Hey there everyone. Here I am with the last one, and I'll let my final words for the end, but for those who were afraid of this being angst... Come on people, I got your back, besides, I don't make people suffer without warning first 😉

Enjoy!

“Here we are.” 

Jiyeon announced once the car stopped in front of Hyunjung’s house, where Juyeon had been living.

“Look at you all courteous, are you trying to win points with Seola and Sojung?”

The older one laughed lighter than a feather, adjusting her body to her seat to have the perfect view of her company, who was just as giddy, being touched by the moonlight reaching them. 

Beautiful.

She scoffed. “Come on, we've been over it for ages. Besides, Seola is the one who needs to win points with me, she’s dating two of my childhood friends after all.”

“You two are really something,” she closed her eyes, the sweet smile on her face making Jiyeon’s chest ache. “So alike but so different.” 

“The best are like that, we can’t help it,” Juyeon denied with her head at Jiyeon’s dismissive wave. “You know that pretty well, don’t you?”

The taller one’s jaw dropped. 

“Can’t help if I have good taste,” it was her turn to shrug. “You seem pretty satisfied with yourself.”

“I am,” Jiyeon said, more serious. “It’s you, I would be crazy if I didn't.”  

Juyeon paused, wanting to answer but being stuck on a type of shyness she only displayed on special moments. The sudden color on her cheeks followed by her eyes going down so fast that her body went to the side made fondness bloom inside Jiyeon with the strength of a hard-hitting wave.

She was doomed in the best way.  

“Hey, are you shy?” She questioned just to tease and the taller one groaned, trying to dodge the hands that wanted to grab her cheeks. “Why are you shy?!”

“Stop bullying me,” Juyeon whined, pouting and crunching her nose as Jiyeon took hold of her face.

The older one ran her thumb over the shade of red heating up the soft skin. “Don’t hide from me,” she asked in a low tone. “You don’t have to.”

“Neither have you,” Juyeon caressed the shorter one’s wrists. “I meant what I said.”

“So did I,” Jiyeon retracted her arms to her lap. “I’m sorry I haven’t been transparent with you. Little dumb painter here has been on a roll of bad luck and doing exactly what she promised she wouldn’t, but I can’t keep going like that if I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Juyeon choked on air for a bit, widening her eyes just like before.

“You can’t say things like that without a warning, Kim Jiyeon!”

“What’s the surprise, though? I've been in love with you for way too long and that’s the least I can do.”

“Woman, are you trying to kill me?!”

“I’m making sure you know what’s on my mind before you regret it,” Jiyeon said with simplicity, watching Juyeon deny with her head in disbelief. “The only thing I want it’s to bring you happiness and if I know myself well, I failed every time I tried acting like that. I don't want you to be another one in the list, I want to burn that list and forget it ever existed.”

So we’re finally having that conversation echoed in her mind and the painter resigned to it. Just like Juyeon only gave her bits about certain parts of her story, especially in regards to why she moved to China, Jiyeon hadn’t talked objectively about her exes.

The right time always comes, as expected, and if her friend had a bandaid to rip, then she had too. 

More than she would like to admit, actually. 

She saw the younger woman shift on her seat, playfulness being put on standby for a while. 

“Which one hurt the most?”

“Hyunjung?” A false bet. “Meiqi, surely. Luda hurt a lot but because I didn’t treat her right, she deserved someone better. Xuanyi got me in my immature phase, no one should deal with so much jealousy and so many demands although she did the same with me. With Hyunjung was…” Jiyeon chuckled. “Short and intense. Really intense. I felt out of my mind with her.” Juyeon’s eyebrows went up with a smirk. The older one rolled her eyes. “Chengxiao was the least problematic, I guess. She’s my first love, I learned a lot with her, but getting over her was worse than getting good grades in math.”

“You’re not alone,” Juyeon twisted her lips and they shared a knowing glance. She knew all about the “out of one’s mind” and “impossible of getting over” thing.

Quietness settled for some time and Jiyeon was aware of who she had to talk about next. 

She looked out the window, letting out a short, breathy chuckle in resignation.

