Minjeong wasn’t much of a morning person. It didn’t matter if she was in her apartment in Seoul or still jet lagged in a hotel room five thousand miles away. Mornings weren’t her thing. Getting up was a big ordeal she could never seem to overcome. The bed was too enticing and she didn’t want to end their time together just yet. As she grew older, the more she seriously considered the possibilities of actually being bedual.

 

So when she got shaken awake during the crack of dawn, to say Minjeong was furious would be an understatement.

 

“Minjeong. Kim Minjeong. Hey, get up, sleepyhead.”

 

In the haze of her sleep combined with her irritation, Minjeong responded by grabbing the nearest object her hand could find and swung at the voice in full force. In the distance, she heard something crash.

 

“Whoa! Jeez, good morning to you too, grumpy.”

 

She barely registered what was said, already drifting back to dreamland until she was yanked and flipped over to her back. The light from the ceiling pierced through her eyelids. Minjeong finally snapped. She opened her eyes, ready to spit fire to whoever this motherfu--wait, wasn’t she supposed to be alone in this room?

 

She squinted through the drowsiness, saw the figure seated on her bed, and thought she was still dreaming. “The hell are you doing here?”

 

Yoo Jimin grinned, as though nothing was wrong. “Finally. Come on, we’re going out.”

 

Minjeong blinked rapidly, each time believing that the next time she opens her eyes, the girl would be gone but she stayed there, looking very real and permanent.

 

What the , it’s too early for this.

 

“How did you even get in?” Minjeong demanded, feeling a bit more awake now and a bit more self-conscious, raising the blanket to cover her face, though that should be the last thing for her to worry about.

 

“Asked the front desk for keys. Told them I’m your girlfriend who wanted to surprise you for your birthday.”

 

Of all things she said, Minjeong only registered one thing, “My what now?”

 

“Your birthday.”

 

“That’s not what I--”

 

“They saw me pick you up and drop you off yesterday so yeah. And before you get mad, I did call you multiple times but you won’t pick up so I just barged in.”

 

Minjeong stared at her before saying, “I should’ve reported you to the police when I had the chance.”

 

“It’s too late.” Jimin pulled on her arm, “Now please get up. We might miss the sunrise.”

 

That wiped all the remnants of sleep away. “Sunrise?!” Her neck whipped to her floor to ceiling windows, heart sinking upon seeing that yes, it was still dark out.

 

“Don’t act so surprised I did tell you I’ll be picking you up early today.”

 

“I didn’t think you meant early early.”

 

Jimin snorted, “Of course I meant early early. Just how early did you think early is?”

 

“I dont know, around nine thirty?”

 

A light smack on her arm, “That’s already late! Come on, Kim Minjeong! Up on your feet!”

 

Nobody. No one. Not a single soul could make Minjeong stand and shower at 4 freaking AM. Not Aeri. Nor Yizhuo. Not even her own mother. She lamented over what she had become as she stood under the showerhead, regretting every single life decision she had ever made.

 

When she finished, she found Jimin still on her bed only this time she’s leaning against the headrest, jean clad legs stretched out and ankles crossed, busy with her phone. Fully awake now, she drinks in the sight of Yoo Jimin; dark hair a shimmering cascade of onyx contrasting the porcelain skin of her cheek and blending with her black overcoat. Okay, so she’s too pretty first thing in the morning. So what? It’s not like she cared about that, right?

 

Minjeong walked over, curious about what she’s frowning at on her phone and found that she was in the middle of watching their videos from yesterday.

 

“You already put it up?” She asked, peering over Jimin’s shoulder.

 

“No, I’m still in the middle of editing but I’m uploading them when the trip’s over. Are you done--”

 

Minjeong looked at her, brows quirked in question as to why she suddenly stopped. Jimin had turned to face her and for some reason froze like she was malfunctioning or something.

 

“No, I still have to change.” She answered the unfinished question and when Jimin continued to stare, asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“Ma’am, with all due respect, you’re standing so close to me with only a bathrobe on. Of course I’m looking at you like this.”

 

Minjeong wrinkled her nose and poked Jimin’s cheek, “.”

 

Jimin swatted her hand and pushed her away, “Get moving, your hair’s dripping all over my shirt.”

