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It’s the middle of winter, with the sky a sheet of white and the trees completely bare, when she sees Jiyeong again.
She’s busy rearranging a crate of soul records in the middle of the shop, just beside the jazz and the funk, when the bell above the door chimes and in walks Jiyeong, wrapped in a dark puffer coat and a green scarf that fails to hide her rosy cheeks from the cold outside. When her gaze lands on Saebyeok, Jiyeong offers her a shaky grin, eyes bright and all.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding all along! Y’know, I had to ask your brother for help ‘cos I went all the way to that DVD store only to find a GS25 instead.”
Maybe it would be more appropriate to say that Jiyeong found her instead.
“The store closed down in December,” Saebyeok manages to say after a moment, setting down the record in her hands. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Jiyeong’s closer now, shrugging off her coat to drape it over a nearby stool.
“Change of plans,” she says with a smile. “Guess I really wanted to see those camellias.”
Saebyeok can’t help the slight tug in the corners of her lips.
“Well, now I’ll have to tell my boss to move my days off to this week,” she mutters, turning to face the crate of records again. “Why didn’t you text?”
It is, after all, thanks to Jiyeong that she’s gotten better at texting people (a select few) instead of forgetting about the message and leaving them on read. It’s also thanks to her that her once normal sleep schedule has long been left in the dust.
“Ah, sue me for wanting to surprise you,” Jiyeong replies, her tone bordering sarcastic. The thick sole of her boots makes it hard for her steps to go unnoticed and Saebyeok watches as Jiyeong walks around to stand in front of her, resting her gloved fingers on the edges of the jazz crate.
“But you’re right, I should’ve texted.”
Saebyeok gets something like an apology, the one missing from seconds earlier, in Jiyeong’s smile, and only then does she notice the silver hoop around her nostril. She looks back down at the records, swapping one out for the other when she mumbles, “It’s fine.”
“So, why the old, decrepit music store?” Jiyeong asks a moment later as she cards through the jazz selection gently. “There’s no dog here either.”
“Not many people come here,” Saebyeok says as if pointing out the obvious, lifting her gaze to watch Jiyeong look around the store as if there’s anyone else to seek out.
It’s a Tuesday, so the lack of foot traffic around an already quaint and isolated area is even more obvious. Even so, the store doesn’t typically see more than eight customers inside at the same time. Saebyeok’s boss told her as much when she walked in for the first time last month. He had called it simple work, probably boring too, but she finds it just fine.
She’ll gladly take simple and boring over what she used to do in Seoul.
“Hm, looks like you’re right,” Jiyeong says, then gets back to carding through the vinyls. “Sweet selection though. Have you listened to any of these?”
“Just whatever’s playing when I get here for my shift. Don’t know how to use the record player.”
Jiyeong clicks her tongue. “We should listen to one of these then.”
She holds up a record from Miles Davis and Saebyeok raises a brow at her, asking, “Do you know how to use one of those players?”
“Can’t be that hard,” Jiyeong grins.
It takes her a good ten minutes or so to switch out the records without breaking anything, and another handful of minutes to get the record to play properly, all while Saebyeok watches with an amused smile.
“When does your shift end?” Jiyeong asks when the music finally changes to a tune carried by a trumpet as opposed to an acoustic guitar.
Saebyeok glances at the clock above the cash register. “Around an hour.”
“Wanna grab dinner after this?”
“Actually, my mum’s cooking tofu stew tonight,” Saebyeok says, another unspoken invitation shrouded in her words.
It takes a brief moment but Jiyeong’s smile softens. But it doesn’t last long, because her eyes narrow as she leans in closer over the crates, peering up at Saebyeok with a widening grin.
“Did you tell your mum what my favourite stew is?” she asks teasingly.
“I didn’t even know that,” Saebyeok counters, feeling the heat rise up to her ears. “It’s a popular stew in general, isn’t it?”
She glances behind Jiyeong and frowns slightly. “Where’d you leave your stuff, by the way?”
“Oh, yeah. I left my bag at yours before coming here. Had me sweating in that coat, carrying it all over the place,” Jiyeong says. “Your adorable brother took pity on me.”
Saebyeok snorts. “As if.”
Jiyeong laughs.
“Yeah, you’re right. I had to beg and convince him that I wasn’t some weirdo.”
“Did it work?”
“Nope, not until I threw in a chocolate bar.”