“I gave too much of myself to Meiqi but she never asked for it. She wanted a friend, a partner, someone she could count on, but I offered everything I had in an attempt to make her stay. There was nothing for me by the end of it, so when she left me for Xuanyi it didn’t make sense. How could she trade me for something she didn’t know if it would work?” A comforting hand landed on her thigh; she covered it with her own. “She said we would end up regretting it if we didn’t break up while we had time. She didn’t love me anymore, I felt it, but didn’t want to see because I did love her more than myself to be able to let go.”

Her focus went to their hands together. She caressed Juyeon’s knuckles.

“They’re going to marry next spring,” Jiyeon bit her lip. “They want me as one of their bridesmaids, and I want to stand by them on that day, but imagining it makes me feel weird. I’m not as healed as I want to be yet, and though they understand, there’s a lot of history between us that I don’t want to burn down with my own problems.” Then, her eyes found Juyeon’s. “That’s why I’m afraid of you and what I feel for you. If you decide to break me too I won’t recover and I’m exhausted of watching everyone go while I stay.” 

“Who said I’ll go?” Her eyebrow went up. “Can you promise it won’t be you who’ll do it?”

The older woman turned to her. “You’re not getting rid of me,” she brought their hands to her lips. “It’s too late for you. I didn’t leave you when I had the chance, and I had it, so I won’t do it now.”

“Don’t you go thinking you’re the only one,” Juyeon frowned in amusement. “You have more reasons to fear me never giving you peace than following their steps.” It was her turn to bring their hands to her lips. She left a chaste kiss on the back of Jiyeon’s. “Take your time to believe me, I’m not that different from you.”

Jiyeon nodded in a slow move and their foreheads connected, she didn’t need anything more.

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that Dawon predicted us ending up like this,” the younger one kissed her forehead. “Luda’s aware, too. I think that’s why she lured me into fighting you.”

“You didn’t fight me,” Jiyeon sighed, happy. “You woke me up before I could make a mistake again,” she backed off, already opening the door. “Time to get in before dumb and dumber comes to chase me away.” 

“If they try to have the talk with me I’m running from that place,” Juyeon grumbled, intertwining their fingers to walk to the white door. “I’m traumatized after living with them and they have no morals to teach me anything.”

“They’ll be hurt if they hear that,” Jiyeon laced the taller woman’s neck with her arms. 

“My ears are more, they bicker too much.” 

Their lips found each other with ease, wanting to establish the familiarity they felt even there. 

“Good night, Jiyeon,” came after a peck on the cold cheeks. 

“Good night, Juyeon,” came after their shared grins.

The older one watched the other enter the house and didn’t contain the relieved, dreamy giggle that bubbled from and turned into butterflies once out in the wind. Their wings were prettier than the darkness of their home allowed her to recognize and this time she wanted to fly by their side instead of simply witnessing them fade in grey smoke. 

➤She’ll show you, exactly how she has been doing since you two stumbled upon each other. You’ll feel afraid at times, Jiyeon. It won’t be an easy road. You’ll have to keep pushing, you’ll have to keep moving as if you’re going to war and coming back defeated isn’t an option. Because Juyeon isn’t connected to you only due to your destinies being tangled; what you two have comes from somewhere else, from some other time, and I hope you realize that soon. 

“Look who decided to listen to me!”

Jiyeon hardened like a stone at the sight of Dayoung laying on top of her car’s hood with a pose that looked too funny and too ridiculous for someone with her clothes, her job — if she could call it like that — and her mission on that place.

Ridiculous, sure, but no less amusing. Or infuriating. Perhaps being angry at Dayoung would be as constant as her childish resentment towards the people controlling her life from up there.

“What? Are you going to say ‘I told you so’?”

“Of course not! I’m not like this,” she arranged herself to get comfortable, oblivious to Jiyeon’s narrowed gaze towards her. “It’s a win for me, honestly. You became professional at ignoring the things I try to advise you to do so you can’t imagine my delight in knowing that, for once, you’re allowing me to work properly. It has been painful years, Jiyeon, you have no idea how much I suffered.”

