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“I hate it when you smoke, unnie.”
Seonghwa turned her head to see San standing there, her slight frame bundled up in one of Seonghwa’s thickest sweaters, legs otherwise bare, brown hair loose and messy around her shoulders. Her nose was all scrunched up in distaste, slightly red from the cold.
“I know,” Seonghwa replied, puffing out one last ring. It floated and dissipated, grey against the black sky. She stubbed it out obligingly, and only then did San cross the balcony to stand behind her—not too near the railing because she was scared of heights, and Seonghwa’s flat was dizzily high above Seoul’s glowing skyline.
San’s arms slipped around her waist, head drooping against Seonghwa’s back. Her hair tickled the back of Seonghwa’s neck. “Why are you awake this late?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Seonghwa said simply. She dropped the cigarette and lifted her hands to grip San’s where they were clasped around Seonghwa’s waist. Their fingers entwined, San’s shorter against Seonghwa’s own.
“Come to bed,” San said petulantly. Seonghwa could hear the pout in her voice.
She laughed. “But I’m not sleepy.”
“What if I made you sleepy?” San said suggestively.
Seonghwa arched an eyebrow, turning in the close circle of San’s arms to face the shorter woman. “And how would you do that exactly?”
San’s lips turned up in the same kitty-cat smirk that had made Seonghwa notice her that first day they’d met, in that little neighborhood. “Let me show you,” she purred, trailing her arms down Seonghwa’s waist and away, taking Seonghwa’s hand instead.
Seonghwa let San pull her out of the cold air and back into her heated apartment. San headed straight for Seonghwa’s bedroom. The bed was rumpled, sheets pushed around messily. San must’ve been sleeping before waking up to an empty bed—something she hated—and coming outside to find her.
San pushed Seonghwa down onto the bed and then dropped down onto her lap, straddling her. The sweater hiked up even more to show bare thighs.
Seonghwa’s eyes, naturally, were drawn to the movement. “You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”
San huffed. “Actually, unnie, I was sleeping naked. I only wore this to come get you.” She pushed at Seonghwa’s shoulder lightly. “Which you would’ve known if you’d stayed in bed. Instead of going out to smoke.” She made a face.
“Apologies,” Seonghwa said, smiling up at her. She dragged a hand up San’s leg, pulling the sweater up past the curve of her ass, trailing fingers up the smooth curve of San’s waist, the arch of her back. “Let me make it up to you?”
San sniffed imperiously. “Well. You can try.”
Seonghwa grinned.
San let out a high yelp as Seonghwa tipped them over. She landed flat on her back on the bed with Seonghwa hovering over her, hands still tight around San’s waist.
San’s sharp little teeth gleamed in the light shining through the window. “Well, hello.”
Seonghwa snorted. “You seem far too happy about this. Shouldn’t you sleep? Don’t you have a shift early tomorrow?”
“Who wouldn’t be happy about this?” San asked, like it was obvious. “Besides, shifts are temporary, orgasms are forever.”
“I am about two hundred percent sure that’s not how the saying goes,” Seonghwa muttered, but still she hiked the sweater up to San’s hips to leave her bottom half naked.
San shifted up the bed as Seonghwa wriggled down, leaving enough room for her to push San’s legs apart and settle herself between them. “I do love your pretty cunt,” she murmured, patting the mounds softly.
“Unnie!” San exclaimed, embarrassment clear in her voice.
“What?” Seonghwa protested. “It’s true! Wait, let me show my love for it. In great detail.”
Whatever San had been about to say was cut off when Seonghwa pressed her tongue to San’s clit.
Instead, she let out a broken sound as Seonghwa licked around it, probably still sensitive from earlier that evening, and sensitive in general like she always was. Seonghwa for her part was always, always enthusiastic when she got her face between San’s legs, and she always made sure to show it.
She slid a finger in once San was wet enough, too tired to go get lube. San probably wouldn’t be able to handle any more than two fingers tonight anyways.
So she focused on San’s red little clit, licking and sucking and rubbing around it as San’s hands tightened in her hair, tangling up the short strands. She pulled her fingers out to rub them against San’s clit, hard, and replaced them with her tongue. That was enough.
San let out a long, low moan, tightening around Seonghwa’s tongue as she came, making everything even wetter. Seonghwa was particular about licking it all up, San’s thighs trembling around her head.
“God, starflower,” San gasped once Seonghwa finally came up from air.
She grinned, propping her chin up on her hands to look at San panting on the pillows. “That must’ve been good, for you to call me that.”
“It was really fucking good,” San said emphatically. “God, your tongue.”
“I know,” Seonghwa said smugly. She rolled over San’s legs, ignoring the younger girl’s yelp, and pulled herself up the bed to lay next to San.
“What about you?” San asked.
“I’m fine. Too tired, really,” Seonghwa said, which was the truth.
“Tired enough to sleep?” San asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. The sweater slipped off a shoulder as she rolled onto her side to face Seonghwa.
“Tired enough to sleep,” Seonghwa confirmed, chuckling. She reached out a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind San’s ear. “And you should sleep too.”
“I was,” San said, pouting immediately. “But then you were gone.”
“I feel like I showed my remorse for that enough.”
San nodded quickly. “Believe me, you did. Sleep now?”
“Sleep now,” Seonghwa agreed. She pulled the blankets up, arranging them around herself and San. San snuggled into her, curling into Seonghwa’s long body. Seonghwa wrapped her arms around San in return, tucking the girl’s face into her neck.
San’s breathing evened out soon, but Seonghwa, despite being tired, couldn’t really fall asleep. She stared at San’s face, shadowed, but Seonghwa knew the features like they were her own by now.
Sannie, her Sannie, honey-sweet and softer than anything. She didn’t want to lose this. She couldn’t.
***
“You’re late,” Wooyoung sang as San rushed into the kitchen.
“I know,” she muttered, twisting her long hair into a bun atop her head. Yeosang dipped behind her to tie the apron around her waist.
“Got caught up with Seonghwa-noona?” Yeosang asked, and if it was anyone else San would’ve been fooled by the nonchalance in his tone.
But it was Yeosang, who San had known for years, and she could hear under that mock-innocence almost better than Wooyoung could by this point. So she spun, hands on her hips. “Shut up.”
Yeosang smirked. “You guys must have had a lot of fun.”
San glared harder.
Wooyoung cackled. “Did noona keep you up all night?”
He didn’t stop laughing even when San reached over and whacked his back.
They didn’t have much time to talk, however, because the morning rush began, and the only thing they could exchange after that was a quick commiserative look about a bad customer, or a delighted eyebrow wiggle at a particularly large tip.
It wasn’t that bad, though—certainly nothing like the dingy little diner they’d worked in during their college days—and even though San’s ankles were aching by the time her shift was over, she was smiling as she walked outside with the other two on either side of her.
“Seonghwa-noona must’ve fucked you well for you to be this happy,” Wooyoung muttered.
And there was that.
San rolled her eyes. “Hush, you.” It wasn’t that, to be perfectly honest. It was that she’d fallen asleep to fingers stroking through her hair, her entire body wrapped up in someone she was becoming dangerously fond of. That she’d fallen asleep to Seonghwa’s soft breathing in her ear, her warmth all around San, encompassing every bit of her.
“She makes you really happy,” Yeosang said quietly.
San glanced over at him. “I…yeah. She does,” she replied, equally soft.
There was a moment of silence. Then Wooyoung opened his mouth. “So you haven’t talked to her yet, have you?”
San made a face. “No.”
Wooyoung sighed. “You know you really should, right? This has been going on for so long now.”
“I know,” San sighed.
She remembered the first time she’d seen Seonghwa. It had been months and months ago, in front of her and Wooyoung’s and Yeosang’s little apartment. Yeosang had wanted Jongho to meet his friends for the first time, months after the two of them had started dating.
And then San and Wooyoung had gone downstairs to drop Yeosang to Jongho’s car. They’d been teasing Yeosang about spending the night with Jongho. But it turned out that one of Jongho’s friends had come to pick him up, on account of some emergency in their families.
Yeosang never did end up going home with Jongho that night, but San remembered seeing Seonghwa leaning against her sleek car, looking tall and lean and so out of place in their crap neighbourhood, her long lines and elegance the casual grace in her posture mesmerizing San instantly.
They’d met eyes, and exchanged greetings before Seonghwa and Jongho had to rush away, and perhaps that would’ve been it—
But it wasn’t.
Because soon after, Jongho had invited all of them over to his much more lavish apartment for dinner with his friends as well. That was where San had met Hongjoong—she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off their hair the entire evening—and Yunho and Mingi, now her eternal gaming partners.
And Seonghwa had been there too. All eight of them had hit it off remarkably well, but sometime during the night, after the wine had been opened, San had ended up sitting next to Seonghwa, and, well, they’d gotten closer and closer.
Seonghwa had taken her home that night.
The sheer luxury in Seonghwa’s apartment had nearly blown her mind—not more than Seonghwa had blown her mind that night—but she was almost used to it by now. She hadn’t thought that would happen, of course, back then.
But Yunho and Mingi invited her over for a game she’d wanted to try, and Hongjoong had called her over to dye her hair, just brown, nothing too crazy, and—she and Seonghwa had kept meeting. It was had been by chance every time, but they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other.
The best sex San had ever had turned to talking, and they…hadn’t stopped. It sounded absurd—elegant, pretty, rich Seonghwa with some waitress? Wooyoung and Yeosang liked to joke about her being a sugar baby, and it wasn’t entirely far from the truth, given that no matter how much San refused Seonghwa always managed to sneak her gifts. Expensive ones.
And still, they just hadn’t stopped.
Which was how they were here, so many months later, and Wooyoung and Yeosang both knew that Seonghwa had nestled herself irrevocably into San’s heart.
And it was all just casual.
That was what they’d said at the beginning, of course. Back when all this had started, back when they were just a chaebol and a waitress who spend their nights together. And now—San was too scared to ask if Seonghwa ever spent her nights with someone else, when she couldn’t with San.
She didn’t know what she’d do if Seonghwa said yes. She didn’t know what she’d do if Seonghwa said no.
“You’re going to break your own heart if you go on like this,” Yeosang murmured matter-of-factly.
“I know that too,” San said.
Wooyoung blew out a harsh breath and then threw a hand around her shoulder. “Well, whatever happens, we’re always here for you.”
San threw him a grateful smile. “I know. Thank you.”
“Okay, we’re done with Sannie. Yeosangie, your turn,” Wooyoung ordered. “How have things been going with the baby hunk?”
Yeosang blushed immediately. “They’ve been—nice. Really nice. It still almost doesn’t feel real.”
San smiled at him, unbearably happy for him. His and Jongho’s story was straight out of a fairy tale, with the way they’d met and the way Jongho had subsequently swept Yeosang off his feet. There was no one who deserved a fairy tale more than Yeosang did.
Sometimes he wished he and Seonghwa could’ve been like that. A simple romance. But they weren’t.
“Oh, about that, Jongho is asking if you two can come over tonight. Dinner. Just like that, he feels like he hasn’t seen you guys in a while. Mingi and Yunho will be there too. I’m not sure about Seonghwa-noona or Hongjoong-hyung, though.”
“I think I can make it,” San answered. “I get off work by six. Wooyoung does too, right?” She glanced over.
