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Under a streetlamp’s yellow hue, she’s right there, within reach.
There’s a cool breeze that sweeps her hair past her face and makes the flame from her silver lighter shaky – and she’s within reach.
The orange glow disappears from her face after her cigarette is successfully lit, and with jaded eyes, Momo watches as she takes a deep breath in and then just as quickly lets the smoke out from her hollowed cheeks. Her eyes move suddenly, no longer spaced out and staring at the road in front of them, but instead, directly on Momo’s – and she’s out of reach again.
Momo breaks eye contact. She can’t stand to see Nayeon this way anymore. Breaking her heart over someone that never deserved it. Not when she has been waiting for years for Nayeon to look at her and realise that her own heart has been pounding out of her chest for her for as long as she can remember.
Nayeon’s smoke blows her way and every time Momo smells it, she’s reminded that Nayeon’s still fighting the remnants of her ex, she’s reminded of how easily the memory of someone can stick with you like stale smoke.
Their friends are all gone, their stomachs full of cheap food and even cheaper alcohol from the restaurant they’ve been habitually meeting up at since university days. The only two remaining are her and Nayeon. The others were so unaccustomed to Nayeon’s quietness, how she barely ate anything and how she didn’t laugh at any of the jokes, even the ones they made especially for her.
Momo’s been dealing with this version of Nayeon since her breakup a month ago.
It’s hard to explain what she felt.
Happiness. Followed by immediate guilt for being happy at her friend’s expense. Then came a short bout of compassion.
Now, Momo’s feeling nothing but bitterness and a little agitation.
“Let’s go,” the other woman says, pushing her shoulder-length red hair behind her ear with one hand and keeping the burning cigarette between her lips. Momo follows as she crosses the street, with her hands in the pockets of her jacket and her eyes trained on the lines in the street.
This version of Nayeon hurts.
They don’t speak until they’re getting closer to Nayeon’s apartment building and passing by all the small shops on the way. The smell of food is heavy in the air as people get ready to close for the night, and usually Momo would be ready to eat again, but Nayeon’s making her feel so uneasy that she doesn’t want to eat for a week. Maybe that’s unfair of her. Maybe she’s unfair for even thinking of Nayeon in ‘versions.’
Nayeon throws her second cigarette into a bin they walk by, and as she reaches into her pocket for the pack, Momo puts a hand over hers and holds it without thinking. Nayeon looks at her, her cold fingers rigid for a moment, before she lets Momo clasp their hands. Momo can heat her up just as well as a cigarette can, does Nayeon know that? She holds on a little tighter just to prove it.
Nayeon raises her eyebrows at her but keeps on walking.
“What are you going to do when you get home? Pass out?” Momo asks, trying her hand at jumpstarting a conversation that Nayeon might just let break down again.
There’s another breeze of smoke and whatever expensive perfume Nayeon’s wearing, something that makes Momo’s nose twitch in annoyance, then delight and familiarity. She hears Nayeon’s soft voice.
“No. Maybe,” she shrugs her shoulders, trying her best to look as though she’s not positive that she’s going home to cry and drink more just to get to sleep. “You?”
“I’m not ready to sleep yet.”
“You’re not a lightweight like I am.”
Momo smiles a little but can’t help her eyes from roaming her friend’s body in search of any signs she might be drunk enough already.
“You’re not swaying,” she points out.
“I am. In my mind. It’s stupid.” She quickly closes her mouth and shakes her head. “Whatever. I don’t want to keep complaining about the same things. It’s getting old, even for me.”
Momo’s smile dims and she’s reminded once again that Nayeon’s heartbroken right now – this isn’t just a nice night with her, holding her (now warm) hand as they make their way to her apartment. She doesn’t need it, but she’s reminded again that no matter how tightly she’s holding Nayeon’s hand, she’ll still be out of reach.
She’s stuck between wanting to pull her hand away and squeezing even more.
“I don’t mind,” which isn’t completely a lie – she’d let Nayeon talk about anything. Really. “It’s just that I want you to realise you’re better than that.”
“Better than what?” Nayeon’s hand is slipping from hers and her defenses are slowly rising. Momo can tell, so she’s already rolling her eyes at the older girl’s prickly mood.
