Heavy.

Her eyelids felt heavy as she opened them.

But everything else felt light.

Blurry.

Her vision was blurry at first.

But who was in front of her was clear.

So this is what her parents told her about when she was growing up.

This is what her aunts that loved to pinch her cheeks tried to explain to her.

This is what she never understood in cheesy TV shows.

This is what she could never feel when reading romance novels.

Whatever this was, made sense to her now.

Seulgi remembered it all.

She remembered her mother telling her that she would never find the right words to express the feeling, how she would only hear her heartbeat. She remembered her aunts saying she would grow up to find someone that would steal her heart, how she would be breathless. She remembered watching TV shows that showed people going weak in the knees and smiling at thoughts of their lover alone. She remembered reading books that depicted couples slow dancing under dim lights and walking hand-in-hand.

She remembered it all.

And now she had the right to tell about it.

She’ll tell her mom that now, to her, dictionaries were no help because she found someone worth an infinite amount of words. She’ll tell her how loud her heartbeat gets and how worried she gets that someone will hear it. She’ll tell her aunts that her heart was no longer hers, and how every time she saw that smile she’d lose breath. She wouldn’t care enough to watch TV anymore; her attention was on something else now. She wouldn’t bother to read a book for a while, she had someone’s hand to hold and teach them how to dance.

And Seulgi would tell her mother all about her girlfriend and how she felt safe in her arms and how she felt herself smile when with her and how she was from Canada, and how she has family there and needs to move back and…

Oh…

Seulgi forgot about that.

She forgot about the fact that this wasn’t actually Wendy’s home.

She forgot that Wendy still had a family to back to.

A family that maybe she would go home to and tell all about her new memories in Korea, and how she met someone who made her heart flutter. The words that would form stories about how much she knew Seulgi was the one would flow of her lips and she would say it all with a smile. She’d tell her parents about the view from Seoul Tower, or the appreciated and unappreciated art in an art gallery, or the sour bubble tea she had, or the coffee shop that started it all.

Or words wouldn’t flow from at all.

She’d avoid spilling everything to her family. She wouldn’t mention Seulgi, or Seoul Tower, or the art gallery, or bubble tea, or coffee, or anything. She’d tell them it was a good trip and struggle to continue a conversation with her family members dryly, not wanting them to know what happened here. She’d tell them that she was just focused on school and that she didn’t really become close with anyone.<