 

Chuckling, she left her alone and headed to the closet to pick out clothes that she had taken out of her luggage during her Hiding-From-Yoo-Jimin phase out of boredom, ultimately deciding on a grey hoodie and a pair of jeans before disappearing in the bathroom once more.

 

Like yesterday, Jimin refused to tell her where they were going. Even her usual commentary to the camera didn’t spoil their destination. The sky was still dark as they drove through the streets of Paris, reminding Minjeong of the perfectly good sleep she was enjoying that was unceremoniously cut short and she’s sulking on the passenger’s seat again. Her stomach grumbled, matching her mood. She hated having to get up early.

 

“Hey.” Jimin broke the ice, glancing over multiple times. “Pst. Kim Minjeong.” she poked her side.

 

“What?”

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

 

“C’mon, your lips are puckered so hard they’d reach the Seine.” Jimin said, “Look, I’m sorry I had to drag you out this early but I swear it’s worth it. We’re grabbing breakfast at this cafe right after. They serve awesome French toasts and macarons.”

 

Minjeong swallowed. Damn, that sounded good. But she had an ego to uphold and so she kept an air of indifference as she replied, “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

 

Jimin leaned over, trying to have a clear look of her face when she stopped at a stoplight. “Let me see your smile,”

 

Minjeong gave her best poker face.

 

The light turned green and Jimin’s laughter accompanied the rev of her car.

 

The ride was quiet after that, save for Minjeong quietly singing along to Baekhyun and Suzy’s Dream playing in the speakers, Jimin joining her every now and then and there it was again, the fleeting eye-contact and smiles that Minjeong didn’t know how to feel about so she glued her eyes out of the window because whatever it was must be stopped before it could even start. Unless Minjeong liked pain, which she didn’t.

 

“We’re here?” Minjeong asked in disbelief when Jimin stopped the car, “Already?”

 

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Welcome to Jardins du Trocadéro--best place to watch the sunrise over Paris. You’re going to love it. Come on.”

 

The frigid wind greeted them as soon as they stepped out of the car. Minjeong’s hands felt like ice cubes even as she shoved them inside her hoodie pockets. Jimin was equally hunched up, hooking her arm through Minjeong’s uninvited as they tried to find the prime photography spot. The Trocadéro was completely empty, aside from a couple of early birds and one or two photoshoots.

 

The gardens were spectacular, even at dawn with the fountains not yet much like Minjeong’s drowsy brain. They huddled behind the water cannons so they stood perfectly aligned with the Iron Lady herself, standing just across the river Seine.

 

“I think we’re too early.” Minjeong said, stifling a yawn.

 

Jimin glanced at her, “I think I should’ve bought you coffee.”

 

“Yeah. You should take notes for next time.” Minjeong yawned again, scowling at the click of the camera, “Stop that.”

 

Jimin grinned from behind the device. She should really be thankful she’s cute. “Why? You look adorable.”

 

Minjeong snorted, whipping out her phone and rapidly took photos of the brunette who laughed, lifting a hand to cover her face. Two can play this game.

 

“Hey, stop!”

 

“Why? You look adorable.”

 

“Gee, okay, I get it. No candid photos. Copy that.”

 

Minjeong nodded, satisfied. She was about to delete Jimin’s photos but ended up staring. Minjeong’s thumb hovered over the delete button but landed on the home button. She can keep a few photos. Yizhuo asked for them anyway. And she can keep them for blackmail. Or witchcraft. Something.

 

“Minjeong, look!” Jimin’s voice brought her back to reality, making her look up and in a breath.

 

Wow.

 

Minjeong was a songwriter by profession. She wrote music, wrote lyrics for a living. Eloquence was part of her job description. Yet ‘wow’ was the only word she could think of to describe the magnificence of the golden sun blooming at the horizon, slowly rising up with its rays shining through the lower levels of the Eiffel Tower like blazing petals stretching outwards into the rich blue sky.

 

How could something so normal, something that happened every single day without fail, feel so extraordinarily enchanting?

 

Wow. Just...wow.