“Better than this. Better than smoking, better than not even enjoying time with your friends.” Than enjoying time with me, Momo thinks.
Their hands separate. Momo puts hers back into her pockets and Nayeon crosses her arms over her chest. It falls silent, and Momo almost says sorry just so they don’t say goodbye on bad terms, but she isn’t sorry. She means it – Nayeon’s too good for any of this.
“I’m trying,” Nayeon’s voice cuts into the night and disrupts the taps their shoes were making on the pavement. Momo chances a glance at her and catches her trapping her plump bottom lip between her teeth.
She feels that jab of guilt again.
“I know.”
“And I did have fun.” Their eyes meet and Momo gives her a doubtful look. Nayeon’s lips morph into a small, apologetic smile. “I’m trying. But I had fun with you, I always do.”
Momo nods and bites the insides of her cheeks so she doesn’t smile too widely.
“I know.” She looks ahead again. “Come home with me.” It should’ve been a request, but she’s purposely not offering Nayeon the chance to say no.
Nayeon seems to be thinking it over, then she nods; Momo’s pretty sure she only agreed so she didn’t have to be home alone, stuck with her own thoughts again, but the reasoning doesn’t matter if she can have Nayeon to herself for a few more hours.
They walk in silence for a while, until Nayeon asks her something she wasn’t ready to answer.
“Why are you never the heartbroken one?” There’s a small smile on her face as she looks across at her. Momo isn’t allowed to tell her that the person who’s responsible for her heartbreak is asking the question.
So, she lies.
“I’ve never been in love.”
Nayeon laughs. “Try it sometime. The romance part of it is pretty nice.”
“Yeah?” Momo stares up at the sky. Watches the few stars up there twinkle. She asks something equally as harmful to herself. “Are you romantic when you’re in love? I can’t imagine you being mushy.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Hirai,” she holds onto Momo so she doesn’t bump into anything while stargazing. Momo hides another smile. “I’m the type to kiss someone in the rain when I’m in love.”
Momo wants to wish for rain – but that’s the smallest part missing from the equation.
Laying on her bed in one of Momo’s large t-shirts, Nayeon runs her fingers over small Polaroids of them and all their friends from over the years.
Momo crawls onto the bed next to her in similar attire, looking down at the album and smiling at the picture Nayeon’s staring at with a smile.
“You were so cute,” Nayeon grins, “go blonde again.”
Running a hand through her hair, Momo shakes her head.
“Not happening.” In the picture, a blonde and younger Momo has her arms around two of their friends, making a pout. She watches as Nayeon takes up another picture, examining it closely. “That was a fun night.”
Nayeon doesn’t say anything for a few moments.
“I hated it,” she finally admits. “Our last university party together and you showed up with a date.”
Momo runs her eyes over the picture, looking at the smile on Nayeon’s lips and only just noticing how it didn’t reach her eyes. Even her pose next to Momo and her date (who even was that?) looked tensed.
“I didn’t think you would mind.”
Nayeon rolls onto her back and looks up at her.
“You didn’t think I would mind that my best friend dumped me for a random girl? You didn’t even give me a warning.”
Momo pokes her cheek gently and Nayeon gives her a smile that’s so big that Momo isn’t sure how she ever lasted so long without seeing it.
“You needed a warning? Why? So you could bring a date, too?” She’s teasing, but Nayeon laughs and nods. It makes her poke her again.
“I’m joking.” She laughs, hair splayed out under her and making the deep red colour of Momo’s duvet look like an ugly shade in comparison.
“Yeah?” Momo asks, partly because she doesn’t think she is, and partly because she’s so distracted by just staring at the woman below her, that she can’t think of much else to say.
“Yeah,” then she adds, “but I was a little jealous that night.”
The words make Momo’s stomach flip, something like a hopeless hope beginning to brew in her stomach even though she’s aware she shouldn’t let it.
“Friend envy is a serious offense,” she says, veering on the side of caution.
“Friend envy.” Nayeon repeats the words, then she smiles slowly. “Don’t play dumb.”
“It’s what I do best.”
“Oh, I know.” Nayeon sits up, bringing their faces so close that Momo has to lean back in order to maintain a safe distance between their faces. “You were especially good at it back then.”