Wooyoung’s lips were pursed. “Yeah, but I was going to pick up another shift here.”
Yeosang sighed. “Wooyoung, don’t push yourself this much. You’re acting like Jongho.”
“What? How?” Wooyoung asked.
Yeosang made a face. “He’s being annoying. He keeps saying he’ll help pay for my surgery, even though I’ve told him like a million times that I don’t want him too. And you two shouldn’t either, to be honest.”
“We’re going to anyways,” San said stubbornly.
“Yeah, I mean, Jongho’s your boyfriend, sure, but I’m your soulmate!”
San coughed pointedly.
“We’re your soulmates,” Wooyoung amended. “No way are we going to let you grind all alone for that.”
Yeosang pressed his lips together. “Well—fine, but I’m not letting you work yourself into the ground for it. You’re coming to dinner tonight, and that’s final. Understood?”
Wooyoung pouted. “Understood.”
San smiled and linked elbows with both of them. “Good.”
They split up, Yeosang heading for some photoshoot, and Wooyoung and San to the studio to take classes. San loved teaching kids to dance, even though it didn’t necessarily pay as much as she’d like and she had to make up the difference by taking shifts at the restaurant. Well, all of them did, because apparently Yeosang hadn’t hit it big in the modelling world, which…San couldn’t really understand. Had none of them seen him?
The hours passed fast in the studio like they always did. While Wooyoung mostly taught the teenagers, San had the younger kids, and she felt like her heart was going to burst because of their adorableness every day.
She was dripping with sweat by the time the day was over, her hair soaked through. God. They were going to have to battle for the bathroom today.
Her prediction turned out true, because she and Wooyoung came home at the same time as Yeosang, who was caked in makeup, and then it was a mad dash for the single bathroom in their apartment.
Wooyoung won, because he bit people.
She and Yeosang were plopped on the floor, because they couldn’t get the sofa dirty, arms folded. “Cheater,” San grumbled.
Yeosang nodded, pouting angrily. “I’m going to spit in his coffee.”
San blinked at him. That was an escalation she hadn’t expected.
And then they had to race again when Wooyoung sauntered out of the bathroom, all smug and fresh-smelling.
Yeosang won.
“This really isn’t fair!” San shouted, knowing he could hear her through the door. “You know, I should’ve gone first! You already have a boyfriend, you have no one to impress! I’m not even dating Seonghwa-unnie yet!”
Wooyoung snickered.
San spun, pointing at him. “And you deserved to go last! You’re single! I have the most need to look good.”
Wooyoung scoffed. “You could show up in a trash bag and noona would still be all over you.”
“You’re just saying that,” San muttered, cheeks burning red.
Wooyoung rolled his eyes.
But then the door to the bathroom opened, and San booked it. “Yeosangie, what do I wear?” She yelled from inside.
“Anything!” Yeosang shouted back.
What a great help.
San pulled on a dress Seonghwa had given her, plaid and knee-length, sticking to her minimal curves. All she could manage to do was brush her hair, because Yeosang and Wooyoung were already shouting about how it was time to go and they were going to get late and look there was the car—
San slid into Mingi’s car, still glaring at them.
“What’s with the face, noona?” Jongho asked, grinning.
“They made me shower last and I didn’t even have enough time to get ready,” San complained.
Jongho laughed, reaching out as if to pat her head. San batted his hand away—she liked head pats normally, but her hair was already a mess. She couldn’t risk it getting worse. “Don’t worry, Seonghwa-noona still won’t be able to keep her eyes off you.”
“That’s what I said!” Wooyoung interjected.
San scowled at him and turned back to Jongho. “So is she coming?”
“Maybe,” Jongho said. “I think she might show up late, especially if you stay. Apparently Hongjoong-hyung’s Eomma wanted to set them up on a date so Seonghwa-noona is trying to save them. Not sure how that’s working out.”
San nodded, settling back in her seat as Jongho started the car. She was well aware that Seonghwa, though out and proud, sometimes acted as Hongjoong’s shield, on account of their mother not being very open-minded.
She would’ve been jealous if she hadn’t ever seen the two of them together. They were best friends, but nothing romantic. Probably wouldn’t be even if Seonghwa wasn’t a raging lesbian, and if Hongjoong wasn’t as into men as possible.
And it wasn’t as if San had any right to be upset over it, anyways. She and Seonghwa weren’t together.
The way chaebols lived would never cease to amaze her, she thought, as they stepped out of Jongho’s car. She saw Wooyoung gaping up at the high-rise apartment—he came here the least, so he was always adorably awed by it all. Yeosang seemed to be used to it by now, walking hand-in-hand with Jongho nonchalantly.
They were so sweet. It was lovely how Jongho made an effort to get to know her and Wooyoung because they were Yeosang’s best friends. Where Yeosang had found such a perfect man, San wasn’t sure, but she was so glad for her friend.
“It’s so fucking fancy,” Wooyoung said, taking San’s hand as they walked down the corridor, Jongho and Yeosang a way ahead of them.
“God, I know,” San whispered back.
“Noona’s place must be even worse.”
“It is,” San murmured, getting flashbacks to the first time she’d been in there, trying to keep still because she was certain that if she moved she’d break something and be in debt her entire life trying to pay for it.
“You lucky bitch,” Wooyoung said, nudging her side. “When am I going to get a hot sugar mommy?”
“You’re not pretty enough for one,” San said, grinning smugly.
Wooyoung made an offended noise and slapped her on the shoulder, hard.
“Ow!” San cried, jumping back. She slapped him back.
“Are you two children done?”
They both whipped to the front to see Yeosang staring back at them flatly, Jongho beside him looking amused. Jongho was holding the door open, so San hurried forward, ignoring Yeosang’s scolding gaze.
It wasn’t like the had to be on their best behavior in front of Jongho anymore. He’d seen them bicker way too many times to care by now, right?
In Jongho’s apartment, too, she had to be careful, even though she knew that Jongho would never be angry at her for breaking anything. They settled on the sofa to watch a movie while waiting for Mingi and Yunho to come in.
They finally did arrive, and San was so thankful Jongho wasn’t one of those stuck up rich people, because he didn’t mind them bringing their plates to his expensive sofa and eating right there in front of the TV. San was still careful not to spill, though, which was why she sat as far from Wooyoung as humanly possible.
“Are Hongjoong-hyung and Seonghwa-noona coming?” Mingi asked halfway through the movie, once they were all eating. It was magnificent. Jongho’s housekeeper was second only to Seonghwa’s housekeeper, but San was a bit biased. And Wooyoung, of course, because she’d be murdered for not thinking he was the best chef in existence.
Jongho checked his phone, face brightening. “Yeah, hyung texted me. They said they’ll be here in a while.”
Mingi nodded. “Good, good.”
San eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”
“No reason,” Mingi sang.
San narrowed her eyes even more.
“San-ah.” Yunho tapped her shoulder, making her attention turn to him. “Did you know Mingi beat your high score at Mario Kart yesterday?”
San gasped loudly, jerking back to Mingi, who looked unreasonably pleased with himself. “You did what?”
Mingi stuck his tongue out at her.
San folded her arms. “I’m coming over as soon as I can and I’m taking back my place as second-best gamer.”
Yunho chuckled. “Come on over whenever you like.”
San’s chest warmed. It was so sweet how Yunho and Mingi were so kind to all of them, even though they were only distantly acquainted through Jongho and Yeosang’s relationship. It was odd, but they’d quickly become some of the best friends San had ever had (not including Wooyoung or Yeosang, of course).
They spent a little while more talking until Hongjoong and Seonghwa finally rang the doorbell.
San sprang up from her seat and then caught herself, looking around to see everyone else giving her teasing looks.
“You can open the door,” Jongho said, gesturing with a hand.
“Go on. You know you want to,” Wooyoung snickered.
San blushed, shooting him a glare before heading to the door. The oldest two were dressed formally, Hongjoong in a black suit and tie, and Seonghwa beside them with her hair short and sleek at her collarbones, black satin dress clinging to her skin.
Seonghwa looked so good.
“Stop drooling,” Hongjoong murmured.
San felt her face go aflame. “I’m not!” She yelped.
Seonghwa, thankfully, hadn’t seemed to notice. “I knew that would look wonderful on you,” she said, eyes trailing down the dress.
San smoothed it down. “I love it, thank you.”
Hongjoong scoffed and pushed past both of them.
San glared at their retreating back. Wait till Hongjoong grew feelings for someone. She’d never let them live it down.
Then Seonghwa took her hands, and all feelings of anger disappeared. “You look tired,” she said quietly as Seonghwa led her over to the sofa.
Seonghwa sat down, and San curled naturally into her. “It was…a long dinner.”
Hongjoong grimaced from where they were settled beside Jongho and Yeosang. “Eomma felt particularly vicious today.”
“My Eomma showed up.” Seonghwa interjected.
San’s eyes went wide. “What?”
Seonghwa wasn’t out to everyone, just her closest friends—and her mother. Seonghwa’s Eomma knew she was a lesbian, so she would’ve known Seonghwa and Hongjoong were only faking their relationship.
“She played along for whatever reason,” Hongjoong said. “So we got out of it.”
“Thank god,” Yunho exhaled.
Hongjoong nodded tiredly. “Yeah.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Mingi began shifting. “Uh, actually, this isn’t a normal dinner. We asked Jongho to host it because we have something to announce.” He glanced at Yunho.
San felt her eyebrows furrow. The rest of them looked equally confused.
Yunho cleared his throat. He held up Mingi’s hand in his, and it took a moment for San’s eyes to focus. On the rings.
“You’re getting married!” Wooyoung screeched, his voice way louder than all the other exclamations of shock.
Yunho grinned bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
“Oh my god,” San breathed. “Oh my god!” She leapt over, managing to encircle both of them in her arms. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” Yunho laughed, as Mingi hugged her back.
She let them go, watching as everyone went around and offered their well-wishes and just genuine overwhelming delight. They finally all settled back down on the sofas. San realized she’d taken Seonghwa’s hand again without knowing it.
“How did it happen?” Jongho asked.
Mingi and Yunho laughed in unison. “I was going to ask yesterday, but he beat me to it,” Mingi said, pointing at his fiancé.
San snorted. Of course Yunho and Mingi would try to propose on the same day.
Yunho nodded. “We did have one more thing to ask you all.” He glanced around the room. “Would you all be part of our bridal party?”
San sat there, entire body frozen in shock.
Yunho went on. “We already decided—I’d like Hongjoong-hyung to be my best person.”
“And I want noona to be my best—maid? Woman? Whatever it is, I mean,” Mingi said.
Hongjoong blinked. “You want us?” They asked, voice hushed.
Yunho’s smile turned a bit sad. “Mingi doesn’t have any siblings, and my parents might not even let my brother come. And—you guys are our best friends.”
“Even me?” San asked. She looked around at Wooyoung and Yeosang. “Us?”
Wooyoung nodded in agreement.
Yunho reached out and ruffled her hair softly. San was too shocked to try to avoid it. “You guys too.”
It—was true, San had thought it earlier, that they’d surprisingly clicked really well. But—to be part of the bridal party? To be Yunho or Mingi’s bridesmaid. She hadn’t known they held her in such close capacity—she felt her eyes burn unexpectedly.
“I’m going to cry!” Wooyoung wailed loudly, covering his face with his hands. San could relate.