The human crossed her arms, thinking about the best way of pushing the cupid and maybe attempting against her life for fun — Dayoung talked too much —, however, someone else did it for her. Not the killing part, unfortunately: Yeoreum wasn’t the type to end things that fast.  

“Jump off.” 

Lee Yeoreum, as she had introduced herself on their second meeting — not on the first since she was too angry at her protegé to talk — was a guardian angel of few words or no words at all. Sometimes she sounded almost mechanical, her voice being the complete opposite of what someone with such a strong presence and piercing eyes usually had, but she presented herself in her blueish clothes and calm composure as a creature deserving of respect; she moved as if she knew every single thing about the universe and Jiyeon wouldn’t doubt it. 

Jiyeon also thought of Yeoreum as the cutest person she had ever met. She wouldn’t say it out loud, though. Who could guarantee her that her angel would let her survive after uttering such a thing?

Exactly, no one, so she wouldn’t test her luck — it was pitiful enough already.

“But I’m not—”

“Jump off, I’m not asking again.” 

“You’re not even asking, you’re ordering me around!”

“Same thing,” she arched her eyebrows. 

“If I were you, I would obey her,” Jiyeon said unpretentiously. “Didn’t you tell me you knew the dangers of challenging her? Shouldn’t you give the example?”

“For who? You?!” Dayoung gasped. “Look at her, Yorm, she’s getting brave. She’s always finding a way to tease me.”

“Your influence.”

“My—” She turned to her colleague, offended. “What do you mean by my influence?! I’m a good person! I’m a good cupid! I don’t deserve this.” 

“You’re so dramatic, it’s insane.” 

The pink-haired woman glared at Jiyeon.

“I swear I’m a day away from throwing a chair at her,” it was supposed to sound threatening but Yeoreum’s gaze on her was two times scarier than anything she could say. The human whistled to contain a laugh.

“I’ll be the one throwing a chair at you if you touch her or if you don’t jump off now.”

Dayoung did as told with a startled expression, barely maintaining her balance once landed on the ground by the angel’s side. 

Their dynamic was interesting to observe. Noticing how comfortable and used to each other they were was as easy as identifying who had the last word on the relationship; Jiyeon wondered how long they had to be together to end up this way, and whenever they weren’t arguing or just feeding each other’s annoyance, they were enjoying the simplest kind of peacefulness only lifetime — lifetimes, possibly — partners could have. 

“I would love to tell you not to listen to her but I can’t, so listen to her with caution, Jiyeon.” Yeoreum looked at her, smiling in a soft way no one else could do. “You do your best here and we’ll do our best up there.”

“I can’t promise anything, though.”

“You’re so much cooler when you’re quiet,” the angel hissed. “I’ll keep her from bothering you, don’t you worry. The important thing here has been accomplished and surprisingly, even for me, you’re on the right path.” 

Jiyeon blinked. She didn’t know how to take those words; she opted for a compliment, then. It was less worrisome, in her opinion. 

“Now, let’s leave. We’re all busy and you have exposed us for way too long,” she grabbed Dayoung by the arm, ignoring the discontent on her colleague’s face

“I’m not exposing us, no one but her can see us!”

“Humans can sense us, Im Dayoung!”

“Not my problem.”

“Of course it's your problem, you’re causing it!”

“Well, no. It’s not like I’m interfering in their lives and I’ve been doing my job properly, I should ask for a raise from Fate.”

“She’ll kick you out again. I hope she does, I need laughter,” she focused on the human for a bit, leaving a supportive, bordering on fond, squeeze on her shoulder. “You’re doing well, Jiyeon. Don’t forget that,” she mumbled before smiling wider while Dayoung, who still rambled without pause, tried to escape her. “Stop complaining, I know how to shoot arrows too.” 

“You’re an angel! You can’t threaten me like this.”

“You can drive even a heavenly creature crazy.”

Then she waved to Jiyeon, her wings — gorgeous, shiny, and huge wings — showing off in a second to take flight with Dayoung chained to her.

She watched them fly higher and higher in the sky until they disappeared, moving on to her destination once the initial shock any meeting with the duo caused her subdued. 