 

Something about watching the colors spill across the skyline washed her over with awe, making her feel mellow. “I’ve never thought much about the sunrise. Waking up early is such a task. Sunsets are just more convenient, y’know? But this…” she gestured to the scene unfolding before them. “This is different. It’s magical. I’m bewitched. It makes me feel things.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“I don’t know, encouraged?” Minjeong answered, squinting at the rays of dazzling gold. “Hopeful...warm.” she turned to Jimin only to find her already looking, soft gaze making her feel fuzzy. “What?”

 

Jimin smiled, candy colored hues dancing on her skin. She shook her head and averted her eyes. “Nothing.” she said, “Just wanted to say, ‘I told you so’.”

 

Minjeong snorted, playfully hitting Jimin’s shoulder with hers. “Thank you. For sharing this with me.”

 

Jimin gave her another smile, this time more playful, “Buckle up, bestie. There’s still three more days of Paris left to share.”

 

After witnessing the sun completely illuminate the sky, Jimin brought her to a coffee shop where they sat at a table outside, under those cute little red umbrellas while they had breakfast courtesy of Minjeong’s terrible French which she likes showing off partly because she wanted to and mostly because it never failed to make Jimin laugh.

 

What could be more Parisian than sitting in a cafe sipping on an espresso, munching on a French toast, and watching the world go by? Countless writers, painters, screenplay producers have been enchanted by the magic of Paris; many of their magical artworks coming to life on sheaves of paper, inspired by the people they see. Minjeong wasn’t any different, only that her art was being built on a pile of table napkins.

 

Sunrise, sunrise

Looks like mornin’ in your eyes

 

Click.

 

The camera shutter made Minjeong look up and frown at Jimin who just grinned, “I’m documenting your songwriting process.” The brunette explained.

 

“What if I write in the shower?”

 

“I’ll hand you the soap.”

 

Minjeong snorted and Jimin lifted her camera in time to capture it. Whatever. She ignored the girl and continued writing.

 

Sunrise, sunrise

Couldn’t tempt us if it tried

 

“I didn’t think songwriters like you got blocks.”

 

Minjeong shot her a look, “Songwriters like me?”

 

“Yes. Songwriters like you. You know, like, the super good ones.”

 

Minjeong covered her blush with a scoff, ducking to hide warm cheeks. Could she not throw compliments around like it’s nothing?

 

“I’ve been in a slump for quite a while now, actually.” She said, “Around...five months, I think?”

 

She didn’t think. She knew for sure it was five months. And eight days. She would state the exact number of hours but she already lost count at the 109th.

 

“Really?” Jimin tilted her head to the side, “Then what about La La Lost You? That album was released around June, right? That’s four months ago.”

 

Minjeong gaped at her. “You are a fan.”

 

“I don’t think you’re in a slump.” Jimin continued, unfortunately not distracted. Her knowing, sympathetic gaze made Minjeong’s skin itch. “I think you were in the middle of somewhere uncertain. Where neither bops nor soulful ballads felt right. I won’t pry but I do hope you’re doing better.”

 

Minjeong looked away, “I am.” her eyes caught sight of the words scribbled on tissues: sunrise.

 

A new beginning. Hope. Rebirth.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Jimin’s brows rose up to her hairline. “You’re thanking me a whole lot today.”

 

“Don’t like it too much. It’s only for today.”

 

“What is it for this time?”

 

“For not prying.” For being there. For making it easier. For showing me beauty once more.

 

Jimin grinned, cheek dimple showing. “I got you, bestie. I got you.”

 

After hanging around to let Minjeong write a few more verses and order a box of macarons to go, Jimin dragged her to an unexpected place Minjeong had never heard of before.

 

When talking about Paris and museums, one would automatically think of the famous Louvre. But Jimin brought her somewhere different. Behind a wrought iron gate, at the end of a long, leafy alleyway was La Musee de la Vie Romantique, one of Paris’s quaintest museums--or so Jimin had told her.

 

It wasn’t far by foot and with coffee running in Minjeong’s veins, she was extra giddy and jumpy to be running around picturesque cobble-lined alleys and gawk at Montmartre’s quirky architecture that differed from the rest of the city. There were also unusual small house museums dotted around the area that had Minjeong craning her neck.

