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“You guys are not dating.”
“Of course we are!” Ryujin insists once again after being challenged by the cashier.
As everyone in line and the young man in front of them must have noticed, Lee Chaeryeong and Shin Ryujin are not a couple. If her opinion matters, Chaeryeong blames Ryujin for being such a stubborn person and insisting on coming for a special offer aimed at couples—a poster right above them says “if you bring your partner, you only pay for one ticket!”—even though they are obviously just friends.
The cashier examines them with narrowed eyes. “If you say so, I guess you don't mind kissing to prove it, like everyone else is doing.”
Both girls share a look and the same concerned glint in Ryujin’s eyes also sparkles in Chaeryeong's orbs.
“You’re fetishizing queer women,” her best friend tries again, voice lingering between affliction and something that should probably sound like anger.
“But everyone is kissing,” the cashier refutes, “and if I treat you differently, that would be homophobia.” He smiles triumphantly. “Please, I insist.”
Ryujin looks at her, the deep brown eyes staring right into Chaeryeong's soul. She ignores Ryujin’s glare and decides to convince that stupid cashier.
“You can’t just—”
Then, her lungs flushes out all the air inside it when Ryujin seals their lips together.
Her eyes automatically bulge and Chaeryeong’s body, paralyzed by her best friend's sudden approach, can't bring itself to fight against the surprising—and inappropriate—embrace. It lasts forever while it lingers. Ryujin’s lips are dry against Chaeryeong's mouth and her stomach must be in its third backflip when Ryujin decides to cup her face with incredibly gentle fingers.
“I’ve seen enough” The cashier grunts, rummaging for something inside his little cabin. Ryujin separates from the embrace, her hands taking a little too long to leave Chaeryeong’s cheeks. “You guys can go.”
Ryujin grabs Chaeryeong’s wrist without facing her and dashes into the theater.
Silence reigns between them.
She moves around the chair every twenty seconds, a crackling sound reverberating inside the old place. Chaeryeong should not be here, side by side with Ryujin, which is quite strange, considering that's the thing she likes to do the most: being side by side with her oldest and most cherished friendship.
“Hey.” Ryujin squeezes Chaeryeong's hand, hotness radiating from her and spreading all over Chaeryeong's body. “Stop moving.”
In normal times, Chaeryeong would say a silly thing, make fun of herself or Ryujin, but everything sounds weird in her head.
She nods. “Sorry.”
And Ryujin notices, because of course she does, they've been friends for years. Ryujin might know more about Chaeryeong mannerisms and personality than any other person.
“We can talk about it.” Her soft voice kisses Chaeryeong’s ears and her hand squeezes stronger, like a python constricting a tiny rodent.
“It’s fine,” she manages to say.
Chaeryeong tries to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. It must be apparent, because Ryujin chuckles and leans forward to kiss her temple.
Why would she do that.
It's normal, Chaeryeong tells herself. They have been friends for so many years now, she feels like Ryujin performs more displays of affection with her than with anyone else, including past girlfriends.
But, again, why does she. The answer for this question suddenly feels like the most important thing in the whole world.
“Just watch the movie, we'll talk later.” Ryujin's voice sounds tender, but fails to soothe Chaeryeong.
(...)
After one hour and forty minutes—the film's duration—“later” finally comes.
Ryujin swings her legs mindlessly through the concrete forest while Chaeryeong tries to think of words that are not “kiss” or “Ryujin” and she fails miserably. Strangely, her best friend smiles, like nothing happened and everything remains the same.
“How are you so okay with it?” She asks. Ryujin stops waddling and starts to walk like a normal person. “Like, we just kissed. Isn't it… weird?”
Ryujin startles a laugh. “Yeah, but… do you feel anything?”
“What? No!”
Her best friend hums beside her, the expression on her face unreadable. Then, Ryujin smiles, a soft curve on her lips that makes her cheeks look like whiskers.
“So, stop worrying,” she says. “A kiss won't change us. Want to eat something?”
That's not really the conversation Chaeryeong imagined in her head, but accepts it as the most she will get from Ryujin. Also, her best friend might be right. A kiss won't change them.
“Yeah, I'm kinda craving pasta right now.”
Ryujin's smile gets wider and brighter. “I know a cool place.”
The cool place in question, full of couples and people who clearly are into each other but not quite together, sits close to the movie theater.
Again, Chaeryeong asks herself why.
Ryujin doesn't seem annoyed by the stupidly romantic environment or by the fact that they were assigned to a hidden and slightly shadowy corner, to a table that allows them to hold hands.
The acai-like colored cushion, combined with dim lights and dark shades of gray and red, plus the dramatic chandelier hanging in the middle of the ceiling makes intimacy crawl under Chaeryeong’s skin. It only gets worse as the sun sets outside and rays of a crimson orange flashes Chaeryeong for five silent minutes. When the sun kindly decides to stop beaming her eyes, Chaeryeong urges for it to come back and blind her forever. Ryujin sits facing her, lips slightly curved into a lazy smile, which Chaeryeong can't figure out why it decorates her face.
Then, the damn waiter comes. “You guys are the cutest couple! What can I get for you?”
Chaeryeong melts in her chair. Couple. The end of the day is still far from over, but it's the second time they present as two individuals in a romantic relationship and not in a ten years old friendship mutually nurtured and cherished.
“Thanks! May we get a—”
“We’re not a couple.” She firmly says, disconnecting their intertwined hands above the table.
Her statement doesn't sound awful, but every pair of eyes inside the restaurant turns to look at them. Chaeryeong’s nape burns and, with the corner of her eyes, she caughts at least three couples staring. Although she performed a completely normal reaction, the other customers don't seem to agree.
“Sorry.” The waiter shoots Ryujin a pitiful look and Chaeryeong wants to kill him for it. “Anyway, what will you order?”
Their pasta comes shortly after.
Everyone already forgot about Chaeryeong's little accident from earlier, but Ryujin remains suspiciously quiet. Chaeryeong wants to say she's sorry, even though she has no reason or whatsoever to feel so.
She doesn't need to. Ryujin talks first after three or four bites. “Sorry, I should've corrected him.”
They have upset each other before, of course, because you can't know someone for a decade and treat them well every single day, but this feels completely different for reasons Chaeryeong wants to ignore.
“It’s… okay,” she carefully says. Then, “I get it, you probably came here with Minjeong and didn't realize this place is literally a couple hangout.”
Ryujin slightly flinches. Chaeryeong thinks she just committed another mistake mentioning the-one-who-must-not-be-named, but Ryujin shakes her head and smiles sadly.
“I never brought her to this place.” She takes another bite, swallowing the conversation along with pasta.
Chaeryeong learns that two months is not enough time to forget an almost one year old relationship. She wants, again, to say sorry for something that isn't really her fault—it kind of is, but Chaeryeong can not bear to be wrong or the one to blame. Still, Ryujin has been her best friend since they were 9 years old. She must say something.
Therefore, when they finally leave the restaurant, Chaeryeong squeezes Ryujin’s hand with her own, ignoring how her chest celebrates that, and looks as long as possible into her eyes.