Another normal day in her life, Jiyeon often reasoned to herself. 

Another senseless day, that is. But she wouldn’t dare asking more questions than necessary, her sanity depended on it.

So she kept walking, grinning like an idiot at the thought of how much Yeoreum would scold Dayoung later just to grin even more like an idiot when she reached the park and the figure of her friends appeared on her visual field. Days of pure disconnection with the responsibilities of their daily lives were rare, which made them sacred, and Soobin’s talk about getting some air doing wonders to a busy mind was, indeed, true.

It wasn’t just the air though. It was the clear sky of an afternoon bordering its end working along with the sound of running kids and relaxed people moving in between trees. It was the sensation of not being so lost or imprisoned inside her own body anymore and Jiyeon certainly could enjoy, after being so focused on her own messy self, the feeling of being out there with freedom as her friend.  

“Here,” she laid a hand over Luda’s head to call for her attention, as well as Dawon’s, and give her the bag of popsicles. “Hope you didn’t wait for long.”

“Nah, we’re good,” Luda smiled at her as Dawon got up to search for her favorite flavor before anyone could take it. “We call the other idiots in love or we could eat it all by ourselves, what do you think?” 

Dawon gazed up at her girlfriend with a dumbfounded expression. Jiyeon snorted.

“You’re also an idiot in love, Lee Luda. We all are.” The way she gestured and slowed her pace was shamelessly patronizing, making Dawon stifle a laugh and Luda shake her head in disapproval. “Just call them before Sojung comes whining, you know how she gets when she’s around her girlfriends.”

“Look who’s talking,” it was Luda’s turn to accuse, but Jiyeon couldn’t care less. “You turn into a baby when Juyeon’s around.”

“Your girl can say the same about you, isn’t it, Dawonie?” Her eyes went forward in search of a certain tall and energetic woman, ignoring her friend’s dissatisfied groan. 

“Don’t mess with my girl, Kim Jiyeon,” the grumbled warning made the older one chuckle. 

“Far from me attempting against my own survival, thanks,” she tapped Luda’s head again. “Where’s my girl, then?”

“Entertaining Banggu,” Dawon answered, pointing at where the two ran with more excitement than all the kids around them combined. “Although I believe it should be the other way around.”

“Is there anything to be surprised about?” The three of them denied. Jiyeon crossed her arms, sighing like a high schooler at how bright Juyeon’s smile was even from afar. “They’re happy, that’s what matters.”

“Whipped,” Luda forced a cough. The older one ignored. “But, talking about being happy, how’s your heart knowing that Chengxiao is coming back?” The hint of teasing wasn’t hidden but the fondness on Luda’s tone was undeniable.

Everyone loved Chengxiao. That was the rule.

“Thrilled,” she looked down at the couple. “Remember me to complain a lot for her to not be far from us for too many years, guess my calls didn’t work in convincing her.”

“Let Juyeon do the talking, I guess it would work better,” Luda shrugged, paying attention to her popsicle. “You would rather cry than scold that girl and I don’t think this gives you much credibility.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Jiyeon rolled her eyes at her friend but it wasn’t like she was lying.

They watched a tired Juyeon approach with Banggu on her arms and the rest of the group by her side, Soobin with a sharp tongue ready to interrogate them on why they hadn’t been called as Seola clung onto her and Sojung pouted. Yeonjung was way too worried about the sweet to care about anything else.

“You said you would tire the puppy out for us but it seems that you’re more tired,” Dawon pointed out in amusement, standing to take Banggu and let her friend greet her girlfriend. 

“I’m committed to my promises,” Juyeon defended but still scowled, leaning down a bit for Jiyeon to fix her hair and give her a peck. “Hey.”  

The older woman tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and kissed the tip of her nose. 

“Hey.”

There weren’t many things that changed now that Juyeon was her girlfriend — yes, her girlfriend. Not that she expected absurdities or jaw-dropping surprises, but for Jiyeon, it felt less like starting something and more like adding details to an already existing place they called theirs, purposefully naming what they couldn’t understand before and embracing all the dangers, and blessings, that being together offered to them.  