 

“How did you discover this?” she asked as they strolled along the street, not minding the walk since she had macarons to snack on.

 

“I never guessed I’ll find this place here,” Jimin replied, “Montmartre’s one of my favorite areas to explore here in Paris. Three years ago, I somehow wandered into this small museum. Since then, I’ve always made sure to visit.”

 

They finally reached a clearing much larger than Minjeong had anticipated, complete with a courtyard, artist workshops, and even a small garden. The villa was covered in vines with pink colored walls and green windows. They stepped in and Minjeong was in awe at how everything was preserved in a way that made her feel like she had just gone through a time machine and stepped back into 19th century Paris.

 

“La Musee de la Vie Romantique.” Minjeong muttered as they looked around. “What does that mean?”

 

“Museum of the Romantics.” Jimin translated, “From what I understand, it’s probably because it recreates the era of Romanticism. Which is why all over this floor is everything George Sand.” they stopped to look at the portrait of the said woman. Jimin whistled. “She’s pretty.”

 

Minjeong didn’t mean to. It was probably the caffeine in her bloodstream that made her too hyper and comfortable to blurt out, “Prettier than me?” she asked, hoping to catch Jimin off-guard but the girl just laughed and tapped her nose.

 

“Of course not, silly.” She grabbed her hand and they moved on to the next artifact.

 

Her commentary about how George Sands and Chopin dated before he died faded off in the background as Minjeong stared at their intertwined fingers. The museum was almost empty. There was no need to keep each other close. Maybe Jimin was just touchy as she was flirty. Eitherway, the girl sure was developing a weird habit. Minjeong found that it didn't bother her either. She decided not to dwell on it too much and just enjoy her company. While it lasts.

 

“You okay?” Jimin asked, brows quirked in question and eyes filled with thinly veiled worry and Minjeong realized she’s been squeezing Jimin’s hand tight.

 

She cleared , looking away. “Yeah, just wondering if I can have more macarons?”

 

The soft look dissipated, replaced with a deadpan stare, “Minjeong, you just finished an entire dozen.” she reminded.

 

“You ate half of them.” Minjeong countered.

 

“I ate three pieces. You got the rest.” Jimin corrected.

 

“Well, then, it wasn’t enough.”

 

“You’re a bottomless pit.”

 

“Where are we going?” Minjeong asked, bewildered at Jimin’s pull leading to the exit.

 

“There’s a cafe outside.”

 

Minjeong couldn’t help but smile. She tugged on Jimin’s hand, standing still. “No, it’s okay. We can go there after.”

 

Jimin’s look of confusion was endearing. “But you said you wanted macarons.”

 

“What if I said I wanted this building?”

 

“Well,” Jimin pursed her lips in thought, “I’m sure we can find a way for that.”

 

Minjeong laughed and pulled Jimin’s arm back to the direction they were originally headed to. “Dork. C’mon, let’s continue with your Romantic tour.”

 

They continued roaming around admiring Romantic pieces of art from paintings to sculptures and bronzes, artifacts owned by famous historical people in reverent silence save for Jimin translating the French inscriptions from time to time, in awe of the raw and intricate craftsmanship. The longevity, the idea of something that was hundreds of years older than them. Minjeong fell into her thoughts, wondering if she could be someone permanent. Someone timeless, whose works would be so iconic it would leave a mark so deep it would still be touching hearts in the next century.

 

She relished on the peaceful quiet that have fallen upon them. The way their arms brushed against each other as they stood before each exhibit, the way the fragrance of freshly pressed blackberries would ever so often waft over Minjeong’s nose and fill her with a sense of warmth, and the way their fingers were slotted together tells her she’s not alone. Not anymore.

 

She wondered what the content of Jimin’s silence was but before she could ask, her ringtone broke the ice, making them both jump. Minjeong gave Jimin a sheepish look as she checked her phone. It was Aeri, and she’s still calling.

 

“‘Soft-boiled Egg’? That’s an interesting contact name.” Jimin commented when Minjeong gave her a look of permission, “Go on, take it. I don’t mind.”

 

Nodding, Minjeong walked off to take the call, greeting with her usual, “What?”