Yeosang looked equally dazed, leaning into Jongho.
Mingi laughed. “Go for it, but we still haven’t really decided who’s on who’s side. Anyone has any preferences?”
San certainly didn’t. She was still reeling from being asked in the first place.
The silence in the room showed that everyone else felt the same.
“Great,” Yunho said finally. “Well, I was thinking that I could get Wooyoung, since Sannie will probably go with Mingi.”
“Wait, why will I go with Mingi?”
Mingi shot her a flat look. “Because noona is on my side.”
San pouted. “That doesn’t mean I’ll go with you. Me and Seonghwa-unnie aren’t attached at the hip. We can be apart.”
“Sure you can,” Wooyoung drawled, skepticism oozing from his voice.
San folded her arms. “Fine. I choose to be on Yunho’s side, then.” Then she glanced back at Seonghwa, furrowing her eyebrows in silent question.
Seonghwa was already smiling indulgently. “I’m sure Yunho will be very glad to have you.”
“I mean, sure,” Yunho said blinking. “If that’s what you want, I’m more than happy to have you on my side.”
“So what about me?” Wooyoung piped up. “If Jongho and Yeosang are going together—”
“No, no, we’re going to separate those two,” Mingi said hurriedly. “They’ll never get anything done if they’re together. Wooyoung, you’re on my side then.”
Jongho snorted. “I mean, fair.” He looked at Yeosang, and just. Kept. Staring.
San groaned loudly, matching Wooyoung and the rest of their friends.
Jongho laughed, looking away. “Clearly, it’s true. Alright, then. I’ll go with Yunho-hyung?” That…had probably been to make sure Yeosang stayed with Wooyoung, who would ensure he was always comfortable.
San felt her heart squeeze some more. Yeosang was in good hands now, wasn’t he?
Yeosang nodded. “Great, I’m on Mingi’s side then.”
Mingi clapped his hands. “So we’re decided. I get Seonghwa-noona, Wooyoung and Yeosangie. Clearly, my side is better.”
San gasped loudly.
“How dare you!” Yunho cried. “Over me, Sannie and Jongho?”
“We’re obviously better,” Wooyoung smirked, staring dead into San’s eyes.
“I’ll kill you,” San said, staring back in the same way.
“Woosan have reached the murder threats, which means we should probably change the topic now,” Hongjoong said drily.
They did spend a bit longer there—San couldn’t stop gushing over Yunho and Mingi and their rings and their marriage—but then it started getting late, and they had to rush away. Jongho and Yeosang disappeared to an inside room for some reason, so they had to wait after that.
There was a hand around her wrist. San glanced up and let Seonghwa pull her a bit away gently. “Something wrong, unnie?” She asked.
Seonghwa shook her head. “Are you free tomorrow?”
“I’m not any busier than I normally am. Why?”
“I just wanted to try something new, I had to make sure you wouldn’t be too tired.”
“Try something new…” San’s eyes widened. “Like in bed?”
She said that last part a bit too loud.
There was sudden silence. San turned slowly, grimacing, to see everyone else eyeing the two of them with disgust.
“Are you talking about your sex life right in front of us? Really?” Hongjoong asked incredulously, face all scrunched up.
“Is there a way I can bleach my ears,” Wooyoung muttered.
San scowled at him. “Shut up.” As if she and Wooyoung hadn’t shared all the dirty details of their sexual escapades over the years.
Thankfully, right then Jongho and Yeosang sauntered out of their room—not looking sex-mussed, which was good, because Jongho would’ve been murdered by both Wooyoung and San on the spot if they were.
Though Yeosang did look…weird. San didn’t get any time to ask what was up, because they were being ushered downstairs and into Jongho’s car quickly. Yeosang pushed them in and the entire car ride back Yeosang sat still, clearly not wanting to discuss it.
San exchanged suspicious looks with Wooyoung until they reached and Yeosang kissed Jongho goodbye. San and Wooyoung made the obligatory gagging noises. Then Yeosang all but scrambled out of the car.
Jongho rolled down the window, giving him a sweet smile. “Take your time, hyung. I don’t mind.”
Yeosang quickly. “Yup. Yes. Sure. I will.”
Jongho laughed. “Bye then.” He usually waited for them to enter their building before driving away, so they waved goodbye before heading inside.
Wooyoung was on him the second they were on the stairs. “What’s going on.”
“Let’s talk inside,” Yeosang said.
Naturally, the second the door of their apartment had shut behind them, San whirled on him. “You’re acting so weird.”
Yeosang let out a long sigh and sat on the sofa. San exchanged a look with Wooyoung, worried now, and sat down beside him. Wooyoung dropped down on his other side.
“Jongho wanted to ask me something,” Yeosang said finally.
“…what?” Wooyoung asked.
Yeosang took in a breath. “He—he asked me to move in with him.”
San sat there.
It—it wasn’t completely out of left field. Yeosang had been dating Jongho for nearly half a year before he’d introduced his boyfriend to Wooyoung and San, and it had been forever since that day.
“That’s good,” Wooyoung said finally. “That’s really, really good.”
San nodded. “I’m so happy for you, Yeosangie,” she said, squeezing his hand.
Yeosang bit his lip. “But—you guys—”
Well. She got that. It would be a big change. She’d been a frequent visitor in Yeosang and Wooyoung’s dorm in college, and the three of them had gotten a flat as soon as possible. And then they’d stayed together, after graduating, even once they’d moved out into the real world.
“We’ll be okay,” Wooyoung said. “Don’t worry about us. We couldn’t stay together forever, could we? And Jongho is—he’s a good person. He’ll take care of you.”
Yeosang nodded. “I guess so. I mean, I told him I need some time to think about it.”
“That’s good,” San said. “Yeosang-ah, if you really want to, don’t let us hold you back. We’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll keep visiting you, won’t we?”
“That’s true,” Yeosang said hesitantly. He glanced at both of them. “You guys really wouldn’t mind?”
Wooyoung sighed and took his hands. “Yeosang-ah. Do you really think that either of us would ever be anything but overjoyed for you?”
Yeosang blinked rapidly. “No! I just—”
“We get it,” San said, rubbing his shoulder. “But I promise you we’re the happiest people on earth right now. Okay?”
Yeosang swallowed, nodded. “Okay. I—I think I’m going to say yes, then.”
San smiled, throwing her arms around him. “Oh, I’m so glad! We’ll help you pack, of course—”
“You don’t mind if I take your room, right?” Wooyoung asked quickly.
San let go of Yeosang to put her hands on her hips. “Why would you get his room?”
“He’s my best friend!”
“He’s mine too!”
“Okay,” Yeosang laughed, extricating himself from them. “You’re both going to share my room, it’s not going to be anyone’s. I’m going to go to bed now, so if you’re planning on fighting some more, keep your voices down, please.”
He walked off into his room, shutting the door behind himself.
As soon as he was gone, Wooyoung scooted closer, lowering his voice. “San-ah.”
San looked at him, saw his eyes mirroring hers, and nodded. “I know.”
“I mean, I’m really happy for him,” Wooyoung whispered. “Beyond happy. But—rent.”
San rubbed her forehead. “Yeah. We’ll have to pick up more shifts, I guess. Maybe we can even look into renting out his room.”
Wooyoung pressed his lips together, glancing at Yeosang’s closed door. “Maybe. We’ll take about it later, yeah? Right now we should just celebrate for him.”
San gave him a little smile and dropped the whispering. There was no need to keep her next words quiet. “Of course. Our Yeosangie, moving in with his boyfriend. He’s really growing up, isn’t he?”
Wooyoung pretended to wipe away a tear. “Our baby. I’m so proud.”
“Shut up!” Yeosang shouted from inside.
San laughed with Wooyoung as Yeosang made threatening noises from inside. Yeah. They’d be okay.
***
“Hi, unnie,” San sang as Seonghwa opened the door, her voice lilting upwards.
Seonghwa smiled and looked San up and down. “Hi. You look lovely.” It was true, she did—aside from the natural beauty of San’s pretty, pretty face—no makeup, thankfully, or else it would’ve been ruined tonight—she was in a short floral dress, long brown hair tied back in a loose bun.
“So do you,” San said, toeing off her shoes and walking inside as Seonghwa shut the door behind her. “So.” She waggled her eyebrows. “What was it that you wanted to try?”
Seonghwa sighed, grinning despite herself. “Be patient, will you? Wine?”
“Always.”
She poured out some of her expensive Pinot Noir. San took a sip and sighed. “Ah, that’s nice.”
“I know,” Seonghwa said, sipping it herself. “How have you been?”
San’s eyebrows furrowed a bit. “Fine, mostly.”
Seonghwa recognized that particular look—most likely money issues, and San didn’t like talking about those. She didn’t want San to wear that expression, though, not tonight and not ever. She’d do her best to wipe it off.
She talked about what was going on in her company, about the irritating men she had to deal with lately, waiting until she and San were both done drinking to get to it. “Bedroom?”
San’s mouth tilted up in a wicked little smile. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Seonghwa led San inside, the younger girl’s fingers loosely tangled in her own. The bed looked much like usual, blankets folded neatly at the end and pillows plumped up.
San dropped down onto it, lips pursed. “I don’t see anything new.”
“Patience, darling,” Seonghwa said. She bent down and opened one of the drawers in her desk, pulling out items that would definitely interest San, and turned around.
San’s eyebrows shot right up at the sight of the ties in Seonghwa’s hand, pink and lacy. They didn’t look like much, but Seonghwa had already tested their give. They’d hold even under San’s ridiculous strength.
“I see,” San said slowly. “Any particular reason you brought these out?”
“You’ll see,” Seonghwa said, tone sweet. “I’d really appreciate it if you stripped, though.”
She watched San swallow. She stood slowly, lowering her hands to the hem of her dress. San pulled it off in one smooth motion, dropping it carefully onto the bed.
“You dressed up all pretty for me?” Seonghwa cooed, looking at the white underwear that was barely covering anything. It made San look almost angelic, but Seonghwa knew first-hand how deliciously devilish the younger woman could be.
San blushed. “You said you wanted to try something. I had to put in some effort too.”
“Well, I like it very much,” Seonghwa said, leaning her back against the desk.
San unhooked her bra and put it on top of the dress, bending over and pulling her panties off unceremoniously leaving her naked. “There, you happy?” She crossed her arms, clearly trying to look confident despite how exposed she was under Seonghwa’s eyes.
Seonghwa stood silent for a moment, watching her fidget, and then grinned. “Very. Lay down for me, will you?”
San sat on the bed and shuffled up, closer to the headboard.
“You know your safe word,” Seonghwa reminded as she pushed San down. She waited for San to agree before continuing, lifting her hands above her head and tying them down. She spread San’s legs before binding them to the bottom of the bed. “Ah, you shaved,” she said, staring between San’s legs.
“Surprise,” San muttered, face pink already, matching the lace.
“A very good surprise indeed,” Seonghwa said, stroking her inner thigh lightly just to watch it tremble.
San made a noise like an angry cat. “Are you going to get on with it?”
Seonghwa hummed musingly, leaned back. “Well. As it so happens, I actually have a meeting in a minute. You remember the last time I had a meeting?”
