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'When I hold you close to me
I could always see a house by the ocean
Last night I could hear the waves’
Seulgi feels the salty air on her face, her eyes closed as she rests her body against the warm sand. The sea breeze brushes against her skin, tousling her hair, and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore fills the space in her mind, leaving her at peace.
She’s lying down, legs stretched out and arms extended at her sides, while the sun, already beginning to set, paints the sky in a golden, warm hue. Jaeyi, beside her, is also enjoying the calm, sitting on the towel, her face lit by the last rays of the day.
The ocean looks endless in front of them, its roar soft like a distant whisper inviting relaxation. Seagulls fly overhead, crossing the sky aimlessly, and Seulgi watches their movements with a slight smile.
She’s okay—truly okay.
Something about being there, together, in that vast and lively space, gives her a peace she can’t quite describe.
After a while, Jaeyi lies down beside her, letting the sun touch her skin too. Seulgi feels her nearness, like a constant, solid, and warm presence.
Jaeyi turns slightly toward her, looking at her with those dark, shining eyes that always carry a hint of mischief, as if she’s about to say something. The sound of the waves and the murmur of the wind seem to wrap them in a bubble of calm, but within that bubble there’s a spark of complicity, a connection that has never faded.
“This place is perfect,” Jaeyi says suddenly, breaking the silence with her soft voice, almost a whisper that competes with the sound of the sea. “Don’t you think?”
Seulgi nods slowly, without opening her eyes.
She feels the sun’s warmth growing softer as the day stretches on, and a bit of shade from the nearby palm trees begins to cool her skin. She doesn’t need to see Jaeyi to know she’s smiling. She can feel it.
“Mhm,” Seulgi replies in a calm voice, almost as if she were half asleep. “It’s perfect.”
Jaeyi leans toward her, gently touching her arm, and Seulgi turns slightly to look at her.
The light of the sunset highlights the shadows on her face, making her skin look even more golden. Jaeyi’s eyes shine, and that gaze—so warm and full of love—makes Seulgi feel closer to her, as if the space between them had vanished.
"I love you," Jaeyi whispers, and those words, though she’s said them many times before, sound sweeter under the calm of the sea. Seulgi feels her heart skip a beat when she hears them, as if it were the first time, even though she’s heard them hundreds of times.
Seulgi smiles gently, unhurriedly, letting those words settle in her chest. "I love you too," she replies with the same softness, and for a moment, they just stay there, looking at each other in silence, enjoying the calm and the closeness of one another.
It’s Jaeyi who breaks the moment, almost imperceptibly, moving her hand toward Seulgi’s and intertwining their fingers with a natural ease that makes everything feel like it’s exactly where it should be.
Seulgi feels the warmth of her skin, the gentle brush of her fingers, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still.
The sun is almost set, but the glow in the sky remains warm, tinting everything with a soft orange that makes the sea shimmer in golden hues.
Seulgi slowly sits up, rising from the sand, feeling the fine grains against her skin. Jaeyi follows without a word, and together they walk toward the shore, where the waves reach the sand at their feet.
The water is warm, refreshing, and Seulgi feels the tension in her body melt away as she steps in deeper, letting the water cover her ankles.
Jaeyi crouches down to pick something up from the sand, and Seulgi watches her closely. After a moment, Jaeyi approaches her with a shell in her hand, holding it delicately.
“Look how pretty it is,” she says, showing her the shell, her voice cheerful, like a child excited to have found something special.
Seulgi smiles and takes the shell with both hands, admiring its shape and smooth texture. She holds it for a moment before looking into Jaeyi’s eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” she replies with a warm smile.
Then, without warning, Jaeyi jumps into the water, laughing and splashing Seulgi, who freezes for a second, surprised.
Then Seulgi can’t help but laugh too, diving into the water to chase after Jaeyi. The night goes on, but they’re lost in their own world, jumping waves and laughing without a care.
Time seems to disappear as they lose themselves in the sea, in the sound of their laughter, and in the closeness of their bodies soaked with saltwater.
Seulgi feels free, as if nothing else matters, as if the entire world has been reduced to that moment with Jaeyi.
And when they finally take a break, lying on the sand once again, they both gaze up at the stars beginning to appear in the sky.
