final

It’s two in the morning, and Joohyun definitely should not be hunched over her computer, stomach growling in protest as she trawls through her latest workload on a Saturday night.

Rubbing her eyes, she leans back, sighing.

She doesn’t get paid quite enough for this, really, and it’s all the more torturous when she’s not exactly enjoying what she does. Mundanity kills the soul, as Joohyun has found out with her regular 9-to-5 as a business analyst. She slumps in her chair, sighing.

Then, there’s someone knocking on the door, and the noise startles her out of her seat.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Joohyun makes her way past the cramped corridor lined with various shoes and items left discarded for cleaning on the weekends, and glances through the peephole only to find an exceedingly familiar face. Opening the door, she smiles at the sight of Seungwan standing in front of her at two in the morning, looking as bright as ever, dressed in a casual black shirt with a flannel on top and a pair of denim jeans.

Seungwan has always reminded Joohyun of stardust ever since they met more than ten years ago in middle school; of freedom, of an almost other-worldly charm that Joohyun hasn’t seen in anyone else.

Today, without fail, Seungwan looks absolutely ethereal, and especially so with her newly dyed shock of platinum blonde hair.

“Hey, are you free?” She’s smiling, peeking into the dimly light apartment.

“Not really. Why?”

“Want to go on a road trip?” Seungwan suggests, and Joohyun blinks.

“Now?” She asks incredulously, and Seungwan nods, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Perks of being a songwriter, Joohyun supposes. The artist in her fuelled impulse decisions, and Seungwan’s never really lost her taste for wanderlust, anyway. “I’m busy with work, Seungwan.”

“Or you could leave it behind for a night and come with me.” Seungwan smiles. “Please?” She’s holding out her hand, an enthusiastic offer, and Joohyun bites on her lip.

It’s two in the morning, and Joohyun has a pile of unfinished things left to do. She really shouldn’t, but she’s slipping her hand into Seungwan’s anyway, because it’s Seungwan, and she can never say no to her.

“Okay.”

Maybe Joohyun should have mentioned that she’s rather fond of Seungwan’s presence. She’s not really sure why, but there’s always been something alluring about Seungwan’s carefree yet careful nature, light-hearted yet serious.

Not that Joohyun’s ever told Seungwan, even though this fact has remained true since their high school days.

It’s a little foolish to still perhaps be a little in love with her after all these years, but Seungwan holds a special place in her heart that Joohyun knows no one else can quite fill. Which is also maybe why she’s sitting in the passenger seat of Seungwan’s car with the windows rolled down as they speed along the fairly empty roads to God knows where, despite the fact that she has multiple looming deadlines due on Sunday.

“Where are we going?” Joohyun asks, and Seungwan glances over, grinning.

“You’ll know when we get there.”

Huffing in amusement, Joohyun shakes her head, but leans back against the seat anyway, indulging in the feeling of the rush of the wind against her face, and the sound of Seungwan’s R&B playlist in the background.

“I’ve missed you.” Seungwan says, and Joohyun turns to look at her.

“I’ve missed you too.” She murmurs quietly, and Seungwan chuckles.

“I take it that you haven’t been doing too well?”

There’s a dissatisfied grumble from Joohyun that gives Seungwan all she needs to know. “What about you? You look happy.”

“As happy as a starving artist can be. You know how it is with what I do.” Seungwan shrugs, and Joohyun’s watching with a worried gaze. It seems like Seungwan knows this too, because she’s waving a hand, almost as if to wave away Joohyun’s concerns.

“I’ll manage, don’t worry. I’m more than happy to be doing what I’m doing.”

“Are you sure?”

Seungwan gives a wry smile. “You’re hardly in any position to talk, don’t you think?”

Joohyun’s mouth thins into a frown. “No, I suppose not.”

Seungwan hums in acknowledgement. “Joohyun, promise me one thing?” She glances at Joohyun, who raises her eyebrows. “Forget it all, just for tonight and tomorrow. Let’s pretend it’s just us left in the world.”

Joohyun’s fighting back an amused smile. “I can see why you’re a songwriter now.” She laughs, and Seungwan chuckles.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of an occupational disease.” She lowers the volume of the music. “Promise me, though?”