 

It wasn’t Aeri’s voice that replied but Yizhuo’s, “Yikes, Kim Minjeong. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

 

“Why are you using Aeri-unnie’s phone?”

 

“She’s in the restroom and international calls cost a lot. So.”

 

“You baby demon. What do you need? I’m busy.”

 

“Busy on your Paris date, you mean? I’m sorry, am I ruining the vibe? Did I interrupt anything? Were you just about to k--”

 

“No. I’m ending the call. Bye--”

 

“No, wait! Is Jimin-unnie there? Can I talk to her? Pretty please?”

 

Minjeong glanced at Jimin who gave her a concerned look. They might be meters apart but with the empty room making her voice echo, it didn’t make much of a difference.

 

“You’ll have to make an appointment before you can talk to her. I don’t make the rules.”

 

“You’re suddenly her manager now?”

 

“Ning Yizhuo, did you seriously call just for this? No means n--” she caught sight of Jimin’s face lit up with excitement, no doubt catching the name ‘Ning Yizhuo’.

 

Rolling her eyes with a sigh, she strolled back to Jimin’s side, “Fine.” she the device into the brunette’s hand. “She wants to talk to you.”

 

A series of squeals ensued and Minjeong could only pout as they both gush over each other, Yizhuo’s high pitched excitement unmistakable even without having the device on loudspeak and Jimin’s flustered stutters about how she’s a big fan making her roll her eyes once more, thinking about how she didn’t react like this when they met even though she’s claimed to be a big fan of hers too.

 

She’s scowling at the plaster cast of Sand’s arm and Chopin’s hand, arms crossed over her chest as the conversation stretched from a minute to five. She was starting to feel neglected. How long were they going to scream at each other? Haven’t they had enough? Were they--

 

An arm wrapped around her neck and pulled her close. Before she could register the blueberries getting stronger, a pair of lips were pressed against her temple, completely stopping any processing her brain was trying to do.

 

Jimin was smiling wide with her teeth showing, dimple out, and eyes crinkled into sparkly crescents. Thank you, she mouthed.

 

Minjeong looked away, already calculating her phone bill if she started calling Yizhuo every day.

 

As long as you’re happy, I guess.

 

***

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent shopping at Printemps and Galeries Lafayette, which tired Minjeong out but it was fun all the same to try out luxury clothes without checking anything out, and buying chocolates, candies, and French baguette accessories. Jimin helped her pick out stuff to buy for Aeri and Yizhuo even though Minjeong insisted she only planned to get them fridge magnets. The brunette wouldn’t hear the end of it, though she suspects she just wanted to buy Yizhuo a gift and was trying to have Minjeong as the delivery girl.

 

She expressed her resentment, only to wish she hadn’t because Jimin responded by flooding her with attention, if smothering her with kisses could be called as such. Minjeong had to shove her face away, coming out of it with cheeks burning with shame.

 

With heavy shopping bags dangling from their hands, they headed up to Delicieux: a rooftop cafe situated on top of Printemps. It was another one of Paris’s ‘well kept secrets’, which meant that they didn’t have to constantly dodge out of the way of selfie sticks (that aren’t Jimin’s) and worry that they’re ruining someone else’s photo.

 

The place provided them with a 360-degree view of the city, with the Eiffel Tower sticking out like a sore thumb. The sun was setting and along with the dimming sky was the city lights slowly showing up like stars on the ground.

 

“You keep dragging me off to quiet places, I’m starting to think you just want me all to yourself.” Minjeong commented as they stood at the rooftop terrace, checking the photos she took of the setting sun, spilling gold and lilac all over the city of love.

 

Jimin snorted, “I’ll bring you somewhere crowded tomorrow then. Don’t you dare complain.”

 

Minjeong wasn’t about to complain. Crowded places just meant more hand holding, though they were already doing that even in vacant spaces.

 

She gazed into the fleeting colors of dusk just beginning to fade away and marvelled about how today she had woken up with the sun, and went down with it. Both sunrise and sunset spent with Yoo Jimin. She turned to the said girl whose side-profile matched the sky’s beauty. Minjeong found having to wake up early not that regrettable after all.