Momo laughs.
“What are you talking about?”
Nayeon takes a turn at poking her cheek, her nail sharp but her touch light.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” she tilts her head, squinting her eyes. “Everyone knew.”
There’s that hopeless hope again, making Momo feel deluded but also very sure that she could be right.
“Knew what?”
Nayeon stays silent, the moment getting so suddenly serious that she breaks out into a nervous smile and lays back on the bed with a huff of air. For the first time in a while, she’s staring at Momo long and hard, like she used to, trying to break her down.
Momo used to squirm so much under her intense gaze, now, all she wants is for Nayeon to see everything.
Nayeon’s fingers loosen around the polaroid, until she’s no longer absently holding it.
“I liked you.”
The words wash over Momo like a shower of warm water that quickly turns cold.
“Liked me?” She accidentally puts emphasis on the past tense of the word, but it doesn’t go noticed by Nayeon, who laughs and blushes a little.
“Let’s not talk about it,” she says quickly, already turning onto her stomach and hooking her ankles in the air together, already going through the rest of the pictures.
Momo pushes the album away from her.
“No, tell me,” she insists, not willing to let this go. Even if those were feelings of the past and hers are very much in the present and future. “You liked me? When?”
Nayeon groans and tries to reach for the pictures again, but Momo holds her reaching hand and pins it above her head on the bed. Nayeon ends up laying on her back again as she pretends to struggle in the hold.
“You can’t just say that and not tell me anything else about it.”
Nayeon’s eyes move around the dimly lit room, then she accepts defeat (way too quickly for someone like Nayeon) and lets their eyes lock.
“What can I say about it? I liked you, that was it.”
“But when? How?” Momo pushes further, desperate to cling to any detail of Nayeon’s feelings that she can. She isn’t sure if it’s wise – maybe knowing this will just make her regret more things, instead of giving her comfort that there was a time when they felt the same thing for each other.
“It’s not important now. I don’t know.” Nayeon wriggles her hand to be let free, but Momo doesn’t let go yet, and she knows Nayeon still isn’t really trying. The older girl gives her a smile and there’s a twinkle in her eyes that Momo hasn’t seen for weeks as something in her head clicks. “What? Did you like me too or something?”
Unable to speak, Momo nods mutely.
Nayeon’s smile drops slowly, then it comes back, softer than ever.
“This is unexpected.”
“I doubt that.” Momo says firmly. “Everyone knew.”
Nayeon laughs and her other hand comes up so she can poke at Momo’s face. Again.
“Don’t mock me.”
Smiling, Momo pins that hand down as well, forcing her to lean over Nayeon’s torso.
“I’m not. They did. Why do you think they always tried to get us alone together? All those times they ditched us, including tonight, saying they wanted to go home early.”
Nayeon searches her eyes as she takes her words in. She isn’t tugging on her hands anymore, as if she forgot she was trying to get away.
“Including tonight?” She asks, dipping her head down when Momo lowers her own to hide the blush rising from her neck and spreading to her ears. Nayeon wriggles her hand in her hold, trying to get her attention. Her voice is gentle, “hey, look at me.”
Slowly, Momo raises her head until she’s caught in Nayeon’s stare once again, this time feeling as though Nayeon finally sees everything.
“Including tonight?” Nayeon asks again.
Momo considers what she should answer with; if she lies then they’ll still be fine, with the potential to be great. But if she tells the truth, then this could be it for them.
“Including tonight,” she whispers back, afraid of saying it any louder.
Nayeon’s silent again, realisation setting in as she turns the information over in her head. Momo’s ready to let go of her hands at the first sign of Nayeon wanting to leave. It feels like minutes are ticking by in chunks, and Momo’s getting more and more self conscious the longer it takes for Nayeon to even show her an expression of disgust.
She loses confidence and tries to move her hands away, but Nayeon’s quickly close around her wrists and she pulls her back into place.
“Don’t move away,” Nayeon says softly. Momo’s heart thumps in her chest and she’s so sure that her eyes are going to start watering from sheer mystification at Nayeon’s calm demeanour in contrast to her own frantic feelings, but she stays where she is. “I’m just…thinking.”
