“It’s romance.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Jimin grins at her, sheepish, a bit flushed. Her eyes twinkling, hazy and dazed – the alcohol taking effect, but not too strong to completely knock her senses off, just enough to dust her cheeks with pink – it’s stunning, really , and so, so unfair.

 

Minjeong observes the older girl with unblinking eyes, delighted to see her do the bare minimum and still render her absolutely paralyzed in her seat. Warmth spreads through her stomach every time she hears her laugh, hum, breathe, it’s maddening. Minjeong momentarily wonders how she got here, how her life became an intricate poem that only consists of Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.

 

“She’s beautiful,” Jimin nudges her shoulder, “don’t you think?”

 

Minjeong’s steals a glance towards her, her heart nodding in agreement, “She is… beautiful.”

 

Whenever the light of the television glazes over Jimin’s face, allowing Minjeong to see the small dimple on her cheek, the beauty mark right below the corner of , eyes crescents with a smile that is more sunshine than anything she has ever seen – a part of her dies a little.

 

Because she’s beautiful – no, scratch that – beautiful is too generic and plain, Jimin is anything but. Minjeong’s mind shifts about people naming stars, and elements, and new species and she thinks, maybe she could invent a word for Jimin.

 

“No,” Minjeong argues, “you don’t get it, do you?”

 

Jimin looks at her quizzically, amused at her passion, “I really don’t, to be honest. I think it’s cute.”

 

Minjeong shakes her head, “She broke his heart,” she pauses the movie, “four times – ” Minjeong grimaces when Jimin raises an eyebrow, she sighs, “It’s  not cute, Jimin. It’s… it’s plain stupid.”

 

“I think that’s how love is supposed to be,” Jimin shrugs, “see, this is the problem. There’s a thin line between bravery and stupidity and you keep on mistaking one for the other.” Jimin tilts her head, pouts a little, and it does nothing good for Minjeong’s heart, “It’s not stupid. It’s brave actually. To know that there’s an endless possibility of you getting hurt multiple times , and still going for it regardless.”

 

Minjeong mumbles something under her breath, and Jimin laughs at her.

 

“I don’t like this film at all,” she huffs.

 

Jimin pushes her feet towards her lap, “Blame Aeri, she requested it.”

 

Minjeong turns to her right and sees Aeri curled up on the single couch, snoring softly.

 

“She’s sleeping, so I’m blaming you.”

 

Jimin grins but doesn’t say anything more. They watched the movie in silence and when the credits rolled over, Jimin stretched her hand up – her shirt riding up a little, exposing a sliver of skin that had Minjeong shaking her head, the back of her neck cherry red.

 

“You’re not staying?”

 

Jimin glances at her, “No.”

 

Minjeong wants to pull her hand, take her to bed, kiss her hard until both of them run out of breath. She wants to wake up with her snuggling under the sheets with her heart pounding loud inside her chest, she wants it all.

 

Minjeong could ask her to stay, she could , but that would be stupid.

 

So instead, she replies with, “Okay.”

 

There was a flash of something in Jimin’s eyes, and it’s undecipherable and unfamiliar, but then she smiles, grabs the back of Minjeong’s neck for a searing kiss. Minjeong places her hand on Jimin’s cheek, one on her waist, afraid that Jimin would fade into oblivion if she doesn’t hold her for anchor. It was slow and languid, unhurried unlike all the other kisses they’ve shared – this one feels like seeking for a shelter after a storm. It feels heartbreakingly desperate yet quiet.

 

Minjeong feels herself chasing Jimin’s lips after she draws away.

 

“I’m sorry,” she mutters when Jimin takes too long to say something.

 

The older girl looks at her with confusion.

 

“About him.”

 

Minjeong is not a fool. Jimin wouldn’t be coming over with a case of alcohol and snacks for no reason. She had seen her distracted and out of it in far too many instances – constantly looking at her phone and having silently aggressive phone conversations – to put two and two together. She had never seen her cry though, and somehow, it made Minjeong feel like she’s not worthy enough to see Jimin at her lowest state.