San’s eyes widened. “Seonghwa—unnie, no, you have to be kidding—”
Seonghwa smiled smugly. She doubted either of them would forget what had happened during that particular meeting, San kneeling between Seonghwa’s legs under the desk and getting a bit too risky with her mouth. Seonghwa had had to end the meeting very quickly after that.
“You already punished me for that!” San complained, which was true. Seonghwa had ended the meeting rapidly and hauled San over her lap ass-up the next instant. Apparently San had had trouble sitting the next day, much to Wooyoung’s amusement and Yeosang’s disgust.
“I know,” she said, getting up and retrieving her laptop from her desk. She sat down beside San on the bed. “I just think the lesson needs to be reinforced.”
“So, what, you’re just going to leave me like this?” San asked as Seonghwa turned her laptop on. “Tied up?”
“You’ll see,” Seonghwa said, logging into the meeting. “Now hush. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, right?”
San snapped her mouth shut.
Seonghwa spent a while talking about this quarter’s regional sales. She darted a few glances at San from time to time, smiling to herself at the scowl the younger girl kept on her face the entire time, even while she let out shaky breaths and squirmed.
Once she was pretty sure a significant amount of time had passed—and that her presence was not particularly required in the meeting now—Seonghwa muted herself.
San couldn’t see that, of course.
Seonghwa stretched, let a hand run down the bed. Her pinky finger brushed against San’s thigh. She pretended she didn’t see the resulting flinch.
Slowly, she dragged her hand up, around, towards the crease between San’s legs. San’s eyes were wide as she dipped her fingertips inside—
Seonghwa raised her eyebrows. “You’re this wet? Already?” She said, keeping her voice hushed.
San went bright red.
Seonghwa didn’t bother to hide her grin. She kept her mouth shut, though, because San didn’t know that she was on mute and that made it all the more fun—for Seonghwa, of course, not for San herself.
She stared at her laptop again just for show, not at all paying attention to the graphs on the screen. Her attention was more on where her hand was rested, fingers circling slow around San’s swollen clit.
San clearly hated it, from her red-bitten lips, and Seonghwa had known she would, impatient as she was.
Her hips were already twitching, just a little, every time Seonghwa applied a bit of pressure, only to ease up the moment later. It was slow, torturous, and it was clearly working San up, as every dip down made Seonghwa’s fingers wetter and wetter.
Seonghwa hid her smile as she rubbed her fingers steadily. It wasn’t as fast as San liked it, but she wasn’t really concerned about that. San wasn’t meant to come, anyways.
San, pink-faced, was giving her a pleading gaze.
Seonghwa flicked her clit.
San let out a high squeak, muffling it at the last moment. Her eyes went wide in terror.
Seonghwa let out a sigh. She shook her head slowly, giving the girl a disappointed look. It had been too soft for the mic to pick up on it even if it had been on, but still. San was supposed to be quiet.
San looked near tears. Her fingers were curling into the lace around her hands, hips squirming as much as they could manage. It wasn’t enough for her to get off, Seonghwa was sure of that, so this was probably working her up to torturous levels.
Seonghwa unmuted to chime in with an observation that was needed, twisting her fingers inside at the same time.
San had her lips bitten white in an attempt to not make any noise.
Seonghwa smiled, leaned back, and muted herself again. Again, angling herself in a way that San couldn’t see what she was doing.
She curled her fingers up, and a tear actually slipped out of the corner of San’s eye. Her gaze was anguished now.
It had probably been enough, Seonghwa decided. She left the meeting, closing the hood of the laptop.
San let out a cry when she got up.
“Shh,” Seonghwa said, placing her laptop on her desk and fetching an item of interest from her inside drawer. “I’m right here, baby.” She ran a hand up San’s quivering thigh, patting her hip carefully. “That was hard for you, wasn’t it?”
San nodded pitifully. “Yes, unnie, it was hard, please, please—”
“I’ve got you,” Seonghwa soothed. She didn’t untie San, though, settling between her legs and taking a moment to look. “My, you’re dripping. I didn’t expect you to be into that. Did you want them to hear you?”
San whimpered.
Seonghwa grinned, ghosting her fingers on San’s inner thigh, dangerously near to her pink folds. “Maybe you did. You want other people to hear all your pretty little sounds? Or do you want them to see you like this, tied up and so wet.”
“No, I don’t, I don’t—”
“You sure?” Seonghwa asked, running a finger on the very outside of San’s pussy, slick collecting on her nail. “This is telling me something else, though.”
San sobbed, twisting on the bed. “Unnie, please, I’m sorry, unnie—”
“Alright, alright,” Seonghwa conceded. “Don’t worry.”
Seonghwa lifted her other hand, the dildo she’d just fetched from inside clutched tightly in it, and shoved in inside.
San shrieked, back arching up.
She was loose because of how long Seonghwa had been finger-fucking her slowly, but not that loose, so she probably felt the pain from the stretch. Good.
Seonghwa didn’t give her time to adjust, fucking it in and out quickly, angling it in the way she knew San liked. San liked being filled up, mostly, and Seonghwa was certainly not opposed to making that happen. Over time, she’d gotten thorough with just how fast San liked it, how hard.
San was already so wet, the toy making obscene squelching noise on every push and pull. San herself was arching off the bed, the ties keeping her legs from closing. A bit of a pity. Seonghwa never minded San’s pretty thighs around her head.
“Unnie,” San moaned.
“Close already?” Seonghwa asked, teasing. She knew San would be, from how much Seonghwa had worked her up before.
San whined. “Yes, unnie, please—”
“I do love it when you beg,” Seonghwa murmured. She leaned forward, keeping the pace of the dildo steady and strong, and attached her lips to San’s clit.
San nearly screamed when Seonghwa sucked, tongue swirling around immediately. She kept the pressure on the right side of too much, and San was already so sensitive—
It only took moments.
San let out a loud cry as she came, shaking all over, slick gushing right out of her. Seonghwa switched to rubbing her clit slowly as she writhed and twisted, face screwed up in a perfect picture of pleasure and agony.
When San began twitching, she removed her hand. “You okay?”
San opened her eyes, sweaty and panting and still so, so gorgeous. “I—yeah. Oh my god.”
Seonghwa chuckled. “Good.” She leaned over, untying San’s wrists and ankles, massaging them lightly as she did so.
San sat up, curling in slightly. “Fucking hell, unnie,” she rasped. “How do you do these things?”
“I guess I’m just very talented,” Seonghwa said with no small amount of smugness.
San rolled her eyes. “Not modest, though?” She pointed her chin in the vague direction of Seonghwa’s crotch. “Can I do you?”
Seonghwa tilted her head to the side. “You can hardly move, so no—”
San pouted despite clearly still being boneless.
“But I’ll let you watch.”
San perked up.
She watched indeed as Seonghwa pulled off her top and pants, cat-like eyes darting all over even though she’d already seen Seonghwa naked a hundred times. She swallowed when Seonghwa pulled off her underwear too and tossed it aside, completely naked now.
Seonghwa scoffed amusedly, spreading her legs. She was wet, too—had been for ages. Teasing San like that had affected her to a degree she didn’t really want to admit.
San's eyes were like a hawk's as Seonghwa lowered a hand, rubbing along her clit lightly at first, and then faster.
She broke when Seonghwa slipped a finger inside. “Unnie, please, let me—” Without waiting for an answer, she shuffled forward, slumping beside Seonghwa on the headboard. She leaned down, attaching her lips to Seonghwa’s neck.
Seonghwa let out a little sigh, going back to rubbing her clit as San sucked along her neck and shoulder bones.
She yelped when one of San’s hands came up to fondle her breast.
“Love your pretty tits, Mommy,” San mumbled into her collarbone.
Oh, fuck.
Seonghwa moaned, tipping her head back against the wall as she rubbed faster. San kept pinching and flicking at her nipple, every touch sending sparks down her body, teeth grazing along Seonghwa’s shoulder.
She was close too, had been for ages, and was getting even closer because of San’s devilish hands and lips.
San broke away from her neck to kiss Seonghwa square on the lips, lazy and light. “Come on, unnie,” she murmured, slipping the words in between kisses. “Come for me?”
Seonghwa gasped into her mouth, body seizing up. She could feel herself clench and unclench around nothing, orgasm ripping through her. San kissed her through it, sweet and slow.
“Fuck,” Seonghwa breathed, coming down.
San giggled, eyes wide and bright with happiness, and, god, what was Seonghwa’s heart doing? “It’s all messy here,” she said. “Can we sleep in the guest room?”
Seonghwa eyed the sheets and nodded. She’d just wash them tomorrow. She helped San up, the younger girl still somewhat shaky, and they hurried, still naked, into the guest room.
San slipped under the sheets first as Seonghwa pulled on a long shirt, not as fond of sleeping naked as San was. She turned to see San holding her hands out, beckoning.
Seonghwa let out a huff, climbing into bed beside her and letting San wrap her limbs around Seonghwa’s body. “It was really nice, unnie,” she murmured, already sounding sleepy.
Seonghwa ran her fingers through San’s hair. “For me, too. I—yeah.”
I love you, she’d almost said.
But she didn’t.
***
“Eomma,” Seonghwa greeted, sitting down.
It was a bright day, the café around her quiet with hushed conversation, all the men and women in there perfectly-dressed and styled, poised and polite. And, of course, there was Hongjoong beside here, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
She didn’t know why her mother had called them both. It had been over a week since she’d found out that Hongjoong and Seonghwa were pretending to be together. Seonghwa had been afraid she’d hold that over their heads forever.
Not forever, it seemed, from her raised eyebrow. “Daughter. And Hongjoong.”
“Why have you called us, ma’am?” Hongjoong asked. They looked tense. Seonghwa couldn’t blame them.
“Just for a chat,” Seonghwa’s mother said lightly, setting down her cup of tea. “Tell me, Seonghwa-yah, are you still seeing that commoner girl? The waitress?”
Seonghwa blinked.
Her mother let out an airy laugh. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know what’s going on in your life. You’re still with her, aren’t you?”
Seonghwa exchanged a careful look with Hongjoong. “I—” There was no point in hiding it. “Yes. I’m not going to stop seeing her, so—”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” her mother said simply, stunning her into silence. “Does she love you?”
Seonghwa hesitated. They’d never talked about it, had they, from being just casual to whatever they were now, spending so much time together, falling asleep and waking up together, sometimes without even having sex. Kisses sprinkled in just like that, lips and cheeks. Holding hands and cuddling just for closeness.
“Hmm,” Seonghwa’s mother said. “I suppose you don’t know.”
“I think she has feelings for Seonghwa,” Hongjoong interjected. “Everyone thinks so.”
Seonghwa’s mother tilted her head to the side. “Feelings for Seonghwa, or feelings for Seonghwa’s money?”
Seonghwa’s eyes widened. “Eomma,” she said, voice hard. “Don’t talk about her like that. She’s a good person.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met her.”
Seonghwa pressed her lips together. “Well, I’m telling you.”
“You see, darling, I can’t just take your word for it,” Seonghwa’s mother said. When Seonghwa opened her mouth to protest, she held up a hand. “Ah, ah. I’m not saying you should leave her. I just want to make sure that she really does like you. A test, if you will.”
Seonghwa swallowed. “I’m…I’m not giving her any sort of test.”
“It’s not right to do something like that,” Hongjoong said.
Seonghwa’s mother raised both eyebrows. “It’s not right to deceive your mother either.”
