“You have beautiful eyes.” 

Shuhua looks up from her cereal. “I—” the milk pours off her spoon and the cheerios create splash marks on the table, “—Wha?” Mouth open like a fish, she gapes.

Cheeks cherry red, Soojin repeats. “You have beautiful eyes.” This time she doesn’t wait for the reply. Her heels squeak on the tiled floor as she turns; the retreating stomps are hardly silent.

Slamming her bedroom door shut behind her, Soojin storms over to her desk and pulls out an old coiled notebook. The words she scratches into the paper’s surface are furious and embarrassing.

Day 1: She has beautiful eyes.

Soojin shoves the sheets of paper back into the drawer of her desk. The sound is deafening, but it is nothing compared to the thundering in her chest or the pounding in her ears. 

“You have pretty hair.” She spews out the next day like the words are lava and she can’t bear the heat a moment longer.

Shuhua isn’t any more prepared this time than she was the last. From her position upside down on the couch, Switch in hand, she blinks. “My hair?” Her eyes are coloured with confusion akin to her early days in Seoul when she spoke not a of Korean.

Hands clenched into fists at her side, Soojin nods. Her eyes burn holes in the section of wall just over Shuhua’s head. “Y—yeah,” she manages to stammer out before stalking out.

This time, on the paper, her words are less angry and embarrassed scribbles. Now they’re just embarrassed and— why are her pens always dying?!

Day 2: She has pretty hair.

The ‘p’ is faint like a ghost and the ‘-air’ are more aggressive impressions on the page. 

By day three, her hands aren’t any less clammy and, like she swallowed sand, Soojin sputters out, “You are really good at loving me.” It sounds ridiculous the moment it leaves her lips.

She doesn’t wait for Shuhua’s response and storms back to her room.

“Where’s the fire?” Miyeon asks semi-seriously as Soojin stomps by like a woman determined to evacuate the premise.