“That’s what scares me,” Momo admits, albeit softly. Nayeon’s fingers are warm. Warm from having Momo’s heated skin under her touch. They send jolts of electricity up Momo’s arms, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand and her breathing uneven because she’s forgetting to.
Nayeon stares up at her, eyes dropping from hers, then to her nose, then her lips. Reflexively, Momo licks them and Nayeon’s eyes follow the movement with ease, as if hypnotised.
“Does that mean,” Nayeon starts, and Momo watches her throat bob as she swallows, “that you still like me?”
“This is embarrassing,” Momo shakes her head, tries to pull away again, but Nayeon’s hands are larger and they’re wrapped so securely around her wrists that Momo’s left to whimper and whine at her predicament. “Nayeon.” She draws her name out. “You were right – let’s forget it.”
“I don’t want to. I can’t.”
“You can,” Momo’s meets her eyes again, vibrant and mysterious as she stares back. Nayeon’s always been harder to read.
Nayeon tilts her head, biting her lip and then releasing it so she can smile.
“You still like me?”
Momo’s pretty sure it moved past a simple ‘like’ ages ago. If it ever was simple. Nayeon doesn’t need to know that.
“Yes.”
Nayeon’s silent again. Momo’s fighting the urge to hide because she can’t stand the silence.
“Say som-”
A kiss is pressed to her lips before she can get her words out. Nayeon lifted herself so quickly to reach her mouth that Momo barely had time to wonder what was going to happen. She still isn’t sure, not even as Nayeon’s soft lips stay against hers.
A few moments pass, then Nayeon pulls away and lays back onto the bed.
Momo stares at her, lips buzzing and stomach clenching for more while her mind is saying it should’ve been enough.
“What was that? A peace offering?” She tries to joke about it so they aren’t in such a tense silence. Nayeon smiles and she can’t help smiling back. She can still feel Nayeon’s lips on her own.
“I was just testing something out,” Nayeon shrugs. “I always imagine what it would be like to kiss you. If it would be awkward because we’ve been friends for so long, or if it would make my feelings less or more intense.”
Momo’s stomach flips again.
“Imagine?” She repeats and Nayeon smiles bashfully. “And? Which one was it?”
“I liked it. I’d do it a-”
Then Momo leans down and kisses her again, this time pressing their lips together surely and with purpose, as Nayeon moves her hands higher in order to clasp their fingers together.
So, this is kissing Nayeon: firm fingers wrapped around her own, faint smell of Nayeon’s perfume and Momo’s shampoo, light touch of her lips that turns more possessive as she pushes her tongue into Momo’s mouth, and a strong thigh that raises itself until it’s slotted between Momo’s legs. She has kissed Nayeon in fantasies, awake and asleep — only Nayeon could make a dream pale in comparison to the real thing.
She tilts her head. Nayeon’s tongue goes farther, no longer testing the waters. Momo wants to put her hands all over the body that’s beneath hers. She wants to lower her hips so Nayeon’s thigh adds pressure over the crotch of her boxers. Nayeon lets one hand go to stroke Momo’s jaw and she can’t help the low sound that blooms from her throat.
It’s enough to make Nayeon pull back, lids heavy and a line of saliva connecting their reddened mouths. She’s breathing heavily. Momo’s breathing the same way; their chests press against each other like two waves from different oceans somehow meeting. Her eyes drop down to Nayeon’s lips. There’s static in the air again. She could sink or swim in the next five minutes, it all depends on Nayeon.
Nayeon’s eyes go to her lips, then a hand is in Momo’s hair tugging her back down and reclaiming her mouth. She swims.
Her hands are shaking. She can feel the way they tremble as she glides them up Nayeon’s sides – wonders if Nayeon feels it too and what she thinks of it. Momo’s scared. Excited. Anxious. So fucking happy. Her hand grips Nayeon’s waist and she digs blunt nails into the skin there, drawing out a low groan from Nayeon as she raises her hips to meet Momo’s. Her heart quickens. She squeezes again, putting her weight onto her thighs as she hovers over Nayeon and starts to feel her skin get too hot when Nayeon’s plush lips drag down to her neck.