“Sorry for everything. You know, acting childish and saying your ex name.”
Chaeryeong tries to pull her hand back, but Ryujin stops the attempt by sliding her fingers between Chaeryeong's knuckles and, for the third time that day, makes them be perceived as lovers and a old woman passing by smiles lovingly at them.
“You don't need to feel sorry about anything. Really.”
Then, Ryujin does something she did at least a million times before, but somehow, it's not the same. She brings Chaeryeong’s hand to her mouth and kisses the back of it, the one part not being mercilessly cuddled by Ryujin’s palm. The previously dry lips are now slightly oily, a consequence of eating pasta, and remnants of grease lie on Chaeryeong's hand. It sizzles and cooks her skin. Despite this, her best friend owns tender lips and Chaeryeong, against her will, misses the gentle contact when Ryujin’s mouth disconnects from her skin.
“Thanks… for being nice to me, even though I can tell you're freaking out.”
“I’m not!” Chaeryeong’s hand boils in the skin Ryujin pressed her lips. “You kissed me, you can't expect me to just live life as if nothing happened!”
Ryujin chuckles. “A lot of girls tell me that.”
“Shut up.”
Ryujin laughs, a deep sound coming from her throat, and Chaeryeong fights the urge to smile.
“Promise me…” Ryujin starts, her thumb drawing imaginary circles on Chaeryeong's hand with digits made of lava. “Promise you won't change with me.”
Chaeryeong commits the last mistake of the day. She looks right into Ryujin's big brown eyes, the chocolate color gives her beautiful face a pure aura and Chaeryeong hates it.
“I promise you.” She tries her best to smile reassuringly.
(...)
One week later, Chaeryeong receives a message.
08:43 P.M
you fucking liar.
No funny emoji, no cringy GIF—thank God, because Chaeryoung can't take it anymore—and no “photo from now” attached. She got herself a problem. A big one.
10:01 P.M
im super busy
sorry
10:02 P.M
i dont believe you
10:10 P.M
oh no
ryujinie doesn't believe me
: (
Chaeryeong swears she has a good reason for that, which is: Ryujin, as always, was completely wrong. She told Chaeryeong a kiss wouldn't change them. Well, it did. At least, for Chaeryeong. Now, everytime they touch or talk, a long existing but ignored warmth boils inside Chaeryeong's ribcage, burning her flesh and begging her to allow it to put fire on everything.
So, her solution for it consists of refusing Ryujin's calls, turning down every invite to hangout and taking more than enough hours to respond to a text.
That's why, when thunderous knocks on her door echo through her dorm, Chaeryeong is more than surprised to see an angry Ryujin on the other side.
Although, after she notices what Chaeryeong wears—a cotton white shirt and pants, both pieces of clothes almost transparent and full of tiny red hearts—the brow furrowed in anger dissolves into the most disgustingly obscene grin Chaeryeong has ever seen on the lips of her best friend. She's almost sure that's a joke. Almost because after that infamous day, Chaeryeong doubts Ryujin and whatever she thinks or feels about… well, Chaeryeong refuses to ponder about that.
“We need to talk.”
Her dorm is a painfully cramped thing.
Chaeryeong's cubicle consists of a bunk bed, two tiny desks, both full of books, pens and a two weeks old taco lies clumsily in one of Yeji’s magazines about engineering, an overly complicated closet full of ownerless clothes—they share it so much Chaeryeong can't actually point a finger to claim what is hers—medicine for allergies, makeup, a dirty tiny mirror that only fits two faces and, the most important aspect of their room: a Girl's Generation poster (obviously from Chaeryeong's old room) side by side with a 5 Seconds of Summer one, Yeji’s main obsession during her teenage years.
Although she's aware of the small place, Ryujin dashes through the door and stands right in the middle of it, arms crossed above her chest and an insistent smile on her face—but Chaeryeong can tell she tries hard to look angry.
“Cute pajamas,” she says, a laugh caged in the throat.
“What are you doing here?” Chaeryeong sounds too harsh, even for her own ears. Ryujin flinches a little—and Chaeryeong eagerly ignores how that made imaginary knives stab into her chest—but proceeds to achieve her goal to look sturdy. “I mean—”
“Shut up and listen to me. We need to talk.”
To make it clear that Chaeryeong doesn't have any option but engage in a painfully awkward conversation, Ryujin sits on her bed and pats the space beside her, calling Chaeryeong to rest there.
She would rather die.
“Okay. Then say whatever you want.”
Ryujin snorts. “You’re the one with something to say!”
“I have nothing—”
“You do!” Ryujin probably didn't intend to be harsh, because her face twists up slightly, like her voice surprised her. “We don't go out anymore. You don't talk to me unless I call you first and, even when I do, you take hundreds of years to accept the call. You—”
“I got it.”
Silence reigns inside the room until Ryujin lets out a long, tired sigh. It seems like she just came back from war instead of talking to Chaeryeong.
“I— I just don't want to lose you.” It comes out as a whisper, but of course Chaeryeong hears it. She wishes to be deaf.
Chaeryeong only heard that super-honest-and-vulnerable-voice from Ryujin twice in her entire life. The first time, they were teenagers and Ryujin confessed she liked girls on the verge of crying, just to be responded with a guffaw from Chaeryeong, followed by a “you finally figured it out!”, which Ryujin did not appreciate. The second time, they sat on a bar’s chair two months ago and Ryujin told Chaeryeong that she loved Minjeong, but when asked the reason behind their break up, Ryujin went mysteriously silent and took a sip from her very first whiskey.
Now, Chaeryeong just heard it for the third time and she's the reason behind it.
Her heart turns into ice shards, stinging her chest from inside out.
“Sorry,” she finally says. “And… and you're not losing me.”
People usually say the eyes are the window to the soul, but while gazing deeply at the pool of hot chocolate in front of her, Chaeryeong doesn't know what to call that feeling. It makes Ryujin’s eyes form a fine line of water and her eyelids twitch.
“Chaeryeong, I think I'm in—”
The door behind Chaeryeong suddenly opens and she swirls around rapidly until the invading person can be seen.
Of course.
Her roommate, clueless and using earphones blasting a familiar, yet unrecognized, rock song, dashes without even realizing she just interrupted the most painful moment of Chaeryeong's life. It takes three solid seconds and a fake cough for Yeji to notice the heavy air closing around her.
“Oh,” she murmurs. “Should I wait outside or…?” The rest lingers in the air.
Chaeryeong is about to send her away, but Ryujin stands abruptly and the roommates stare at her, expecting. Chaeryeong still can't figure out the song blasting in Yeji’s ears nor the look in Ryujin’s face and her brain can't deal with that much information.
“Don’t worry, I need to go.” She smiles politely before walking away.
Yeji and Chaeryeong stare at each other, her roommate shoots a puzzled look while Chaeryeong tries her best to be perceived as innocent and totally not guilty for saddening Ryujin. It does not work.
“What did you say to her?”
“Nothing, we…” Chaeryeong uses all her brain power to think about a good reason to give and explain to Yeji why Ryujin looked at her and—probably—almost cried. Unfortunately, her gray mass sucks. “I’ll be back.”
