one
give us a chance (please)Yeji is six years old when she starts to wonder about the thin, narrow handwriting on the inside of her wrist.
“That’s what your soulmate will say to you when you first meet them,” her mother tells her, when Yeji asks.
“Here’s...your...latte. Don’t…forget your...straw?” Yeji reads haltingly, one stubby finger moving across the letters. Her brow furrows. “What’s a latte?”
Her mother laughs, kissing the top of her head. “You’ll find out when you’re older.”
Yeji frowns, dissatisfied. “What’s a soulmate?”
“A soulmate is someone you’re destined to be with,” her mother says, “someone who will understand and love you unconditionally.”
“Like you and papa?”
“Yes.” Her mother looks affectionately over to the living room, where her father is watching the news. “Like me and papa.”
Yeji can’t wait.
“So, we’re meeting at a coffee shop again.”
Yeji can only shrug sheepishly.
“I think we’ve been to all the coffee shops in Seoul by now,” Jisu says wryly. “Still haven’t met your soulmate.”
“Still haven’t met yours, either,” Yeji retorts.
The words Aren’t you cold? rest on Jisu’s collarbone in small, neat lettering.
“Okay, okay.” Jisu prods her forearm. “Go order. Maybe you’ll get lucky this time, and then you can stop spending so much of your money on lattes.”
Yeji winces. “Thanks for the reminder.”
She gives her order to the bubbly, bright-eyed cashier, who calls out to the barista behind her, a latte please, Ryujin!, and waits patiently.
Okay, so maybe she does have a bit of a problem.
As soon as she was old enough to figure out what a latte was, she started frequenting different coffee shops and cafés to see if she could, by some serendipitous miracle, encounter her soulmate. She’d drink her latte and stare searchingly at the baristas and her fellow customers, wondering if it could be any of them, until inevitably someone would get creeped out by her staring and she’d have to stop.
When she came to Seoul for university, she roped Jisu into her endeavours (sometimes willingly, sometimes not). In their first year, they visited this very coffee shop, nestled in the heart of the university, but had no luck.
At least the coffee is good, if nothing else. Yeji would know, given that she’s tried lattes from many, many different coffee shops.
The little bell sitting on the counter rings, signalling that an order is ready, and Yeji makes her way to the counter.
“Here’s your latte. Don’t forget your straw.”
Yeji’s heart jumps into , and she looks up and meets the prettiest brown eyes she’s ever seen.
The barista raises an eyebrow when she doesn’t say anything. “‘Cause we’re all out behind the counter. There are straws over there.”
She points, but Yeji’s eyes remain glued to her.
After a beat, the barista her head, soft hair falling to frame her face. “Hello…?”
Yeji mercifully finds her voice. “Is it you?” she whispers.
The barista’s lips press together. She looks at Yeji for a long moment.
“Oh,” she says, finally.
Yeji doesn’t know what to do with her hands, suddenly. “Um, do you—do you want to—”
She flounders. The barista takes pity on her.
“Yuna, I’m stepping outside for a while,” she says to the cashier, hands reaching behind her to deftly untie her apron. Yeji tries not to stare.
Her eyes snap back to the barista’s face as she motions to the door. “Come on. Let’s talk outside.”
Her soulmate’s name is Ryujin, and she’s in her first year of university.
She’s a little shorter than Yeji is, and her voice is surprisingly deep. (Yeji likes it a lot.)
She wants to tell Ryujin a hundred different things, ranging from you’re beautiful to you don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you, but she makes the mistake of looking into Ryujin’s eyes again, and finds it very difficult to say anything at all.
Ryujin’s lips part—not that Yeji is watching—and she exhales quietly.
“Look,” she says, and Yeji leans forward eagerly.
“It’s nice to meet you, but I don’t think I’m really cut out for the whole soulmates thing. I’m sorry.”
It takes a while for the words to register. “You...what?”
“Sorry,” Ryujin repeats. “I don’t really believe in that kind of thing.”
Her whole world grinds to an unpleasant halt.
“Oh,” Yeji says faintly. Her nails bite into the skin of her palm. “Can I ask why?”
“It just seems a little dumb to me to be with someone forever just because of a few words on my skin.” Ryujin shrugs.
“Can’t we at least get to know each other?” Yeji asks quietly. “And then you can decide whether you want to be with me or not?”
Ryujin looks at her. “Sorry,” she says, again. “Soulmates are more trouble than they’re worth.”
“What makes you say that?”
Ryujin doesn’t answer. Yeji looks at her feet and tries to swallow past the lump in .
“Your soulmate could be someone else,” Ryujin offers. “Our first words to each other were pretty generic.”
Yeji sticks her left hand out. The narrow letters sit on her wrist mockingly, the dark ink stark against her fair skin. “Is this your handwriting?”
Ryujin’s gaze flicks towards her wrist, then back to her, disinterested. “Maybe? Handwriting like that isn’t uncommon.”
Yeji lets her hand fall limply to her side.
Ryujin’s face softens, just a fraction. “Look, you’re obviously into the whole soulmates thing. You seem like one of those romantic types. Your soulmate must be someone else, one that’s more compatible with you, you know? Not...”
She gestures vaguely at herself.
Yeji doesn’t want to imagine anyone else being her soulmate, now that she’s seen Ryujin.
“Maybe,” she agrees weakly, for lack of something better to say.
“I have to go back in. Yuna’s probably stressed handling orders by herself.”
“Okay.”
Ryujin heads back into the shop after sparing her one last glance. The glass door swings shut behind her with a merry tinkle, leaving Yeji standing in the autumn chill with little else but the bitter disappointment churning in her gut.
Yeji doesn’t usually cry.
She doesn’t, prefers taking long walks instead, they’re cathartic compared to the fruitless cycle of crying and then feeling even worse.
But as Jisu’s arms slip around her, she finds traitorous tears leaking out of her eyes, wetting her friend’s expensive cardigan.
“Maybe it’s not her,” Jisu soothes, catching her tears with a gentle finger as they streak down her face.
“But—” Yeji doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to tell Jisu that she hopes it isn’t Ryujin and she still has a chance at having a soulmate who wants her, that she hopes it is Ryujin because she was lost the moment she looked into her eyes.
“We’ll visit every coffee shop there is in Korea,” Jisu promises, but Yeji is only half-listening, thinking about Ryujin’s words from earlier.
She knows there are rare occasions of soulmates who don’t eventually work out. She knows that soulmate tattoos don’t necessarily guarantee two people will be together.
She knows, she knows, she knows.
She thinks she’d at least liked to have tried.
The universe must be playing some sort of cosmic joke on her, because there is no way her not-soulmate has applied to be on the same university radio show she’s on.