Which, needless to say, was odd. And interesting, to a mind that worked so hard to walk on an invisible line that more and more revealed itself as nonexistent since the beginning. 

They were the same and they acted, mostly, the same, with the photographer always complaining about Jiyeon’s addiction to caffeine and the painter being way too weak for Juyeon for her own good. 

Still, Jiyeon found out that she was just as terrified as she had been the whole time — how could she have peace knowing that even the cosmos were conspiring to make her suffer? Kind of impossible, she argued. Being sure of Juyeon’s feelings and agreeing that they wanted the same thing didn’t do much to soothe the worries that haunted her, but she had been paralyzed by fear for a painfully long period and more than hating her penchant for being an idiot, or at the very least being hopeless and useless when in love, Jiyeon hated the things she didn’t do, the decisions she didn’t make or made wrongly. 

Then, like a dare to the bigger forces and her own capacity as a collector of remorse, she promised Juyeon her best. Not as an empty assurance, the younger woman deserved much more than that, but as a goal she was willing to do anything to achieve.

Deep down, she owed herself another chance. Jiyeon realized it every time Juyeon seemed taken aback about her ways of dealing with herself or how a glint of sheer understanding crossed the woman’s face whenever she couldn’t explain her impulsive behaviors or unsettling quietness when feeling overwhelmed. Jiyeon had been on all ends of a relationship and she was no stranger to hurt, what she failed to get, though, was that her girlfriend was just as experienced and struggled on her own as well, making them more than simple acquaintances in the school of heartbreak. 

As a consequence, she owed a chance to Juyeon just the same because God did Jiyeon wanted to love that woman right — do things right for once. She wanted that smile safe, that loudness free to be and create how much chaos it liked; that golden spirit protected to live and go on without anyone to dictate what she should do.

Jiyeon loved her. 

In her essence, in her complexity.

Loved her every day. Every second she spent awake — even in her dreams. And a lot about loving Juyeon was facing her own problems, the demons she dodged but who eventually would need to be recognized, not because the younger woman forced her to, but because Jiyeon wanted to be better — for herself, for Juyeon, for the people around. 

That love never stopped growing; Jiyeon hoped it would become a beautiful flower someday, and if they were lucky, maybe an even prettier garden.

“Oh look at how sad she is,” she reflected Hyunjung’s upset expression in mockery once she sat on the other side of the kitchen’s balcony, both of them watching Sojung, Soobin, and Eunseo walking back and forth with endless boxes.

Juyeon was moving out to her own apartment while Soobin, at last, would be moving in with her girlfriends. A younger Jiyeon who had known Soobin and Sojung for as long as she could remember would never believe such a thing — or catastrophe, it depends on your point of view — could happen. Not with work-addicted Sojung or compromise-free Soobin. But there they were and their partner was no other than Kim Hyunjung, her ex and possibly the biggest teacher in the arts of being rendered insane by a woman.

Life has funny ways of working. 

Hyunjung huffed. “You don’t know how it feels to see her moving again,” she sank on the chair. “I feel like I’m losing a part of me.”

“She’ll be twenty minutes from here, you’re not losing anything. You’re gaining,” Jiyeon pointed to Soobin who stopped in the middle of the living room to answer a text. The short one ran a hand through her hair and smiled before going after Sojung, earning a soft exhale from Hyunjung. “She’s a handful but so is Sojung and she’s been wanting to live with you two since that drunk talk of marrying them.”

“She’s fast,” the older one chuckled. 

“I’m actually surprised that this didn’t happen sooner.” 

“And I was afraid Juyeon would be moving with you instead. She’s fast too, I think that’s why she and Soobin work so well together,” they exchanged worried looks for a second. “Good thing her brain still works, living with you is difficult.”

“Hey, you almost did it yourself,’ Jiyeon frowned with playfulness. 

“Exactly.” 

The shorter one attempted to slap Hyunjung but decided to give up, she was in a good mood and her friend needed emotional support at this crucial moment.

