➤ This letter, however, isn’t just a reminder of what only you and I know. No, far from it. You can tell already, I figure. You have always been clever and witty like no one else, so you may also suspect my intentions; I don’t judge you.

Jiyeon didn’t buy coffee that morning.

She didn’t have the mind or the heart to walk any more than she had done and her thoughts were too turbulent to allow her the necessary stability to act like a decent human being. Noticing how, despite taking longer than usual for her to drive to work, she still managed to be there on time — five minutes earlier, if you will — didn’t help in forcing her feet on the ground and Jiyeon could barely guess how she got to her office without causing an accident.

The woman dropped on her chair as if the world had been pushed on her shoulders all at once and she sighed, the beginning of a headache threatening her just as much as the pile of work she had to do.

She asked Yuqi — ever so considerate and prestative Yuqi — to buy her coffee instead and Jiyeon could have worried about how the sudden request would come off, could have thought twice before giving her friend and her business partner a reason to appear by her door with puzzled looks, but she couldn’t care less. Not today, she repeated over and over again, even if the buzzing shaking her insides was as unsettling as Soobin and Yuqi acting as if she wasn’t with them at all. 

“What’s your guess?” Yuqi, who held the precious cup with her daily medicine, mumbled to Soobin by her side. 

“I’m not sure, maybe she got disappointed with another painting?” Soobin had a finger tapping her chin, deep in thought. “She’s always stressed so I don’t think that’s enough of a reason.”

“She didn’t even greet me when she arrived, I bet she didn’t see me. Or heard me. She seemed to be on auto pilot.” Yuqi’s tone denounced how upset she got. Soobin exhaled in worry. “She’s weird and all, but today… There’s something wrong.”

“I would appreciate it if you two stopped whispering like high school girls when I’m right here listening to everything,” the other two jumped and their startled expression gave Jiyeon her first genuine smile of the day. “I’m fine, okay? No need to worry. If something happens I’ll say it.”

“As if we can trust you when you say this,” Soobin chuckled as Yuqi ran to leave the cup in front of Jiyeon, resembling a fearful puppy. “If you want to pretend, great. We’ll be here when you need. Got it?” Jiyeon nodded in a firm way. Soobin grinned, throwing an arm around Yuqi’s shoulders. “Let’s go, kid. We have a lot to do.”

The door closed with a thud and Jiyeon understood it as her call to start. On a common day, she would whine a bit over the never ending documents, the tiring meetings coming one after another, and the way her body protested once her own limit began to beg for help, but this time the more work she had to do, the better.

Because despite doing things perfectly and professionally like always, a single break in between tasks was enough to bring her back to that rooftop, to Dayoung’s words, and the image of the faceless person bonded to her washed over her like tidal waves Jiyeon wasn’t ready in the slightest to deal with it. 

It was scary, to look down and still be able to see the arrow stuck in her body. It was even scarier to think she could stumble on that woman at any place, any time, any moment.  

Gone was the brave Jiyeon she once proud herself to be — she could admit it now. The childish impulsiveness? Killed. The incredibly big optimism? Erased. The fearless need for initiative and attitude? ing reduced to ashes. Right now she felt like a child who caused trouble at school and would be scolded the second she crossed her house’s door, and in her opinion, this wasn’t that much of an encouragement.

The scolding, indeed, came. Not from her mother, her dad, or her brother. But from Soobin, which was worse.

Way worse.

“I need more coffee,” she complained the very minute her friend crossed the space between them, the sun out of the horizon and the hours in the clock being too advanced for any of them to still linger on the building. “Go buy one for me, or ask Yuqi.”

“She’s not your servant and I already sent her home,” Soobin hummed, crossing her arms. “And no, I’ll not buy it. You will.”

Jiyeon stared at her screen, her shoulders falling.

“Please, Soobin.” She tried, but Soobin could be hard as a rock to convince and by the way her gaze burned Jiyeon, she could guess she had no way out.

“Nope, you’ve been locked in here for too long. You should go get some fresh air, Jiyeon, it does wonders to a busy mind.”

“I’m not done, I still have work to do.” 

Soobin supported herself on the desk, hovering over her with a seriousness Jiyeon despised — it was a lost battle.

“You can do it tomorrow, it isn’t urgent.” True, but Jiyeon didn’t want to think about it. “You know I love to annoy you but I hate how you drown yourself in work as if you're immune to exhaustion or burnout. I promised Dawon I would take care of you and you’re making it difficult.”  