Yeji inhales sharply and looks away, trying to make herself scarce behind one of the other students.
(It doesn’t work.)
“You can join Yeji in the booth on Tuesdays and Thursdays, she’s the only one who doesn’t have a co-DJ,” their president, Seungwan, tells Ryujin.
Their gazes meet. Ryujin looks about as apprehensive as Yeji feels.
If Ryujin isn’t her soulmate, this shouldn’t be a problem. Right? Right.
She can be professional.
Yeji plasters what she hopes is a welcoming smile on her face. “Sure.”
The campus radio booth is Yeji’s safe haven, where she can unwind for a quiet night shift after back-to-back classes and play mellow songs for easy listening.
It’s also far too cramped for two people to sit side by side for her liking.
Yeji’s elbow bumps Ryujin’s side again, and she mutters an apology.
Ryujin says nothing.
“So we can alternate our playlists, you can take Tuesdays and I can take Thursdays? Or the other way around?” Yeji eyes her, clicking and unclicking her pen.
“Tuesdays are fine with me.”
“Right. Okay.” Yeji lays down her pen. “There’s also this thing I do in between songs, where I let listeners call in and say anything they want, like request songs or ask for advice. I’ll keep doing it on Thursdays, but it’s up to you what you want to do on Tuesdays.”
“Okay.”
“And our listeners can also leave messages online instead if they want to stay anonymous, or if they just don’t want to call in.”
“Okay.”
“This button lets you mute your mic, and these are the volume sliders for people who call in. That will be your mic, and this is mine.” Yeji points at each of them in turn.
Ryujin’s eyes follow her finger, but she doesn’t say anything else.
“Do you...have any questions?”
Ryujin shakes her head.
“Do you know what you’re going to be doing on Tuesdays?”
A nod.
“Okay…” Yeji feels a prickle of frustration at her continued reticence. “Well. I guess I’ll start for the day, then.”
It’s the most awkward hour in the booth Yeji’s had to endure.
She spends an obligatory minute introducing her reluctant new co-host, before launching almost immediately into her playlist, grateful to drown herself in the soothing tones of familiar music.
It doesn’t help that she keeps noticing the stray lock of hair that keeps falling in Ryujin’s eyes, her slender fingers idly playing with her pen, the way her eyes light up a little whenever she recognises a song off Yeji’s playlist.
They’re sitting close enough for her to catch occasional whiffs of Ryujin’s shampoo, especially when she runs a hand through her hair. Yeji smells lavender with just a hint of lemon, and it bothers her how much she likes it.
The dial tone rings shrilly in the space between them, indicating an incoming call. Yeji accepts it with no small amount of relief, grateful for a distraction.
“You’re speaking to Yeji and Ryujin, tell us what’s on your mind,” she says cheerfully into her mic.
“Hi! My name's Chaeryeong, I'm a freshman. Can I request a song?” The caller’s voice is soft, pleasant.
“Of course!” Yeji says, adding it to the queue with a quick swipe.
“And—I’m calling today because I always hear you give good advice to listeners, Yeji,” the caller says, and hurries to add, “Ryujin’s good too, but I’m friends with her and I’ve probably talked too much about this already.”
“Go on, we’re listening,” Yeji prompts.
At least, she hopes Ryujin’s listening.
“I haven’t found my soulmate,” the caller says. “And I’m not sure if I’m ever going to.”
Yeji’s smile suddenly seems too wide. Her pen stills between her fingers.
“The problem is that my tattoo is so generic,” the caller continues. “It just says oh, wow, hi. I don’t even know where to look! And I know that some people go their whole lives without ever meeting their soulmate.”
Beside her, Ryujin shifts in her seat, a little restlessly.
Yeji wants to bury her face in her hands.
But she has a job to do. And she can be professional.
“Well,” she says, as brightly as she can, “first of all, you have an adorable tattoo. Your soulmate’s going to be blown away when they see you.”
“Thanks.” The caller sounds shy.
“If you don’t know where to find your soulmate, you could always start by trying to meet new people,” Yeji suggests. “Go to parties, join campus orgs, talk to people in your classes, that sort of thing.”
She can see a myriad of supportive messages starting to pop up on their forum, telling the caller not to give up and suggesting places to meet new people. The community she’s managed to build is one of her favourite parts of campus radio. She smiles to herself, almost forgetting that she’s not alone in the booth.
Then Ryujin shifts again in her seat beside her, chin in the palm of her hand. Yeji tilts her head towards the mic in a silent question.
Ryujin shakes her head.
Yeji suppresses a sigh and continues talking.
“It’s good to remember that we’re still young,” she finishes. “You still have plenty of time to meet your soulmate.”
She can’t help the little bubble of envy in her gut. At least the caller has a soulmate who wants her, if her tattoo is anything to go by.
“Thanks, Yeji,” the caller chirps. “I think I needed to hear that.”
“No problem.” Yeji tries to smile. “Bye!”
The caller hangs up, and Yeji leans back in her seat.
She spends the rest of the hour suffering through her playlist of infuriatingly soft love songs.
“So...see you next Tuesday? Was everything okay today? Anything you’re confused about?”
“Nah. See you,” is the mumbled answer. Ryujin’s hand is already on the doorknob.
Yeji squeezes her pen in between her fingers. “You know, we’ll be paired up for a year at least. We should start working together,” she says, lightly.
Ryujin’s hand pauses on the doorknob. “We are working together,” she says, after a brief pause.
“You know what I mean.” Yeji eyes her, but Ryujin doesn’t say anything in response.
She sighs, drained from the tiresome hour spent being wary of Ryujin’s every move. “This isn’t what co-hosting is supposed to be. We should interact with each other during shows, especially when we’re talking to callers.”
“Why can’t you just do your own thing on Thursdays and I’ll do mine on Tuesdays?”
“We can.” Yeji shrugs. Her annoyance level ticks up a notch. “If you want Seungwan to decide we don’t work well together. And probably split us.”
Ryujin meets her eyes, and Yeji realises belatedly that it’s probably exactly what she wants.
She lets out a half-incredulous scoff, irritated at Ryujin’s general unresponsiveness, irritated that she’d risk the campus radio for personal issues, but most of all irritated at how despite everything Yeji still finds herself inexplicably drawn to her. “You said it yourself, we probably aren’t even soulmates, right? So what’s your problem?”
Ryujin looks away.
Yeji pushes past her and leaves the booth before she can say something else she’ll regret.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at her.” Yeji stares down at her hands, twists them in her lap. “Right?”
Jisu hums. “I can see why you did. She should’ve kept whatever was between you two out of the recording booth.”
Yeji sighs, leaning back against Jisu’s bed frame. She thinks so too, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling any less guilty about it.
