it fizzles. the drink. bubbling up, heavily carbonated. it sits on her red cup prettily,  blue and sparkly. borderline suspicious. a concoction that should probably not be drank in large quantities ( it should not be consumed at all! ) because nothing remotely safe should smell that good. like an odd combination of extremely fruity bubble gum and xylitol.

the scent reminds her of jimin's hair.

there's a buzz in aeri's ear, but it might just be the tacky music, and the murmurs of a party, evidently on the verge of dying. or the alcohol she just downed in two full swigs. the vile liquid running through down the skin of her neck.

“you good?”

a hand rests on her thigh. the pale light shines on jimin's face, and aeri's eyes dart dangerously to the mole just below the corner of the older girl's lips. it's instant, the warmth that squeezes her stomach after jimin notices the attention. fanning the embarrassment even further with a smug expression — head cocked to the side. a raised eyebrow.

and aeri gets it, okay , jimin is effortlessly attractive. and y. arriving in that ensemble. too much skin, like the main purpose of it all was to draw as much unwarranted attention as she can. and she did, because the whole room couldn't stop — at the expense of aeri's sanity — talking about jimin, jimin, jimin the moment she walked in.

it's crazy. how guys lined up, craning their necks just to get a glimpse, as if jimin is some sort of rare art exhibition. or how the bolder ones (mostly women) tried to sway her with whatever — by the time jimin outwardly returned their flirtation, aeri had the exchange tuned out, and was already nursing her second cup.

drinking her jealousy away, because , she dressed up too. prettily so, traded her usual black band shirts for a white button-up — she wants attention. not from everyone, but jimin is too overwhelmed being in the spotlight to even notice what she actually wants. 

not that jimin is obligated to. no, god no. she's not. aeri wants jimin to enjoy her time. but there are some ridiculous implications to aeri and alcohol and jimin under the pretty lights of choi jisu's home dancing to a random cigarettes after song — it leaves her yearning . suppressed feelings buried six feet under the dark recesses of her hypothalamus trying to resurface. 

it was never a good news. because now, aeri wants jimin's attention. wants to kiss her, kiss her until she can no longer recognize whose lipstick is on . or what perfume it is on her tongue. it's her thoughts in its peak inebriated state — but it does not make any of the sentiments less true.

“your breath smells like alcohol.”

jimin laughs, pressing her lips together. a dimple, pretty, pretty.

“that's because i have been drinking.” jimin shakes her head, the explanation comes off as condescending, and aeri thinks that had she been a bit sober, and rational, and not distracted by the crinkles on jimin's eyes nor the smell of her obnoxious perfume that definitely had a number on its name (a gift from her), she knows she would be thoroughly offended, “and you are, too.”

“you dance pretty well,” aeri hums, disregarding jimin's statement. none of it registered strong enough to guarantee a proper answer anyway.

“thank you,” jimin chuckles, her hand rubbing the material of aeri's ripped jeans. fingers soothing the loose threads, and dipping once in a while to draw circles on her skin.

some days aeri daydreams about screaming until her lungs turns black and breaks apart. 

(it's one of those days.)

“that was,” aeri breathes. talking slowly, labored, as if it's taking her everything she has to get the words out, “— great. ryujin was having a field day.”

“really,” jimin snorts, “i feel like i have to sleep with one eye open tonight,” she laughs heartily, “because yeji definitely wasn't having it.”

(yeji wasn't the only one.)

the conversation falls through, and none of them tries to make an effort to revive it. jimin draws her hand away from aeri's thigh, throwing her a dimpled smile before sauntering away to a sure thing.

something inside aeri cracks.

jimin will go home with someone tonight. it wouldn't feel that much at the moment, but tomorrow, when jimin texts her for breakfast, and aeri arrives noticing the dopey smile jimin has on, and the poorly covered bruise on her neck — all of it would feel like a slap. a hard one. the type that never leaves a mark but stings and burns.

jimin waves, wipes both of her hands on her flour-stained apron after dropping two garbage bags on the dumpster. 

she looks so real and human and aeri thinks just how much of her heart tumbles dangerously out of her chest when jimin squints her eyes through the morning sunlight and smiles. a little too bright, a little too warm. it leaves her knees buckling and dry. 

“you could've waited inside,” jimin mumbles. 

aeri pushes her sunglasses up on her head, pulls the sleeves of her shirt back to look at her watch. it's still early, she could idle some more before her first class.  aeri smiles, “you have flour in your hair.”

jimin frowns, dusting off her head with the back of her hand.

“jimin!” the voice echoes through the kitchen, “did you take out the trash or did the trash take you out or what? ”

“yoo jeongyeon,” jimin huffs, whispering curses under her breath, then, she turns to aeri with a scrunched up brow, “have you eaten?”

“i uh—”

“jimin breakfast— oh aeri ,” jeongyeon beams, pulling aeri by her arm, “come join us. come, come, we're having meat. dad made kimchi stew,” she grins.

aeri looks back to where jimin is, the older girl looks annoyed, but there's a glimmer of affection on her face. soft and endearing as she watches aeri get pushed down the floor in front of numerous home-cooked meals. 

“you look like you haven't eaten in days!” was mama yoo's words, slightly tapping aeri's cheeks. she could see jimin nodding at her side, dumping two fried eggs on her plate, complaining quietly when jeongyeon shoved a wrap in front of her face. a snicker that she's certain was yizhuo's ring in her ears.

meals at jimin's home were always a pleasure. and usually, it goes like this:

jeongyeon cracks a dad-joke — chaos ensues, with a wrestling match, punches thrown, and tangled limbs on the floor. there's a weak  attempt to stop the ruckus, but it was all futile because food was getting thrown in the air and it's a mess of laughter and profanities and there's a red stain on aeri's dress shirt  — but , but it feels like home.

or at least how aeri thinks home should feel like.

(she never really had one.)

aeri gets a packed food that day. a bento-box, prepared by jimin's mom. sliced apple from yizhuo, freshly baked bread from jeongyeon, and a note that says fighting~ from jimin.

(she cries during lunch.)

jimin never liked her unit. she says it's too big, empty. it doesn't look like it's lived in. aeri couldn't really blame her. she rarely gets visitors, only when somi is in town. she has cooper, and the company of cheesy film remakes on netflix every night. but dogs weren't really good at conversations, and no matter how many films she anticipates, nothing compares to an actual person she could freely talk to.

“how's the bakery today?”

jimin presses her lips together, runs her fingers through the skin of aeri's arm, “fine. someone ordered a  bulk again.”

aeri hums. wishes the boxes of cupcakes stays hidden at the back of her fridge, “that's… that's nice, isn't it?”

“i mean, yeah.” jimin looks at her, and she avoids her gaze, “just wondering where all of it goes.”

“maybe it's donated,” aeri offers weakly, “you know, people do that. kids love sweets.” she would know. she had the cupcakes personally delivered to the orphanage jisu hooked her up with. the kids were beautiful, and she fell in love with them instantly — promising to come back every week bearing gifts.

jimin stares at her for a second too long, then she sighs. resigning into acknowledgement. she's not suppo