Chaeryeong storms out of the cubicle to look for Ryujin, which is quite easy, considering her room is five doors away from Chaeryeong's own dorm.
“Ryujin!” She calls.
Her best friend stops twirling the keys and looks at her, eyes already dry, but cheeks suspiciously wet. Chaeryeong strolls until she faces Ryujin and only because they have been friends for a long time and Chaeryeong has done it at least ten million times before, her hand automatically flies to Ryujin’s soft cheeks to wipe away the remaining path of tears—you know, because of muscle memory. With hands cupping her best friend's face, holding it with a gentleness that certainly does not belong to her, suddenly Chaeryeong forgets what she should say.
“I’m sorry, really.” She manages to remember. “I was silly.”
Ryujin’s eyes carefully analyze Chaeryeong, she can tell. Her best friend’s dark orbs travel through Chaeryeong's entire face in a matter of three seconds, but it feels like more, especially when Ryujin focuses on her lips.
“Chaeryeong, I…” The remaining piece of whatever she wanted to say dies inside her mouth.
Instead, slender arms cradle around Chaeryeong's waist and she feels like a street cat being caressed by someone who doesn't want to spook them. Naturally, she corresponds to it by gently wrapping her arms around Ryujin’s neck, squeezing her nape just a bit. Her best friend melts under the touch, muscles softening as Chaeryeong strokes her hair. She seems relieved, like Chaeryeong took the sky out of her shoulders instead of just admitting to be wrong.
They shared probably a million hugs before and Chaeryeong reminisces the longest one lasted for two hours—they watched a horror movie Ryujin illegally downloaded and it clearly wasn't made for easily scared teenagers—but even when put against the one with a prolonged time of duration, this one wins by a great margin. The embrace merely lasts for four or five seconds, but the overwhelmingly warm sensation of intimacy crawls over Chaeryeong’s body, coming from her legs and curling itself around her chest. It’s deep and superficial at the same time and she can sense it spreading everywhere.
“I just don't want to lose you,” Ryujin whispers.
And Chaeryeong tries. She really does.
Chaeryeong tells herself that's completely normal for best friends. The way they're always together. The odd way they are always, for some reason, touching each other. The way Chaeryeong feels when Ryujin says things like that while using her super-honest-and-vulnerable-voice.
Chaeryeong fails to believe herself and it can only mean something bad.
Ryujin disconnects them and, God bless her soul for it, because Chaeryeong wouldn't be able to do it even if someone offered her billions of dollars.
“I need to sleep,” Ryujin says, her hands still resting on Chaeryeong's waist. “See you tomorrow.”
When Ryujin closes the door, Chaeryeong becomes self aware again. She stands in the middle of the hallway, facing the door to Ryujin’s room, completely silent and still.
What is wrong with her.
Chaeryeong shakes her head, pacing back to her dorm. Yeji waits for her lying on Chaeryeong's bed—at this point, it's basically a public bench.
“Are you guys fine?”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “I hope you took a shower before touching my bed or I'll give Luke Hemmings a mustache.”
“I would literally rip Jessica Jung out of the wall,” Yeji laughs, probably thinking she's so clever.
“I can't believe you actually said that.”
(...)
Chaeryeong quickly figures she needs a plan to stop this bizarre feeling from growing stronger. It takes her approximately two days to realize the perfect plan sits four desks and one pillar away from where Chaeryeong is situated while pretending to study.
She can't believe Kim Minjeong might be her savior.
“Hi.” Chaeryeong greets her with a shark-like smile. “We haven't seen you in a while!”
The bob haired girl moves around, eyes examining the area in search of someone sitting next to her. She's completely alone.
Just to clarify, Minjeong points a lingering finger at herself, a frown forming in her brow. “Me?”
“Yeah… you.”
“Ah,” she murmurs, “and you have any clue why it's like that?”
Chaeryeong can stress how much she hates Law students.
“I know you two broke up,” Chaeryeong starts, being as careful as she can, “but Ryujin looks sooo sad these days.”
That could be a lot of things, but surely wasn't the truth. Being completely honest, Chaeryeong never saw Ryujin smiling so much as she did for the last two weeks. She looks brighter and smiles like she never did before. Chaeryoung ignores her brain telling she's selfish for bringing that back to Ryujin's life.
“She doesn't look sad,” Minjeong refutes.
“You know Ryujin, right? Always hiding how she feels and such things…” Minjeong's face twists and straightens up in a matter of milliseconds. Chaeryeong can't believe Ryujin dated this weird little woman.
“You clearly know more about her, right?”
Chaeryeong knows pretty well that came out full of poison because Minjeong intended to and not because it's just how she is, Ryujin’s favorite argument to refute Chaeryeong when she used to say Minjeong hated her for no apparent reason.
“Well, we've been friends for a lot of—” An arched eyebrow from Minjeong tells Chaeryeong she needs to shut up. “Anyway, we need your help.”
Chaeryeong proceeds to tell her about this obviously false narrative of how Ryujin looks sad and alone and unhappy without Minjeong, moping around and crying in public. Chaeryeong exaggerated to the point that not even she could believe the words leaving her own mouth, but Minjeong—
“Are you serious?” But Minjeong believes her.
“I’m super serious.” She couldn't be less serious. “Yesterday, Ryujin literally came to my room and cried all night.”
Actually, Ryujin went to Chaeryeong’s room to show her a new shirt and haunt her with an unasked affection.
“She’s inconsolable.” Chaeryeong doesn't even know if she's using that word correctly.
Minjeong ponders for a while. Then, “Okay, I'll give her a call.”
With that, Chaeryeong leaves carrying books she did not use and a marker probably out of ink.
(...)
Approximately three hours later, when Jisu insists they should go out because the five of them never do that and blah blah blah —which is a lie—the quintet sits on their self assigned table at the bar adopted on Yuna’s 21st birthday. It’s weirdly crowded today. The bartender winks at them and Yeji decides, for no specific reason, she's the one ordering drinks tonight.
There are pride flags hanging loosely on the wall, side by side with a Mets one that yielded silly jokes from Jisu when they first entered—“guys, I have something to say… I'm Mets,” to which Yeji replied, “oh, no. I can't accept this''—and a pool table sitting lonely on one corner, next to the bathroom.
After two or three rounds, Ryujin announces she has something serious to confess. Needless to say, four nosy pairs of eyes glare at her.
“Minjeong invited me to go out with her. Like, alone.”
Chaeryeong pretends to be utterly shocked like she didn't just schemed the whole thing.
“What?!” Yuna receives a weak slap in the arm from Yeji for screaming. “Why would she— What did you say?”
Apart from Yuna, the other girls remain silent, waiting for the continuation. Ryujin sips the whiskey and takes a lot to swallow it.
Attention seeker. Chaeryeong can't believe she's into that.
“I said I’d think about it,” she admits.
Their little table at the corner goes silent. From the chair Chaeryeong sits on, she can see almost everyone in the bar. Most of them are young people, some she can recognize from classes and the university hallways. They laugh or crack unfunny jokes or flirt or kiss. Chaeryeong wishes to be one of their friends and listen to their bullshit instead of sitting inside this bubble of heavy air surrounding her real friends.