“But won’t it be good if you get split up?” Jisu says. “Then you won’t have to deal with her anymore.”
She doesn’t want to explain the dull panic that seizes her insides at the thought.
“I think I’ll just try and make it work,” she says evasively.
Yeji’s recited what she wants to say in her head a hundred times over, pacing up and down in the cramped recording booth, pen gripped tightly between her fingers, but it doesn’t prepare her for the moment Ryujin opens the door and walks in.
She takes one look at Ryujin, dressed in an oversized sweater, honey-blonde hair falling softly around her shoulders, and all her pre-rehearsed words go flying out of her head.
“Hey,” she says faintly.
Ryujin gives her a jerky head nod in greeting. She settles into her seat while Yeji fumbles with her words.
“Ryujin,” she begins, trying not to gulp at the way Ryujin’s dark eyes flick to hers. “I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I know this is an awkward situation for both of us.”
“It’s okay,” Ryujin says quietly, after a brief pause.
“I know hosting with me is probably the last thing you want to do,” Yeji says, staring resolutely at the stretch of wall beside Ryujin’s head and trying to ignore the twinge in her heart at the words. “But it won’t look too good to Seungwan if this is your first time hosting and you have to be reassigned. Um. We’re probably not soulmates, right? So maybe we can put all of this behind us and start anew?”
She tries to smile, and sticks out her hand. “We don’t have to be soulmates, but maybe we can be friends?”
Her hand dangles in the air between them for a few beats. For one brief, terrifying moment, Yeji thinks Ryujin is just going to leave her hanging. Then—
“Okay.” Ryujin puts her hand in hers.
Warmth blooms across her skin. Ryujin's palm is unimaginably soft against her own. Yeji is hyperaware of her pulse thudding in her ears, the weight of Ryujin's thumb resting lightly just above her wrist bone. She's heard accounts of how touch between soulmates is enhanced, and she can't stop thinking about what this means, whether Ryujin felt what she did, whether she was imagining things—
But Ryujin is looking at her, her gaze a touch wary, and Yeji pulls herself back to reality with a great degree of effort.
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah.” Ryujin gives her a small, tentative smile. “You’re right. We should try to work together.”
“Great,” Yeji exhales, relieved. She drops Ryujin’s hand before she can think too much about how it's soft and warm and she’d like to keep holding onto it.
“I should apologise too. I was acting kind of…”
“Like an ?” Yeji says, before she can stop herself, tongue loose in her relief. Her hand flies to .
Ryujin lets out a laugh. “It’s okay. You can say it. I kind of was.”
“I mean, I was kind of forward when we met,” Yeji admits. “I can see why you’d be scared off.”
Ryujin looks at her. “Not really. You were the right amount of forward for someone meeting their soulmate. People usually are.”
“Ah—not soulmates, remember?” Yeji reminds her.
Another small smile. “Right. Not soulmates.”
Yeji smiles back crookedly, in spite of the small, unbidden ache in her chest.
Her eyes catch the time displayed on the computer. Five to eight. Five minutes to set up. Oops.
“Shall we?”
Ryujin’s playlist is nice.
It has a lot of IU, some Day6, and some slower songs she doesn’t know towards the end of the hour, when it’s getting late.
When a listener calls in, Yeji in a tense breath, dreading another question about soulmates since they’re the most common, but the listener simply calls in to request a song and compliment Ryujin’s playlist.
Yeji sighs, relieved, and Ryujin looks up at the sound, catching her eye. She looks almost amused.
“What’s that for?” she asks, starting her playlist again and muting her mic.
Yeji does the same. “I was afraid they’d ask another question about...you know.”
Ryujin raises an eyebrow at her.
“The S word,” she mutters.
“Studying? Students? Shopping?”
“No, that S word—” Yeji stops, looks at Ryujin, who looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you.”
“Sorry. Your face was kinda funny.”
They fall silent, listening to Ryujin’s playlist for a while.
“You don’t have to tiptoe around it for me, you know,” Ryujin says.
“Okay, then.” Yeji hesitates anyway, just a little. “People call in with soulmate-related questions pretty often. I’m just wondering how you’ll handle them.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just give them some generic advice. Don’t give up hope, your soulmate will come, that sort of thing.” Ryujin shrugs. “Like you did last time.”
“My advice is not generic—” Yeji begins indignantly, then notices the corners of Ryujin’s lips twitching. “Oh...you’re doing it again.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of easy to tease?”
“No,” Yeji mutters, glowering at the mixing board, even though there’s a funny, fluttering feeling in her stomach.
“I find that hard to believe.”
Yeji turns to face her, and Ryujin is grinning at her, eyes curving, twin dimples creasing her cheeks.
She can’t help it—she stares openly.
Something in her face must give her away, because Ryujin’s smile fades and she looks away, gaze unreadable.
The booth lapses back into an uneasy silence amidst a plaintive IU ballad.
Yeji wants to hit herself on the head.
The silence between them extends past the end of their session, even as they exit the building and step into the crisp night air. It’s raining, cool droplets plinking onto Yeji’s bare arms, making her shiver lightly.
She takes out her umbrella and opens it, then notices Ryujin quickening her pace, one arm thrown over her head in a poor attempt at shielding herself from the rain.
“Hey,” she calls.
Ryujin turns, still walking. Yeji motions to her umbrella.
“I’ll be fine. It’s not that heavy.”
Yeji jogs a little to catch up with her, holding the umbrella over her head anyway. “You’re going to fall sick.”
“I’ll be fine,” Ryujin repeats, but she does slow down.
They walk in silence for a while, their shoes squelching wetly in the puddles pooling along the sidewalk.
Yeji racks her brain for something, anything to say.
“You did really good today,” she blurts, “considering it’s your first time.”
Ryujin gives her a sidelong glance and a half-smile. “Thanks.”
Yeji briefly contemplates the ludicrousness of her irrational happiness at a monosyllabic answer.
“Um,” she says. “Where are you headed?”
“Back to my dorm.” Ryujin points. “That way.”
“Oh! That’s where I’m headed too.”
She braces herself for the possibility of Ryujin finding an excuse to walk ahead, but the other girl just nods, continuing to match her pace.
Abruptly, Ryujin’s hand closes on the umbrella handle, just above hers, and the umbrella is being gently pushed towards her.
“You’re getting wet,” Ryujin tells her.
“Am I?” She didn’t even notice.
Sure enough, her right sleeve is a little damp. Yeji can’t find it in herself to care, not when Ryujin is walking beside her, safely sheltered from the rain.
“But now you’re getting wet,” she points out.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a little rain,” Ryujin says. “It’s your umbrella in the first place.”