Jaeyi, with a relaxed smile on her face, rests her head on Seulgi’s chest, and they stay there, saying nothing, just enjoying the stillness of the night.
“I think I never want this day to end,” Jaeyi says softly, as if sharing a private, intimate thought.
Seulgi strokes her hair, feeling the softness of her damp strands and smiling silently.
“Me neither,” she murmurs.
In her heart, forever, Seulgi thinks, as she watches the stars beginning to shine brightly in the night sky. Each sparkle seems to tell a story—a story where the two of them are the main characters—and Seulgi feels at peace.
The sound of the sea, like a constant melody in the background, accompanies her thoughts, wrapping her in a sense of calm that reaches deep within her.
Jaeyi, still resting her head on Seulgi’s chest, shifts a little and raises a hand, pointing toward the sky.
“See that star?” Jaeyi asks with a softness that makes Seulgi shiver slightly. “It’s the brightest one. I’ve always wanted to know its name.”
Seulgi follows the direction Jaeyi is pointing, fixing her gaze on the solitary star that shines so brightly, as if defying the darkness. The contrast between the black sky and that pure light makes her think about life, about everything she’s been through to get to this point—this exact moment.
And, of course, about Jaeyi.
“And what does it say to you?” Seulgi asks gently, almost in a whisper, as she slowly caresses Jaeyi’s skin, her arm resting beside her.
Jaeyi stays silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the sky, as if she’s searching for something beyond the stars. Her face, lit by the soft glow of the moon, holds a calm, almost thoughtful expression.
And when she finally answers, her voice carries something Seulgi can’t quite identify.
“That I’ll always be here,” Jaeyi says, with a certainty that leaves her speechless. “That no matter what happens, there will always be something bigger that connects us. Like that star. Even if we don’t always see it, it’s always there, shining.”
Jaeyi’s words wash over her like a wave, so deep that Seulgi can’t help the small smile that appears on her face.
The world keeps turning around them, but in this moment, in this secluded corner of everything, with the cool breeze brushing her skin and the sea whispering in her ears, the universe seems to pause just for them.
“Always here,” Seulgi repeats softly, as if those words have the power to calm every insecurity, to undo every doubt she’s ever had.
And maybe, just maybe, what Jaeyi says is true. Maybe what they feel will never go away. Maybe, like that star, what they have will always shine—even if they can’t always see it clearly.
Jaeyi lifts her head from Seulgi’s chest and looks at her with those dark eyes that make her feel completely seen. Her eyes still have that familiar spark, but there’s something different in her gaze this time.
Something soft, deep, filled with love and understanding.
“Seulgi,” she murmurs, not taking her eyes off her face. “What we have… it’s one of a kind, right?”
Seulgi feels a knot in her stomach, but it’s a warm knot, full of emotions she doesn’t know how to put into words. There are no words that could fully describe what she feels in that moment, but she knows Jaeyi is right.
What they have, what they’re building, is something special—something that goes beyond everyday moments and becomes eternal. A connection so deep that neither time nor distance could ever erase it.
“It’s one of a kind,” Seulgi finally replies, her voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to break the magic of the moment. “And I never want it to end.”
Jaeyi smiles—that smile Seulgi loves so much—and before either of them can think, she leans in slowly, capturing her lips in a gentle, meaningful kiss.
It’s a calm kiss, yet full of promises—of everything they’ve shared and everything still waiting for them.
The waves continue crashing on the shore, the perfect backdrop to that small act of love, and Seulgi feels her heart beating faster, in sync with the kiss, in sync with their connection.
When they finally pull away, they stay silent, breathing deeply, their foreheads resting softly against each other’s, their breaths intertwined. The world keeps turning, but for a second, it doesn’t matter.
Because, in that moment, there is nothing else but the two of them, the sand beneath them, and the stars above their heads.
Jaeyi lies back down on the sand, gazing up at the stars. “You know?” she says, with a tone that’s melancholic yet full of love. “When I was little, I used to look at the sky and think that one day I’d find someone to share it with. I never knew what it would be like, but I always thought it would feel… magical.”
Seulgi watches her in silence, a wave of affection washing over her. “And now that you’ve found me, what do you think?” she asks, her voice playful but filled with tenderness.
Jaeyi turns her head toward her, her eyes shining with a mischievous spark. “That what we’re living right now surpasses everything I ever imagined.”