She watches as Seungwan focuses on the road ahead, navigating almost effortlessly, and she’s once again reminded of the countless times that Seungwan has done the same exact thing—drag her out to the middle of nowhere in the dead of the night, and Joohyun follows anyway because she knows that their destination is always beautiful and breath-taking, because it’s Seungwan taking the lead.

“Of course.”

It’s 4 a.m., and they’ve parked the car at a rest stop, the engine turned off and the windows still rolled down as Seungwan munches on a rice cake, the bowl of takeout shared between them. In the distance, there’s the sound of crickets chirping, and the serenity is a welcome change from Joohyun’s otherwise hectic schedule. In all honesty, she’s missed Seungwan in the time that they haven’t seen each other. It hasn’t been all that long—a month at the most—but having gone from seeing each other almost every day in middle school, high school, and then university, a month seems like an extremely long stretch in comparison now.

“Want to take a guess where we’re going?” Seungwan reclines back into her seat, letting out a small sigh as she glances out and into the relatively empty space around them.

Joohyun snorts. “Even if I guessed it correctly, I highly doubt you’d tell me anyway.”

“This isn’t fun, you know me too well.” Seungwan laughs. “But take a guess, I’m curious.”

Joohyun shakes her head, smiling. They’ve been to many places over the past few years, ranging from an abandoned amusement park just a thirty-minute drive away from Joohyun’s apartment, to a national park four hours away and once, all the way back to Joohyun’s hometown. The best kind of secrets and mysteries are always with Seungwan, and Joohyun loves the almost addictive, thrilling type of energy Seungwan always seems to have with her.

“The Han River?” Joohyun tries.

“Nope.”

“Incheon?”

“Nope.”

“Jeju Island?” Joohyun’s voice is tinged with hope.

“Hate to disappoint you, but we’re not going that far.” Seungwan smiles empathetically, and Joohyun grumbles in mock disappointment, prompting a small laugh from Seungwan. She props herself up as Joohyun scraps together the remnants of their takeout, and Joohyun feeds her the last bits of it almost instinctively, and Seungwan mumbles a ‘thank you’. It’s both strange and comforting to know Seungwan so well to the point where Joohyun can more or less read her mind without the other woman having to voice her thoughts, but she knows she won’t have it any other way. Not when Seungwan knows her just as well equally. Joohyun supposes it’s a product of their decade-long friendship, but Seungwan likes to pose the argument that it’s fate, that the universe had aligned for the two of them to have been in each other’s lives for as long as they have, to understand each other as deeply as they do—and then had promptly proceeded to jokingly threaten Joohyun to never leave her, earning herself an eyeroll from the older woman.

“Isn’t it boring for you if you always know where we’re going?” Joohyun asks, and Seungwan considers this, chewing slowly. She swallows.

“Well, I think bringing happiness to you is a greater gift.”

Joohyun falls quiet, and before she can ask further, Seungwan takes the empty takeout from her hands and opens the car door. Joohyun’s about to protest that she can do it instead, but Seungwan’s already making her way towards the garbage can nearby, and Joohyun can only watch as Seungwan slowly gets further away, a hand jammed into the pocket of her jeans, her footsteps light.

Seungwan is adorable when she’s concentrating, because Joohyun finds herself smiling as Seungwan’s gaze flickers from the rear-view mirror to the wing mirrors, hands busy as she eases them into an empty parking lot. There’s the increasingly frantic beeping from the car, and a gentle jerk as they reach the curb, and Seungwan finally switches off the engine, huffing out a relieved sigh. Joohyun squints through the glass, her eyes widening as she spots a sign nearby, indicating their location.

“The beach?” She turns to Seungwan, who’s smiling proudly.

“Mhm.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then a quiet, murmured ‘Thank you.’.

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s go see the sunrise, shall we?”

Seungwan’s already taking off her shoes, sinking her toes into the soft, chilly sand as she beckons to Joohyun, grinning. The gentle breeze is blowing, and Seungwan looks absolutely gorgeous, her flannel shirt fluttering in the wind, blonde hair blowing, and Joohyun’s breath catches in .