✸
Because of Jiyeong’s surprise, Saebyeok locks her out of the room first to clean up the mess she left behind in the morning before helping her unpack, which is more of an excuse to spend more time around Jiyeong than it is to actually help, considering she’d only brought a stuffed duffel bag with her.
There aren’t many traces of Saebyeok in the room Jiyeong will be staying in for five nights, off-white walls bare and furniture relatively plain save for the clothes that were strewn about, because that’s just a bad habit she can’t seem to kick. There are a few framed photos on her desk, with two untouched novels she never got around to reading. Otherwise, it’s rather dull, her room.
Still, it makes her feel vulnerable, perhaps even exposed, knowing that Jiyeong will be staying in her bedroom while she takes the couch in the living room.
In hindsight, it doesn’t make much sense, since her legs will hang off the arm of the couch that Jiyeong could probably fit in just right. And there’s the matter of her bed being large enough to fit two, but Saebyeok thought she would have another week to process and accept that option.
“Does your mum drink?”
Saebyeok looks up from the pillow she’s in the middle of changing and finds Jiyeong holding up a bottle of red wine.
“Not really,” Saebyeok answers, setting down the pillow on the bed.
“Alright, I’ll keep this for us then,” Jiyeong shrugs. She swaps the bottle for a box of what look to be traditional desserts, somehow all intact. “Problem solved.”
“You really didn’t have to bring anything,” Saebyeok says as they walk out of the room, the smell of dinner immediately flooding her senses.
“You’re literally letting me stay here for free.”
“Well, that’s only because the house next door got bought out by a new owner.”
Jiyeong shoots her a look, then heads off towards the kitchen before Saebyeok can say anything else. She passes by the doorway, pausing to watch Jiyeong give her mother the desserts with both a grin and an earnest offer to help out, even though Jiyeong had once told her that she’s god awful at cooking and mostly survives off takeout in the city.
Thankfully, her mother declines the offer, assuring her that everything’s all cooked, but Jiyeong insists on helping out with something so Saebyeok walks away before she can linger any longer.
Cheol’s already sitting at the dining table and Saebyeok suspects that he’s taken the liberty to set the table judging from the tangerine he’s snacking on contentedly. She sits down across from him and he hands her a slice without any word.
“Did she really have to bribe you with a chocolate bar?” Saebyeok asks a moment later.
Cheol nods.
“It was one of those fancier ones too,” he says, then looks up at her. “How long is she staying for?”
“Just a few days.”
“I thought she was coming next week.”
“Yeah, so did I,” Saebyeok mutters, pouring water into the empty glasses.
“She’s cool, I guess,” Cheol says and it sounds an awful lot like an approval.
Saebyeok narrows her eyes at him, his expression too unreadable for her to decipher just what is going on in that little head of his. Their mother returns to set down a pot of the tofu stew on the middle of the table with Jiyeong trailing behind carrying a platter of banchan, and Saebyeok gets up to help, so the staring contest with Cheol is cut short.
She is guilty, however, of thinking about it and the situation in general as she urges her mother to sit down, taking the opportunity to fill all five bowls with the stew while Jiyeong arranges the small plates of banchan on the table. When they’re all seated, Saebyeok finally spares a proper glance at Jiyeong sitting next to her, finding that she’s looking at the setting at the head of the table, fully laid out with a bowl of steaming stew and rice, with no one there to eat it.
“For my dad,” Saebyeok mumbles then, soft enough that it only reaches Jiyeong’s ears. Jiyeong looks away then, meeting Saebyeok’s gaze with her own understanding one and she nods before turning to offer Saebyeok’s mother a grateful smile.
Below the table, her hand brushes against Saebyeok’s.
“Thank you for the meal!”
✸
“Have you never been to Jeju-do before?” Saebyeok asks, breath coming out in little puffs as she drops another tangerine into their basket.
Today, the sun peeks out through the clouds, coming and going as they shift languidly across the sky. With winter comes the tangerine harvest season, and so the rows of seemingly infinite trees are just bursting with pockets of orange against deep green. Their basket is half full now, some tangerine peel nestled in with the actual fruits because Jiyeong couldn’t help but bite into one, which ended up being on the sour side, much to her chagrin and Saebyeok’s amusement.
“Once, with my parents,” Jiyeong replies, brows furrowed as she searches for what she had earlier called the perfect tangerine. “But that was years ago, before my dad started drinking, so I don’t remember much of it.”