Seulgi smiles—a soft, deeply emotional smile. It’s the most genuine smile she’s given in a long time. She knows it too—that right now, they’re sharing something that goes beyond words. Something that doesn’t need to be explained, only felt.
The hours keep passing as they stay on the beach, lying on the sand, embraced by the calmness of the sea. The night sky grows darker, but the stars continue to shine brightly, as if the universe were smiling just for them.
Seulgi doesn’t know how much time has passed. It could’ve been minutes or hours, but in that moment, time has stopped for them.
It doesn’t matter.
The only thing that matters is that they’re together, in this place that feels like a refuge, and that the love they share is as immense as the ocean before them.
Finally, the night grows colder, and the stars in the sky seem to multiply, as if they want to witness this unique love that only the two of them can understand.
The sea continues to break gently, like a lullaby, as the two cuddle closer together, their bodies intertwined beneath the blanket of stars stretched above them.
The night air is cool, with the ocean breeze softly caressing their faces, but the warmth of their closeness makes it bearable—even pleasant. Jaeyi feels Seulgi’s calm breathing against her neck, and her presence gives her a sense of safety she can’t quite describe.
It’s as if the world, with all its problems and hardships, has vanished in this very moment. Only the two of them exist, the sea, and that endless sky full of stars.
Jaeyi looks up at the sky, her finger unintentionally pointing at the constellations that slowly reveal themselves as the night deepens. “Look,” she whispers, a peculiar light in her eyes, “that’s the Orion constellation. According to Greek mythology, Orion was such a great hunter that even after his death, his figure remained etched in the sky.”
Seulgi follows her gaze, searching for the stars that form Orion’s figure—stretching across the distance as if still hunting, perhaps foreshadowing something yet to come.
It’s a story that had always interested her, though she’d never given it much thought.
But tonight, under the starlit sky, Jaeyi’s words echo in her mind.
“And what about him?” Seulgi asks, feeling that somehow, Orion’s story might mirror something in their own.
Something so strong it can’t be taken away, something that remains—even after death.
Jaeyi smiles softly, with a melancholic tone, as if the stars were speaking to her in an ancient language. “In one version, Orion is placed in the sky by Zeus, after dying at the hands of a scorpion sent by Artemis. But the interesting part is that even though he dies, he never leaves the stars. He remains there, like an eternal memory.”
Seulgi watches her in silence, a strange tenderness washing over her. The fact that Jaeyi can recite that story with such passion makes her feel even more connected to her, as if time and circumstances could never tear them apart.
Maybe, in some way, what they were building—their love—was also something that would never fade. Something that would be written in the sky, like Orion, forever.
“That’s… beautiful,” Seulgi murmurs, gently stroking Jaeyi’s hand resting on her stomach. “It’s like, no matter what, we’ll always be here.”
Jaeyi slowly turns her head to look at her, her eyes shining in the dark with a glow that could only be described as celestial. “Exactly,” she whispers, and Seulgi feels as though she’s receiving a revelation of something far greater than herself.
As if the love they shared wasn’t just theirs—but something destined to exist, written in the stars since the beginning of time.
Then, with a softness that almost hurts, Jaeyi points to another cluster of stars. “And over there is Cassiopeia,” she says, “the queen who, according to Greek mythology, boasted about being more beautiful than the Nereids, the daughters of the sea. As punishment for her arrogance, she was condemned to always be in the sky—but in a way that makes it look like she can never rest. She’s always turning, always in motion.”
Seulgi feels drawn to the story, intrigued by the figure of Cassiopeia—who, despite everything, seems to hold unbreakable strength. “Like a warning?” she asks, feeling there’s something in the tale that resonates with the struggle every couple has to face.
The constant need to evolve, to stay strong despite everything.
Jaeyi nods slowly, her voice staying low as she lets herself be wrapped in the mystique of the sky. “Maybe. But it’s also a reminder that even in our imperfections, even in our darkest moments, we’re part of something bigger. The universe doesn’t stop turning, Seulgi. And maybe, just maybe, what we’re living right now is part of that too.”
Seulgi stays silent, looking at the stars once more—but this time with a deeper understanding, as if the entire universe were within reach.
She feels time stretch, as though the cosmos has aligned just so they could be here, in this moment, together.