Jiyeon leaned on her chair, giving up on continuing — talking about Dawon this way was the same as hitting her in the gut. Soobin’s worry, and impassiveness, was visible through her frown and it wasn’t like the positions hadn’t been swapped many times as well. They were constantly nagging at each other for similar reasons, Jiyeon just happened to be the most stubborn.

“God, how do Sojung and Hyunjung handle you?” It was supposed to be a grumble but the thankful playfulness wasn’t hidden.

Soobin shrugged, smugly.

“Love moves people,” her eyebrows went up and down. “Besides, I’m an amazing girlfriend. They won’t find anyone like me.”

“Of course, Miss Park,” she scowled, turning her computer off to arrange her belongings. She couldn’t stay there forever, anyway. “Hope you don’t kill my friends in the process.”  

“I mean… I can’t promise you that since we—”

“No!” She put her hands up in desperation, causing Soobin to laugh. “I don’t need to hear whatever it is that you were going to say. I’m good.” A shiver ran through her, memories of things she had heard in the past crossing her mind. “I’ll be leaving, okay? Have fun with your date night, tell your girlfriend I’ll be visiting the studio this week.”

“Which one, though? Both will be going there for the next few days,” Soobin yelled as she ran from the room. “Hey!”

“The two! Tell the two!” She screamed back, not having the chance to fully hear her friend’s mumbled complaint.

⥂⥄

Jiyeon still had her head in the clouds. In heavy and dark ones, she admitted. But at least, as the day faded into night, her hope for all of it being a dream grew and the idea of resting on her beautiful, amazing bed was a delightful thing, so she drove to her favorite cafe and made her order with nothing but that as her goal — the barista greeted her with that same charismatic smile of always, which made her mood better, and Jiyeon thanked the skies every single time for the existence of that girl

Soon her name was called and just the act of wrapping her hand around the heated material of the cup gave Jiyeon a sense of peace and while she waved goodbye to the barista to leave, she already had a planned route to take. 

She would get home, take a slow and relaxing shower, have a good meal and if sleepiness didn’t get the best of her, she would watch the movie she had been dying to watch since Luda recommended it to their group of friends.

It was just what she yearned for. 

It was a perfect plan.

A perfect plan that life made sure to destroy with a tall wall of clothes, muscles, and a perfume that was too good to even be realistic, crashing against her.

A sign, she figured, but only later. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was distracted,” the soothing voice rushed to say while preventing her from falling despite the fact that Jiyeon was the distracted one, and if she was a little bit more attentive she wouldn’t have almost hurt the stranger in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Jiyeon held back the urge to smack her own face and looked up.

She froze. 

And for a second she swore she would swoon.

“I—I’m fine, I should apologize as well,” Jiyeon blinked at the woman and she was so caught up on how gorgeous the other was that the curious frown appearing at the sound of her voice almost passed by unnoticed. “I didn’t see you.”

Her lips went up in amusement, still looking as if in search of something.

“It can happen, but wait,” she called before Jiyeon could step back. Suddenly the stranger’s eyes went wide. “Aren’t you Bona?!” She leaned down a bit and on other occasions Jiyeon would feel offended but in her eyes, that small gesture seemed lovely. “Seola’s friend?” 

Jiyeon paused. Then she remembered.

“Oh? You’re the friend she said would be coming back from China? The model one?”

The woman giggled. “So she goes around selling me as her model friend?” The fondness that took over her was undeniable. Jiyeon breathed out. “Let me introduce myself then. My name is Juyeon, Son Juyeon, and I’m Seola and Dawon’s friend. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She held her hand up with a half sheepish, half excited expression and Jiyeon couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Now I’m worried about what those dummies said about me. Should I fear how she sold me to you?” A joke, but not really. Dawon was trustworthy most of the time but Seola was a whole different story. “I’m Jiyeon, happy to finally meet you. Seola said you’re some kind of angel on Earth and I guess I can agree,” her hands moved by instinct, an unexpected sense of shyness making her go stiff. “What a small world, huh?”

“Certainly a small world,” Juyeon nodded lightly, her eyes never leaving the shorter woman. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Seola was really serious talking about the ‘best friend she never knew she needed’ and she may pretend to not like you, but it’s all a theatre.” The last part was whispered like a secret, the taller one even covered so only Jiyeon could hear it. “Also, she’s exaggerating, I’m just like anyone else; she likes to embarrass me.”