“You what?!” Jisu breaks the silence. “I can't believe you! You literally just got over it and—”
“Calm down!” Ryujin startles a weak chuckle, sipping again from her whiskey out of embarrassment. “I actually… thought about it. But I want you guys opinion.”
Jisu tries to scream at her again, but Yuna stops it, stating Jisu already made her point clear.
Then, Yeji cleans her throat. “I think you should go for it.”
That raises a lot of protests from Jisu and Yuna, who takes the opportunity to expose her point, which basically consists of:
“That girl is strange! We went out together and she just stared at people and never said anything! Weird ass girl.”
If Chaeryeong, who drank the least, feels her chest burbling with the silly urge to laugh at absolutely everything, it's needless to say how that simple opinion from Yuna makes them laugh until everything starts swirling around.
For the record, Chaeryeong completely agrees with her.
“What about you?” Yeji asks her. “It's two and one.”
Yuna whines. “Ryujin only listens to Chaeryeong, it's unfair!”
“I don't!”
A red flush comes to Ryujin's cheeks. Chaeryeong prefers to think the whiskey caused it.
“So?”
Four pairs of eyes look at her, expecting.
Again, Chaeryeong does agree with Yuna. There's something inside her that wants Chaeryeong to disrupt the plan she created, an ugly thing that wants Ryujin to stay forever single and side by side with Chaeryeong, just like before, when they were kids and no strange feelings crawled under Chaeryeong’s skin.
Therefore, she makes a decision. “She’s great. I think you should go out.”
“Fuck you, Lee Chaeryeong!” Jisu screams, throwing shriveled french fries at Chaeryeong’s face.
They laugh again, more than the last time. Nevertheless, Chaeryeong sees a disappointed glint in Ryujin's eyes while they laugh. She's too drunk to tell, though.
(...)
Her plan works.
Shit. Her plan works.
That's why, on a Saturday night, after studying all day and yearning for a sip of beer while laughing with her friends, Chaeryeong sits face to face with Kim Minjeong.
Ryujin must have told her about what Yuna said last time, because Minjeong presents herself as a talkative and charming person instead of the usual psychopath vibe.
Chaeryeong still doesn't like her.
“I’m glad you guys are back together!” Yeji looks endearingly at Minjeong. Chaeryeong can't figure why Yeji likes her.
“Me too.”
Minjeong and Ryujin share a disgustingly sweet gaze and Chaeryeong’s stomach growls, telling her to slap Minjeong’s pretty face, sink her nails on Ryujin’s skin and claim her as Chaeryeong’s property.
Nevertheless, watching what's in front of her isn't the worst part. It's what lies beneath her sight that infuriates Chaeryeong the most. The way she knows Minjeong squeezes Ryujin's thigh underneath the table and what Ryujin whispers in Minjeong’s ears while pulling her closer by the waist when she thinks no one looks.
Well, Chaeryeong gaps at them, open and expressive. Yeji pinches her arm and asks if she ate something spoiled.
“No,” she grunts. “I’ll get more beer.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She doesn't wait.
Beside her, Ryujin asks for an overly complicated drink that can only be for Minjeong, because her best friend would never drink something that's not whiskey or give that much trouble to a bartender.
“I have something to tell you.” She stops, breathing heavily. “Minjeong and I are… trying.”
There's more.
Chaeryeong can tell, of course she can. She's the only one who can and feels too proud of it for comfort. Chaeryeong, the only person in the world who knows Ryujin, what food she loves and hates, her favorite color and movie. Not Minjeong.
“Congratulations?”
Ryujin startles a chuckle. “Look, I'm sorry, really.” Their drinks are finally put in front of them, but neither moves. “We are testing things, you know? Like—
“Please don't tell me about your sexually active life,” Chaeryeong bursts, exaggeratedly sipping from her cup.
Ryujin startles a giggle, but pulls at her collar and winces. “I meant, like a test drive, to figure if that's the right thing to do and… and we can't be friends anymore.”
Her elbows on the counter are the only thing stopping Chaeryeong from staggering. Her stomach shrinks, she's not glad to admit that simple phrase made the world spin and turn her legs into thin noodles. Chaeryeong tells herself she's too drunk, although, deep inside, that's not the truth and she knows it.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s our test,” Ryujin quickly justifies. “For some weeks, probably. Look, Minjeong thinks you might get in our way and I swear I tried to convince her, but—”
“What?!” Chaeryeong interrupts. “We’ve been friends for years, Ryujin.”
Ryujin flinches at her name being mentioned with such rudeness. Chaeryeong watches her life from another person's perspective, unreality washing over her.
Chaeryeong came up with that stupid plan to keep Ryujin busy and away from her while that ridiculous warmth could leave her body, she didn't expect Ryujin to be the one sending her away, saying they couldn't be friends anymore because Minjeong, the perfect girlfriend who just spent the night being annoyingly clingy to Ryujin and torturing Chaeryeong. The perfect girl who doesn't know basic things about Ryujin after one year dating her, her favorite drink or how pretty she looks while wearing white.
“I know.” Ryujin squeezes Chaeryeong's hand softly, brings it to her mouth and kisses. An old memory replays in Chaeryeong's mind, but she quickly dismisses it. “I’m sorry.”
Ryujin’s brown eyes, as deep as the ocean, beams Chaeryeong with affection and pity. Pity. She pulls her hand back violently and Ryujin flinches, calling unwanted attention for them from all sides.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Can you be less—”
“Less what?” Ryujin pleads with her eyes, stepping closer as if to try to hug Chaeryeong, who keeps her body sturdy. “I thought you’d give me peace, but I didn't expect this.”
Ryujin’s body shrinks defensively. “Give you peace?”
The alcohol kicks in and brings intoxicated ideas for her brain. She wants to tell Ryujin about her Minjeong-plan and how she's sorry about it because Chaeryeong is the better option. She wants to tell Ryujin to break up with Minjeong and never look at other girls again.
“Don't worry about talking to me again, I won't get in your way.”
Of all options, her heart doesn't classify that one as the most popular alternative; letting Ryujin go without a fight.
“That’s not how I wanted things to go!” Ryujin whispers. Chaeryeong’s nape burns and, by the way her best friend constantly peeks over her shoulder, Chaeryeong can tell Minjeong glares at them. Yet, Ryujin timidly wraps her arms around Chaeryeong's waist, slightly pulling her. “Don’t do this to me.”
“You did this to you. To us” She sounds incredibly meekly, especially considering what's going on inside her. “Tell the others I’ll go home. I don't feel good.”
Ryujin opens her mouth to plead again, but Chaeryeong dashes through the bar, elbowing at least three people by accident.
She wishes to be run over by a bus. The bar is not far from the dorm, but every stride she takes feels like one step away from where Chaeryeong should be.
