jihyo winces, crinkling her nose in disgust when she catches the taller figure blowing out a puff of smoke. she presses her foot down on the gas pedal, not really caring if she was speeding. it’s the middle of the night, who even comes out at this time? the wind blows past so fast, it dries her eyes and she’s forced to slow down. the sudden change in speed doesn’t seem to affect the girl sitting beside her, as she brings the cigarette back to her red lips again. jihyo considers stopping the car altogether, to ask her why she’d called at 3 in the morning, to ask her why she’d seemed unusually sombre tonight. they hadn’t been out on midnight drives in a pretty long time. but when she lets out a small sigh, jihyo decides against it. 

so she drives. one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the car door of the window that had been rolled down. the silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not what jihyo is used to. 

the dim street lights barely offer any comfort in the cold night, but jihyo thinks the woman next to her offers her more warmth and comfort than anything else could. 

“you know, i kind of always liked constellations,” 

her slightly husky voice raises shivers through jihyo’s body. damn her and her stupid cigarettes. 

“are there any in the sky now?” 

“i don’t know, i never bothered to look for them. i just thought they were pretty cool,” 

jihyo spares a glance at her. even under the unflattering light flickering past from the street lamps, jihyo still thinks she’s possibly the most beautiful being to walk the earth. a small smile graces jihyo’s lips as she watches her now grown-out hair whipping past her face messily. she remembers that night, when she had been even more insecure than usual about her long hair. all because someone had told her she didn’t fit the feminine look. 

that night, jihyo had held her in her arms, told her how pretty she always looked, told her that she liked her long hair. 

“want one?” jihyo is taken back to reality. she looks down at the can of beer, before replying. 

“i’m not about to drink and drive,” jihyo shakes her head. 

“i’ll drive us back. i promise i won’t crash the car,” she answers, and jihyo knows all sense of reason in her has been thrown out the window. she pulls to the side of the road, accepting the can. 

yoo jeongyeon was a bad influence. 

“smoking isn’t any better than drinking,” jihyo points out, just as the older blows out another puff of smoke. 

“yeah, but it probably kills me faster,” 

“sometimes i don’t know if you mean all these things you say,” 

“doesn’t matter. it’s a fact,” she turns her head away from the window to catch jihyo’s gaze. 

jihyo kind of likes the way her eyes twinkle in the darkness. and maybe also the way is pulled into a soft smile. or maybe it was the way her messed up hair brought a little spark into jihyo’s heart. 

she tears her eyes away from jeongyeon’s, bringing the can of beer to her lips. feeling the alcohol burn a familiar warmth down . purposefully ignoring the older’s stare, because she hates that jeongyeon almost always knows what she’s thinking. 

“you should try it someday,” 

“try what?” jeongyeon gestures to her cigarette, to which jihyo shakes her head. “i’ll never understand why you would willingly burn your lungs out,” 

“you don’t really feel the burn after a while,” she breathes a small sigh. “the numbness is kinda soothing, actually,” 

“let me guess, you like the way it dulls your heartbeat? makes everything fade away for a while?” 

“jackpot. how’d you know?” 

“i’ve known you half my life,” jihyo shrugs. she wasn’t about to tell jeongyeon that she had once heard her mumble those exact words when she was asleep next to her. jihyo couldn’t sleep for the next few nights after she had heard jeongyeon say those words. instead, she spent them staring into the darkness, tears threatening to spill. she hated that jeongyeon didn’t see her own worth. she hated that she couldn’t do anything about it, except cradle her in her arms like she was made of glass. jeongyeon must’ve gotten tired of hearing the same words over and over, but jihyo would never get tired of telling her how amazing she was, how she had so much more to her than just midnight drives and cigarettes. that had been almost nine months ago, jihyo recalls. 

maybe she’s a bad friend for letting her best friend slowly destroy herself, while she watches as it happens. but she’s long come to the realisation that jeongyeon couldn’t be saved. she didn’t want to be saved, and the only thing jihyo knows is to be with her, no matter what. even if every puff of smoke claws at her conscience, even if every tear fallen from the older’s eyes while asleep ripped her heart open once again, jihyo refused to leave her. this was what it was like to love jeongyeon, but jihyo has gotten used to it. she shouldn’t have to be, but she is. 