“Is she, though?” Her eyebrow went up. Juyeon paused, speechless for a second before breaking into a shy grin. 

“Hey, no teasing,” the younger one frowned.

“Fine, I’ll leave it to her.”

They went quiet but on the contrary of what usually happened, there wasn’t awkwardness, not a single trace of the common hesitance strangers should feel at a first meeting, and Jiyeon was as baffled as she felt curious over tall — heck, she was so tall —, breathtaking and charming Juyeon.

Yes, breathtaking, because Jiyeon felt like her lungs hadn’t worked properly since she saw that woman.

And yes, charming, because every move Juyeon made, every twitch of her lips, was captivating.

Odd observations, Kim Jiyeon.

“Are you free now?” Her trance was cut. “Why don’t we go out for a walk and end any first meeting discomfort before the girls force us to?”

Jiyeon could say no. Her body was begging for the ease of her apartment, the tingling of the arrow kept bothering her and she had faced way too many emotions for a single day.

She had a movie to watch. Movie nights were sacred.

“Sure, there’s a park not far from here, I bet you’ll like it.” Screw it. “Did you take your order already?”

Juyeon shook the cup in her hand. “Yeah, let’s go,” then proceeded to grab Jiyeon’s free hand with her own to kindly drag her out of the cafe.

The older woman waited for the annoyance to come, waited even for her brain to send her on a creeped out spiral of complaints about the sudden touch, however… Nothing happened. Nothing. As if they had done this a million times in the past and this was just the ordinary for them. 

It wasn’t. 

For ’s sake, it wasn’t.

And while she tried to manage that notion throughout their walk, Jiyeon still had to endure the agitated voices in her head questioning the fact that, all in all, being with Juyeon was natural. It wasn’t as simple as feeling like it; no, in a matter of minutes in which she found herself more at ease and like her true self than she had been with anyone else in a first meeting — sometimes even after years of knowing someone —, Jiyeon realized that it simply was natural. It simply fell into place. It simply happened the way it should be.

Because their talk held the laughs and the playfulness of longtime friends and when Juyeon stood close, their arms tangled by themselves, leaving to them the surprise of realizing it steps after. And she quickly realized that Juyeon liked to make her smile — no one had ever put that much effort in doing it, not even Xuanyi — so by the time they had to part, since Jiyeon was too tired and her companion had her own date with Dawon to go, the soft hug they shared didn’t came off as shocking.

Hesitant because their lines were blurred, but caring enough for Juyeon to exhale in what Jiyeon could only compare to a satisfied kitten.  

Which made her happy, honestly. Juyeon was friends with people she loved dearly so in her head, putting aside everything that seemed to make her… a special case, it was her duty as a friend to take care of the younger woman just the same, regardless of the rest. 

Jiyeon had yet to leave that cloud nine Juyeon threw her in when the woman started to walk away, crossing the street with a small grin on her face. With a bit of distance between them, Juyeon soon turned into a fading figure but then she decided to put her cap on, and the second she looked at the ground Jiyeon was forced to conclude the unchangeable, and horrifying, new truth of her life:

Out of every existent possibility, Juyeon was the person bonded to her.

It was her.

“, Im Dayoung!”

➤ A part of you will always blame me for at least a few of the tragedies in your life. Or love, especially the ones you lost or failed in keeping. Sometimes though, one can forget that even in the greatest force lies a weakness, a blind spot, and it’s hard. Loving and being loved isn’t an easy task, you know by experience. There are days where you don’t feel like yourself. There are days where even the slightest of the touches hurt you deeply. There are tears. There’s loss. 

Jiyeon was stressed.

Or not, really. Maybe it wasn’t stress per se. She was trying to figure it out as well since it was less about the grueling sense of wanting something to stop and more of the anxiety that came with overthinking, that came with the terror of being incapable of controlling what she wanted.

Overthinking wasn’t one of her traits. Soobin had this spot for herself and Jiyeon had been praised over and over again for overcoming such a curse in crucial moments, but every time her phone lit up with a text followed by that very specific name and emoji, she felt just like her friend did when they went through hell in the past. Whenever her work failed in keeping her fully distracted, Jiyeon found herself worrying — about Dayoung, about the mission they both received —, scratching senseless lines on a random paper to relieve her tension or sighing as if expelling air from her lungs could help her somehow.