Seonghwa stopped breathing.
She exchanged a panicked look with Hongjoong. “Eomma, what—”
“All I’m saying is, we should make a deal,” her mother said. “Let us make sure your little waitress really loves you, and in exchange I’ll keep your secret from Hongjoong-ssi’s mother. Everyone wins.”
“Everyone except San,” Seonghwa said cuttingly, because it was true. She knew the girl, knew her self-esteem issues. Something like this would destroy her. And Seonghwa would never forgive herself for it either.
“I suppose that depends on how she does on the test,” Seonghwa’s mother said. “I’ll tell you what you have to do. And, I’m warning you, don’t tell her. I’ll know. I always do.”
Seonghwa watched silently as she rose. Her heels clicked as she walked out of the café.
Hongjoong grabbed her arm. “Seonghwa. What are you going to do?”
Seonghwa looked at them, heart beating rapidly. She couldn’t do that to San—but she couldn’t let Hongjoong be outed, either, not to a mother that would despise them and a father that would…do worse. Much worse.
She bit her lip. “I—I don’t know.”
“Don’t do it,” Hongjoong said quickly. “Not for me.”
“How can I not?” Seonghwa breathed. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“I can handle myself,” Hongjoong said, but Seonghwa could see the panic in their eyes, the way they were fidgeting.
“No,” she said slowly, already hating herself. “No, I—I think I’ll have to do it.”
Hongjoong tried to dissuade her, but Seonghwa…couldn’t. She couldn’t let Hongjoong be hurt like that. They’d been best friends since they were children. And it would kill her to hurt San, but…there was no other option.
She headed back to her apartment in a daze, leaving Hongjoong at the door. She couldn’t really do anything but stretch out on the sofa, her thoughts racing with what her mother might make her do, with what it might do to San.
Seonghwa picked up her phone idly.
Ah. Her mother had emailed her. She did say she’d be spending the details soon.
Dread pounding in her, Seonghwa opened it. And read it. And read it again. She dropped the phone.
Her mother was…devious.
Seonghwa swallowed, thinking. She wanted Seonghwa to go to San and tell her that she’d been cut off for refusing to break up with San. And then see what San did, how she reacted. And she wasn’t allowed to tell San anything, or else Hongjoong…
This was like the plot of every other cliché kdrama.
At the very least, Seonghwa’s mother wasn’t forcing them to break up. Encouraging it with her schemes, maybe, but she wasn’t entirely opposed to them. She just wanted to get her way, to know for sure what was going on. What San felt.
And Seonghwa had to comply, so when it all came out…she could only hope that San wouldn’t hate her forever for it.
She didn’t have a choice.
So she texted San, asking if she could visit the apartment she shared with Wooyoung and Yeosang—not something they did often, if only because there was no privacy in there, what with their nosy friends.
San replied in agreement quickly.
Seonghwa drove down to their side of town, her fingers tight on the wheel. And when she reached San’s apartment, stood in front of the door, she—
She was going to be sick.
Seonghwa felt queasy, standing there, with the knowledge of what she was going to do weighing her down.
But what could she do, then? Just—stop supporting Hongjoong? Let them be exposed to their awful parents? How could she?
She knocked on the door.
It was Wooyoung who opened it, grinning bright and wiggling his eyebrows. “Here for fun times, huh?”
San popped up behind him, smacking his shoulder, hard. “Leave unnie alone. Unnie, come on, let’s go to my room.”
Seonghwa walked inside, waving to Yeosang. She shut the door behind them and settled down on San’s single bed.
“Is something wrong, unnie?” San asked, face creasing in concern.
God, Seonghwa was going to cry.
“Yes,” she said finally. “My—my mother knows about us.”
San’s eyes widened. She dropped down on the bed, clutching Seonghwa’s hands. “Are you okay? Did she say anything to you?”
The words were scratchy as they forced their way out of her throat. “She—she doesn’t want us to be together. I said I wouldn’t leave you, and she—she wasn’t happy. She’s cutting me off.”
The guilt was going to kill her alive.
San’s lips parted. “Oh, unnie,” she whispered. She squeezed Seonghwa’s hands. “Are you sure? She’s that mad?”
Seonghwa nodded quietly.
San sighed. She pulled Seonghwa in for a hug, wrapping her strong arms around Seonghwa’s body. “Alright. It’s alright. We’ll figure things out, okay?”
Seonghwa’s tears burned behind her eyes.
She didn’t deserve San.
San kept stroking her back, murmuring promises into her hair.
“You’ll be alright, unnie. I’ll make sure of it.”
***
Seonghwa was hopeful.
Things were going okay. Hongjoong’s parents hadn’t found out yet. San had taken the news of her being ‘cut off’ as well as Seonghwa had expected, supportive and kind. Maybe—maybe she’d take the news of it all being a ruse the same way too.
San was okay with it. She wasn’t with Seonghwa for her money.
So why, then, was Seonghwa’s call going straight to voicemail for the fifth time in a row?
Sighing, she dropped her phone.
Ever since she’d told San that she was being cut off—San had been lovely about it, of course. She’d comforted Seonghwa and promised that everything was going okay.
Seonghwa just…hadn’t seen her much since.
San kept texting her though, when Seonghwa asked to meet up, saying she was busy but she’d make time, she promised. It wasn’t like Seonghwa never saw her, after all. They’d met, twice. San had seemed as loving as usual, if a bit muted, but…
San probably was just busy. That was all there was to it.
Right?
Seonghwa continued to believe that, holding onto hope. What else could she do? She’d been so convinced that San wasn’t with her for her money. Everyone had been convinced of it. Sure of it.
So she was being silly. That was it. San still—loved her, in a way. Cared about her, at the very least. Even if it wasn’t romantic. She wouldn’t abandon Seonghwa just because she thought Seonghwa was no longer rich.
Then Seonghwa’s mother called her and Hongjoong to talk, and Seonghwa felt all her conviction disappear.
They ended up at that same café where all of this had started.
“So,” Seonghwa’s mother said, looking at the two of them. “I heard things aren’t going so well for you.”
Seonghwa didn’t bother asking how her mother kept tabs on her life.
“Everything is fine,” Hongjoong said, voice hard.
Seonghwa’s mother arched an eyebrow. “Really? That’s not what my reports say.”
Seonghwa sighed. She was too tired for this. “Just cut to the point, Eomma.”
“Hmm. Very well. I’ve observed that since I told you to test that commoner girl, you haven’t seen her anywhere as close to as frequently as you used to. And when you do see her, it’s for hardly any time at all.” She paused. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” Seonghwa whispered.
Hongjoong, beside her, flinched, even though Seonghwa had already told them this. There was no one else she could tell, anyway.
“I see. And how much have you been communicating?” Seonghwa’s mother asked.
Seonghwa thought back to her text chain with San, just one or two texts every day as opposed to the conversation that had used to flow. “San said she’s busy.”
“I suppose I have my answer, then,” Seonghwa’s mother said, and her voice wasn’t smug at all, which made it all even worse.
“No,” Hongjoong said. “No—give them more time. We don’t know anything yet, maybe San does have a reason for acting like this—”
“I’ve given her plenty of time,” Seonghwa’s mother said. “I didn’t say anything when she shacked up with a commoner instead of any of the heiresses I pointed out. I was willing to accept her foolish, young love—”
She turned to Seonghwa. “If your commoner had passed this test, believe me, I would have let you be together. She could have learned our ways, the dignity of our way of living. But as it stands—I cannot let you waste any more time on her.”
“No,” Seonghwa said finally. Her heart was aching. “Please. Let me stay with her.”
“When she clearly doesn’t feel any way about you?” Her mother sighed, almost looking pitying now. “No, Seonghwa-yah. I will let you love, but I won’t let you love pointlessly. MY daughter deserves more than this.”
Seonghwa’s eyes were burning.
“Leave her,” her mother said succinctly. “Tell that girl that you two should no longer deal with each other.”
Seonghwa opened her mouth to protest—
“Do it, or else I will let Hongjoong’s mother know the truth.”
“Tell her,” Hongjoong said, standing up. “Tell her everything. I don’t care. You can’t do this to Seonghwa—”
“No,” Seonghwa mumbled. “No, don’t.” She tugged at Hongjoong’s arm, making them sit back down. “I’ll do it,” she said, taking in a breath and looking up at her mother. “I’ll break up with San.”
“Good,” her mother said. Then her face softened. “Soon, Seonghwa, you’ll understand that I’m doing this all for your own good.”
She stood up and walked out, back perfectly straight.
“Seonghwa-yah,” Hongjoong said, sounding despairing.
Seonghwa couldn’t find it in herself to respond. She let Hongjoong pull her up and out of the café, drive her home, get her into her apartment.
“What are you going to do?” Hongjoong asked, sitting beside her on the sofa.
Seonghwa turned to look at them, feeling empty. “What can I do? I have to stop seeing San.”
“No,” Hongjoong said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that, not for me. I can take whatever my parents do, so you just—”
“It’s not for you,” Seonghwa said. Hongjoong fell silent. She took in a long breath. “It’s not for you, I swear. Eomma is…Eomma is right. San has been distant ever since I told her I’m being cut off. She’s not acting like she used to.”
It stung something awful, to have this revealed to her in such a way, by her mother’s intervention. It hurt, because Seonghwa had thought, really thought, that San would stick with her, that San wanted her for her, and not for her wealth.
She’d had to find out at some point, she supposed.
Hongjoong’s face was sad. “Maybe she had a reason.”
Seonghwa sighed. “Sure. I don’t—I’ve been hoping ever since. I can’t have hope anymore. I’m going to drive down later today and tell her.”
“Today?” Hongjoong yelped.
Seonghwa shrugged. “Why prolong the inevitable, right?”
Hongjoong stared at her for a long moment, lips pursed. “I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to,” Seonghwa said immediately. “I can handle it on my own—”
“What kind of best friend would I be if I let you handle that alone?” Hongjoong said. “I’m coming, and that’s final. I won’t leave you, Seonghwa-yah.”
Seonghwa sighed, leaning her head on their shoulder. “I know, Hongjoong. I know.”
She stayed like that until she felt like she could move. She doubted she’d ever be prepared for what she was going to do, but it was like ripping a band-aid off.
Hongjoong drove them there. Seonghwa knew San would be off from work by this time, but she wasn’t sure about Wooyoung or Yeosang.
And, luckily, when she rang on the doorbell, San was the only one inside. “Unnie?” She asked, looking confused.
“I’ll wait here,” Hongjoong said.
Seonghwa nodded at them and stepped inside.
“San-ah,” she said, sitting on the living room sofa. “We need to talk.”
San’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay,” she said slowly. “About what?”
“I think we should stop seeing each other.”
San’s face stayed blank for a moment. Seonghwa could see the exact moment it sank in, San’s eyes widening and lips going slack in shock. “What?”
Seonghwa nodded.
“Why?” San said, looking stricken. “Is this about your mother? Because I—”
“It is, in a way,” Seonghwa allowed. “But mostly it’s about us.”
San stared at her.
Seonghwa swallowed and straightened her back, willing herself to be calm. Strong. “Ever since I told you I was being cut off, you’ve been avoiding me.”
San shook her head. “No, I’ve—I’ve been busy—”
“It was a test.”
San fell dead silent.
