Before, and then after

featuring trans woman taekwoon

Of all the things to expect, Wonshik never counted on meeting Taekwoon again. Only this time, Taekwoon wasn't Taekwoon, and instead was Taewoo, a girl with glossy small lips and narrow, guarded eyes and some of the broadest shoulders on a girl he had ever seen. . . . Not that he would comment on that last part.

He sat at the dining room table, increasing the pressure on his jaw to try and stave off the pain. If anything hadn't changed over the last five years or whatever, it was Taekwo—Taewoo's left hook.

It was really his fault, but he was still a little too stuck on the pain to admit it. Okay, so he shouldn't have asked Taewoo why she was dressed the way she was—floral patterns and pastels, platform pumps and long blonde hair—but he hid behind the excuse that he was shocked. Five years was a long time, yeah, but for so much to change . . . Talk about unexpected. Then again, he never thought he'd see Taek—Taewoo (You idiot, you made her cry, at least get her damn name right.) again.

"I'm sorry I hit you so hard." Taewoo's voice was soft, much higher pitched than he was used to, but it wasn't too much of a stretch from how it used to be.

He laughed. "I'm sorry I—Well, you know . . ." Taewoo pressed the icepack against his cheek and he sighed, relieved. "Do you think it'll bruise?" Of course it was gonna bruise, but he had to say something else.

Amusement twinkled through her eyes.

She pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, crossing her ankles. He couldn't help but let his eyes travel down from her waist.

Before, Taekwoon had always been pretty thin. He had broader-than-normal shoulders and was tall for his age, but his body was slim from all his constant swimming and running. Even though Taekwoon was Taewoo, Wonshik guessed other stuff hadn't changed much.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "D-Do you live here alone . . . ?" he asked, trying to shift away from Taewoo not being Taekwoon anymore.

Taewoo looked down, picking at the hem of her floral skirt. Her blonde hair slid off her shoulders and covered her arms. "I do." she murmured.

Wonshik raised his eyebrows. They were about the same age, both too young to be living on their own, and not on a campus, so . . . "But what about your p—"

"Please don't ask about them." She ran her hand through her hair and sighed, like she knew Wonshik was bound to say something else incredibly stupid. He didn't mean to, he hoped she knew that. "They're not apart of my life anymore."

Why not? he asked himself, but the answer was obvious. Taewoo wasn't Taekwoon, not anymore. "Have you been . . . okay? Y'know, on your own and stuff . . ."

She smiled, her shoulders dropping and her fingers lacing. He nearly dropped the whole thing, he knew she didn't really want to talk about it.

"It's been . . . complicated, and hard. I left home, things . . . changed. Everything changed." she answered, and by the end, it was a whisper.

A few moments of silence passed, and then Taewoo sighed. "And now, I'm here."

Wonshik didn't know what to say. What could he say? Now, Taewoo was here, living in a clean apartment, wearing pretty clothes and aside from the melancholy he probably dragged out of her, was practically glowing. She . . . was happy.

He pulled the icepack from his face and looked away. "Did . . . you think you'd ever see me again?"

She laughed and he stared up at her. "No, I . . . I honestly didn't."

Did you hope that you would? But he didn't ask that.

"I missed you." he blurted, and then immediately covered his mouth with the icepack.

Taewoo stared at him. She was so pretty. Her features were still the same, just a little softer. Her cheeks were a little rosy and the eyeliner and light mascara made her eyes larger. The lip gloss made her lips pinker, too. She would probably punch the hell out of him again if he tried to kiss her, maybe for more than one reason.

" . . . I missed you, too." she finally replied, and he felt like his heart was going to pop right out of his chest.

She pulled the icepack away and then cupped his face. Now his heart was really going to explode. "I—. . . I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye."

"It's okay," he rushed out, forcing himself not to lean into her touch. Her hands were soft and smooth and he wanted to kiss her palm. "I should've know something was happening. I should've known you weren't okay. I should've—"

"But you didn't." she pressed over him, effectively shutting him up. She his warm cheek with her thumb and he closed his eyes. "I didn't want you to know. I . . . It was just bad, I didn't want to overwhelm you like that. It's okay. I'm okay now."

Now, she said. But what about the last five years? Becoming Taewoo . . . He didn't know anything about that stuff, but it couldn't have been easy. He couldn't even begin to imagine all the she went through. He layered her hand with his.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Taewoo asked, and he opened his eyes again.

"Do you still like to cook?" he asked, and she nodded. He grinned. "Yeah. I'll help. . . . Maybe you can, uh, y'know . . . Tell me about everything, I guess? If you want."

She smiled. "Not tonight, okay?" She pulled her hand away, but he didn't let go.

'Not tonight' definitely meant some other time.