The sea whispers its constant song, the stars watch over them, and for the first time, Seulgi understands that everything has a purpose. The two of them, the love they share, the connection that binds them—it’s all part of a greater cycle, a fate that has led them here.
They snuggle even closer, their bodies intertwined, and the warmth of their skin blends with the coolness of the ocean breeze. Jaeyi, silently, nestles closer to Seulgi, letting their hair tangle together, creating an intangible bond that goes beyond any words.
As their breathing slows, Seulgi feels as though the stars are witnessing something far deeper than themselves.
As if, in that moment, the fate of their lives had been sealed under that sky filled with myths, legends, and constellations. She knows that every star shining above isn’t just a light—it’s a symbol of everything they’ve lived through and everything they will.
“Jaeyi…” Seulgi says softly, barely a whisper. “I think I’m always going to remember this moment. Always.”
Jaeyi smiles, turning her head to kiss her gently on the cheek. “I know,” she replies, her voice full of a sweetness that makes Seulgi feel like she’s floating. “And I’ll remember it too.”
Jaeyi’s words fall into the air, soft, like a distant echo that fades into the vastness of the sea.
Seulgi doesn’t respond right away, letting that “I’ll remember it too” linger between them, as if it were an unspoken promise—but one completely understood.
A silent vow that, no matter the time, no matter the distance, there will always be something that connects them—something that can never fade.
They’re both still now, but the feeling of being together seems to stretch beyond the limits of the body. The warmth of their intertwined hands is more comforting than the heat of the midday sun; the gentle touch of their skin, the closeness so intimate that words are no longer necessary.
Jaeyi takes a deep breath, and Seulgi feels each exhale as if she were absorbing it into her own body, as if their breathing had become one.
Jaeyi snuggles even closer, her face tucked into Seulgi’s neck, inhaling her scent—something between vanilla and the sea. And though there isn’t a specific thought behind the gesture, it feels right.
It feels…right.
The beats of their hearts sync, as if both bodies have found their natural rhythm—one that is shared, one that can no longer be separated.
The wind blows a little stronger, and the warm sand beneath them gradually cools with the falling night. The waves break gently, leaving behind a constant murmur that seems to lull the soul, like a melody that never ends.
Jaeyi, still with her face tucked into Seulgi’s neck, raises a hand and begins tracing small circles on the exposed skin of her arm—an almost automatic gesture, but filled with something deeper.
“Do you remember the first day we met?” Jaeyi asks, her voice soft, almost a whisper, as if she doesn’t want to break the stillness surrounding them.
Seulgi takes a moment to respond, her mind quickly traveling back to that first encounter, that moment so full of uncertainty and tension.
She remembers the way their eyes met for the first time, how everything seemed possible, and at the same time, how everything was filled with doubt.
“Yes,” she finally says, smiling at the memory of how tense she had been. “I was so nervous, I thought I wouldn’t be able to talk to you. You... you were so different from everyone I’d ever known.”
Jaeyi lifts her head, looking at her now with an intense yet gentle gaze, as if searching for something in Seulgi’s face. “Different? How so?”
Seulgi stays silent for a moment, searching for the right words.
She doesn’t want to give a superficial answer, because she knows that what she truly felt in that moment was much deeper—something she couldn’t easily describe.
But Jaeyi has always had that ability—that way of making her feel that the unspoken matters too, that the words that can’t be found are just as meaningful as the ones said aloud.
“Different,” Seulgi repeats, taking a breath, “because it was like you didn’t belong to this world. Like you were a shooting star that had fallen from the sky and was here just for a moment, but not to stay. And I… I didn’t know how to handle that. I felt so small.”
Jaeyi watches her in silence for a moment, and in her gaze, Seulgi sees something she can’t quite identify—something like a deep, wordless understanding.
As if Jaeyi had also been aware of that feeling. As if she, too, had felt that disconnection, that impossibility of fitting into what the world expects.
“I understand you,” Jaeyi says finally, in a voice so soft it almost sounds like she’s speaking to her own soul. “Because I felt the same. Like I was lost, like I wasn’t in the right place. Until you came along.”
Seulgi looks at her, surprised, but there’s something in the way Jaeyi gazes back that tells her she’s not saying this just to make her feel better. Jaeyi, as always, is being honest—and that’s what Seulgi loves most about her: that kind of transparency that doesn’t need embellishments or explanations.
