The Dialects of Quality Time: Part 3

When Shuhua was little, she imagined bright lights and cameras. There were sets and cast mates and, possibly, heart wrenching kisses. In the rain, at the airport, at the end of a long chase scene; all terribly cliché kisses. 

It was the drama, the way it tugged at her heart, that Shuhua loved. But Soojin made Shuhua love the simple sort of love; the love that wasn’t all brazen declarations and breathtaking kisses. It made her crave the mundane sort of love. The love that included late night walks and seeing Soojin light up at the sight of a tidy kitchen. The kind of love that wore sweatpants and wasn’t always pretty. 

The sort of love that was clumsy and unpolished, but willing to grow.

“Shu…” The voice was tentative.

“Just a few more steps,” Shuhua assured. Her hands covered Soojin’s eyes as she guided her down the hall. It was awkward, the dogs playing at their feet and Shuhua occasionally tripping over her own feet. 

“Are you—”

“Open your eyes.”

Shuhua loved the way Soojin gasped and the way her body leaned back into Shuhua’s, now, sturdy frame. 

“How…” Soojin spoke like she was running low on air, all soft and fleeting. “Did you…?”

It wasn’t anything fancy, a fort made of the spare linens from both dorms.

“Everyone helped.” 

Originally, Shuhua had wanted to transform the living room. But the work was too much, Yuqi had griped in the text thread, as if she wasn’t on distraction duty in the first place. It was Miyeon who managed to convince Shuhua that the bedroom would be both comfortable and comforting. 

“Yuqi was