Yeji subtly pushes the umbrella back to her side.
“I saw that.” Ryujin squints at her, pushing the umbrella back towards her, but Yeji just moves it back.
“ Stop. ” Ryujin pushes again, but Yeji remembers she has at least one solid advantage.
She holds the umbrella high above both their heads, trying not to giggle as Ryujin starts to reach for it again, then glares at her.
“You’re so annoying,” Ryujin complains, but Yeji can see the little smile playing around the corners of , and it makes warmth bloom in her chest.
Ryujin grabs the highest thing she can reach—Yeji’s wrist—and tugs, pulling the umbrella down. Yeji wants to laugh, but all of a sudden Ryujin is pressing closer to her, their shoulders squeezing together, so that they’re both covered.
“Are you happy? Now we’re both wet,” she says.
Ryujin’s arm is still pressed against hers, her hand still clasped over Yeji’s wrist.
“Very happy,” Yeji says, fighting hard to keep the smile off her face.
Before long, they arrive at one of the university’s residential buildings, and Ryujin’s hand slips from hers to fish her keys out of her bag. “This is me.”
Yeji watches her walk up to the front door, and Ryujin turns just before going inside. “Thanks for the umbrella.”
“No problem,” Yeji says.
Ryujin pauses, looking like she wants to say something else, but then simply smiles. “Bye. See you on Thursday.”
“See you,” Yeji murmurs as Ryujin heads inside.
She grins to herself the whole time she’s walking back to her dorm.
“Go on.” Jisu nudges her. “Go order.”
Yeji looks at her, then looks at the baristas behind the counter. “I don’t know, I don’t really see anyone that could be...you know.”
“Since when has that stopped you?” Jisu frowns at her. “You never know.”
She shrugs half-heartedly. “I don’t know. Just not feeling it, I guess.”
Jisu’s frown deepens slightly. “It’s okay if you don’t see anyone here. I have about four more on my list that just opened recently.”
Yeji sighs. “Okay.”
In the span of two weeks, amidst classes and deadlines, Jisu brings her to twelve new coffee shops, but no one else utters the words on her wrist.
Yeji dutifully orders a latte at each one, and feels a spark of disappointment every time she looks at the barista behind the counter, even before they speak.
No matter how good-looking they are, or how nice they are to her, no one can quite hold a candle to Ryujin.
One Tuesday, Ryujin bends to grab something from her backpack, her shirt riding up, and Yeji sees dark ink peek out from under the hem.
Her pulse quickens. She tries not to let her gaze linger, but she needs to know if that’s her handwriting inked across Ryujin’s ribs.
Before she can get a proper look, Ryujin chooses that moment to straighten back up, and Yeji jerks her head away, jumping so violently her knee bangs against the edge of the desk.
Ryujin gives her a strange look. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Yeji rubs her throbbing knee, wincing.
They both realise Ryujin’s mic is still on at the same time.
“Ah—” Yeji begins, just as Ryujin says, “Sorry—”
They look at each other. Ryujin motions for her to go ahead.
“Sorry about that,” Yeji says sheepishly into the mic. “There was...an incident.”
“My co-host seems to have hurt herself on the table,” Ryujin says breezily. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, thanks—”
“I was asking the table,” Ryujin says, and Yeji’s jaw drops.
“You—!” She jabs one finger in the air at Ryujin, who just looks at her, eyes glinting with mirth.
It’s hard to maintain a threatening stare when her knee is still smarting horribly.
“Everyone, how do I apply for a new co-host?” she says despairingly to their listeners, while Ryujin shakes with silent laughter next to her.
Her eyes catch movement on the screen. Comments are flooding into the live forum, most of them laughing, some of them asking Yeji if she’s okay.
A few of them are saying they’re glad Ryujin has joined Yeji in the booth, and they hope to see more of their banter.
Yeji smiles to herself, despite the pain in her knee.
When the next song starts playing, Ryujin mutes her mic and walks out of the booth.
She returns later with something clutched in her hand, and beckons Yeji closer.
“What?” Yeji says, pretending to sulk.
“Oh my god, you big baby.” Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Come here.”
Yeji edges her chair closer, and Ryujin plops the thing in her hand onto her knee.
It’s a handful of ice cubes bundled up in a few paper towels. Yeji stares at it for a few seconds, then looks up at Ryujin, but her gaze is trained on Yeji’s knee, brow furrowed.
“This looks like it’s going to bruise,” Ryujin murmurs, fingers landing lightly on her swollen knee, dancing around the red blotching her skin.
She holds the ice to Yeji’s knee for a few seconds. “Does this hurt?”
All Yeji registers is the warm press of her fingers on her skin, the subtle notes of concern in her gaze.
“Hello? Earth to Yeji.”
“Huh?” she stammers.
“Does it feel better?” Ryujin says, with a touch of exasperation.
“I...yeah. It does.”
Ryujin hums in acknowledgement, leaving the ice on her knee, already turning back to the mixing board. Yeji looks after her, her head a confusing swirl of emotions.
She really, really shouldn’t be letting herself feel this way, helplessly drawn to Ryujin and her magnetic pull as she is. Not when an interaction that means magnitudes to her means next to nothing for Ryujin.
When their session ends, Yeji collects her things and heads out the door, lost in the messy jumble of thoughts in her head.
She vaguely senses Ryujin following behind, and mentally debates whether or not to quicken her pace and leave her behind, because looking at Ryujin right now will absolutely not help with her current inner turmoil.
Before she can decide, Ryujin falls into step beside her. “Going back to your dorm?”
“Yeah,” she says, sighing internally.
She thinks her life would’ve been much, much easier if she’d just asked Seungwan for a change of partners at the beginning of the semester.
In her peripheral vision, she can see Ryujin looking at her curiously.
“You’re usually more talkative than this,” Ryujin says, after a few more minutes of silence.
“Just...thinking about something.”
“Don’t think too hard. You might hurt yourself.”
Yeji snorts, but she does smile a little, despite herself. “Rude.”
Ryujin starts to say something, but she’s interrupted by a loud buzzing noise. A beetle flies straight into their path, disturbingly large and grotesquely shiny.
“There’s so many bugs around at night,” Yeji says conversationally, as the beetle zips noisily around them. “I think this one’s a fig beetle—are you okay?”
Ryujin is flinching away slightly from the beetle, hands jumping to shield her face. “Yes.”
Yeji watches, amused, as she tries to subtly duck out of the beetle’s flight path. “You sure?”
“It’s just—” Ryujin lets out a little shriek as the beetle veers dangerously close to her face “—so big. ”
She ducks behind Yeji, clutching her sleeve.
“I think it likes you,” Yeji muses.