She can't help but ponder about why she did that with herself, putting Minjeong and Ryujin on the same page again. And she doesn't even get why she's sad. Why she feels like Minjeong stole a piece of her soul and now refuses to give it back to her. Chaeryeong wants this. She spent one week ignoring Ryujin, but when she noticed that would be an impossible task and Ryujin would never let her go without a fight, Chaeryeong decided to force her into it.
And it worked.
So, why does her eyes sting and tears fall from her face like a waterfall?
Chaeryeong keeps thinking that same thing over and over again, running in circles inside her own head until she's face to face with her room’s door.
The dorm seems haunted. Not because it's dark or smells like spoiled food—Yeji really needs to clean her desk—but Chaeryeong drank enough to see ghosts.
She closes the door behind her and stands in the middle of the room, staring at her bed. Specifically, the spot Ryujin sat one week ago to confront her about the disappearance. Chaeryeong can see the look on her best friend’s face and hear her voice saying I just don't want to lose you.
Fucking liar.
It's dark, but Chaeryeong watches the reflexe on the mirror. The face stares back at her. She's angry and sad at the same time, and Chaeryeong knows that’s her face, but it doesn't feel so. It just seems like she's a ghost watching another ghost.
God, she drank too much.
Chaeryeong doesn't mind laying on her bed with the same clothes from the bar. She tries to ignore the smell of Ryujin’s perfume on her jacket's lapel. Chaeryeong also tries to forget the silhouette her brain decides to show her everytime she closes her eyes.
It takes a lot battling against her weird feelings and insisting thoughts, but Chaeryeong manages to sleep.
(...)
“Ryujin asked about you,” Yeji says, squeezing Chaeryeong's shoulders. “You’re so tense.”
Nowadays, instead of her usual mindless strolls with Jisu or Ryujin between classes, Chaeryeong spends most of her free time sitting on her desk and studying like her life depends on it—kind of does because 1) she desperately needs a job and 2) her scholarship demands good grades.
“I’m busy,” she justifies.
Yeji squeezes her shoulder again and a wave of relief runs through Chaeryeong’s whole body. Her roommate decides to be kind and kneads her nape, drawing semi circles on it and magically destroying nods Chaeryeong just realized it existed.
“You guys had a fight?”
She doesn't know the answer for that. They have fought before, but nothing serious. Most of the fights just happened because Ryujin knew no limits as a teenager and Chaeryeong used to get mad easily. As they got older, Ryujin stopped pushing Chaeryeong buttons and the taller girl—because she actually grew, take that Ryujin—became more lenient, and the fights became rare.
But, this time, Ryujin just dumped her, not a big thing.
“No, I just… I'm busy, just that.” Yeji purposefully strains her trapezius and Chaeryeong whines in pain. She needs other friends.
“It’s almost her birthday,” Her roommate says, being careful. “You’re invited.”
Chaeryeong tries to fight the urge to ask if you-know-who will be there. She loses the battle.
“Is Minjeong also going?”
Yeji stares at her with a furrowed brow. “Of course, they're officially back together.” Oh. Right. “You knew that?”
“Of course!”
Yeji clearly doesn't believe her, but—and Chaeryeong gladly accepts her disinterest—decides not to force answers out.
“Are you going?”
“I’ll think about it.”
(...)
Fortunately, Chaeryeong wakes up breathing and full of bad ideas. Plus, it's Ryujin’s birthday, which can only mean one thing: the bar.
After being coerced by Yeji, Chaeryeong puts on makeup, a style that makes her look like a rockstar—honestly, she just asked Yeji to smoke her eyes and chose the darkest shade of red lipstick available. Her brain tells Chaeryeong that she's only going out like that because Ryujin declared her love for that type of makeup, but she dismisses the thought and orders her head to shut up.
“Ready?” Yeji asks, looking at both of them in the mirror. Chaeryeong nods.
While they walk to the bar, a part of Chaeryeong soothes her, saying it's okay to be stupid and that's the fun thing about being young. Another part of Chaeryeong calls her a disgusting bitch because oh my God, what is wrong with her and what point is she trying to prove going out like that.
Thankfully, they arrive at the bar before Chaeryeong could deeply ponder about it.
“Hey!” Ryujin comes to her direction immediately. Shamelessly, she wraps her arms around Chaeryeong's waist and squeezes their bodies together. “Thanks for coming,” she whispers.
Chaeryeong scoffs, determined to play hard. “Be careful, your girlfriend might think—”
“Shut up,” Ryujin says harshly. She disconnects them and stares at Chaeryeong as firm as she possibly can, which is not much. “Don’t say a word and be nice, it's my birthday.”
Chaeryeong shuts her lips together for short seconds, stopping mean words from falling out of her mouth. Then, she smiles, trying her best to look coyly and charming. “Okay. I'll buy you something pretty.”
“Thanks.” Ryujin analyzes her face, spending precious milliseconds on every inch of skin and stopping when she finally lands on Chaeryeong's smokey eyes. “You look beautiful.”
“I know.”
The party goes on.
In moments like that, Chaeryeong gets reminded of how charismatic Ryujin can be. Classmates, old highschool’s friends, probably every girl she ever dated too, since no one is crazy enough to let Ryujin go. Even if it's just for twenty minutes, a dear person comes only to wish happy birthday, including one of Ryujin's cousins. He's around their age, a little older if Chaeryeong knows how to count correctly. She flirts with him just to be petty, he flirts back because why not.
At some point, she notices Ryujin staring and a giggle burbles inside her Chaeryeong’s chest. A handsome man poses in front of Chaeryeong and she can only see her best friend, who's on the other side of the room, receiving attention from at least ten people, including her girlfriend, but she only looks at Chaeryeong, furtively taking glances when she thinks no one will notice—Chaeryeong does.
That's everything she wanted from the moment she opened her eyes today.
“Do you mind waiting a little bit?”
He obviously minds it, but nods.
Chaeryeong struttes to the bathroom, gazing at Ryujin while she does it. Her friend both avoids staring and gaps at her, eyes sparkling with distress and one more little thing.
Not even one minute later, Ryujin bolts through the door, slamming it shut behind her. Ryujin closes the locker while staring predaciously at Chaeryeong and she needs to stop a particularly indecent picture from spamming her brain.
“What?” Chaeryeong asks, faking confusion. She knows damn well.
Ryujin tromps in her direction, almost stamping on her feet. Ryujin’s heavy breath kiss Chaeryeong's collarbone and that might succumb her to insanity.
“What? I’ll tell you what, I know what you're doing.” Ryujin snorts. “You're so... you.”
Chaeryeong arches her eyebrows and takes one step forward, positioning herself less than five centimeters away from her best friend. “And that would be?”
Ryujin huffs, the smell of alcohol striking Chaeryeong’s nose. “You know it.”
A thought crosses her mind, like a snake constricting her brain and hissing a poisonous idea into her head. Ryujin, as always, is right about Chaeryeong: she knows exactly what she’s doing. She tried to ignore it by pretending Ryujin didn't exist, but after scheming Minjeong into her life again, Chaeryeong felt obligated to see it.
Now, it's right in front of her. Ryujin. They are completely alone, a muffled song being the only sign there's human life outside the door.
And, the worst of all things: they are so drunk.
