Yeji isn’t quite sure where things changed between her and Yuna. She can’t sit down and trail her fingers along the threads of their friendship, pinpointing when innocuous touches became something more. 

 

And sure, every time it left her breathless. Charged, like the electricity crackling in the air between them, and Yeji was left none the wiser in terms of what to do.

 

She fears change more than anything. Change meant that, inevitably, somebody would be hurt. So when her heart thunders in her ears as change throttles her she all but wonders where she went wrong.

 

She and Yuna had grown closer. Considerably closer. And it wasn’t uncommon to see Yuna following her around like an overexcited puppy and Yeji wearing an all too fond expression when she looks back in return. Her sharp eyes equal parts warm and adoring. They were virtually inseparable.

 

Lia teases her for it. The girl had clever eyes and an ever perceptive mind. It only made sense she’d see it first and Yeji would be damned to ever mention the flush that spreads from her cheeks to her ears when Yuna so much as looks her way.

 

But for all Yeji’s worth, it’s her unfailingly analytical mind that really grapples for purchase in the tormenting chaos of her whirring emotions. She rifles through the consequences of her adoration for Yuna, and she can’t find a reason to justify any sort of relationship. Let alone romance.

 

No, not for Hwang Yeji. The brilliant dancer who’s reaped more hearts than she could ever fathom. They were idols first and foremost. Celebrities before they were themselves. Any inkling of love that dredged between them would jeopardize everything. Palpably, the thought lodges itself in Yeji’s heart like a knife and she feels it twist.

 

And for all of her mind’s anxious thrumming, she still can’t help it when her hand painstakingly weaves its way to the small of Yuna’s back when they walk together through the company building. Or when she guides Yuna around, their hands casually interlocked. And if Yuna blushes, who is she to refute it? No one has a weaker resolve than she does when it comes to the object of her affections.

 

Worst of all, Yeji doesn’t fail to observe a single thing.

 

She knows when Yuna’s eyes linger for longer than they should. She knows that the youngest might very well believe that Yeji hung the stars in the sky. When their eyes meet on stage and her chest heaves from the exertion, she never feels more alive until Yuna drapes herself across her shoulders. Fate was cruel. She can only feign ignorance. For both of their sakes.

 

Yuna is gorgeous. Has always been gorgeous. Her nails are always freshly manicured and she cares for her make up more than she lets on. But that barely made up a fraction of it. She wears her heart on her sleeve and loves fiercely. In that, she is brave. Much braver than Yeji could ever even aspire to be.

 

At first, it’s odd for Yeji. Even uncomfortable. To see someone as unflinchingly and unyieldingly surefooted as Yuna stare at her with such open vulnerability. Yeji has met plenty of people, and none possess the ability to express such raw emotion as Yuna does. It’s both a gift and a vice.

 

Whether Yeji likes it or not, things begin to change again. Gradually. Like waves wearing away at a mass of land until all of a sudden a river rages by without anyone noticing until they’re quite literally drowning.

 

Yuna’s still bold and bright. She’s still a beacon that Yeji finds herself hopelessly drawn to, but Yuna is the one who finally pulls away. Who curls at her touches like paper to a flame. Between the two of them, she is the one who decides to leave their song and dance.

 

Yeji doesn’t blame her. Not even when she’s forced into watching Yuna slip between her fingertips like molten white sand, scorching the skin left behind. Her heart begins to throb and clench without the dizzyingly elated tugs from before. Now, she’s devastated.

 

She tries and fails to fix the blame on anyone besides herself.

 

—

 

Yeji knows very well how pathetic she likely looks. She’s holed up inside of her bedroom and tucked into her bed like a sickly child. She is sick. Rather, heartsick. An uncharacteristically lost expression marrs her pretty features.

 

She pines. Oh, she pines. She misses Yuna, despite seeing her everyday. Earnestly, she thinks it might even make her condition worse. Doe-eyed Yuna who continues to be blindingly happy.

 

Really, she should commend herself at least a little. The distance that only threatens to increase between her and the youngest member waxes and she’s clutching onto appearances of normalcy easier than she’d anticipate. So long as no one can see the chasm in her own heart that is.

 

Yeji jolts out of her bed when a heavy hand knocks on her door. She knows who it is. Once you’ve lived together for long enough, you know everyone’s quirks. For Lia, it was five quick knocks when she demanded Yeji’s attention. Her nerves fray and she absentmindedly considers not opening the door.

 

She does.

 

Lo and behold, Lia. Just as she suspected. She’s wearing her pajamas and cradles a mug filled with water. Yeji accepts it with a grateful nod, but the look on her face is more prodding. She takes a deep breath as her eyes flutter shut. She didn’t want to face the wrath strung across the vocalist’s face.

 

“You absolute idiot,” Lia begins. Seethes, even. She tears into the room, hooking a hand onto Yeji’s wrist as she does. The door shuts with an affirming thud. Somewhere, in the far recesses of the leader’s mind, she registers fear. Lia had never looked so vengeful. Her brows were knitted and a deep, grim line sets on her lips. “What game do you think you’re playing with Yuna?”

 

Yeji stil