“you know i hate it when you smoke,” 

“that’s exactly why i do it,”

jihyo lets out a short laugh at that. 

“you smoke to annoy me?” 

“only when you’re around. other times i just do it because it’s already become a habit,” jihyo shakes her head, taking another drink from the last of her beer. jeongyeon gets out of the car to put out her cigarette, but ends up leaning on the hood of the car instead of getting back in. 

maybe it was the slight buzz of the alcohol, or maybe it was because she was stupidly in love with her, but jihyo finds herself getting out of the car as well, making her way to sit beside the older. the silence envelopes them ; jeongyeon with her head tilted up to the sky and closed eyes, and jihyo who was gazing at her, a foolish smile stuck on her face. 

“smoke,” jihyo says softly. 

“hmm?” the older turns her head towards jihyo. 

“you smell like smoke,” she mutters. 

“well, yeah. what else would you expect?” 

jihyo falls silent at that. she really, really, hated that jeongyeon smoked. but she also kind of liked the way jeongyeon’s voice became husky whenever she did, and the way she always smelled like smoke, with a hint of sugar. jihyo thought it suited jeongyeon a lot. rough on the outside, but just enough sweetness to balance it out. 

“sugar,” 

“are you sure you didn’t drink too much?” jeongyeon looks at her, confusion and worry written on her face. 

“you kind of always smelled bittersweet. like smoke rings. and sugar.” 

“i do?” 

“i wonder if you taste like that, too.” 

“wha-,” jeongyeon is cut off, jihyo suddenly way too close to her, hands already cupping her face gently, lips barely an inch away from hers. jihyo’s eyes flicker down to her red lips for a split second, hesitating. jeongyeon tilts her head, leaning into the younger’s touch, meeting jihyo’s lips with her own. 

and all jihyo knows in this moment is to melt in the feeling of jeongyeon’s slightly cracked but tender lips, melt in the touch of her hand on the back of jihyo’s neck. 

jihyo doesn’t like how jeongyeon tastes of bitter tobacco, of the thing that kills jeongyeon a little more every day. but jeongyeon also tastes of sweet memories, of countless nights next to each other, of hundreds of midnight drives, and of thousands of days of sorrow. jeongyeon tastes like sweet, sweet honey laced with a touch of poison. she tastes of unspoken promises and of danger. and jihyo has been there through all of those things, and she will always be there. even if jeongyeon didn’t want her to be. 

jihyo doesn’t like how jeongyeon’s kisses remind her of all the bittersweet memories. 

jeongyeon reminds her of years of longing. 

jeongyeon reminds her of high-pitched, breathy laughter and bright smiles. 

jeongyeon reminds her of love, in the most painful ways possible. 

jeongyeon reminds her of warm hugs and shared coffees. 

jeongyeon reminds jihyo of everything jihyo hates, as well as everything jihyo loves. 

jeongyeon’s hand brushes jihyo’s cheek gently, wiping the single tear fallen. 

“so, do i taste like sugar and smoke rings, too?” jihyo breaks into a grin, sniffling despite herself. 

“and so much more,” she pulls jeongyeon down again. tastes the bitterness lingering on jeongyeon’s lips. loses herself in the way jeongyeon kisses her back almost immediately, as if it were second nature. 

jihyo pulls away reluctantly, lips parted, panting slightly. jihyo thinks she could stay here in this moment forever, because the way jeongyeon is looking at her now makes her breath quicken and her knees weak. jeongyeon is looking at her like she had given her the entire night sky’s worth of stars. jihyo isn’t complaining. no, she definitely isn’t. 

“i kinda always liked you, you know?” jeongyeon says. not a question nor a statement, just a confession. a long overdue one, if she had to admit. 

“i kinda always liked you too, idiot,” 

jihyo can’t stop the wide grin that reaches her face as she laces her fingers through jeongyeon’s slender digits. 

maybe loving jeongyeon painfully wasn’t something jihyo had to get used to, after all.