“Make it go away.”
“I could,” Yeji says thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s karma for all the times you teased me.”
“Yeji,” Ryujin hisses, dodging the beetle again by side-stepping around Yeji’s body.
“Do I get anything in return?” She’s enjoying this a little too much, seeing someone who was initially unapproachable and taciturn be afraid of something so trivial as a bug.
“Free coffee where I work tomorrow,” Ryujin offers hurriedly.
Fat lot of good that does her, considering the reason she spends so much on coffee in the first place, but she’ll get to see Ryujin one extra day of the week.
“Deal,” Yeji agrees.
The beetle buzzes angrily, and Ryujin flattens herself against Yeji, her nose pressed against the crook of her neck, soft hair tickling her skin.
Yeji’s heart stutters in her chest.
She takes her time waving the beetle away, hoping fervently Ryujin can’t hear her heartbeat thundering away, not with how close she is.
“It’s gone.” Yeji balls her hands into fists by her side before she does something stupid, like wrap her arms around the girl nestled into her neck.
Ryujin steps away from her swiftly, as if she’s been burned, looking everywhere but at Yeji. “Uh...thanks. You didn’t see anything.”
The ghost of her touch still tingles faintly on Yeji’s skin. She can’t even find it in herself to be hurt at how quickly Ryujin pulled away. “I didn’t see anything. Promise.”
It’s at this moment she knows she’s too far gone to stop herself from falling, regardless of whether Ryujin is her soulmate or not.
She’ll take whatever she can get.
The next day, she brings Jisu along with her to the university’s coffee shop.
“We’ve been to this one already.” Jisu lifts an eyebrow.
“I know.”
“Wait,” Jisu says slowly, and Yeji watches the realisation dawn on her face. “Isn’t this the one she works in…”
“She owes me coffee. It’s a long story.”
They sit down at a table, Jisu side-eyeing her the entire time, and Yeji goes up to the counter, to the bubbly cashier she vaguely recognises.
“Yuna, right?”
“Ah! You must be Yeji!” Yuna says. “Ryujin said you’d be coming in.”
Yeji blinks. “She did?”
Ryujin turns from where she’s making drinks behind Yuna. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
Yeji feels her pulse quicken at the playful smile on her face. "Maybe I just wasn't sure if you'd make good on your offer."
"Please." Ryujin puts a hand to her chest, mock offended. "What kind of a person do you think I am?"
Yuna looks between them. "Do you...want me to take your order, Yeji?"
"Nah, I've got this one," Ryujin tells her, and offers Yeji the coffee cup she's holding. "A latte, right?"
"Yeah," Yeji says, surprised again that Ryujin even remembers her order. "...Thanks."
Furtively, she examines the cup, hoping to find her name, her order, anything in Ryujin's handwriting, but the cup is unmarked.
She looks up to find Ryujin watching her.
"I know you ordered an iced one the last time, but it's gotten colder since then, so." Ryujin shrugs. "I made it hot. Careful you don't burn your tongue."
"Thanks," Yeji says again, touched. She smiles softly at her. "Really."
"Yeah." Ryujin clears , taking a step back. Her gaze darts away. "No problem. Think of it as an apology for how I treated you at first."
"Oh?" Yeji's smile widens into a playful grin. "So it's not for saving you from that bug?"
Ryujin's eyes flick back to hers. " Hey. Keep it down. I have a reputation to uphold."
"You needed saving? From a bug? " Yuna cackles from beside them, while punching another student's order into the register.
"Now look at what you've done."
Yeji spreads her hands. "Sorry."
" I didn't see anything. Promise, " Ryujin imitates under her breath, just loud enough for Yeji to hear, and Yeji starts laughing in disbelief. "Give me back that latte. If you can break promises, so can I."
"What? No take backs." Yeji takes a sizable gulp of the drink. "See, I drank from it already, I can't give it back— ow. "
She sticks out her burning tongue, eyes watering slightly.
In front of her, both Ryujin and Yuna are doubled over with laughter. Yuna is clutching at her sides, slapping the counter repeatedly.
"I told you to be careful," Ryujin says in between gasps. "Are you—are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Yeji whines, tongue still hanging out of .
"She is not fine." Ryujin rolls her eyes, grabbing a single ice cube from the freezer. She leans over the counter, takes hold of Yeji's chin, and deposits the ice cube into .
"Shank yoo," Yeji mumbles, on the ice cube, cheeks pink with embarrassment and something else.
Yuna is still laughing, even in the middle of taking another order.
Ryujin is just looking at her, shaking her head and smiling, dimples in full force, and Yeji discovers she's utterly, horribly weak for her and her smile.
"Thanks for the drink," she mutters around the melting ice cube in . "I'm gonna...I have a friend waiting over there."
"So." Jisu steeples her fingers as Yeji sits down. "Want to tell me what's going on?"
"She just owed me coffee," Yeji says, cradling the steaming cup in her hands. Ryujin's right; it is a little chilly today, and the coffee helps to warm her up a little.
She pops open the lid of the coffee cup to let it cool, and notices a little sun swirled into her latte, peeking past its milky ocean. Despite her scalded tongue, she smiles to herself.
"I thought you said she wanted nothing to do with you." Jisu's gaze is flinty.
"She didn't, but then..." Yeji shrugs. "Stuff happened. I don't know."
"Yeji, what happened."
Yeji winces. "She said something about how we're probably not soulmates, because our words are common, so I, um. Said we didn't have to be soulmates, but we could be friends instead?"
"Yeji."
"What," she says.
Movement from behind the counter catches her eye. Ryujin is preparing another drink, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, forearms taut, brow furrowed with concentration, a lock of hair falling into her eyes. Yeji wants to tuck it behind her ear and see if her hair is as soft as it looks.
" Yeji, " Jisu says again, more sternly this time.
Yeji's head whips back guiltily. "Sorry, you were saying?"
Jisu sighs. "I'm worried. I don't want you getting hurt."
"I'm not going to," Yeji protests. "We're just friends."
Jisu looks like she believes the lie about as much as Yeji does. Yeji sighs, setting the cup down. "I'll be careful, okay? I know what I'm getting into."
"I hope you do," her best friend murmurs.
"This party kind of ," Yeji comments offhandedly.
Jisu grimaces as two boys crash headlong into each other, nearly overturning the beer pong table. "Remind me why we're here again?"
"Trying to go to as many places as possible to look for your soulmate, remember?" Yeji says lightly. "I'm trying to follow some of the advice I keep giving people."
At least then one of them will have a soulmate.
"But a frat house? I seriously, seriously doubt we're going to find them here." Jisu grabs her arm, leading her through the sweaty crowd, out into the mercifully cool September night air. "C'mon, let's ditch."
