Inhale. Exhale. It was her first time returning after her departure a few years back. Everything looks the same but feels different. The reason for her return, she’s not sure.

She hailed a taxi, told the driver the address and decided to squeeze in a few minutes of shut-eye before grinding for work again. She made a name as an artist in a foreign land. They seemed to have welcomed her vision warmly and admired her pieces. The girl was grateful for her success but after all that, it was time to go home. She chuckled. Is this really home?

She opened the door to an all-too-familiar house. Hugged by the scent of pepper paste and kimchi, a smile formed on her lips. It lead her to their small kitchen and from there, she saw the man who raised her single-handedly.

“Dad.” She softly called out. The sound made the man turn around.

“Oh. You’re here.” He wiped his hands on his apron and went towards her, arms extending ready to engulf her into a massive embrace.

The hug came in just in time. She missed this old man. A stubborn tear made its way out and before she knows it, they are falling like a rainstorm.

“Hush, Sol-ah. I missed you too.” His voice, always calm and fatherly. Always ready to protect her. This is home, despite lacking, but it is home.

Her father let go. A few strands of hair went disarray which were tucked in by sturdy hands. He chuckled looking at his daughter. No matter how grown she became, she will still be his little girl.

“Go and freshen up a bit. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” At the command, the tall girl can only nod.

Her room remained untouched. Small, outdated and a bit dusty, nevertheless, her. At the turn of the nozzle, delicate droplets met her skin. Caressing her aching muscles from the flight. Refreshing and rejuvenating.

Her shower took longer than expected but her dad still waited for her to come down. “Took you long enough. Let’s eat.”

The dinner was heavenly to say the least. Korean food really taste best if cooked authentically. Because Paris might be the city of romance and art, but their taste buds, peculiar. In her opinion.

With every swallow of the tofu stew, she realizes her longing for her favorite meals. That’s not the only thing you miss. A sudden thought emerged which she quickly buried subconsciously. Now was not the time to think of those things. The past should stay in the past. Her energy needs to be saved, because her exhibition will open in a couple of weeks.

Dishes were made and goodnights were said. A body lain in a vintage bed, unmoving yet awake. Pitter patters heard which lulled her to slumber.

—————

A ring made her look away from her the piece she was making. It was her friend.

“Yah, Yoo Nabi. Fancy of you to call me.” Her deep voice delicately broke the silence of the studio. The conversation was put on speaker as she decided to wash her hands from all the clay.

“Yoon Sol! How dare you not call me when you landed?” Exasperation evident on her voice. Nabi was the only person she kept in contact with when she left. Nabi and her father. She supported Sol in any way possible, whether it be her art or her feelings. Nabi’s unprejudiced reaction when she told her about her lingering feelings stayed with her. Unforgotten like it was just yesterday. She trusted her and she’s thankful for her.

“Yah, yah. Please stop shouting. I’m sorry I just forgot.” She excused. Honestly not intending on contacting her until she’s settled.

“Forgot, my . You don’t have plans of contacting me, you jerk.” 

She chuckled. “If you knew, why still ask?” Her tone laced with teasing which earned her a gasped on the other line.

“Okay. I’ll pretend you didn’t just say that cause you’re you and you’re a jerk but we need to talk. I need to tell you something.”

The seriousness in Nabi’s voice at the last statement set off an alarm in the taller’s brain. Why does it sound so urgent? She thought.

Due to her lack of response, Nabi decided to add, “I’ll send you the details.” And then she was gone. The call ended but it started a spiral in the other.

—————-

They met at the stall they frequent long ago. It was their favorite eating place after the long day from art school. The image of her vividly get things from Sol’s plate because she wants to and Sol just lets her because it’s her. The random laughs they shared because of her random antics and stories. Sol wiping her hands because she gets them dirty like a toddler at times. Those image. Memories which inhibition doesn’t have a chance of concealing. Resurfacing as she drowns in them.

The chair moved indicating an arrival. “You’re late, Yoo Nabi.” She stated jokingly. It was meant to appease the panting girl who evidently ran.

“Whatever. I miss you too.” Nabi poured herself a glass of water and chugged it down. Massaging her chest at the sudden ache its experiencing.

The food arrived in time and Sol handed the other her favorite dish. Hand motioning for her to eat first. Nabi reluctantly started downing the food with obvious glances to Sol which did not remain unnoticed. Ignorance is bliss and the taller believed so. Choosing to prolong the agonizing atmosphere between the two friends but clink of two chopsticks ended the piercing silence.

“Okay. I can’t hold it in. I need to tell you this now.” Nabi’s voice made Sol look up, never breaking the stare. A nod signaled for her to continue. Moments has passed, still the two were engulfed an unexplainable atmosphere.

“Yoo Nabi. Use your words so I’ll kn…” The taller decided to speak up but the sudden interruption left her speechless. 

“Seo Jiwan in getting married.”

A shatter resonated at the restaurant. Whether it came from the clumsy table or from her own beating chest, she can’t quite place.

-----------------------

Sleep never came that night. No amount of control can win against this agonizing pinch that settled in her heart. Seo Jiwan is getting married. Nabi’s words echoes as a broken record, mocking her, consuming her. After all those years, she still has tug on Sol’s heartstring. The attempt of moving on was futile anyways.

Long legs strides on the late street of Seoul. Heavy and daunting. Only accompanied by the flickering street lights on her path, the solitude she welcomed. Well walking should relieve stress, right?

With a mind of their own, her steps led her to someone’s house. It looks the same and whether it was her senses playing tricks on her, she swears of a familiar vanilla scent. Funny how running away long ago led her back here. You are ridiculous, Yoon Sol. The longing in her eyes seeps as she stared at window on the second floor. She was lost in a trance. The window serving as her screen remembering their slumber parties, sleep overs or movie nights which eventually ends with entangled limbs on a single bed once energy was drained. Euphoric. 

A Sudden interruption from her daze pulled her back to reality. The front door revealed her. Dazzling as she can remember, maybe even more. Orbs met which electrified Sol. It’s exhilarating yet devouring. No movement made, her legs glued into place but the distance decreasing with each passing second. A safe distance established, eyes never leaving each other. Soundless but deafening.

The softest melody pierced her ears, “Yoon Sol...”

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I did not plan it to be this angsty,  I swear. Please don't kill me. Enjoy reading!