She sounds nonchalant, in a way Saebyeok has grown used to when it comes to Jiyeong, but it’s unnerving all the same.
In the few months they’ve known each other for, this is the first time Jiyeong’s made any mention of her parents. Then again, Saebyeok had only told her about her own father the other night, which had been a bareboned explanation at best.
But that’s what she likes about this thing they share, that it travels at its own pace and doesn’t require either of them to spill their guts out all at once, if at all, in order to move forward.
Saebyeok plucks a tangerine from the tree in front of her.
“Did coming back help with remembering?”
Jiyeong laughs a little when she shakes her head. “I don’t really care though.”
Saebyeok doesn’t doubt that.
“We can check out Hallasan at one point, if you want. I’ve never been but apparently it snows up there, while we just get rain down here,” she says, glancing at Jiyeong. “You probably knew that already, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jiyeong shrugs, but she offers Saebyeok a warm smile. “But I like hearing you talk.”
Somehow, Saebyeok manages to look away, removing the gloves off her hands so she can peel back the skin of one of the tangerines in one continuous strip. Splitting the fruit in half, she hands Jiyeong one half, ears burning underneath the knitted beanie Jiyeong insisted on buying for her.
“Here,” she mutters. “Gotta take advantage of the all-you-can-eat deal you paid for.”
“Well, here’s to never getting scurvy,” Jiyeong knocks her half against Saebyeok’s before popping a segment into her mouth, which immediately twists in distaste. “Oh god, that was really fucking sour.”
Even so, she eats it all anyway.
✸
They don’t find that perfect tangerine nor do they end up going to Hallasan.
Instead, Saebyeok finds herself staring at Jiyeong’s profile painted in the blues of the aquarium as a vast school of fish swim in front of them, scales glimmering in the light. They’ve been standing there for fifteen minutes now, right in the middle of the gigantic plexiglass window separating them from the marine life behind it, and Jiyeong’s been holding Saebyeok’s hand for at least ten of those minutes.
A whale shark cuts through the school then and Jiyeong lets out a low whistle as the fish disperse like the red sea, squeezing Saebyeok’s hand and looking away to meet her gaze that doesn’t waver for once.
“So, what do you think? Whale or shark?” Jiyeong asks.
Saebyeok glances at the information panel to her left.
“Says here that it’s a shark.”
Jiyeong scoffs. “I don’t buy it.”
Saebyeok raises a brow at her, lips lifting into an amused smirk.
“Are you gonna take it up with the marine biologists?”
“Now that you mention it, I should,” Jiyeong says, looking like she’s actually entertaining the idea and Saebyeok laughs. Then she tugs on Saebyeok’s hand, leading her away from the whale shark towards one of the tunnels where fish swim above their heads and stingrays stay glued to the plexiglass surface, smiling down at them. “C’mon, let’s go find the penguins.”
✸
It’s two in the morning and Saebyeok is in the kitchen making herself a cup of hot citrus tea when the sound of footsteps creeping behind her startles her. A quiet yelp slips out and she catches the spoon just before it can clatter in the sink and wake someone up, before turning around to fix a glare on whoever managed to pull the embarrassing sound out of her.
Clad in her oversized matching pajamas, Jiyeong greets her with a sheepish smile, not looking the slightest bit sorry.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks in lieu of an apology.
Turning back around, Saebyeok nods and pulls out another mug from the cabinets to prepare a second serving of the tea.
“A bit too cold out here tonight,” she says without really meaning to. Last thing she wants is for Jiyeong to feel bad for taking her room. “Must be from the rain earlier.”
When Jiyeong moves to squeeze in beside her, Saebyeok feels the hand that just barely ghosts over the small of her back, and despite the frigid chill that’s settled in, her skin all but burns when Jiyeong’s arm brushes against hers.
Saebyeok hands her the second mug with a shaky hand, though she doesn’t shrink back under Jiyeong’s gaze.
“You could just,” Jiyeong pauses to take a sip from her mug. “Stay with me, y’know?”
Saebyeok doesn’t reply, opting to drink some of her tea instead.
“Your bed’s big enough for two,” Jiyeong continues. “And you know what they say about sharing body heat. We’d be like the penguins from—”
“Okay.”
Jiyeong’s eyes widen, as if she’d been expecting a completely different answer. “Okay?”