“And now… do you feel different?” Jaeyi asks, as if the answer to that question holds a key they both need to find.
“Yes,” Seulgi replies with a certainty that scares her a little. “Now, I feel like… it doesn’t matter so much where I am, because as long as I’m with you, everything will be okay. You’re like… my safe place.”
Jaeyi smiles softly, and for a moment, the whole world seems to fade away. The stars, the waves, the breeze. Everything narrows down to that perfect instant, to that space where only the two of them exist, and all that truly matters is what they share.
The way they look at each other, the way they understand one another without words, the way their hearts beat in sync.
“I feel the same way about you,” Jaeyi murmurs, almost like a sigh. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How something so simple can change everything.”
Seulgi nods, her head resting back on the blanket, her body stretched out but still touching Jaeyi, as if she couldn’t bear to be apart from her.
The sky remains a tapestry of stars, but now Seulgi sees them differently, as if each one shines with a light that speaks of shared stories, of moments lived, of everything that’s yet to come.
“Maybe this is what we always needed,” Seulgi says, more to herself than to Jaeyi. “Maybe we just needed to find each other.”
“I think so,” Jaeyi replies, her tone carrying a quiet kind of wisdom. “Because some things are simply meant to happen, no matter how long it takes.”
Seulgi looks at Jaeyi, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and something much deeper—something only truly understood through experience. She feels like her life won’t ever be the same after tonight, after this moment, after everything they’ve shared.
“What we have… it’s unique,” she says, without even thinking too much about it.
Jaeyi looks back at her, her eyes holding that same intensity she’s always had, but now with a sweetness that only Seulgi has the power to see.
“And that’s what makes it perfect,” she answers, without hesitation.
They both stay there, gazing at the sky, feeling the sea beneath them, the air around them, time passing, but without really caring. Because the only thing that truly matters now is this moment, this love they’ve found, this bond that keeps them together, under the stars, under the silence of the sea.
“I’ll always remember this, Seulgi,” Jaeyi says, gently squeezing her hand, letting the silence speak for itself.
It’s not an uncomfortable silence, nor one that begs to be broken.
It’s a silence that shelters, that wraps around them like a warm blanket on a cool night, one that only those who know each other deeply, who have learned to listen even to what isn’t said, can share.
Seulgi lowers her gaze to their intertwined fingers and smiles faintly, without anyone watching, as if that simple gesture is holding her up, keeping her steady even in the face of all that’s uncertain.
The sea breeze brings the scent of salt and seaweed, carrying with it the echo of distant laughter and the cry of a seagull crossing the sky. But they are in their bubble, in their little shared universe, lying on a faded blanket under the sun, with bits of sand stuck to their skin and their hair slightly damp from the sea.
And all of that, the beautiful chaos of the day, is left behind.
Jaeyi adjusts her head on Seulgi’s shoulder. The contact is warm and familiar, as if Seulgi’s body is a home she learned to inhabit without instructions, simply letting herself be carried away.
“Have you ever wondered why people want so badly to catch the stars?” Jaeyi whispers, her gaze lost among the bright dots of the sky. “We can’t touch them, we can’t have them… and yet we keep looking up.”
Seulgi blinks, taking that question to her chest.
“I guess it’s because... they’re a promise of something bigger. Something eternal, right? Something that doesn’t fade easily.”
“I thought the same,” Jaeyi says, turning her face to look at her. “But then I met you. And I realized that some stars... yes, they can be touched.”
And Seulgi feels her chest tighten.
As if Jaeyi’s words are so delicate that, trying to respond with something equally beautiful, they would unravel. So she says nothing. She just looks at her, with that kind of gaze that doesn’t try to analyze, understand, or dissect anything.
Just to be there. To be present.
The starry sky, which once seemed distant and decorative, now carries weight.
Meaning.
Jaeyi raises a hand, pointing to a constellation.
“That’s Andromeda,” she says softly. “In mythology, she was chained to a rock, as a sacrifice to a sea monster. But Perseus saved her, remember?”
Seulgi nods slowly, although she doesn’t remember all the details. The story feels irrelevant compared to the way Jaeyi tells it.