Yeji stumbles a bit as Jisu pulls her right into someone, and they promptly get separated. "Oh—sorry—"
"Oh! It's Yeji, right?"
Yeji looks at the pretty girl standing before her. She's in a form-fitting top and skirt, wavy brown hair spilling down the shoulders of her jacket. "Hi, do I know you...?"
"My name's Chaeryeong. I called in to your show once."
"Oh!" Yeji brightens immediately. "It's nice to meet you in person."
"I'm trying to follow your advice and meet as many people as possible," Chaeryeong tells her. "So far, I haven't had much luck, but I'll keep trying."
"I hope you find them."
"Yeah, I've been dragging my friend to all these places. She's getting so tired of me," Chaeryeong jokes, and turns to beckon someone over.
Yeji wants to laugh, because what are the odds?
"Ryujin," she says.
"Yeji."
Ryujin's dressed simply, in skinny jeans and a jacket slung over a white crop top. Yeji still thinks she's the most stunning person at this godforsaken party.
"It's your fault I'm at this frat house, you know," Ryujin tells her, and Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, elbowing her.
"Ignore her. I think you two host the campus radio really well, by the way. I love listening to your banter. And you play nice music."
"Is it really banter if she just bullies me the whole time?" Yeji says, making a face at Ryujin, who scrunches up her nose back at her.
"It's not my fault you make it so easy."
"And here we go again." Chaeryeong shakes her head. Behind her, Yeji senses Jisu approaching, finally.
"This is my friend, Jisu," she says, as Jisu joins their little group.
Chaeryeong's eyes go wide, and she looks Jisu up and down. "Aren't you cold?"
Yeji's head snaps towards Chaeryeong, then Jisu.
Jisu blinks once, twice, then her lips part, gaze soft. "Oh, wow, hi."
Chaeryeong is already shrugging off her jacket, draping it around Jisu's bare shoulders. "Seriously, I'm getting cold just looking at you—wait, what did you say?"
They stare at each other. Yeji looks between them.
"I've finally found you," Jisu whispers.
Chaeryeong's eyes dip down, and Yeji knows she's looking at the words scrawled across Jisu's collarbone.
A hand touches Yeji's elbow.
"Shall we leave them to it?" Ryujin says in her ear, her voice low.
They end up on a little brick pathway that weaves in between houses, falling into quiet step with each other.
The path is half buried into the earth, rough and uneven. Ryujin trips over a gnarled root twisting through the brick, her arm knocking clumsily into Yeji's, and she rights herself, saying, "Sorry."
Yeji smiles distractedly, preoccupied with her thoughts. "It's okay."
"So," Ryujin says. "Our friends, huh?"
Yeji shakes her head, her smile turning a touch wistful. "Yeah. I'm happy for them."
"Chaeryeong wouldn't stop talking about how she was never going to find her soulmate, so." Ryujin grins. "I'm happy for them too. I don't know what she was so worried about."
Yeji just hums in agreement.
They walk in silence for a while.
"I really am sorry," Ryujin says after a while, pulling Yeji out of her thoughts.
"It's fine." Yeji waves her hand. "You didn't bruise me or anything. No lasting damage."
"Not for that." Ryujin stops, turning to face her, and Yeji does the same.
"Then for what?" Yeji says, and Ryujin gives her a long, searching look.
"You know what I mean," she says quietly.
Yeji chews on the inside of her lip. "Oh."
Ryujin says nothing, just watches her.
Maybe it’s the way Ryujin’s looking at her, or the way Yeji remembers her pulling away and putting distance between them every time they’ve gotten a little too close, but panic coils in her gut, prompting her to blurt, “What do you have to be sorry for? It’s not like I want to be with you like that anymore.”
“Ah,” Ryujin says softly. “That’s good, then.”
"We aren't soulmates, remember?" Yeji reminds her weakly.
"Mm. I suppose we aren't."
A thick silence falls between them. Yeji looks down at her feet and asks the question that's been burning on her mind since the day she met her. "Why are you so against the idea of soulmates?"
"I told you, I think the idea is dumb," Ryujin says flippantly, but Yeji sees volumes of unspoken words in the way she averts her gaze, in the little muscle that jumps in her jaw.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
There’s a flicker of surprise in Ryujin’s dark eyes. “...Thanks.”
They continue walking, quiet save for the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot. The moon is full tonight, its silvery light softly illuminating the pathway they’re walking on, compensating for the lack of streetlamps.
"Would you ever date anyone? Someone who isn't your soulmate?" Yeji asks.
The reply that follows is frank and devastating. "Yes."
Yeji lets out a little ah of understanding, her lips quirking into a humourless smile. "So it's not romance you don't like. Just soulmates."
"I'm not that jaded." Ryujin grins at her, quick and easy.
"I guess the idea is kind of dumb," Yeji says. "Getting together with someone just because of what they first say to you."
"Yeah. And you'd be missing out on so many other potential meaningful relationships by fixating on that one person."
Yeji makes a thoughtful noise. "They say that everything feels better with your soulmate, though."
"Like what?"
"Um, physical contact, I guess. Touching." Yeji feels her cheeks warm, remembering the day when she'd extended an olive branch and Ryujin first put her hand in hers. She hurriedly angles her face away from Ryujin. "Kissing. You know."
Ryujin just shrugs. "I've been doing just fine without the soulmate bond."
It's almost embarrassing how sharp the pang in her chest is when she thinks about Ryujin kissing other people.
"Ah, but if you've never done it with your soulmate, you wouldn't know the difference," Yeji says lightly.
Ryujin makes a non-committal noise. "I think I'll live."
If Ryujin isn't opposed to the idea of dating someone who isn't her soulmate, then Yeji can only think of two possibilities. Either Ryujin still thinks they could be soulmates and wants nothing to do with her romantically, or the more straightforward, likely explanation: Ryujin's simply not attracted to Yeji at all.
"I hope you find your soulmate soon," Ryujin says, and Yeji smiles, ruefully.
"Yeah. Me too."
Her voice sounds hollow even to her own ears.
"Hi, mom."
"Yeji!" Her mother's smiling face appears, framed by her phone screen. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm okay," Yeji says.
Her mother looks at her, a little shrewdly. Yeji sighs.
"Remember when I was young, and you told me that soulmates were meant to be together?"
"Mm," her mother says, "of course I remember."
Yeji pauses, tries to find the words. "Do you think that's...always the case?"
Her mother's gaze softens. "Have you met your soulmate, sweetheart?"
"Yes?" Yeji grimaces. "No? I don't...know."
"Did they say your words?"
"She did, and I think I said hers, but..." Yeji frowns. "It's hard to tell for sure."