Chaeryeong moves first. Her hands bind Ryujin’s waist, drawing their bodies closer and gluing them by the hips.
It's different from their first kiss.
This one feels messy, full of hunger and flavors. Chaeryeong tastes the whiskey creeping in Ryujin’s tongue and the strawberry flavored lip gloss glistering her mouth. Ryujin slips hot coal hands inside Chaeryeong’s shirt, pressing deft fingers against her flesh and swallowing the low sigh that leaves Chaeryeong's mouth. She's about to mimick her friend and venture a finger inside Ryujin's shirt, but the doorknob moves up and down rapidly and they disengage abruptly.
Chaeryeong can hear what Ryujin thinks, and it doesn't sound good. As if to confirm her superstitions, Ryujin brings both hands to her hair and grabs onto it, rattling words in an unintelligible velocity.
“Hello?” Jisu’s voice resonates outside. She knocks gently, which Chaeryeong appreciates.
“We’re here!”
Ryujin glares at her. “Why did you tell her?!”
“Calm down.” Chaeryeong says, trying her best to sound reassuring instead of harsh. “Just be cool.”
Three girls greet Chaeryeong with smiles and a confused glint.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“Taking pics,” Chaeryeong says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You guys want to come?”
They blithely agree.
Ryujin waits for the arrangement time to end and squeezes herself between Yeji and Jisu, trying her best to curve her lips in a grin instead of a troubled smile. It doesn't work, poor girl.
Morality starts to break into Chaeryeong's mind too. She started this whole Minjeong thing for a lot of reasons, but one of the main ones was to not mess up her relationship with Ryujin. Then she woke up today and decided that's what she wants to do. The two parts of her from earlier, the one that called her disgusting and the one that consoled her, both agree she must get a therapist.
The three girls divide themselves into the cabins, talking while using the bathroom. Chaeryeong takes advantage of the moment and cages Ryujin’s wrist inside her hand.
“I’m sorry, really,” she mutters. “You’re dating, I should’ve stayed at home.”
This time, Chaeryeong understands that popular saying. Ryujin’s eyes show her everything she needs to know. It shows anger and disappointment. Chaeryeong would rather be cut into small pieces and served as a soup instead of looking at Ryujin.
“I can't believe you're actually doing this.”
Her gravelly voice clashes with the sound of Yuna's high pitched laughter coming from the middle cabin.
“Let's not do this here.”
“Do you think I'm a joke?” Ryujin advances, almost standing as close as they were while kissing. “You kissed me after I got a girlfriend? After I kissed—”
Yeji leaves first, smiling brightly at something Jisu said, and Ryujin flies away from her, pretending to be amused by something on her shoe. Their friends amble through the bathroom, clueless of what happened before their presence graced the room.
“You guys coming?” Jisu asks, holding the door.
Both girls shake their heads.
What comes next it's a awkward moment full of silence and repressed tension.
“What you want from me?” The look on her face stabs Chaeryeong’s chest, tearing it apart. Ryujin’s anger dissolved into a mix of sadness and confusion, a combination that doesn't match her usual joyful energy.
To her surprise, Chaeryeong doesn't know what to answer. Sure, she knows what she wants, but it's morally ambiguous and a big risk to take.
“Look, I’m sorry for kissing you and—”
The floor runs away from her feet as Ryujin clashes their mouths together in a tender connection. Chaeryeong turns into a statue and, even though Ryujin’s thumb strokes her cheeks, she can't bring herself to move. Her heart shows her a million reasons to correspond and tell Ryujin about how she brings colors to Chaeryeong's dull life, to change things forever between them and throw away all her efforts to evict bad consequences.
But she remains as a statue.
“Chaeryeong,” Ryujin whispers against her mouth, honeyed eyes locked on Chaeryeong's orbs, “you don't know for how long I've been waiting for this.”
“Uh— what do you mean?”
Ryujin tucks Chaeryeong’s hair behind her ear and steps back. She looks sober and serious now. “If you tell me what you want from this, I'll break up with Minjeong.”
Oh.
Ryujin offers her a chance. After everything Chaeryeong did to her, ghosting and ignoring her signs for the sake of their friendship, Ryujin just asked Chaeryeong if she's willing to take the risk.
That's too much.
“Ryujin, I—” Chaeryeong stammers, staggering back a step and hitting her back against the counter. “Sorry, I… I don't know what to say. I—”
“What?” Her best friend's face transfigures into an expression Chaeryeong has never seen before, sad and confused at the same time. “You just kissed me and you don't know what to say?”
Chaeryeong keeps her mouth shut while Ryujin prowls in her direction, eyes shining with tears. She stops only when every inch of her body clashes against Chaeryeong.
“I spent months going after you and when I finally decide to move on, you decide it's time to confuse me again and— and you made me date Minjeong again!” Her chest moves up and down, a drop of sweat marking her cheek. “You’re so fucking selfish, Chaeryeong. You just want someone to boost your ego. And of all people, you choose me.”
The words cut through Chaeryeong's skin and stubborn tears roll over her face, it stains the pretty makeup Yeji insisted on putting on.
“I can't ask you to break up with Minjeong,” Chaeryeong whispers, running away from Ryujin’s glare.
The same gentle hand that cradled Chaeryeong's cheeks minutes ago, now cages her chin inside a firm grip, not strong enough to hurt, just to force her to look into those deep chocolate pools. “If you ask me… If you ask, it's done.” Ryujin states. “So?”
Two possibilities are simultaneously projected on her mind. The first, naturally, explores what would happen if Chaeryeong tells Ryujin keep her relationship with Minjeong, and it basically consists of Chaeryeong keeping her distance, interacting with Ryujin only when allowed or when her perfect girlfriend stands by her side, grabbing her ex-best friend's waist as if to say “could've been you.” The second one examines what would happen if she tells Ryujin to break up, and… and it starts happily. They go on dates, Ryujin brings her to a home full of people she already knows and likes, they finally visit that stupidly romantic restaurant and tell the waiter yeah, we're fucking dating now and kiss and kiss more and— oops, Chaeryeong accidentally undresses them on her mind. Okay, now back to the normal permutation of possibilities. It only starts happy, like every other relationship she had. Then, Chaeryeong starts to act stubborn about silly things and she doesn't remember her partner's boundaries and, the worst of all, the ick gets to her and Chaeryeong must break up otherwise she will die.
The likelihood of all of this happening to Ryujin, her dear Ryujin. Oh, Lord. Chaeryeong just can't.
“No, I won't ask you to do something like that.” She pushes Ryujin strong enough to squeeze herself out of the grip, but weak enough to not hurt. Her best friend remains silent, gazing at nothing in particular, although a disappointed glint decorates her eyes.
Chaeryeong leaves the party earlier than expected without talking to her friends. The stroll back to the dorm feels like a walk of shame—which happened to her already—but worse. Chaeryeong also can't believe herself. Shin Ryujin, her best friend, the person she loves the most in the world, offered her a chance.
And she denied it.
“Fuck!” She kicks a trash can on the sidewalk, managing to bring it down. Chaeryeong instantly regrets it because now, not only she's a wimp person, she's also the environment's enemy now.