“Momo,” she says her name. Kisses her neck, across her throat, anywhere she can reach while Momo tilts her head and closes her eyes to soak it all in. Nayeon’s kisses are stamps, invisible ink splattered all across her mouth and neck. “Momo,” she says her name again, and this time Momo forces her eyes open to look down at her.
“Yes?” She runs a hand through Nayeon’s hair, pushing it away from her face as the older girl tilts her head up. She smiles, slowly. She’s in Nayeon’s lap now, her hands around the latter’s shoulders and she isn’t even sure how she got there. When Momo smiles back, Nayeon seems to snap out of whatever trance she was in prior to putting her tongue down her throat.
“I…” Nayeon stumbles. Momo’s smile fades and she starts to worry the dream is ending on a bad note. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
Momo doesn’t know what that means – is she sorry for taking the kiss too far because she didn’t mean it, or because she’s not sure if Momo liked it? Momo’s too scared to ask. Always too scared to have her scariest questions answered.
She doesn’t know what to say, so she opts for getting off of Nayeon’s lap first. Nayeon’s hands fall from her body. She sits beside her and crosses her legs, her knee tapping the photo album.
Nayeon looks nervous too.
“Sorry,” she takes her turn to apologise, but she doesn’t mean it. How could she? When she can still feel the pressure of Nayeon’s lips on her own, can still feel how good it felt to have her tongue in her mouth. Nayeon looks at her like she knows Momo’s lying. Momo gives her a guilty smile that makes them laugh. “A little.”
“Liar.” Gentle fingers tuck Momo’s hair behind her ear. Her eyes close at the touch. “I’m not sorry we kissed. That’s not what I meant. I just think you deserve more than me kissing you after spending weeks moping around, heartbroken.”
Momo agrees to a certain extent. There’ll always be a part of her that would sacrifice something for Nayeon…that can’t be so wrong. So far, she’s only ever had this much unconditional love for her parents and her childhood dog. Figures.
She’s afraid to meet Nayeon’s eyes. But, in the end, curiosity wins and she can’t help but lift her head to stare at the girl whose eyes are already locked onto her.
Nayeon licks her lips, looking like she’s considering her next move from here on out; Momo is stuck watching and waiting and wondering how the fuck she came so close to potentially ruining everything. And how the fuck it felt so good to just have Nayeon’s skin against her own.
Her cheeks burn as she pictures how far it could’ve gone. She only realises she’s still staring at Nayeon’s lips when they start to move, with the older girl muttering a sharp, “fuck it,” then pulling Momo back on top of her.
Nayeon says something. Momo hears her, but she’s so busy trying to get the t-shirt up, up, just a little further up – now she can see the smooth expanse of skin and her eyes and mouth are both widening. She lowers her head to Nayeon’s neck, gives it a kiss so fleeting that she regrets it immediately and goes back in for another longer one.
“Momo,” Nayeon groans her name, but not in the usual way where she’s frustrated with Momo for doing something she said not to. This is a whole new ‘Momo.’ It’s breathy. It’s making Momo’s lower stomach feel tight. She presses her hips down. Nayeon pushes hers up.
She continues down a path she has dedicated every birthday wish to (hands clasped tightly under her chin, eyes closed just as tightly and a chant of wanting Nayeon’s body under hers, Nayeon’s lips on hers, Nayeon’s heart with hers) and has to force herself to ignore the fact that Nayeon isn’t wearing a bra and she could so easily push the shirt just a little higher and kiss- firm hands tangle themselves in her hair before she can finish the thought, and Momo’s head is pushed down.
She smiles and looks up at Nayeon, who stares down at her with her bottom lip between her teeth. Momo rests her chin on Nayeon’s stomach and smiles crookedly.
“So impatient,” she teases, even though her voice is raspy and her hands and lips twitch with the need to do everything she wants to.
Nayeon’s lip is moist and red as she finally releases it. “You can’t blame me,” she lightens her grip on Momo’s hair in favour of holding her face gently. “You can take all the time you want after this, but right now…” and she pushes Momo’s head again after a light tap on her cheek.
Momo smiles, a blush on her cheeks because she likes it too much when Nayeon is demanding her to do something like this. So, with an elated feeling brewing inside her chest that’s threatening to pour from her opened mouth, she drags her lips down Nayeon’s stomach, down, down, just a little further down – now the hands in her hair tighten even further in anticipation.