"Do you like her?" her mother asks.
"More than I should," Yeji admits quietly.
Her mother hums thoughtfully. "The soulmate bond doesn't mean you instantly get together, you know. It means that there's potential for a deeper connection."
"I know." Yeji sighs, again. "I just thought it would be...I don't know, easier."
She knows what her mother's going to say before the words even leave .
"Nothing that's worth it is going to come easy, sweetheart."
Yeji groans.
"Relationships take time and effort," her mother tells her, blithely ignoring her. "You have to work for it."
It's not that simple, she wants to say, but doesn't.
"Okay. I'll try."
A few weeks later, on a Thursday, Seungwan pops into the radio booth just before they begin.
“I think you two have been doing really well,” their president tells them earnestly. “I was honestly a little worried after your first session, but your slot has one of the highest listener counts now.”
“Really?” Yeji can’t stop the little note of pride that enters her voice.
“Yeah.” Seungwan smiles at them. “Keep up the good work, guys.”
Seungwan leaves, and Yeji grabs Ryujin, giddy in her excitement. “Did you hear that? We have one of the highest listener counts!”
“I mean, our slot is also in the evening during peak listening time—stop shaking me,” Ryujin laughs, but she makes no move to remove Yeji’s hands from her arms.
“I’ve always had this time slot, but my listener counts have never been that high,” Yeji tells her, grinning. “Admit it, we work well together.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine.”
“Say it,” Yeji insists, tugging on her arms so she can’t escape.
“We work well together,” Ryujin finally relents, dimpling at her.
Yeji has to pull back and avert her eyes, because Ryujin’s smile is so beautiful it hurts to look at.
“C’mon, it’s eight, let’s start already,” Ryujin says.
Right.
Fifteen songs, two callers, and one anonymous listener question later, their hour is up and they're falling into their familiar routine of walking back to their dorms together.
"So," Yeji says. "How's Chaeryeong?"
Ryujin scrunches up her nose. "Absolutely smitten."
Yeji lets out a laugh at her tone of faux disgust. "So is Jisu."
"They're wearing matching socks and shoes today. I don't know why anyone would want to do that."
"It's a little cute."
"Yeah, it’s cute,” Ryujin admits. “But I’ll never tell her.”
"Jisu told me she was staying over at Chaeryeong's tonight."
"Oh, yeah." Ryujin reaches up to brush a lock of hair from her face, and Yeji's eyes follow her hand as it runs through her hair, transfixed. "It was all Ryeong could talk about today."
They're outside Ryujin's dorm now, and Yeji pauses in front of the steps, but Ryujin doesn't stop walking. "Aren't you going in?"
"No." Ryujin looks a little sheepish. "Chaeryeong's my roommate. I'm not going to be in the room with the two of them while they do...whatever it is they do."
Yeji stares at her. "Then where are you going to sleep?"
"I told her I'd sleep over at a friend's." Ryujin grins in a way that isn't reassuring in the slightest, and Yeji wrinkles her brow.
"You're not going to sleep over at a friend's, are you."
"What?" Ryujin protests. "How did you know?"
"You kind of can't make eye contact whenever you're not being completely honest," Yeji laughs. "Like the other day, when I asked you if you liked my new experimental playlist, and you said yes."
"Okay, fine, fine." Ryujin makes a face. "I was thinking of camping in the library or something, it's open twenty-four hours a day."
"You're going to sleep in the library? " Yeji frowns.
"I've done it before when I pulled all-nighters, okay?"
Yeji frowns at her some more.
Ryujin sighs. "I couldn't say no to Ryeong. She's been so happy with Jisu."
"You could stay over at my dorm." The words spill out of her in a rush, before her brain can catch up to . "I don't have a roommate."
There's a pause as Ryujin looks carefully at her. "I don't know."
Stupid, stupid. Yeji resists the urge to slap her palm to her forehead. "It's, um, better than sleeping in the library."
Ryujin's gaze is tinged with a wariness Yeji has come to be familiar with, and it makes something tighten painfully in her chest.
"I'll sleep on the floor, if it'll help you feel comfortable," she offers softly.
"You don't have to do that."
She shrugs. "I don't mind. Really. I have a yoga mat or two."
"I'll sleep on the floor."
"You're not sleeping on the floor. You're my guest."
"If anyone has to sleep on the floor, it'll be me," Ryujin insists.
"Does this mean you're staying over, then?" Yeji says brightly.
Ryujin exhales out a laugh. "Yeah. I guess so."
"My dorm's this way," Yeji tells her, leading the way.
She thinks she hears a quiet thank you, Yeji behind her as she walks.
Yeji sticks her keys into her door and twists, nudging open the door to her room with her shoulder, all too aware of the girl waiting behind her.
Said girl steps into the doorway behind her, looking around. “You have a nice room.”
“Thanks.” Yeji turns to grab her yoga mat from its resting place by her desk, unfurling it, hoping fervently her nervousness isn’t evident on her face. “You take the bed.”
“No,” Ryujin says firmly. She gives Yeji a little push, and Yeji stumbles a little, landing ungracefully on her bed.
“Hey!”
“ You take your own bed.”
“Your back’s going to hurt,” Yeji protests, and Ryujin points at her.
“Ah—that means your back is going to hurt if you sleep on the floor.”
“I don’t mind,” Yeji says, and she means it.
“Neither do I.” Ryujin eyes her, and says in a tone that brooks no further argument, “You’re doing me a favour. I’ll sleep on the floor, okay?”
Later, Yeji lies on her back and stares up at her ceiling, wide awake. In the stillness of the midnight air, she can hear Ryujin's soft breathing coming faintly from somewhere next to her, and it makes her heart race.
She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to will herself to sleep.
It doesn't work.
"Yeji," Ryujin says, so quietly Yeji thinks she’s hearing things at first.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"Don’t mention it."
"No, really." Ryujin shifts on her side so she's facing her, her face illuminated by the narrow strip of moonlight peeking through her curtains, hair falling softly around her face as she turns.
She looks ethereal. Yeji swallows uncomfortably and looks away.
"You didn't have to be nice to me," Ryujin continues. "Remember when we first met and I flat out rejected you? And during our first radio session, I wasn't exactly the easiest person to work with, but you still..."
Yeji lets her eyes drift back to Ryujin. Almost immediately, she wishes she didn’t; Ryujin is gazing steadily at her, her eyes soft and sincere. It’s a look that makes Yeji a little weak in the knees. She’s glad for the firm mattress under her.
“Thank you for being patient with me,” Ryujin whispers into the space between them. “I know I made it hard for you.”