“I wasn’t really being cut off,” Seonghwa said, her voice cold even to her own ears. “It was a test to see if you were only with me for my money. And—you failed, San.”
She looked away, unable to handle the way San’s face was crumbling. Was it genuine regret, or just because she’d found out that she’d failed the ‘test’?
“Unnie,” San gasped. “You can’t really—”
“I’m serious,” Seonghwa said. All of a sudden, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t stay here any longer. She stood up. “And I mean it. We should stop…whatever we’ve been doing. Goodbye, San.”
San was silent as she opened the door, walking outside and closing it with a click.
Hongjoong was waiting there, their face drawn.
Seonghwa took one look at their eyes and crumpled.
Hongjoong caught her, holding her up. “Oh, Seonghwa,” they whispered. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Seonghwa let Hongjoong lead her out. She couldn’t really register anything, body and heart numb.
What was she going to do now?
***
The door opened. “We’re home!” Wooyoung sang. He turned around and caught sight of her.
Yeosang gaped. “San-ah? What happened?”
San sobbed.
They both crossed the room in instants, huddling beside her on their cheap sofa. She was encircled by their arms, their warmth, and yet she couldn’t stop the tears.
It felt like her heart was tearing itself apart from the inside out, actual physical pain so strong San thought it might kill her.
“What’s going on?” Wooyoung said, sounding panicked. “Sannie, please, talk to us.”
San gasped for air desperately. “Seonghwa,” she said finally, in between sobs. “S-Seonghwa, unnie, she—”
“What did noona do?” Yeosang asked.
“She left me,” San said, almost a wail.
They both went still.
“She…what?” Wooyoung breathed.
“She doesn’t want to see me anymore,” San said, covering her wet face with her hands. “She—it was a test.”
“Wait, just—breathe, San-ah,” Yeosang said, rubbing her back. “Deep breaths. Calm down and explain. What was a test?”
San followed his breathing for a few moments, getting enough control over herself to wipe her eyes and stare at the floor. “Everything,” she said miserably. “She’s not really being cut off. It was a test to see if I really liked her or if it was just for the money, and—I’ve been blowing her off recently—”
“But you had a reason for that!” Wooyoung cried.
“She doesn’t know that,” San said, tired now. She leaned into his shoulder. “Apparently I failed. She thinks I’m some sort of gold-digger, and I can’t see her anymore.”
Wooyoung stood straight up, jostling her. “I’m going to go—”
San grabbed his arm, keeping him from marching forward. “No, don’t. It’s not worth it.”
Wooyoung still looked downright furious.
“Please,” she said. “Stay with me?”
His jaw worked, but he sighed, sitting back down, puling San into his chest. She was about a hundred percent sure he and Yeosang were having a silent conversation over her head, but she really couldn’t bring herself to care.
They moved her into her room at some point, and San was falling asleep, her whole body drained by everything that had happened.
When she woke up, there was muffled conversation from the kitchen. She got up slowly, walking outside.
“I won’t go with Jongho,” Yeosang was saying. “I should be here for Sannie, I can delay the moving in for a while—”
“No,” San said.
They both flinched to look at her, deer in headlights. She sighed, going towards them. “Don’t do that. You should move in with Jongho tomorrow, you guys have been looking forward to it. Don’t let me hold you back from that.”
“But you—”
San cut Yeosang off. “I’ll be fine. It wasn’t even a real break up. We weren’t official.”
“You basically were,” Wooyoung said, looking sad.
San shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, does it? It’s over now.”
“Maybe you could talk to her,” Yeosang said. “Or me. I’m moving in with Jongho, so I should see her every once in a while. We could explain.”
San shook her head slowly. “No. No, I don’t want to—grovel like that for someone who fucking tested me like that.” She got it, objectively, that Seonghwa was rich rich and had to be careful, but it just…hurt, knowing that someone she loved has trusted her so little.
She wasn’t mad about the misunderstanding, about Seonghwa thinking San was blowing her off. That was an easy mistake to make, and maybe they could’ve talked it out. But San couldn’t stand the fact that she’d tested her in the first place. Had Seonghwa not believed in her at all?
Wooyoung’s lips formed a thin line. “Yeah, that was a shitty move.”
“So…that’s it, then?” Yeosang asked quietly.
“I guess so,” San said, equally soft.
They didn’t press her after that, as they all ate dinner and watched a movie, just kept her sandwiched between them. San appreciated it. Though she was happy for Yeosang, she was going to miss them, going to miss being the three of them.
She had a fitful sleep that night.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it. How could she stop thinking about it? Just a short while ago, things with her and Seonghwa had been…perfect. San had been glowing, on top of the world.
And now she was…here. Dumped, in a way, by her friend-with-benefits, and heartbroken. She hadn’t ever planned on falling in love with Seonghwa in the first place. They’d just been insanely attracted to each other.
And then Seonghwa had to go and be kind, and sweet, and gentle, and everything that made San’s heart swoop. San had thought that Seonghwa cared about her in some way, even if it wasn’t romantic.
Seonghwa hadn’t ever trusted her, as it turned out.
She hardly slept.
When it was early in the morning, she gave up on trying to stay in bed. She didn’t drink coffee often, but she did today. It was going to be a long day. They had to move Yeosang into Jongho’s apartment.
Yeosang trailed into the kitchen first. He looked like he hadn’t slept either, though that was perhaps out of excitement. Or fear. It would be a big change for him.
San nodded at him. “Morning.” She winced internally at how hoarse her voice sounded.
Yeosang patted her shoulder. “Morning. How are you?”
“As well as I can be,” San said honestly.
Yeosang gave her a sad smile, knowing that that was probably not very well at all. “You really sure about this? I don’t mind postponing with Jongho.”
San shook her head stubbornly. “Absolutely not. We’re getting you in Jongho’s bed tonight.”
Yeosang sighed, grinning a bit nevertheless. “I’ve already been in Jongho’s bed.”
San waggled her eyebrows at him, making Yeosang roll his eyes. “I meant permanently. You’re going to be in Jongho’s bed permanently now.”
“You guys will be fine without me, right?” Yeosang asked, biting his lip.
San smiled. “We will, Yeosang-ah. Don’t worry about us. We’re going to be just fine.”
“We will,” said a rough voice.
They both turned to see Wooyoung there, sleep-rumpled, hair a mess and shirt wrinkled, lines in his face.
“You’re going to be more presentable than that when Jongho shows up, aren’t you? ”Yeosang said dryly.
“No promises,” Wooyoung said, rubbing a hand over his face.
Yeosang sighed.
They all woke up slowly, showering and getting ready to pack up all of Yeosang’s things. They already had the boxes loaded, and Yeosang didn’t have much stuff, as opposed to Wooyoung, that hoarder.
And everything was already organized, because they’d begun clearing out Yeosang’s room much earlier for…Seonghwa-related reasons. San didn’t want to dwell on those.
They spent a few hours packing everything, wrapping the fragile things up carefully. It was easy to use that as a distraction, mindless work and hollering every so often, “Yeosang, you won’t need this, so can I keep it?”
Yeosang only let them keep one thing each, which was completely unfair. Jongho would buy him anything he wanted, anyway.
They were done only a few minutes before Jongho was supposed to arrive, and they all changed quickly, not wanting to seem like complete slobs (even though they kind of were and Jongho definitely already knew that).
Wooyoung even managed to show Yeosang down to put makeup on him—“You’re moving in today, you should look good, Yeosang-ah!”—before Jongho finally rang the doorbell.
When they opened the door, San saw Yunho and Mingi standing behind him.
“I roped the hyungs into helping,” Jongho said, gesturing at the two giants. “Figured we could use the help.”
They certainly did, because even with the six of them in took a couple of trips to load all the boxes into the van Jongho had brought. San had never seen him in a van before, but she was glad he’d had the foresight to bring it instead of his car. All of this would definitely not fit in there.
San and Wooyoung weren’t planning to come, but Jongho insisted, and Yeosang looked like he wanted them there too, so they gave up and shuffled into the van with Yunho and Mingi, Jongho and Yeosang in the front.
“I was thinking we could have dinner in a few days to celebrate,” Jongho said while driving. “With Seonghwa-noona and Hongjoong-hyung too.”
San paused. She hadn’t thought…her friends, Hongjoong and Yunho and Mingi and even Jongho a little bit were her friends through Seonghwa. Now that that was over…what was going to happen to them?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Yeosang said delicately, glancing back at her.
“Why not?” Mingi asked.
San swallowed. “Seonghwa and I…aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
It was a miracle Jongho hadn’t crashed the van.
All three of them sounded shocked, looked shocked. Jongho’s eyes in the rearview mirror were wide.
“Are you serious?” Yunho asked.
San nodded, looking at her feet. “Yeah. I mean, we weren’t ever together, really, but now we’re…definitely not.”
“Why?” Mingi said, sounding both devastated and incredulous.
San sighed, leaning her head against the window. “It’s a really long story. I’ll tell you later. Or Yeosang will, I don’t know.”
That had definitely ruined the mood. Even though conversation picked up eventually, San could feel the stares on her, the clear confusion.
San didn’t blame them. She’d be confused too, if something she thought was going so well was suddenly over.
She did appreciate the joking around when they reached Jongho’s apartment, clear attempts to pull a laugh out of her, or at least a smile. She did try to look happy. It was a happy day. Yeosang’s day. She wasn’t going to overshadow it with her mess.
They moved all the boxes in a then took a tea break. Technically, half of them had coffee instead, but that was irrelevant. Nobody talked about it, which San was grateful for. It was nice to sit and chat with her friends and pretend, for a little while, like everything was normal.
They had to leave eventually, though. San threw herself into work, refusing to think about Seonghwa while she taught the kids. She’d never let her personal life affect her professional one, of course.
And then when she went home, she checked, on instinct, her phone—no messages from Seonghwa.
Right. Of course.
She’d spent the whole day without thinking about it, but now she felt tears in her eyes again as she stumbled inside, crashing on the couch.
“San-ah?”
Oh, great. Wooyoung had gotten off early.
She sniffed, wiping at her eyes uselessly. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Wooyoung said, his voice gentle as he sat down beside her. “Come here.” He pulled her in, kind and warm.
San let go, crying into his chest for everything she’d lost. Wooyoung stroked her hair through it, and if she heard him let out a few sniffles here and there, that was something she’d take to her grave.
They stayed there for a long time, San slumped into him, too tired to move even when she was done crying. Too tired to look up at Wooyoung’s face.
So she never saw how determined he looked.
***
Someone was banging on her door.
Seonghwa opened her eyes, each pound making her head throb. “I’m coming!” She yelled. Who on earth was it? No one knocked on her door like that. Scowling, she opened it, only to see—
Oh.
Wooyoung.
She pressed her lips together. “If you want to talk about San—”
“Oh, we’re going to talk about San,” Wooyoung said, pushing right past her. He stepped into her house shamelessly, folding his hands. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
Seonghwa sighed. She’d liked Wooyoung, she really had. She didn’t want things with him to end badly too. “What have I done?”
“Ruined the best thing you had,” Wooyoung muttered, swiping around something on his phone.
Seonghwa bit her lip. She didn’t want to talk bad about San to his face—
“I know you think she’s some sort of gold digger, but she’s not,” Wooyoung said emphatically. “And I can’t believe you’d ever think that.”
“Wooyoung, I really think what happened is between the two of us—” Seonghwa tried.