“Just finish your tea first,” Saebyeok mutters.
“Alright,” Jiyeong says and finishes her scalding hot tea in record time, face red and eyes bright.
When they head back to the bedroom minutes later, because Saebyeok didn’t want to risk burning her tongue, Jiyeong lifts the blanket for Saebyeok to slip under. Coated in the moonlight shining through the sheer curtains behind them, they lie facing each other on the edges of their pillows and the hint of a shy smile Jiyeong offers Saebyeok is almost uncharacteristic of her, nearly catching Saebyeok off guard.
She doesn’t know how long they remain that way, only that the silence that’s settled between them is comfortable and warm. And yet, it doesn’t feel enough for her.
“Your feet are like ice,” Jiyeong whispers, though the interruption doesn’t quite ruin the moment. “Why don’t you wear socks to bed?”
Saebyeok blinks at her, then scowls lightly.
“Because it feels weird.”
“Your toes are gonna fall off one day.”
“I’m not gonna get hypothermia from sleeping without socks,” Saebyeok deadpans and Jiyeong tuts softly.
“Ah, but you’ll never know, will you?” she whispers back.
With a harmless glare, Saebyeok presses her toes against Jiyeong’s exposed ankle under the covers in retaliation.
When they lapse back into another silence, Jiyeong’s gaze softens when she asks, “Is this really okay?”
Giving her a short nod, Saebyeok wonders if Jiyeong can’t stand the quiet, reaching for her hand above the covers to intertwine their fingers, as if the nod wasn’t enough of an approval.
“Cool,” Jiyeong whispers, looking down at their joined hands.
Saebyeok isn’t sure if she’s imagining the rosy tint to her cheeks, isn’t sure if she’s allowed to want what she wants, but her gaze drops to Jiyeong’s lips for a second and when she looks back up, Jiyeong is watching her and Saebyeok thinks she sees some of her own want in Jiyeong’s expression.
“Can I kiss you?” Saebyeok murmurs a moment later, her grasp tightening ever so slightly around Jiyeong’s hand. She almost misses the short nod given to her.
It’s chaste, nearly fleeting, and Saebyeok nearly pulls away just as their lips graze. But she doesn’t, and in return she learns that Jiyeong tastes faintly of the citrus tea they had in the kitchen, with a hint of spearmint that doesn’t quite get rid of the taste of the piña colada they had even earlier in spite of the weather outside.
As far as first kisses go, well, Saebyeok has no complaints.
Jiyeong lets out a relieved laugh when they pull away, inching closer to Saebyeok so that their noses are nearly touching, grinning prettily as ever.
“Ah shit, do that again, Kang Saebyeok, and I’ll just have to ask you to be my girlfriend.”
So naturally, Saebyeok does just that.
✸
There’s the lightest dusting of snow over the camellias and hydrangeas as they make their way through the gardens, before settling in front of a section of red camellias with an empty bench. Jiyeong flags down a stranger to help take a photo of them, as she did in the two previous areas they visited, wrapping an arm around Saebyeok’s waist to pull her closer.
Saebyeok’s sure there’s at least fifty new pictures on Jiyeong’s phone since they arrived at the gardens.
Resting her head on Saebyeok’s shoulder, Jiyeong’s typing something on said phone when she says, “Hey, did you know that camellias are basically a love confession in flower language?”
There’s a hint of a tease in her tone that has Saebyeok narrowing her eyes at her, leaning away when the telltale smirk she’d been expecting finally makes its appearance on Jiyeong’s face.
“Were you gonna confess to me here?” Jiyeong finally asks, crowding into Saebyeok’s space with a smug smirk. “That’s adorable.”
Ears burning, Saebyeok lightly pushes her away with a palm to the face.
“Absolutely not.”
“Liar,” Jiyeong says against her palm.
Dropping her hand, Saebyeok scowls and Jiyeong grins up at her, clinging onto her arm.
“What do you say to picking a little flower from here as a symbol of our love?”
“That’s like the one thing you’re not meant to do here,” Saebyeok says, giving her a look. “We can just buy one at the store. You know, like normal people do.”
Jiyeong lets out a melodramatic sigh, slumping against Saebyeok’s side. “Romance is dead and gone. Should’ve known better than to fall for you. You’ve got the face of a heartbreaker.”
With a slight smile, Saebyeok rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around Jiyeong.
“Cry about it.”
“I just might.”