 

“Oh,” Jimin chuckles, avoiding eye contact, “it’s not going to last anyway. We’re just… too different, you know.”

 

“Still.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jimin smiles, her lips are bruised and her hair has gone a bit disheveled. It’s a sight. It dwells inside her as she waits for the blow, and it comes sooner than expected. At least Jimin had the decency to look guilty, “and I’m sorry too, for – that .”

 

Minjeong’s heart clenches, I’m not.

 

And just like that, Jimin slips out of the door and out of Minjeong’s life as easily as she barges in.

 

She is frighteningly used to it, but it doesn’t mean it hurts less.

 

 

 

She will not see Jimin for days.

 

“Whatever you two are doing,” Aeri sits on the counter, “it needs to stop.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

Aeri turns to her like she just told her that she killed her dogs, and then she smacks the back of Minjeong’s head, “You’re both idiots.”

 

Minjeong groans, “I think you just gave me a concussion.”

 

“You deserve that.” She stops for a minute, “Jimin too. Wait till I get my hands on her.”

 

They are friends. And there is a line, but it got too messy because feelings – and the line grew blurry and so Minjeong tried to draw another one and Jimin did too and now it’s all confusing because Minjeong no longer knows where to stand. But Jimin does – standing far but close enough to reach Minjeong, keeping her at arm’s length, making her her safety net so she could seek comfort whenever her situation calls for it.

 

Minjeong tried calling Jimin out, asking what they are — what she wants them to be, and Jimin so casually answered, “ friends ,” and then disappeared for a week, only to comeback with a text about a guy she met, and how she’s so excited to go on a date with him.

 

 

 

Aeri must have had enough of her moping, so she introduces Minjeong to a friend.

 

Yeji is nice and pretty, level-headed and extremely smart, while Minjeong revels in the logic of Mathematics, debating with numbers and statistics – Yeji uses Philosophy, nit-picks the meaning of life in utter genius it leaves Minjeong speechless – and her arguments make so much more sense than hers.

 

It’s nice talking to her.

 

It’s no fireworks and near death experiences, a far cry from the circus she feels whenever she’s with Jimin. Yeji feels safe, and it’s okay.

 

“Why don’t you two have a double date?” Aeri pushes the idea at the table.

 

Jimin was ecstatic about it.

 

Minjeong thinks it’s torture.

 

It is torture.

 

Jimin introduces this guy from Architecture and Minjeong doesn’t remember his name, but she remembers the smile Jimin throws his way, the small touches and bumping of shoulders. It’s all etched in Minjeong’s head – Jimin looking at him through hooded lashes, the faint blush on her cheeks, words soft like a feather – and it burns.

 

The guy offered to walk Jimin home. Minjeong wants to do that, but then she remembers and instantly feels guilty, because Yeji is standing at her side, sweet, beautiful Yeji. It amazes Minjeong the extent of how she could be an whenever Jimin is around.

 

“You’re in love with Jimin, aren’t you?” Yeji chuckles when they stop for ice cream – to ease the guilt, but Minjeong knows it doesn’t.

 

It didn’t come as a surprise.

 

Minjeong laughs, the ice cream tastes disgustingly sweet it made her want to throw up.

 

“Tragic,” Yeji murmurs under her breath, Minjeong agrees and buys her another scoop after that.

 

The walls were torn down, and Minjeong’s relationship with Yeji no longer revolves around the possibility of romance rather taking a huge turn towards a solidified friendship. The intimacy of sharing a secret has established a sense of understanding between them. It’s nice. Yeji takes her role as an unbiased advisor – because Aeri has a tendency to lean in certain directions depending on the situation.

 

“Why are we watching romance, I thought you like ‘ movies that are hard to understand’ ?” Yeji looks up from her laptop to glance at Minjeong’s television, “Notting Hill?”

 

This movie is hard to understand , she wants to clarify but Minjeong bit her words back.

 

“Yeah,” Minjeong nods, “have you watched it?”