s touch. She doesn’t want to let go either. “So…tell me about the car?” They’d ditched it a while back in order to keep anyone off their trail, unfortunately. Just a memory in their grand escape now. “Will you steal another one for me anytime soon?”

“Quit teasing or I won’t tell you!”

But despite the threat, Yerin still tells her anyway. And even though she’d been waiting for the story, Eunbi nods off somewhere in the middle of it, her head resting against Yerin’s chest and her arms around her, lulled to sleep by Yerin talking to her.

Hwang Eunbi’s never felt more comfortable.
 

**