 

She didn’t pass on the chance to take a photo. Jimin noticed and instead of cowering posed for the camera and Minjeong faltered for a second before continuing to take pictures, the sunset splashed on her skin a mere accessory to her dazzling smile. Minjeong’s breath was taken away and she had to stop and point the camera somewhere else.

 

Snapping a few pictures of the Eiffel Tower swathed in gold and Paris’s beautiful cityscape, she finally put down the device, checking her shots, Jimin peering over her shoulder.

 

“Those are taken well.” The brunette commented, “You made me look pretty.”

 

Minjeong scoffed in disbelief. “Please. You’ve always been pretty.”

 

“You think?”

 

“I know. Everybody knows. Don’t be an .”

 

Jimin laughed at that. Minjeong could feel her subtly trembling at the sharp cold winds and stepped closer, just enough for their arms to touch and share some body heat.

 

They lapsed into comfortable silence, wordlessly staring into the horizon and watching the sun go to sleep while the city below stirred awake, Paris living up to her appellative. Shining boulevards, illuminated bridges, luminescent buildings, the occasional beams from the iridescent street grounds, and of course, the glittering Iron Lady standing tall in the distance like a mighty beacon. It was breathtakingly beautiful. None of her photos she took could do the view justice.

 

She turned to Jimin and wondered, how many times has she seen this view? “Are the lights similar in every country?” she asked, eyes now trained to watch the unreadable expression on Jimin’s face. There was a cloud of contemplation around her since they climbed up there, which Minjeong had been trying to dispel but to no avail.

 

“No, of course not.” Jimin let out a sigh, “It’s unique in every city’s every angle. But, well, for someone who travels so much, it often gets smudged especially with my bad memory. This one though. This one would stay in my mind for a long, long time.”

 

“Why?” Minjeong found herself asking.

 

“Because you’re here.” Jimin answered, eyes remaining glued on the city spread out beneath them “It’s...the first time I’m seeing this with someone. Notre dame, Sainte-Chapelle, Trocadéro’s sunrise, the museum, this right here, right now...all of it. These places...hold important memories for me and it’s just…” she stammered, obviously struggling to find words, “I don’t know, it’s weird. I’m not making any sense, am I?” she ended up saying.

 

Minjeong bumped Jimin’s shoulder with hers, “Hey. It’s okay. You’re not obliged to tell me everything.” she squeezed her hand, “But if ever I’m intruding something personal then I can still book that flight to Seoul--”

 

“That’s the thing.” Jimin cut her off softly, “I don’t mind you being here.”

 

Their eyes met and Minjeong wanted to cower away at the intensity of Jimin’s gaze. She tried to laugh it off, saying something dumb like, “That’s great, I guess?”

 

Jimin’s expression didn’t change. “What happens after five days?”

 

Minjeong’s smile melted. She looked away, training her eyes on the Eiffel Tower instead. “Well,” she started, “I’ll go back to Seoul and you’ll be travelling again. We’ll be continuing whatever the hell we had going on in our respective lives, I guess.”

 

Jimin tugged on her hand, “Promise me you’ll keep in touch?”

 

Minjeong gave her a reassuring smile, “I’ll keep in touch.”

 

Jimin nodded, satisfied. Her face turned tearful, upturned brows and glistening eyes, “I’m going to miss you.”

 

Minjeong lifted her hands instinctively, awkwardly hovering upon realizing cupping Jimin’s cheeks was probably too much, and ended up placing them on her shoulders instead. “Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not talk about good-bye. We’re only on our second day. We have a lot of time ahead of us. Let’s spend them with only laughter, yeah?”

 

Jimin nodded, sniffling and blinking away unshed tears. “Let me drive you to the airport?”

 

“Yes, I’ll let you drive me to the airport. Leave the tears for the airport too, okay?”

 

“Okay.” She pressed her lips together contemplatively, “Can I hug you?”

 

Minjeong chuckled before stepping into Jimin’s arms, hesitantly wrapping hers around the slim torso but the brunette squeezed her tight, earning a tiny yelp and causing her face to be squished into Jimin’s chest, filling every inhale with blackberries.

 

Seems like she wasn’t the only one getting attached.

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

chapter 3 songs for context

Dream by Suzy and Baekhyun

Sunrise by Norah Jones

La La Lost You by Niki