She keeps walking, swinging and feeling like a child—in a bad way. Chaeryeong officially wins the title of worst person to ever exist. Her victory speech includes thanking her parents, for educating her to be the most prevention-focused individual, and Ryujin, for kissing her to watch a movie for free and awakening ignored sensations.
Shortly after, she's face to face with the mirror in her dorm again. Chaeryeong stares back at her own reflection and captures how broken she looks. Tears stained the smokey effect and her lipstick got messy after kissing Ryujin.
Her lips are still warm and she closes her eyes, feeling the ghost of Ryujin’s tongue inside her mouth. She chases all of it. The hotness from sharing a yearned kiss with the person she's in love with, the gentle stroke on her cheek, the mix of alcohol and strawberry aftertaste, the eyes staring at her with mutual desire.
Chaeryeong decides to sleep the night away. The beer and the smell of sweat blended with Ryujin’s perfume tuck her in.
(...)
Ryujin ghosts her.
Officially, Chaeryeong experiences what she did to Ryujin, but her best friend apparently decides playing cupid isn't a good solution.
Yeji constantly asks her what happened and why she doesn't hang out with them anymore, Chaeryeong usually repeats her boring repertoire—“I’m just tired, thanks for asking”—over and over again until Yeji decides she's done trying for the night. Jisu constantly visits and asks her if it's a good time to watch a movie or drama, but it’s never a good time.
Then, one day, while Chaeryeong tries to understand the same line she's been staring at for the past twenty minutes, someone knocks at her door, weakly.
She expects to open it and be greeted with a surprise kiss from Ryujin, a commitment ring and an apology—she must yet figure out why Ryujin would apologize but, inside her mind, Chaeryeong can pretend she's never wrong.
“Hey!” Of course, Ryujin isn't the one on the other side of the door. Instead, Yuna greets her with a smile. “Summer break is coming!”
Chaeryeong nods. “Okay?”
“I mean… we're planning a trip, you're invited.” Yuna looks at her shoe, running away from Chaeryeong’s gaze. “I know you and Ryujin are… weird, these days, but—”
“I’m not going,” Chaeryeong interrupts. “I’m taking summer classes.”
“You’re not!” Yuna crosses her arms. “Yeji told me you were going back home!”
“I changed my mind.”
Yuna slams her hand on the door, preventing Chaeryeong from closing it. “Please!” Yuna whispers, “We all miss you.”
Chaeryeong breathes heavily. “Ryujin… Is Ryujin going?”
The greatest yapper Chaeryeong had the displeasure of knowing grows suspiciously silent after her question. Yuna's eyebrows twitch and her mouth opens twice before coming out with an answer.
“I think she said something about visiting Minjeong’s family.”
Oh.
If she's lying or not, Chaeryeong can't tell. Something about this trip and Ryujin’s presence feels foreboding, but Chaeryeong can't quite place her finger on what causes her skin to crawl.
“I’ll think about it.”
(...)
Yuna must be a chronic liar.
That’s why Chaeryeong, two and a half days after summer break began, sees herself inside an old blue car that certainly doesn't have enough space for five girls.
Exactly, five.
“Can you switch the playlist?” She pleads to Yeji. “Please?”
Chaeryeong heard a lot of Luke Hemmings voice over the years but, right now, if she hears one more time about a lipstick stain being a work of art, she will crash that damn car.
“You get to make the playlist when learn how to drive.”
“That’s unfair,” Chaeryeong hisses.
The reason she never learnt how to drive, like most things about her life, involves Ryujin. Her best friend used to drive them around, which never made Chaeryeong urge for a driver's license. The blame lies entirely with Ryujin, she concludes.
Speaking of the devil, Ryujin stops the car at a gas station, which means it's time to refill their snacks supplies and use the bathroom.
Chaeryeong should have known better.
She takes her time using the bathroom and, when she comes back, the only seat available is the middle one.
Nobody likes to sit in the middle.
And now, Ryujin makes herself pliant on the left seat, spreading her legs and melting against the cushion.
Yuna deviously smiles at Chaeryeong. “I’m not moving”, she whispers and closes her eyes shut, humming to whatever song blasts on her earphones.
“At least help me get in?” Yuna ignores her. “Fine.”
And that's how Chaeryeong ends up side by side with Ryujin. Her best friend acts like she's not even there, although basically every inch of Chaeryeong's skin bristles against Ryujin.
“Can you move?” She asks no one in particular, but gets no response.
Chaeryeong desperately needs other friends.
“We’re almost there,” Jisu replies from the driving seat.
After thirty minutes, Chaeryeong figures almost there means absolutely nothing. Her eyelids insist on closing, but her body sends electricity all over her when she tries to sleep. It gets worse when Yuna tangles one of her legs above Chaeryeong’s knee and Chaeryeong’s left side decides to turn into a swamp after being in contact with Ryujin’s skin for so long.
It's torture.
(...)
One hour later, they arrive at the hotel.
Yuna and Yeji self assign themselves for the duty of taking their baggage off the rented car while Jisu talks to the staff.
The hotel has a big sign with its name—Cerulean Sea—and almost everything is colored with light shades of blue. The front desk man stares at them and greets Jisu with a soft smile.
“Good to see you again,” she says and jumps into business.
Chaeryeong takes the opportunity to analyze the place. The Cerulean Sea is a lovely hotel, full of dim lights and soft colors—still following the same pattern of blue and white. There's an arch leading to a social area and a bar with a cute mixologist, but the drinks, resting behind a glass door, look expensive for a casual night. Apparently, the Cerulean Sea is famously known by couples for its romantic attractions. Gross.
She also analyzes Ryujin.
Her best friend—if they still are—leans into the archway, observing everything with child-like curiosity. When she lands her eyes on a particular whiskey, a glint of joy shines on her deep brown orbs. Chaeryeong can't help but gawk. Seeing her after a long time separated—not that much, but a lot for people who used to talk everyday—Ryujin seems to be prettier, the longing magnifying her beauty.
“What?” She asks. “There’s something on my face?”
“You slept on my shoulder.”
Ryujin briefly looks away, but recovers from whatever it is and glares. “I don't remember.”
“Okay.” Chaeryeong smiles.
While Jisu gets the key. The same plump man that needed a five minutes long explanation to understand why five young girls were willing to spend their days on a couple hangout, hands Chaeryeong a completely different activity flier from the one he gave Jisu.
“Where’s mine?” Ryujin asks beside her.
“Oh.” He grimaces, then looks at Jisu, hopeless. “Most people here are a couple, I just assumed…”
Oh, God.
“We’re not a couple.” It's quite funny how that didn't come from Chaeryeong's mouth.
“Sure. Let me get the right one, then.”
He rummages for something underneath their line of vision.
Yuna squeezes herself between both girls and wraps her arms around their shoulders. “Are you really best friends if there's no dating allegations?” She says, smiling smartly. Yeji almost chokes behind them while trying to suppress a laugh.
“Leave them alone,” Jisu says, but smiles. “Let’s swim.”