Yeji wants to tell her that it wasn't hard at all, that she’ll gladly be patient with Ryujin for as long as she lets her, but she knows whatever that might come out of right now will border on dangerously non-platonic territory, so she just nods mutely.
"You're a good person," Ryujin says.
Yeji doesn't think that's true, because if she were a good person, she'd be able to stop feeling whatever it is she's feeling for Ryujin and accept that she wants nothing more than friendship.
"You're exaggerating," she jests in reply, not trusting herself to say anything else. "You weren't that bad."
Ryujin rolls her eyes. "Stop being so nice."
"What do you want me to say? You were impossible?" Yeji laughs.
"Just shut up and take the compliment."
Ryujin rolls onto her back again, and Yeji does the same, smiling a little to herself. "I didn't take you for a softie."
"Shut up," Ryujin says again. Yeji's smile broadens.
If she found it hard to sleep before, it’s near impossible now.
Evidently, Ryujin thinks so too. After a few minutes of silence, she speaks up again.
“It’s my parents,” she says, her voice low.
“Your parents?” Yeji prompts softly, when she doesn’t say anything else.
"You asked why I'm so against the idea of soulmates." Ryujin fiddles with the rubbery edge of the yoga mat. “My parents are each other’s soulmates.”
Yeji in a tense breath. “Did they...not work out?”
Ryujin shrugs one shoulder up and down. “When I was a kid, they were always fighting. They wouldn’t let us see, but my brother and I could always hear them through the walls. Sometimes my dad would...throw things. Not at us, but at the walls. It got loud.”
Her voice breaks a little. Yeji reaches down to put her hand tentatively over Ryujin’s. She can feel the smaller girl’s pulse thrum against her finger, slow and steady. “That sounds terrible.”
Ryujin laughs humourlessly. “When I got older, I kept asking my mom why we didn’t just pack up and leave him, especially when he got like that. She always told me the same thing—that he was her soulmate, and she couldn’t just let go of that bond.”
She clenches one hand into a tight, tense fist. “It was so stupid. ”
“He sounds like a ty person,” Yeji says quietly.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Ryujin scoffs. “When I was in high school, he and my mom started sleeping in separate rooms. And my dad would start bringing home different women practically every week, as if my mom wasn’t just next door. And the look on her face when she’d see one of them in the house—”
She’s crying now, tears spilling down her cheeks, and she dashes them away angrily with the heel of her hand. “I asked her again why we didn’t just leave him, and she told me no matter how many other women he was seeing, at the end of the day they were still soulmates, and he’d come back to her.”
Yeji doesn’t know what to say, but her heart is twisting itself into pieces watching Ryujin cry, so she slips off her bed and hesitantly winds her arms around the smaller girl, holding her as she trembles in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “No one should have to go through that, ever.”
“No,” Ryujin agrees, her voice like broken glass. “She’s still in that house with him, and he’s still bringing back another woman every week. I promised myself I’d never, ever put myself through something like that. Nothing scares me more than hanging onto something unhealthy because of an obligation to the soulmate bond.”
She pulls back from Yeji’s embrace, staring at her defiantly through her tears, as though daring her to tell her any different.
All Yeji can think about is how she’d like to throttle Ryujin’s father if she ever gets the chance.
Ryujin sighs, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just dumped all that on you. But, um. You asked last time why I don’t do soulmates. So...that’s why.”
“You didn’t dump anything on me,” Yeji says firmly. “I asked. Thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me.”
“Thanks for listening to my .” Ryujin smiles at her wanly. “And for...holding me during that. It was...nice.”
The tear tracks on her cheeks glint in the moonlight. Without thinking, Yeji reaches up to dab at them with her finger, then stills. Her eyes dart to Ryujin's, but Ryujin just looks at her wordlessly, unmoving.
Yeji catches another tear as it trickles down, her thumb lightly brushing Ryujin's cheekbone, and Ryujin lets her.
Then she drops her hand, guilt gnawing at her. She shouldn't be this close to Ryujin, subconsciously wanting more, hoping for more, not with what Ryujin's just told her.
Ryujin starts speaking again. "Let me treat you to coffee again tomorrow."
"Sure." Yeji rises, returning to sit on her bed, trying to put some distance between them. "Am I going to burn myself on your coffee again?"
"That was your own fault."
Yeji sticks out her tongue, even though she knows Ryujin's right.
She looks at Ryujin, who's still sitting cross-legged on her yoga mat, looking small and vulnerable. Her eyes are raw, red-rimmed from crying.
"Are you sure you want to sleep on the floor?" Yeji asks.
"You're not sleeping on the floor, I told you."
"No, I mean—" Yeji hesitates "—there's room on my bed for two, you know."
Ryujin looks at her. Yeji doesn't know whether she wants her to say yes or no.
"Okay," she agrees quietly, and goes to sit by Yeji on the bed. Hurriedly, Yeji makes room for her, trying to position herself as close to the edge as possible, rolling over so her back is facing Ryujin.
"Stop." Ryujin giggles a little watery laugh. Yeji feels fingers grasp the hem of her shirt and tug her back. "It's fine. I don't need that much space."
"I just want you to be comfortable." Yeji makes a face at her.
"It's fine," Ryujin repeats. "I trust you."
She smiles, but Yeji can't quite find it in herself to return it.
She doesn't feel like a good person. She feels like the worst person in the world.
"Here. Now remember to let it cool before you drink this time."
Ryujin hands her the to-go cup, along with an iced latte and an unwrapped straw (Jisu will drink iced coffee even if it's negative fifty degrees outside) and Yeji receives both drinks gingerly. "I'll remember."
Remembering the little sunrise Ryujin made for her the last time she visited, she peels open the lid to see a milky fern sitting prettily in the middle of her latte. "Cute."
She looks up to see Ryujin eyeing it as well. "No idea how that got there. Yuna probably did it."
"Really?" Yeji raises an eyebrow. "Yuna, who's been busy behind the cashier all day?"
"Yeah." Ryujin levels her a challenging stare. "Yuna."
"Okay." Yeji smiles easily, popping the lid back on. "Could you please tell Yuna that I think her latte art is very cute and she's very talented and I hope she keeps doing it, because it always makes my days a little brighter?"
"Whatever," Ryujin mumbles, but she's smiling as well. She taps the bell as she slides another iced coffee onto the counter, and Yeji moves aside to make room for the next student, who promptly bumps into her with a little oh! of surprise.
As Yeji stumbles a little, the stranger picks up Jisu's iced latte, and Ryujin says, "That's hers. This is yours."
"Oh," the stranger says to Ryujin, "sorry about that!"
She turns to Yeji.
"Here's your latte!" The stranger says brightly, holding it out. "Don't forget your straw!"
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