“She had a reason, okay? She wasn’t blowing you off on purpose. Sannie liked you for a lot more than your money, and you know it. I know you do.”
“I thought I did too,” Seonghwa said quietly, more honest than she’d meant to be.
Wooyoung looked up at her, eyes wide. Then he blew out through his nose. “God, you two are such idiots. Look—Yeosang moved in with Jongho today.”
Seonghwa blinked. She hadn’t heard about that. Perhaps she’d been too caught up in her mother’s schemes, trying to make sure Hongjoong was safe.
Wooyoung sighed. “That means we’re down one person to pay rent, right?”
Seonghwa nodded slowly.
“Me and Sannie—we’ve both been picking up extra shifts to try to cover it in advance,” Wooyoung said impatiently. “She really has been busy. That wasn’t a lie.”
Seonghwa blinked rapidly, taking it in. That…did make sense. “But then—she was being so weird. Even if she was busy, she was acting really shifty, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung bit his lip. “Well, it was supposed to be a surprise, but—I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore. Look.” He held up his phone, whatever he’d been looking for on the screen.
Seonghwa took it, scanning the photo. She recognized the layout as Yeosang’s room, but it didn’t look like Yeosang’s room anymore, bedsheets and curtains now pink, a little glass case at the corner. “What is this?”
“Sannie was going to ask you to move in with us,” Wooyoung said bluntly.
Seonghwa stared at him, eyes wide.
Wooyoung pointed at the screen. “She wanted it to be pink, because that’s your favorite color. Yeosang and I had to talk her down from painting the walls, too.” He snorted. “And that’s the display for your stupid action figures,” he added, pointing at the glass case.
“But—why—”
“Sannie can’t keep secrets, we all know that. She wanted to ask you after Yeosang moved out, so you could have a place to stay since your mother ‘cut you off’.” He said this last part with great disdain. “It would be a win-win, since we’d have someone to help with rent when you got a job.”
“She didn’t say anything,” Seonghwa said dumbly.
“Yeah, because she didn’t want to spill everything in advance,” Wooyoung said. “If she’d seen you she would’ve told you for sure, and, like I said, she didn’t want to ruin the surprise. I guess it doesn’t matter now, though.”
Seonghwa’s brain wasn’t working. “I need to sit down,” she murmured.
Wooyoung didn’t stop her as she stumbled to the sofa, collapsing down on top of it with weak legs. He did, however, stand in front of her with his hands on hips. “So now you know.”
Seonghwa looked at him wordlessly.
“So that’s that. But Seonghwa-noona, what the fuck,” he said, glaring now. “Couldn’t you have just talked to her? Why did you have to—not even break up, I guess, you weren’t together—but why did you have to just do that out of nowhere? You’re not that impulsive.”
Seonghwa’s mouth worked, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her mother.
“And what was up with that test?” Wooyoung said, voice growing louder now. “Are you serious? What on earth made you test Sannie like that? You know that was an awful thing to do, right?”
Seonghwa knew. She’d known long ago.
“Why did you do it?” Wooyoung asked, shoulders slumping. “Sannie’s a mess, you’re clearly not doing well either—was it worth it?”
Of course it wasn’t.
She wasn’t doing well at all. She’d picked up smoking again, something she’d let go of because of San, much to Hongjoong’s disapproval. She couldn’t sleep at night sometimes, the phantom of San keeping her awake. And all this for what?
Wooyoung sighed heavily, looking somewhere between disappointed and angry. Seonghwa wasn’t sure which hurt worse. “Noona, I never thought you’d do this.”
Seonghwa hadn’t either.
“Sannie wouldn’t have wanted me to tell you all this, but I had to,” he said. “You had to know how bad you messed up. We all thought you guys were perfect, you know? And then you just…how could you?”
Seonghwa couldn’t ask herself that question enough.
Wooyoung shook his head slowly, backing away. “I just had to tell you. Whatever you do after this—I don’t know. Just don’t hurt Sannie again.”
Seonghwa watched him leave, heard the door shut behind him. She’d managed to keep a straight, blank face for all the time he’d been inside, but as soon as she was alone—
She broke.
She dove for her phone, fingers scrambling on the screen and searching for the number through tears-filled vision.
The ringing echoed in her empty, empty apartment, broken by a voice. “Hello?”
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa sobbed.
***
San was doing…okay.
She was sitting at a solid middle ground, regardless of what Wooyoung would say. Sure, she still sobbed every night, but she could carry out her work and shifts at the café with no problem. No one knew how badly she was hurt. Except Wooyoung, of course. And Yeosang, because he got all the gossip from Wooyoung even though San told him to shut up and let Yeosang enjoy his blissful cohabitation with his boyfriend.
She was just making it day by day, sweating out her feelings at the dance studio and then distracting herself by dealing with customers at the café =. Day by day.
She’d get through this. She would.
The constant hovering on the edge of tears, thinking about Seonghwa and her gentle smiles, how happy San had been once—that was just. She’d work through it.
She was just being silly, it wasn’t like it had even been a real breakup. She was far too sad for someone who hadn’t even had a girlfriend in the first place.
She’d get over it.
San was just getting back from an evening shift, ankles aching. Wooyoung had gotten off earlier, so she was expecting to see food on the dinner table once she opened the door.
She did see food. She also saw Kim Hongjoong.
San stood in the doorway, stock-still.
“San-ah. I just want to talk,” Hongjoong said.
“They’ve been waiting here for a while,” Wooyoung said grouchily. “Didn’t want to talk until you came.”
San stood in the doorway. “If this is about unnie—”
“Please,” Hongjoong said. “Just hear me out.”
Maybe it was something about their face—open, exhausted—but San found herself crossing the threshold, shutting the door, sitting at the last chair on the table. “Well. Talk.”
“Seonghwa didn’t want to do it.”
She stared at them.
“The—the test,” Hongjoong started. “That whole thing about Seonghwa telling you she was being cut off—”
“That whole thing about Seonghwa-unnie lying to me,” San corrected.
Hongjoong exhaled through their nose. “Yes, that. It wasn’t her. I mean—she didn’t want to do it.”
San could feel Wooyoung’s confusion right beside her own.
“What do you mean she didn’t want to do it,” San demanded. “She came into my house and told me she was leaving me because she gave me some fucking test—”
“It wasn’t Seonghwa’s idea,” Hongjoong said, voice soft. They were looking at the table, hands scratching idly at its surface. “You—do you remember that Seonghwa’s Eomma caught me and her pretending to be dating in front of my mom?”
San thought back. “Yes,” she said slowly, because that had happened. She did remember it.
“Well. She finally came in with her price for keeping it a secret.”
“What,” Wooyoung said flatly.
“She knew about you and Seonghwa—I don’t know how,” Hongjoong said. “She said to—well, she told Seonghwa to test you, to see if you really liked her or if it was for the money. She said Seonghwa couldn’t tell you, and that if you passed she wouldn’t have a problem with you two seeing each other, but—”
“But I didn’t,” San said, hollowness spreading through her body.
“But you didn’t,” Hongjoong sighed. “I don’t—well, Seonghwa told me what Wooyoung told her, about you needing to cover rent and wanting to move in—”
“What?” San said, turning to Wooyoung.
Wooyoung winced. “I’ll tell you later,” he said quickly, and waved for Hongjoong to continue.
San stared at him for a moment more, but then she had to look back at what Hongjoong was saying.
“Seonghwa didn’t know all that,” Hongjoong said, lips tight. “I don’t know why she broke up with you. I think she was just—hurt, and insecure.”
“And we weren’t ever really official,” San said quietly.
Hongjoong nodded. “Yeah. That too.”
San sighed, dropping her head into her palms. It was just—so much. Seonghwa’s mother literally blackmailing her? Into testing San? It was insane, and yet—the more San thought about it, the more she knew it to be true.
Because Seonghwa wasn’t the kind of person who’d lie to San like that—but she was the kind of person who could get confused easily, sensitive enough to let her insecurities delude her into thinking San didn’t really like her. Love her.
She still loved Seonghwa.
“So,” Wooyoung started, and then stopped.
San got it. What more was there to say, really?
Hongjoong let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I really am. None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for me—”
“It’s not your fault,” Wooyoung said firmly, and San even lifted her head to give Hongjoong a tired nod at that. They knew what Hongjoong’s family was like, what they could do if they found out Hongjoong was neither cis nor straight. Hongjoong wasn’t for blamed with what had happened between her and Seonghwa.
“Thank you for telling me,” San said finally. “I’m just going to—” She stood up, blinking hard to keep back the tears. Wooyoung reached for her, but she moved out of his reach. “I need to be alone.”
Neither of them stopped her as she stumbled over to her room, passing the one that maybe would’ve been Seonghwa’s—it was still decorated, because she hadn’t had the heart to take it all down yet, and Wooyoung hadn’t been able to protest.
She could hear them talking outside, too low for her to make out the words, as she collapsed onto her bed.
What now?
Everything was such a mess—Seonghwa had been coerced into doing the thing San had been so angry about, and then they’d had a not-break-up, and now—now, according to what Hongjoong had said, they both knew the truth. Seonghwa, about why San had been avoiding her, and San, about why Seonghwa had ever lied in the first place.
Her phone was lying loosely in her hand—she could, technically, call Seonghwa right now. She could, and she might be able to hear her lovely, gentle voice. She could do it.
Still, for some reason, she didn’t.
***
Seonghwa smoothed down her dress, staring at herself in the mirror. It was lovely, seafoam-green and flowy, smooth as water against her skin. Her makeup was done to perfection, hair neat at her shoulders.
“You look good,” Mingi called loudly from his own mirror. “Now will you please come over here!”
“Right, sorry,” Seonghwa said, hurrying over to him. “Mingi-yah—don’t shake, drink some water.”
“No,” said Mingi, whose hands were indeed trembling. “That’ll mess up my lip gloss.”
Seonghwa sighed at the same time she caught Wooyoung rolling his eyes amusedly. She looked away quickly, patting Mingi’s white-covered arm. “Mingi-yah. You look great. Take a deep breath. Relax.”
“I’m trying,” Mingi said, still visibly shaking.
He really did look lovely, white suit covering his tall frame, light makeup highlighting his sharp features. Seonghwa had no doubt Yunho looked as handsome, though he was probably equally nervous.
“Do you need to sit down?” Yeosang asked quietly.
Seonghwa glanced over at him. Both he and Wooyoung were in suits the same shade of green as her dress, and Hongjoong, Jongho and—San would probably be too, wherever they were with Yunho.
Mingi shook his head, letting out a long breath. “No. I—I think I’m okay. I’m getting married.”
Seonghwa smiled at him. No matter how awkward it was to be here with Wooyoung and Yeosang, she was still so unbearably happy for him. “You’re getting married!” She repeated, laughing a bit at Mingi’s resulting smile.
Wooyoung and Yeosang were smiling too, their faces all creased up with delight that matched Seonghwa’s own.
There was a knock on the door. They all turned to see Hwanwoong open it, peeking his head in. “It’s time.”
Seonghwa swallowed, nervous herself for some reason.
Mingi turned, hands clenched into tight fists. “It’s just Yunho,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “I love him.”
That last statement seemed to give him strength enough to straighten his shoulders and stride for the door. Seonghwa envied that, to be able to say that you loved someone with such certainty, to know that they loved you back.
