Chapter Text
Seulgi woke to the sun piercing through the uncovered window, its glare stabbing at her closed eyelids. Her head throbbed in protest, her mouth parched and dry, and a tickle of dust from the air made her nose twitch. She groaned, shifting slightly, and regretted it instantly as pain pulsed through her skull. A vicious reminder of last night’s wine—one glass, two, maybe three too many.
With a sluggish turn, she buried her face into her pillow, willing herself back into unconsciousness, but the dull ache in her limbs made it impossible. Shoulders, hips, head, throat—every inch of her felt the aftermath of indulgence. She wasn’t in college anymore. No more bouncing back after late nights and too many drinks. No more rolling into an early morning class like nothing had happened.
No such luck.
A shiver ran through her, remindering that it was- in fact- still winter, and that landlord had refused to return her emails about the faulty thermostat over the weekend. She shifted toward the warm body beside her.
Wait...what?
Seulgi’s eyes snapped open, her morning grogginess instantly overridden by one urgent question: Who the hell was in her apartment?
A dark head of hair, a face relaxed in sleep—soft lips parted slightly, long lashes resting against smooth cheeks. And, most pertinantly, stark naked, sprawled out in the middle of the makeshift nest of blankets on the floor. A small quilt barely covered her lower back, leaving little to the imagination.
Damn it.
Seulgi exhaled sharply, fingers curling around the edge of the blanket and yanking it toward herself. The woman barely stirred, shifting only slightly, still lost in sleep. Seulgi sat up, the blanket wrapped around her, scanning the dimly lit room. Boxes were still stacked in the corners, a clear sign of her unfinished move. The blankets she'd laid on the floor were a poor excuse for a bed, but it had been easier than dealing with the effort of unpacking and ordering a new mattress to be delivered.
Clearly, she’d had other priorities.
A groan of frustration slipped past her lips. This was not how she planned to start her first day in a new city.
“Wake up,” she muttered, nudging the woman’s hip with her cold toes. When that didn’t work, she pressed harder. “Hey, come on—wake up.”
Finally, the woman stirred, brows furrowing as she blinked up at Seulgi, taking in the surroundings with bleary-eyed awareness. Seulgi took a slow breath, only now realizing how objectively attractive her one-night stand was. Even disoriented, she had an effortless sort of beauty, the kind that made Seulgi's headache feel a little less pressing.
Way to go, she congratulated her past self.
The woman sat up with a yawn, stretching her arms overhead before letting them drop to her sides. She reached for something beside her—a piece of black fabric—and held it up between two fingers.
Seulgi’s underwear.
The woman raised a brow, clearly amused. “I think this is—”
“Humiliating on so many levels,” Seulgi cut in, snatching it from her hands. “You have to leave.”
The woman, completely unfazed, stood without any apparent rush, making no move to cover herself- completely content- confident, even- with her own nudity. She rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly. “What’s the hurry?” Her voice was warm, husky. “Why don’t we lay back down and pick up where we left off?”
Seulgi shot her a flat look, clutching the bundle of clothes against her chest. “No, seriously. You have to go. I’m already late, and that’s not a good look on my first day of work.”
The woman blinked lazily, then smirked, glancing around the apartment like she was appraising it. “So, you’re not from here, huh?”
“What gave it away?” Seulgi deadpanned, standing in the middle of a semi-circle of boxes, surrounded by bare floors and walls.
“Just a hunch.” The woman dragged her fingers along the dusty windowsill, inspecting them with idle curiosity before squinting into the sunlight. “Either that, or you’re a terrible interior designer. And you don’t sound like you’re from here. Busan? Gangwon?”
Seulgi didn’t bother answering, folding her arms and tilting her head, watching as the woman took a slow step across the room, seemingly unhurried in her departure.
“Plus—” she mused, eyes flicking over Seulgi with a gaze that lingered a moment too long—“I’d remember you if you were.”
Seulgi exhaled through her nose, turning away before the heat in her face betrayed her. “It’s a big city,” she muttered. “You’re not going to know everyone in it.”
“So, you are from here, then?”
Seulgi paused, then sighed. “One—get away from the window. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I run a whorehouse.”
The woman chuckled but complied, taking a few steps back. Unfortunately, ‘away from the window’ meant closer to Seulgi. She gritted her jaw and took a step back as well, determined not to let the proximity affect her.
“And two,” she continued, gesturing between them, “we don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“The whole morning-after conversation thing. We don’t have to exchange details, pretend we care about each other’s lives…” Seulgi waved a hand dismissively. “Look, I’m going to shower. When I come back, you won’t be here. Got it?”
The woman didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she smiled, tilting her head as if considering something. Then, finally, she spoke.
“Jaeyi.”
Seulgi frowned. “What?”
“My name.” She extended a hand. “Jaeyi.”
Seulgi hesitated before reaching out. Long, slender fingers curled around hers, the handshake effortless—practiced. Not too soft, not too firm. Perfect.
Seulgi pulled her hand back, still trying to untangle the morning’s mess in her head. She didn’t have time for this. Didn’t have time for anything beyond her first day, her job, and the responsibilities she’d taken on.
Damn wine. Damn Jaeyi…
“Jaeyi,” Seulgi repeated, testing the name on her tongue. If she gave Jaeyi hers, would she finally leave?
“Seulgi.”
Jaeyi’s smile didn’t falter. “Goodbye, Seulgi.”
Something about the way she said it lingered—an unspoken promise hanging between them. Seulgi forced herself to turn away, heading for the bathroom, shaking off the distraction.
There was no room for distractions—not today.