“Come on!” Seungwan calls out, and Joohyun unties her shoes with uncertain slowness, grimacing as her bare feet meets the sand. As she makes her way towards Seungwan, Seungwan’s extending her hand, and Joohyun grasps it tightly, letting Seungwan hold on to her as she steadies herself.

The sky is gradually turning lighter, a dark blue, and amidst the faint light Seungwan’s smiling as she gazes towards the sea, quietly watching as the waves crash onto shore, a comforting rhythm, and Joohyun thinks she might be a touch more than just a little bit in love.

Seungwan's treading along the shore, and Joohyun chuckles under her breath as she watches her best friend play with the waves, dancing out of the way as they lap at her feet. It’s one of the many character traits Joohyun envies in her—the ability to still have that sort of childish playfulness and light-heartedness despite the heavy weight and burden of the world, because Joohyun knows she’s definitely lost that sense of weightlessness somewhere along the line.

Of course, life always finds a way of balancing itself out, and she supposes that Seungwan is her balance, her relief, her escape into freedom in an otherwise unforgiving, stifling environment she’s found herself trapped in. Inevitably, when she’s with Seungwan, her playfulness rubs off on her, because Seungwan’s happiness is infectious that way, and Joohyun’s moving quietly behind her.

As Seungwan prepares to leap out of the way yet again, she’s abruptly met with a playful shove on her back and there’s a surprised yelp, and Joohyun laughs.

“You’re going to regret this,” Seungwan’s already lunging for her, and Joohyun squirms away before Seungwan’s fingers can grasp around her arm, laughing as Seungwan chases her down the beach. They’re sprinting at full speed, the sand flying beneath their feet, and Joohyun can’t quite remember the last time she’s been this free, even when Seungwan eventually catches up and has her firmly in her grasp.

They’re breathless and panting but still smiling nonetheless, and Joohyun finds herself wishing that this moment would never end.

“So, did I do good?” Seungwan grins, leaning back on her hands as the sea sprawls beneath them, the occasional ocean spray falling on their feet as they sit at the tide breaker pier.

Joohyun smiles. “You always do, Seungwan.”

The blonde looks away, huffing in part amusement and embarrassment. “Well, as long as you’re happy.”

“Are you?”

“Hm?”

“Happy, I mean. Are you happy, Seungwan?” Joohyun turns to look at Seungwan, who just shrugs.

“I’m happy when I’m with you.” There’s a long pause. “You know that.” She says, a little more quietly.

It’s a known fact that Seungwan wears her heart on her sleeve.

A lesser-known fact is that Joohyun knows that Seungwan’s been more than just a little in love with her since their university days.

She’s well aware that it’s all very ironic, but their paths had been vastly different then, and the uncertainties of the post-graduate world had prevented anything more between them.

Then again, life does have an odd way of balancing itself out, because Seungwan’s back by her side again, as if she’d never left.

There are many things left unsaid between them, and between Joohyun’s reluctance to talk about her own feelings and Seungwan’s desperate avoidance of conflict, the topic has never really been explicitly addressed.

The lull of the sea fills the momentary silence.

“I’m happy with I’m with you too, Seungwan.” Joohyun’s voice is soft.

Seungwan goes still for a moment, and eventually, she turns to face her, her gaze flickering uncertainly from Joohyun’s eyes to the wooden boards beneath them.

“You’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that, Joohyun.” Seungwan laughs a little, running a hand through her hair. Her eyes shift to the horizon, where the sun is just barely peeking out, a streak of light orange flooding the once-dark sky.

Then, a gentle hand cups her cheek, and Seungwan turns, only to find Joohyun watching her with what seems to be an odd mix of nervousness and determination.

She’s leaning in, and Seungwan’s eyelids are fluttering shut.

The last thing she sees is Joohyun’s lips; so, so tantalizingly close, something that Seungwan has barely ever dared to dream of, and then they’re kissing.

It’s a soft, shy, kiss that barely lasts a second; a wordless confirmation, and a reciprocation of Joohyun’s feelings.

They part, and their eyes meet.

Seungwan’s leaning in this time, and they’re kissing again, and it’s everything that she’s ever dreamt of.