Her name is said so many different times and different ways. There’s a Momo tinged with urgency, a Momo full of need, a Momo on the verge of desperation, then, a Momo that leaves Nayeon’s lips in a raspy voice that breaks on the last syllable. But, with her eyes never leaving Nayeon’s, Momo thinks her favourite is-
“Momo,” Nayeon pants, chest heaving and her thighs tight around Momo’s head for a few more seconds. Her eyes did their best to stay opened, but there were a few times where she lost the battle and had to close them while she bit at her lip. Now, she stares down lazily at Momo. Her hold on her turns gentle, hands going back to the sides of her face as she drags her thumb over red cheeks.
Momo kisses the insides of her thighs again, slowly, making sure to give her all into saving this moment to memory. She needs to remember everything. Everything. From the amount of times Nayeon said her name, to the way she tastes and the feeling of her skin beneath her fingers. Her nails make red lines as she drags them back up from supple thighs to a soft stomach. Nayeon groans and tugs on her arms until she’s hovering over her again and kissing her.
“I…” and Momo wants to say ‘I love you,’ between the kiss, between their mouths, but she stops herself.
“You…” Nayeon smiles, tilting her head to place another kiss along Momo’s jaw, down to her neck and sucking. It’ll probably leave a mark…she should tell Nayeon she hates hickeys – but wouldn’t she love them if they came from Nayeon? The flutter in her chest and the way her eyes close tell her she would. “You…” Nayeon says again, her tongue darting out to lick a stripe to the other side of Momo’s throat.
Momo’s breathing stutters and she has to stop herself from grinding against Nayeon’s thigh.
“You…I can’t think when you do that,” Momo says honestly. Nayeon slots her thigh more firmly between her legs, warm and perfect – she must know what she’s doing. Momo breathes out. “Please.”
Nayeon’s hands are so capable. So soft yet so controlling; she drags them down Momo’s sides until she’s squeezing her waist, then gripping her ass and pushing Momo down towards her thigh.
“Don’t think right now then,” Nayeon continues marking her neck up. Momo’s positive she loves it. But she loves the feeling of Nayeon’s hands on her ass and the firmness of her thigh even more. “Good.”
“Nayeon,” she’s not really a talker during sex, but this is sex with Nayeon. A fantasy personified. A wish granted. A prayer answered.
“Shh,” Nayeon slides her fingers into the sides of Momo’s boxers and pushes them. “I love when you wear this pair, but you’re making a mess.” And Momo should hate how arrogant and mocking Nayeon sounds, but she just can’t. If anything, it makes her roll her hips harder, then she kicks the boxers off her legs the rest of the way. “That’s better,” Nayeon’s looks down to watch Momo on her thigh. Her eyes darken in a way that sends a small thrill through Momo, but her next words amplify it. “Just like that, Momo.”
When has her name ever sounded so good?
Nayeon doesn’t text her the next day, she doesn’t call either. Momo’s texts are left, presumably, ignored for three days. She’s telling herself that it’s normal for Nayeon to panic a little – they’ve been best friends for…forever, then one night they’re kissing and giggling confessions to each other with pink cheeks and having great sex. Amazing sex.
It’s normal to panic.
It has to be, because she’s panicking herself.
A lot of things cross her mind but the thoughts that stick usually involve some scenario of Nayeon being filled with regret and not wanting to confront her. Or, Momo’s worse and bigger fear, Nayeon somehow willing to forget it all ever happened after some time apart.
It’s raining on Thursday. Momo’s in the overalls she wears while she paints in the studio, with an apple in her hand that’s serving as lunch for the day.
She takes a bite, leans against the brick wall, stares at the road in front of her being doused in heavy rain… and feels defeated. Wishes she kept her lips to herself and her words in her head that night. Anything to stop Nayeon from running away. But, there’s that stupid saying that Jihyo always echoed…if you love something let it go.
“What are you thinking about?”
If it comes back…she turns to Nayeon and can’t remember the rest of the phrase. The older girl’s holding a yellow umbrella, it’s so big and attention grabbing that Momo almost smiles.