“I always thought Andromeda was just a victim,” she continues. “But she was also a survivor. And then a queen. Sometimes I wonder if all of us, those who once felt trapped, chained... can also become queens. Free.”
Jaeyi’s voice carries that invisible edge of someone who has been through things.
Who has felt like both a rock and a monster, and finally, the sky.
Seulgi shifts a little closer to her, brushing the back of her hand with her knuckles. “You already are.”
“Are what?”
“A queen. A survivor. A constellation. All of that.”
Jaeyi closes her eyes for a moment, as if she wants to keep those words in a glass box. Then she opens them and looks at her.
“And what are you, Seulgi?”
She thinks. Looks at the sky. Feels the sand beneath her back. The salty taste on her lips. The light weight of Jaeyi on her shoulder. And she says:
“Your sea.”
Jaeyi blinks, surprised. “My sea?”
“It’s scary sometimes, right? It’s vast, it changes moods, it can’t be tamed. But it always returns to the shore. It’s always there. It never leaves.”
Jaeyi laughs softly, a laugh that sounds like a wave crashing on the shore. She leans towards Seulgi and kisses the tip of her nose, barely a touch, but full of nameless things.
“Then I’ll stay to live on the shore,” she says. “Right here.”
And nothing else needs to be said.
Because bodies speak when words rest. Because there’s a way the fingers intertwine that has no translation, a way the silences hold up without becoming heavy, as if every minute were suspended, hanging softly in the salty night air.
Jaeyi strokes Seulgi’s hand with her thumb, slowly, as if drawing her from memory, as if she wants to make sure that gesture is etched in her mind for when there’s no beach, no blanket, no stars.
And Seulgi lets her. She lets herself be looked at, touched, felt.
She lets herselfbe loved.
The sea continues to break on the shore with a rhythm that matches the shared breathing between them. It’s a distant lullaby that reminds of childhood, of endless summers, and days with no rush.
But also to the new, to what is built step by step. Because what they have now, this that doesn’t need labels, that cannot be explained or confined, is more real than any definition.
Jaeyi pulls away just slightly to look at her directly. The moonlight falls on her face, and there’s something in her eyes that shines brighter than all the constellations combined.
She doesn’t say anything. She just looks at her.
Seulgi blinks, a little overwhelmed. “What?”
“I’m trying to remember this moment,” Jaeyi says, with that calm voice, that cadence that always feels like it’s about to turn into a poem. “In case one day I need to come back to it.”
Seulgi smiles softly. “And what part do you want to remember?”
Jaeyi doesn’t hesitate.
“The warmth of your shoulder. Your voice. The smell of the sea mixed with your perfume. This exact silence. And how it feels not to be afraid of anything for a few minutes.”
Seulgi swallows. Her eyes begin to water without her fully noticing, as if tenderness could also be salty, as if it could move inside like a tide.
“We’re not going to forget it,” she says quietly. “I promise.”
Jaeyi nods and leans back against her. She closes her eyes. Seulgi wraps her arm around her, pulling her closer, holding her with everything she is.
They stay like that for who knows how long.
The clock no longer matters.
The world out there has blurred.
At some point, a colder gust of wind makes Jaeyi shiver slightly. Seulgi, without letting go of her, stretches a corner of the blanket over their legs.
“We can stay here until the sea decides to quiet down,” she murmurs.
“What if it never shuts up?” Jaeyi asks with a sleepy smile.
“Then we stay forever.”
And they say it as a joke, perhaps. But there’s something serious in that promise. In that silent surrender that doesn’t need further explanations.
Because they’re learning to love each other without pushing. To stay without holding back. To be home without walls.
The moon rises a little higher in the sky. The waves keep singing. The world, for one night, seems to be at peace.
And Seulgi, who has lived through gray days and lonely mornings, who thought maybe love wasn’t for her, who had convinced herself that it wasn’t necessary, now has Jaeyi asleep on her chest, with her breath soft, her brow relaxed, her heart beating alongside hers.
And for the first time in a long while, she doesn’t want to be anywhere else.
For the first time, she allows herself to imagine a future. Another summer. A promise fulfilled.
Because sometimes she thinks, as she closes her eyes too, love is not an explosion. Sometimes, it’s this.
A shared blanket.
An invented constellation.
And the exact warmth of the right person.