“Are you trying to communicate through a new type of morse code or something?” Soobin had asked her one day right when she entered her office room and sighed out of habit. “You’ve been doing that a lot.”

“Sojung does the same.”

Soobin chuckled under her breath.

“She does it when she’s annoyed or feeling left out,” she explained with a dismissive wave. “I just have to kiss it away,” a shrug. “With you... I can only complain, otherwise you’ll beat me up.”  

Now Jiyeon not only had to behave inside her own skin in order to not explode with her thoughts but also had to worry about how many times she sighed in a row since it could denounce her state of distress. Great. Amazing.

Anyhow, it wasn’t like Juyeon was a problem. Far from it. And that was the real problem.

This is the worst type, she remembered Luda saying once, the type that seems innocent but in reality is coming to drive us crazy.

She excluded the fact that her dear, dear friend directed those words to her, of course. 

So once complaining in her own way to Soobin and avoiding any dangerous questions from her other friends got too exhausting, it was time for Jiyeon to go to her hideaway. First at a thursday after work, second at a saturday early morning, then all days of the week whenever she could make space in her schedule.

Dawon or Yeonjung was always there to greet her at the door and if she came too late, the empty hallways were her host. 

“I’m back,” she whispered after turning the lights on, experiencing peace just then.

Jiyeon loved to work in the marketing company. Being Soobin’s partner never stopped being something that made her proud and each new achievement, each new obstacle they jumped over together was a precious mark in her history. But nothing in the world could compare to what she felt with a paintbrush in hand and a canvas in front of her.

Nothing.

And it was in that place, empty of the chaos outside and full with the colorful mess that resided within her and her creations, that Jiyeon allowed herself to let go and materialize what pained her inside.

She painted arrows. Many of them. Wings were the next on the list and it didn’t take much for the faceless, but not nameless, woman to appear too.

“Oh wow, are you trying to create a series?” Yeonjung asked with the delightful enthusiasm only she could own as she admired the paintings left to dry. 

It was a saturday, all sunny and clear blue sky. Any person in their right mind would be home enjoying the free time after days of work, but not Jiyeon and her groups of friends, apparently. 

“These are loose ones, I don’t even know why I painted them.”

She did. Oh, how she did. Yeonjung didn’t have to know, though.

“Okay, Miss Artist,” she nodded after standing up in front of her and if Jiyeon weren’t cleaning her hands, she would have fixed Yeonjung’s red locks just to earn one of those sweet giggles. “Hope you’re done, Seola threatened to kidnap me to a gym night if I don’t take you out right now. They all want you to meet our new photographer.”

“She’s so dramatic,” Jiyeon rolled over her eyes, throwing the dirty piece of cloth on her chair to follow the taller woman’s lead.  

From afar she could see the small crowd gathered at the reception of Ludawon’s Studio — the nickname given by Chengxiao. The studio was for photographers, like Sojung, designers, architects, teachers, and even art workshops for people of all ages; it was Luda’s dream to create a place that could shelter these people, people like them, and Dawon embraced it like her own even before they started dating.

The place was still in its starting phase, being barely two years old, but it already reached great lengths and Jiyeon wouldn’t be worried about its success.

“That was fast, did you bribe her?” Luda screamed, making the rest laugh.

“I’m experienced,” Yeonjung narrowed her eyes before throwing her hair to the side.

“What’s so important that someone needs to be threatened by this cold-hearted woman to come get me, huh?” Jiyeon poked Hyunjung’s arms, jumping to the side both to avoid an answer and to greet Sojung with a squeeze on her arm.

Hyunjung gasped. “Look who’s talking, ice princess,” they sneered at each other. “I promised to introduce you to her, didn’t I?! You were the one who threatened to make hell out of my life if I didn’t!” 

Jiyeon dodged another slap but stopped functioning the moment her attention landed on the person standing by Dawon’s side. She met expecting eyes, the familiar, although distinct, trembling her heart experienced a week or so ago and which she had partially forgotten how gripping it felt.

It took us long enough to see each other again, she guessed.

“You didn’t tell me you were a painter,” Juyeon commented with a bright smile, not denying her enjoyment towards the bickering but not hiding her surprise.

“You didn’t tell me you were a photographer,” Jiyeon broke into an equal smile, stepping closer to the younger one. 