Despite her efforts to convince her friends otherwise, Chaeryeong ends up putting on her bikini only to be dragged to the pool area.
The sun burns her skin, Yeji and Yuna can't stop splashing water on her and Jisu restlessly tells her to jump in and swim. On another occasion, Ryujin would probably drag the sun chair she lies on and throw Chaeryeong on the water. Chaeryeong finds herself aching for it. For her annoying best friend to do something to tell her they're okay.
But, of course, Ryujin has other plans. She lies perfectly still on a sun chair with eyes closed as the big star in the sky beams her with burning light.
“Ryujin,” Chaeryeong calls. If she mops for one more minute, she'll jump in the pool and drown. “Can we talk?”
The girl barely turns her head, eyes still closed behind the sunglasses. “Huh?”
“Can we… can we pretend that never happened?”
Ryujin takes off her glasses and glares. “Seriously? That's your solution?”
“Yeah?”
Ryujin snorts. “Fine.”
Anyone with eyes could tell nothing is fine. Chaeryeong needs another approach. Her brain, a professional maker of bad decisions, tells her to jump two sun chairs and lay closer to Ryujin. It also orders Chaeryeong to kiss her passionately, but she ignores that one.
“Ryujin,” she whispers and squeezes her hand. “I’m serious, we've been friends for so long,”
Finally, she gains the wanted attention. “If you say it doesn't mean anything to you.”
Chaeryeong flinches. “And what is that for?”
“Just say it and we'll be fine.”
It's a challenge, Chaeryeong realizes. “It didn't mean anything.”
Ryujin’s twists and straightens, a forced smile taking control of her lips. “Fine. We're friends again, then.”
Although she affirms it, Chaeryeong doubts they will be the same after everything. They kissed thrice, two of those contacts could be considered morally ambiguous. Nevertheless, kissing once is more than enough for best friends, doing it three times feels even more concrete.
Chaeryeong tries not to think of it for the rest of the day—but fails.
(...)
Her body screams for a bed and a relaxing night of sleep. Of course, that's not what the universe gives to her.
The hotel offers every meal, but Yuna insists on ordering pizza and that's their dinner for the first night. They talk about almost everything. Yeji tells them about an interesting project she's working on; a mechanical arm for surgeries, and Yuna admits to be seeing someone. Each of them tries to convince her to say who it is, but she replies with “I’m not telling you, it's bad luck,” every single time. Ryujin cracks a hilarious joke and time slips through Chaeryeong's finger as they laugh and talk and sing old songs from their teenagehood.
She feels such a complete sensation, like love fills her from inside out and hugs her slender figure from all sides. It might be the neat whiskey Ryujin bought at the bar when the pizza came, but Chaeryeong never felt happier in her whole life, and the incredible feeling only grows when Ryujin smiles at her and intertwines their fingers together. It seems like she didn't even notice, but Chaeryeong did. She stares at their connected hands for a long time, taking a mental picture of it.
God, she's doomed.
“Want to walk with me?” Jisu asks, smiling at her. Sometimes, her little friend resembles a mother, and Chaeryeong has no option but to do as Jisu says.
(...)
Ten minutes later, she wants to die.
Strolling in the sand seems enough to shake the whiskey off and the silly sensation dies slowly as they take lazy steps.
“I probably shouldn't tell you this,” Jisu says, not looking at her, but a serious expression decorates her face. “And I kinda understand you, really. All your fears and shit, but think about what I'll say and… just think about it.”
Chaeryeong agrees, her heart stumbling at its own beats. “What is it?”
“Ryujin broke up with Minjeong.”
Oh.
Oh.
Her legs turn into noodles as they take the final steps back into the hotel. Chaeryeong has so many questions. When did they break up? Why did Ryujin do this? What does it even mean? And, almost at the same importance level, does Jisu know about everything?
As if Jisu reads her thoughts, she points to the pool area and Chaeryeong watches an unmistakable silhouette observing the sea. Despite being slightly dark, Chaeryeong recognizes her. She would probably recognize her with closed eyes.
Jisu squeezes her hand. “I know I can't tell you what to do, but listen to yourself. You know what you want. Ryujin knows too.”
Chaeryeong nods and waits until Jisu leaves her sight to step forward, in Ryujin’s direction.
“Hey,” she murmurs, leaning against the railing.
Ryujin bumps their shoulders together, but barely looks at Chaeryeong.
The lighthouse blinks at her, far from the hotel and it looks tiny. The deep cerulean sea whispers for her, contrasting with the burbling from the pool. The trees also siss as the wind hisses through and Chaeryeong thinks they all talk to her.
The lighthouse blinks again.
“I know you broke up with Minjeong,” she says, careful. A wave crashes into the sand and it sounds like a scream instead of a whisper. Chaeryeong fears that wasn't the best option, but she never knows what the right thing might be. It's her undeniable charm.
Ryujin startles a sad chuckle. “Yeji told you?”
“I found out.”
“It was Jisu, then.”
Chaeryeong nods and they remain silent for a bit. She can hear Ryujin breathing, heavy and controlled, trying to tame a cry. Chaeryeong asks herself if Ryujin can listen to her throbbing heart.
“I’m gonna ask you this and, please, just be honest.” Chaeryeong already knows what it is. “Do you even like me?” Ryujin’s voice cracks and sharp knives tear Chaeryeong's heart apart.
The wind hisses stronger.
She could deny again, close the door behind them and what they could've been, never look back and forget about it in a year or two.
But, there's this silly thing: Ryujin broke up with the perfect girl for Chaeryeong. She risked everything Chaeryeong has been arduously trying to protect. Maybe everything she did in the name of prudence was just cowardice and, somehow, Ryujin found a way of turning everything Chaeryeong tried to complicate into a simple answer and, well, she needs to do her part of the job.
“I do,” she finally whispers.
Ryujin turns to look at her and Chaeryeong watches a lonely tear fall from her soft cheek and land on the wooden floor underneath them.
“Then— then prove it.”
They face each other now, and the lighthouse blinks rapidly at them—or maybe everything got faster and vivid. Another tear falls from Ryujin’s eyes and leaves an irregular wet path in her cheeks.
Another tide crashes and Chaeryeong knows she has to do it.
One of her hands cup Ryujin’s cheek, stroking away the tear path. Her best friend stays still as Chaeryeong leans closer, gluing their lips together in a tender peck.
One of Ryujin's tears fall again and, this time, rolls across Chaeryeong’s skin too. She chuckles into her mouth and Ryujin swallows the sound. She abnormally concentrates on Ryujin’s mouth, chasing the warmth of her soft lips and the slight taste of alcohol. Neither of them deepens the kiss, but it feels more intimate than anything.
Chaeryeong gives her two soft kisses before looking right into Ryujin’s deep brown eyes, trying to restrain her fears.
“As you can see, I didn't run away this time,” she jokes, mainly because Ryujin’s face can't lie when she wants to cry and if she does, Chaeryeong will start to cry too. But it works. She chuckles and her breath kisses Chaeryeong’s face. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Ryujin smiles, bringing her closer. “Let’s leave it all behind.”
Chaeryeong blithely agrees.