“Not much,” Momo lies. Like she should’ve done when Nayeon asked if her feelings were still there. Nayeon stands in front of her, blocking out the view of the road. She’s wearing heels, in her business suit that she only pulls out for her most important presentations.
“Hi,” she breathes. There’s a nervous buzz between them. Nayeon smiles at her as if she isn’t sure she’s supposed to. “I was coming to offer you a ride home. Since it’s raining.”
Momo finally smiles.
“You don’t have a car.”
“I realised that after I stepped out of my office and walked to the car park.” Nayeon’s cheeks tinge with pink and Momo’s mind reaffirms what she always knew: she’d let Nayeon get away with anything. “But I still came.”
Momo nods her head slowly, her apple going forgotten in her hand. She still wants to make this a little hard for Nayeon. Subtly. A gush of wind blows Nayeon’s scent towards her. She smells of her own perfume and nothing else. No smoke.
Nayeon waits, then realises she isn’t getting a verbal response and continues talking.
“Listen, Momo,” she stares up at the umbrella in her hand for a moment, then meets Momo’s eyes again. “I don’t always have my thoughts in order. Sometimes, I don’t even realise I’m missing something important until I’m confronted by the absence of it.”
“Like a car.” Momo provides.
Nayeon chuckles at her own expense.
“Like a car. Exactly my point.” She steps closer, making sure to to keep the umbrella high so it doesn’t hit Momo’s head. A little closer and she’d be protected by the roof of Momo’s studio, but she keeps that small distance between them. “I’m not saying I never knew that I needed you years ago, or even lately, but I am saying hearing you say that you…that you like me, it was like I had to face the fact that I never stopped wanting you to like me.”
Momo isn’t sure what that means. Is Nayeon saying all she wanted was for the scoreboard to be tied?
She chooses to stay silent again, only nodding her head once. Nayeon looks at her eyes as if she’s desperately trying to be understood, then she lets out a short laugh and looks up again.
“Okay, you’re going to make me work for it a little. Which is fine, I’m prepared. I think,” she pauses, bites her lip. “I’m sorry for disappearing. I just needed to be sure.”
“Sure of what?”
Nayeon looks a little guilty, with that smile she saves for getting out of trouble. “You. Me.” She gestures between their bodies with her other hand. “My feelings…you’re my best friend, Momo.”
Momo feels her hopes crash. She had expected the impact so much that she barely stumbled.
“I know. You’re mine too.” Her words are soft, subdued. Almost inaudible against the rain.
Nayeon nods, “so you understand why I needed to be sure, right? Because if we fuck this up, we’d lose so much. So much. And I never want that to happen.”
Momo’s confused again. Her and Nayeon communicate well sometimes, just through a look across a room even, but as for the other times – well, Nayeon often gets frustrated with Momo.
Like now.
Her cheeks puff up and she rolls her eyes.
“You don’t get what I’m saying here, do you?”
“I think I do,” Momo rubs the tip of her nose with her index finger as she tries to piece it altogether. “You’re saying we’re best friends.”
Nayeon raises her eyebrows, waiting for the rest, but it never comes. Another roll of her eyes.
“Really, Momo.” She stares at her for a moment, then steps closer, making the gap between them almost nonexistent. Momo glances down at Nayeon’s heels as they splash the tiniest bit of water onto her sneakers. Nayeon looks down as well, then grins. “Sorry. Let me try again, okay? In a way you’ll understand.”
Nayeon waits until Momo meets her eyes again, then with a determined look, she slowly leans in. Momo’s eyes widen as their lips touch, then they flutter closed. It’s a simple kiss, but it holds enough meaning behind it for Momo to feel butterflies in her stomach and prickles in the palms of her hands. She almost drops the apple accidentally.
When Nayeon pulls back, just as slowly as she went in, she gives Momo an expectant smile. It’s tentative. Nervous.
“Well? Do you understand yet?”
Momo understands. It would be hard not to understand with the way Nayeon’s hand finds her own and intertwines their fingers. Momo stares down at them in wonder and can’t help but think, she’s within reach.
“I don’t think so…maybe try again?”
Nayeon chuckles, tucking hair behind Momo’s ears and then placing another kiss on her lips, this one less shy as she pulls them both into the rain and lowers the umbrella.