Questioning eyes were on them. Neither of them cared.

“I had to keep the mystery for a while, or else you would lose interest in me,” Juyeon defended, crossing her arms. “You on the other hand… I’m speechless. Should I feel hurt that you didn’t even think about telling me?”

“I literally sat through you talking about how much you love weird variety shows. You know better, Juyeon.” The older one held her chin up a bit, arching her eyebrow just to make Juyeon chuckle. “You’re not the only one keeping the mystery.”

“From what I’m gathering, my theory that you’re a box of surprises, and secrets, it’s more true than you let me know,” her body twitched forwards and she calmly crossed her hands on her back. Jiyeon wondered if this was Juyeon’s way of preventing herself from hugging her in front of everyone so soon. She could tell, by the little time they knew each other, how much of an affectionate person that woman was — Jiyeon was actually surprised they weren’t closer.

“Maybe,” came in a whisper. They grinned in sync.

“Can someone tell me what I missed?” Sojung mumbled to her girlfriend who shrugged just as confused. “Didn’t you tell me they didn’t know each other, like… At all?”

“That’s what I was led to believe,” it was Seola’s turn to cross her arms and glare at Juyeon. “You lied to me,” she accused in fake drama. “You too, and you’re worse than her.”

The painter pointed a finger at herself, confused, and Juyeon scowled, going to the older one’s side to cling onto her. “No, I didn’t. I used my right of not naming people, simple as that.”

 They started arguing — in a cute and overly sweet way, but arguing nonetheless — and it didn’t take long for Dawon, Luda and Yeonjung to be restraining Jiyeon into a human cell.

“It was by chance, I have nothing else to say,” Jiyeon tried to reason. But Luda’s eyes became a thin line of suspicion and Dawon, despite having more fun than anything, still had that not-convinced frown on her forehead. Yeonjung didn’t bother hiding her skepticism.

Nothing new under the sun, she would say. The idea of not needing enemies due to the friends she had was no foreign conception.

So they argued a little more and Juyeon had to dote on both Seola and Dawon, Sojung entered the game somehow too, for some time until the nerves calmed down and they remembered why they were there in the first place.  

“She’ll be working with me, but also helping everyone else. She’s kind of our do-all, I bet the kids will like her,” Sojung explained and Jiyeon was as delighted as she was in the middle of a crisis hanging between utter happiness and complete apprehension.

Juyeon working at the studio meant they would be seeing each other often. Increasingly often, probably. And Jiyeon wasn’t sure if she could tackle the way her body, her mind, reacted whenever the younger one was around.

It’s that damn arrow.  

“Why don’t you take her to your painting room before we help her on a quick tour?”

Dawon only had to suggest it for Juyeon’s face to light up and for her to be grabbing the shorter woman by the wrist, not making a single effort to contain her euphoria. 

Jiyeon couldn’t take her there, however. Not yet, at least. Not when her cupid’s prank would be as exposed as the sun in the sky the minute Juyeon recognized the figure in the last painting she did. 

She still had some dignity to protect.

“Eunseo.” The older one called and she stopped, overly alert at the usage of the name. “Can I take you there another day?”

The hesitance, as well as the hints of fearfulness, weren’t covered by something else; Jiyeon didn’t intend on pretending. Juyeon understood it. Understood all the layers behind those words. And there wasn't any protest from her part. Instead, she chose to cover the hand keeping her still and squeeze it, retracting a step.

Supportive, comprehensive.

“No problem, whenever you feel like it,” she blinked in a playful way. “Let me take you to my personal working room then. I won’t be there much but I already like it.”

Their fingers tangled with little to no acknowledgment from their part and once again Jiyeon was being dragged by the younger woman — not that she had a complaint about it. 

Before losing sight of their friends, though, she managed to get a glimpse of the expression on Dawon’s face. It was the one Jiyeon dreaded the most, the one of someone who knows way more than anyone else could possibly bet, and if the earlier sign took a bit to reach her, this one, in particular, reached Jiyeon right in the core with no mercy.

⥂⥄

Like a curse she couldn’t get rid of, the poor painter started to see Dayoung everywhere. On her way to work, on her way to the studio, when she went to the grocery store, when her eyes slipped to the windows of her office; even in one of the group’s dinner night Dayoung made sure to be right there, in the corner, sitting with legs and arms crossed while watching her with a frown and a fiery gaze.

Jiy