“Being honest….” The whispered start called for her. “I’m happy things are going well for her, for you two. I promised to not disclose any secrets but you got her bad and if I say that I didn’t fear when she told me about you I would be lying. I know you inside out and she’s the most precious thing I have,” Hyunjung tapped on the surface they leaned on. “But I can see you’re trying and, Jiyeon, it’s time for you to let go of what you regret. You’re not the same anymore,” a comforting grin was directed at her. “Just take care of her and yourself, don’t do anything stupid.”  

The grin turned into a dismissive twist of lips and Jiyeon laughed, although she could tell Hyunjung meant it. Years had passed and they hadn’t got rid of their biggest enemy: awkwardness. 

“Take care of those dummies too, that’s all I ask. They pretend to be invincible but we know the truth,” her tone was lighthearted, joking even, but sincere nonetheless. “I’ll do everything I can for her.”

“We’re done! We’re finally done!”

Soobin started to announce to the whole neighborhood and Sojung didn’t take long to appear with a hand on her back as if she had been through a marathon. Juyeon limited herself to making fun of them and Jiyeon knew, by the peacefulness Hyunjung expressed and the light mood surrounding them, that things were falling into place.

For them, of course, but for her especially. Like she had been yearning, like she had been dreaming since her world broke apart for the last time.

➤You’ll have to be brave — for yourself, for her, for everyone. And as tiring as it can be, it isn’t useless. Hold on to her, Jiyeon. Let her hold on to you. Allow this silly heart of yours to meet truthfulness and peace without the fear of being deceived because if there’s one thing I’m sure of, is that Juyeon would go to the edge of the universe if you told her to. She loves you, don’t waste that.

The first time Jiyeon took Eunseo to her painting room, she remembered it also being the first time Juyeon was in complete silence since they met.

The room was far from anything luxurious, just a simple place with free walls, a small couch along with a chair, and all the tools she could need, and yet, since that day, in every single visit her girlfriend made she ended up like this at some point: quiet, with busy eyes directed to the frames spread around them and a mind so far from there that Jiyeon had trouble reaching her.

Jiyeon had tried pure realism in the past, more than she would agree on admitting, but really her thing was the mix between abstract and a pinch of the first; she liked to play with shapes, with colors and what they could do on an unorganized surface, and despite being a perfectionist by nature, which prompted her to always search for more grounded images even in the middle of chaotic lines, she liked the process of trying to understand what her hands created and her mind tried to communicate in its own way. 

They say the eyes are the windows of the soul, and Jiyeon agreed, but she agreed even more that art was a connection to something bigger, perhaps the representation of what they, as simple humans, would never be ready enough to deal with. 

She guessed Juyeon could sense that, the effort in feeling the answers instead of achieving them, hence why she would take second and third looks in every opportunity she had of admiring one of the paintings there. What made Jiyeon wonder, though, was if there was something else about that silent contemplation that she wasn’t able of grasping on; Juyeon was an artist too, and just like the older woman could be an ocean of mysteries when it came to her work, the photographer could create mazes and incomprehensible enigmas with what she did.

“Will I ever have the chance to see myself on one of those?” 

The younger woman asked one afternoon as she helped arrange the paintings on the wall. The painter stopped her movements with slowness, huffing the strand of hair that insisted on leaving her bun and going to her face.

She smiled, shyly.

“I can’t assure you I’ll do a good job with your face and I would rather not try, you’re too pretty to not be painted properly,” she confessed and the other was ready to protest but she was faster. “I already… Painted you, actually. More than once.”

Juyeon looked over at her, brows furrowed in surprise and expectation just like Jiyeon hoped she would. The older one breathed in, creating the courage to go grab the two canvases she guarded like a guilty secret.

“You can guess when I did them but, huh, yeah.”

The first was simple, a sketch in dark purple of the imagery of Juyeon leaving on the day they met — she still shivered at the memory. Faceless, but recognizable for anyone who knew the photographer, and laced with the same anxiety she felt.

The second, on the other hand…

“The day I visited you in your company?!” Juyeon widened her eyes, perplexed. “Why?”

