Being a web developer, in Joohyun’s opinion, is a creative job more often than not, and the fact that she spends most of her time looking at language meant for machines than bedtime stories means that she is more used to strings of code than postmodern literature. The last time she had to read an actual book was back in high school, and it’s important to note that Joohyun had 1) not touched a single bounded volume since then and 2) done horribly in most of her literature classes. Novels, poems, textbooks—she hates all of them equally, and to even think about reading anything intended for academia makes her want to vomit until next week.

            But Seulgi is adventurous in her reading-heavy electives, and the assigned novel for her nineteenth-century Russian literature class sitting on their kitchen countertop is more than enough proof of that. Joohyun avoids touching the thick book as she sets down breakfast in front of Seulgi, taking her own place in front of the younger girl, who gazes expectantly at her.

            “Anna Karenina sounds like the name of a Hollywood child actress grown up to be one of those people who are only spotted eating out at malls. Kind of like that Harry Potter dude.”

            Seulgi raises an eyebrow at her girlfriend’s oddly specific and somewhat unjustifiable comment. “Well, I can assure you that that is not the case.”

            “How do you even get through a book that’s, like, a million pages?”

            “It’s only around eight-hundred something. Eight-hundred-fifty-ish to be more exact?”

            “Only?!” Joohyun clutches her chest in fear for her girlfriend. She knew Seulgi didn’t have an aversion to reading or anything—in fact, the girl quite enjoyed it—but seeing how worn out she was from homework assignments alone, there was no way that she’d survive getting through eight-hundred pages in two weeks. “You went to bed at, like, six yesterday.”

            The taller girl shrugs nonchalantly. “You do that too, sometimes.”

            “I get paid for it though!”

            A burst of concern shoots through Joohyun’s body, and she leans forward to grab the offending book. Seulgi merely watches her slides it closer, a little taken aback by the weight of it, to observe the cover. It’s a plain burgundy hardback with faint gold lettering on the front and spine, but Joohyun knows better than to trust its deceptively simple appearance. Opening