Wooyoung and Yeosang left first. They’d join the rest of the bridal party, but Seonghwa would be the one walking Mingi down the aisle. His parents had declined to come at the last minute, and Hongjoong was already the one giving Yunho away anyways. She’d stepped in.
“Ready?” Seonghwa asked quietly, stepping up next to Mingi.
He inhaled, exhaled, held out his arm for her to take, and Seonghwa did. “Ready.”
They walked out.
Yunho and Mingi weren’t going down the aisle, not technically. They’d be walking out together down long, opposite hallways—walking down the aisle together, to meet at the altar.
The arch they were walking down was decorated with lush hanging leaves, sparkling lights twining around them so everything was glowing. Yunho was glowing too, Seonghwa saw, catching sight of him in matching white. Hongjoong’s suit was matching her dress, too.
Yunho and Mingi couldn’t take their eyes off each other. As soon as they came into sight, Seonghwa heard Mingi’s breath hitch, and whenever she glanced at him she saw his eyes as fixed on Yunho as Yunho’s were on him.
She and Hongjoong escorted them to the altar and left them there, Seonghwa took her place beside Wooyoung—San was there, on Yunho’s side, but Seonghwa didn’t look at her. She kept her eyes fixed on Yunho and Mingi as the ceremony started.
It was lovely, simple and elegant. And Yunho and Mingi were so clearly in love with each other—their vows spoke of nothing more than pure love, with the kind of light laughter that only Yunho and Mingi could pull.
That was it—love, and laughter, and light, and Seonghwa was suddenly so overwhelmed that she got to be a part of this, of her friends’ most special day, of this celebration of their love. There was sniffling from around her too, and Yunho and Mingi were teary as well.
Seonghwa watched through blurry eyes as they exchanged rings and then kissed, Yunho dipping Mingi and then Mingi dipping Yunho, making all of them laughed.
Seonghwa headed for the reception in a blur. It was a small group, because most of both grooms’ families had refused to come, but their friends were there, and both Yunho and Mingi seemed more than overjoyed.
Hongjoong’s speech was long and probably the most beautiful arrangement of words Seonghwa had ever heard strung together. Seonghwa’s was shorter, and she could barely remember giving it. Jongho’s voice was shaky throughout, San and Wooyoung both delivered theirs through open sobs, and Yeosang kept himself stable even though tears were streaming down his face.
They’d all gotten a hold of themselves by the time the music started. Seonghwa watched Yunho and Mingi sway softly, looking around. She could see Jongho and Yeosang, and Wooyoung and San as well. She allowed herself to look for a moment more before tearing her eyes away.
“You two still haven’t talked?”
Seonghwa flinched. She hadn’t even realized Hongjoong was there.
Glancing over at them, she shook her head. Hongjoong had told her that they’d explained everything to San, gotten everything out in the open, but—San had never contacted her. And neither had Seonghwa.
It was getting awkward now, because she and San rarely came in each other’s proximity, so they could never get together, the eight of them, like they used to. Seonghwa hadn’t really talked to Wooyoung or Yeosang either, even though she saw Yeosang every once in a while because he was living with Jongho now. They were perfectly polite whenever they came across each other.
Hongjoong sighed. “Why won’t you two talk?”
Seonghwa shrugged, staring at Yunho and Mingi. “San deserves more than someone who can be controlled by their mother whenever. What if she makes me do something like that again?”
“Then you’ll talk to San,” Hongjoong said. “Like you guys should be doing right now.”
Seonghwa shook her head. “Just drop it,” she said, even though the words panged in her heart.
She could hear Hongjoong exhale, but they didn’t push the topic. And Seonghwa was glad for it. She was doing her best not to think about San anymore—this wedding was just a temporary blip. Then they’d go back to pretending whatever had been between them had just never existed.
Seonghwa left for the bar to get herself a cocktail. She wasn’t going to get drunk, of course, but a little alcohol wouldn’t hurt. She’d just picked up the little red drink when she heard the voice.
“Can I have a cosmo, please?”
Seonghwa’s breath left her in a rush.
She turned, everything in slow motion. San was standing right there, long brown hair loose down her back, lithe frame covered in silky green.
As if sensing her, San turned too.
She looked incredible. It wasn’t the makeup, though that was pretty too. It was just San, her delicate features as beautiful as always, brown eyes wide in surprise. “Oh,” she said, voice soft, and Seonghwa abruptly wanted to cry just from that.
A clink startled them both out of it. “Your drink, miss,” the bartender said, sliding the glass towards San, who took it with a distracted thanks.
“You…look good,” Seonghwa managed.
“You too,” San breathed. “It’s been—a while.”
Seonghwa nodded. “Yeah.”
They stood there in silence for a moment more before Seonghwa recollected herself. “I should get going.” She turned to leave—
“Wait!” Small fingers encircled her wrist.
Heart thumping, Seonghwa turned to see San staring up at her with wide eyes. “Did I—are you angry at me?”
“What—no!” Seonghwa cried. “Why would you think that?”
San shrugged, looking away. “You haven’t talked to me, ever since. Everything.”
“You haven’t either,” Seonghwa said.
“I suppose that’s true,” San mumbled.
Seonghwa looked at her for a moment, at the girl who’d stolen her heart and probably didn’t know it. Then, for once in her life, she chose to do what her gut told her.
“Come here,” she said, twisting their hands so that she was the one holding San instead. San didn’t protest as Seonghwa led her to an emptier part of the area, where no one could overhear anything. “San,” she said, on a sigh. “I’m not angry at you. I thought it would be the opposite.”
San blinked at her. “Why? Hongjoong-oppa told us everything. I know what happened—it wasn’t your fault, unnie. If anything, I—I should’ve known,” she said, words beginning to come quicker now. “I should’ve asked—you aren’t the kind of person to do something like that, I should’ve known that something was wrong—”
“Sannie, no,” Seonghwa said, heart breaking. She took San’s other hand too, holding both the little palms in her own. “I should’ve been smarter about it.”
“You couldn’t risk Hongjoong—”
“I should’ve done more,” Seonghwa said firmly. “You deserved better than me.”
“Oh—unnie,” San said, her face crumpling in a way Seonghwa hated. “No, don’t think that, please. You were everything I deserved and more.”
Seonghwa felt tears burning at the back of her eyes. She sniffed loudly.
San let out a wet laugh. “My makeup is going to get messed up.”
“I’ll help you clean it,” Seonghwa replied mindlessly, only realizing what she’d just said when San’s eyes widened.
Seonghwa saw San’s shoulders rise with a shaky inhale. Her hands were trembling in Seonghwa’s. “Was that an invitation?”
Seonghwa looked at her for a moment. Then, finally, she said, “If you want it to be.”
San blinked rapidly, looking away, and for a second Seonghwa feared the worst. Then San was looking up at her again with glossy eyes and a small smile. “I would like that very much.”
Seonghwa’s heart felt like it was going to burst right out of her chest.
San’s fingers stayed entwined in hers as they said their goodbyes to Yunho and Mingi and left, not missing the delighted looks from the rest of their friends, the nosy, wonderful people that they were.
San slipped into the passenger seat of the car as naturally as she always had. They didn’t talk as Seonghwa drove the way back to her apartment complex, all the way until they got into the elevator.
“I wasn’t imagining things, was I , unnie?” San asked, uncharacteristically hesitant. She wasn’t looking at Seonghwa as she spoke. “You like me. In a not-platonic way. Not just sexual either.”
Seonghwa blew out a breath. “You weren’t imagining it. And—I wasn’t, either, was I?”
This time San looked up at her, eyes big and honest. She shook her head mutely.
Seonghwa had always known that, somewhere, deep down.
They headed into her apartment, settling down not on the sofa but on the table instead. Seonghwa wasn’t sure why. It made everything seem all the more official, somehow.
“What do we do, unnie?” San asked quietly.
Seonghwa shook her head. “I don’t know. But I love you.”
San’s head snapped up, eyes widening. Even Seonghwa was surprised by what she’d just said. San knew she liked her—love was something else entirely. But it was what Seonghwa felt.
The younger girl’s face softened. “I love you too.”
Seonghwa sat there for a moment, let the words settle into her. She was both stunned and not, because they’d both been hurtling towards these feelings for a long time.
“Do we—what do we do?” San said, waving her hands around. “We—we love each other. I don’t want to live like we’ve been doing, like—like nothing ever happened.”
“I don’t either,” Seonghwa agreed. “I want to be with you. For real, this time.”
San’s eyes were big and shiny. “Really?”
“Of course,” Seonghwa replied. “I’ve always wanted to. Do you—do you not want—”
“Of course I want!” San exclaimed. “It’s you! I just—with everything—your Eomma, and Hongjoong—”
“I’ll handle my Eomma,” Seonghwa said firmly. “You don’t worry about that.” And it was true. All she had to do was guilt-trip her mother by telling her that she’d been the cause of Seonghwa’s recent unhappiness. “I’ll arrange for you to meet her properly, too, if you want. She did say that she’d accept us if you really liked me, not—”
“Not just for the money,” San said wryly. “Alright. That’s a relief. So—we’re really doing this, huh.”
Seonghwa nodded, swallowing. “I just—let’s be more careful this time. I should’ve been more honest with you—”
“I should have too,” San cut in softly. “I wasn’t angry about you getting confused because I was avoiding you—if it had just been that, I would’ve chased you down and made you hear me out. But that fucking test—I was so hurt, and angry—”
Seonghwa sighed. “Sannie, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am about it. I swear I’ll never let something like that happen again.” And she wouldn’t. Not even if her mother threatened to actually cut her off.
“I believe you,” San said quietly. “And I guess we should talk more,” she intoned. She let out a little laugh. “That’s what Yeosangie told me. We never did talk about our feelings, did we? I was so scared we were just casual—”
“I was too,” Seonghwa said, smiling back. “I’m so glad we’re not.”
“Me too,” San said. It looked like she was glowing a bit, but it had nothing to do with the makeup.
“Want to stay the night?” Seonghwa offered.
San’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but then they relaxed. “Why not?”
There was no good answer to that. They washed off their makeup in the bathroom together, and then Seonghwa lent San her thickest sweater because San loved bundling herself up in it. It had always been San’s favorite anyways.
They didn’t have sex that night. Seonghwa just laid beside San in bed, the younger girl curled up into her under the covers, lights off and breaths quiet and steady in the darkness.
Seonghwa felt so warm. Under the blankets, San’s body hot around her own, her own heart was heating up like it was making up for all the coldness it had been covered in recently. It was warm and dark and quiet and she had San in her arms and nothing had ever been more perfect.
“Starflower,” San whispered.
“Hmm?” Seonghwa asked, smiling a bit at the nickname San only ever used when she felt unreasonably fond of Seonghwa.
“I really love you. Really, really.”
“Me too,” Seonghwa said, squeezing her arms around San tighter. “So much so that I don’t have enough words for it.”
San’s only reply was a fluttery kiss against Seonghwa’s cheek. Seonghwa laid there, listening to San’s breaths even out, and then looked down.
How many times had she been in this exact position, with San asleep in her arms? How many times had Seonghwa watched her soft sleeping features and wished she could stay in this moment? Wished that she could keep things like this, keep San, call this wonderful woman hers?
And now she could. Now she could.