Jiyeon swallowed hard, changing her weight from one leg to another. The answer was easy, in reality: that was the first time the younger woman visited her in the company, with her favorite coffee and cake in hand, and as much as Jiyeon felt a rush of tenderness towards her, while her friend left with a satisfied expression and the posture of someone who just won an important test, she was punched by the agonizing fear of losing that, of losing her, the same way she lost everyone else at some point — not just in a romantic manner. 

As she watched Juyeon leave from the window of her office, it resembled the vision she got from the rooftop. Compelling, and just as fearsome.

“That was an important day,” she stepped closer to rest her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Until that, I thought you saw me as someone you had to handle because of the others. You proved me wrong.” 

Juyeon turned to her a bit and the older one reached out to caress her cheek.

“I’ll paint you from up close if you want,” Jiyeon sighed. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

If Juyeon had become a victim of her creative hours, Jiyeon herself wasn’t far from a similar position. Before they started dating, she was already accustomed to having cameras and phones directed at her on the most unexpected moments, but since their knots got tighter, odd would be if Juyeon didn’t take pictures of her like a euphoric kid who just got to discover the wonders of the world hidden behind layers of obliviousness.

The painter had vivid memories of when the younger one, after weeks pondering over the matter, decided to show the private collection no one knew about. Jiyeon had been aware of her girlfriend’s talent — she wasn’t praised by big names and extremely busy for nothing — but that was when it truly hit her.

That was when she understood the depth with which Juyeon looked at everything, even the leaves that dragged on the ground during autumn, and it was funny, actually, how they took turns — at times an observer, at times the performer. Juyeon never missed the chance of being in her painting room and Jiyeon saw, touched, her girlfriend’s pictures as if she had just found ancient treasure.

“I’ve been keeping this since I left my modeling career. I wanted to start anew, so I did,” she explained as they sat face to face on her bed, and Jiyeon wouldn’t dare blinking. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “There’s more but these are the ones I like the most.”

There were familiar faces, familiar places, as well as people without heads, places without names, and roads that found a way outside the big city. There were plenty of pictures of the sky as well; Juyeon loved the moon, her reverence being as noticeable as her taste for capturing the uniqueness of humans, and just like she sang to it sometimes, she liked to imprint images of it in all possible manners she could find. 

Late at night, it wasn’t unusual for the photographer to be seen looking up as if nothing else mattered. And Jiyeon got it. She was a lover of the moon, too. However, it wasn’t their natural protector who held the crown of most fascinating existence to her. 

It couldn’t be. Not when Son Juyeon was right there by her side.

“Oops,” the startled mumble echoed after the sudden clarity caught them both out of guard. “Forgot to turn off the flash.”

Jiyeon giggled at the clumsy rushness in putting the camera away, charmed to no end at how disconcerted Juyeon got whenever she was caught in the middle of her antics. She set aside the empty wine glass and called the younger one with a motion of her finger, arranging herself on the kitchen’s counter to fit the taller body between her legs.

“You never learn,” she pointed out, resting her arms around the relaxed shoulders. She wasn’t drunk, just a bit tipsy and once again Soobin showed her abilities in choosing a good wine.  

Juyeon shook her head. “I can’t miss the opportunity, that’s why,” the taller one leaned closer to her face, both of them smiling when their noses connected. “It’s a once in a lifetime, it won’t come again.”

“You’re a once in a lifetime, Juyeon,” a hand s to dive into the dark locks while Juyeon ducked down her head with a surprised scoff. “What’s so fun about taking pictures of me? I asked before and you didn’t tell me.”

“What’s the fun of painting me?” She gave back, fixing her posture to look the older one in the eyes and calmly put a few strands of her hair in place. “I like looking at you from all angles, even the ones I didn’t know I could. The camera helps with that and allows me to keep a piece of it with me forever.” The back of her fingers trailed Jiyeon’s face, then her cheek, her jaw. “You told me that sometimes you have this unrelenting need to put into a canvas what you feel, with me it’s the same, the difference is just that I’m not putting,” her free hand went to Jiyeon’s hip. “I’m taking.”

The shorter woman let out a shaky breath, bringing Juyeon to her. 

Art for them was a connection, a shared passion that made them equals re