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Jeongyeon’s been looking forward to it. The drive with her friend, Momo’s home game. Having somewhere to be.
Instead, she’s sitting disappointed in Nayeon’s car while rain hammers against the windshield, stuck in a parking lot, watching the LED sign blink at them from above. ‘GAME CANCELLED’.
“I told you,” Nayeon jabs at her arm. “Didn’t I?”
“You say that like you’re happy about it.”
“Excuse me?” Nayeon turns up her nose. “I’d never wish that on my girlfriend. I’m the most supportive WAG there is.”
Jeongyeon cringes. “Please don’t tell me you call yourself that in public.”
Nayeon is already reaching for her purse. “I’m calling her.”
Jeongyeon looks back out the window as the call connects.
She’s been saying yes more, making an effort to do so. It’s been drinks after work with coworkers she doesn't care about, late dinners when she'd rather be in bed. All of them are plans that don’t involve ending up on the couch beside Jihyo until midnight arguing over what to watch.
It’s probably healthy.
So when Nayeon asked if she wanted to go to Momo's game, Jeongyeon didn't hesitate. Today, she was actually looking forward to something different.
“Hey, baby,” Nayeon coos into the receiver, and Jeongyeon pretends to gag. This earns her a whack on the arm. “Yeah, I know. It’s not ideal. Why was it left so late?”
A pause.
“Ah, okay. That's still bullshit though. Mm. Ooh, okay! Where were you thinking? Sounds good. I’ll meet you there later, drop me a pin. Say hi to Sana for me.”
A few minutes later, Nayeon pulls away from the stadium, the rain blurring the road ahead.
They sit in comfortable silence for a while, the kind that only comes from knowing someone too long. “You should come.”
Jeongyeon glances over. “Where?”
“Drinks, obviously.”
“With Momo and the team?”
“Yeah.”
Jeongyeon looks down at her phone. She has a draft ready to send to Jihyo. Game got cancelled. Heading home soon. Want anything?
The last message to Jihyo from yesterday is still sitting there unanswered. She frowns before finally pressing send.
“Nah,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “I think I’ll stay in tonight.”
“Your loss,” Nayeon sing-songs. "I'll just take you back, then."
They stop at a traffic light, twenty minutes into the trip back. Jeongyeon squints at what she sees in the distance, a shopfront she recognises.
“Can we stop for a sec?”
Nayeon turns her head slowly.
“...What? We're nearly there.”
Jeongyeon points ahead. “That store has really great ice cream.”
Nayeon looks at the sign, then at the rain pouring down outside.
“Right now? Are you nuts?”
Jeongyeon shrugs. “It’s not for me.”
Nayeon raises an eyebrow. “Okay.”
-
Nayeon pulls up outside the apartment building, the engine idling while the rain ticks softly against the windshield.
“Well,” Nayeon says, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. “Home sweet home. Last chance to change your mind…”
Jeongyeon’s already unbuckled, shutting the car door behind herself. “Don’t peer pressure me.”
“Mhm,” Nayeon peers at Jeongyeon through the open passenger window, looking her up and down in mild distaste. “You'll make sure to tell Jihyo I said hi, won’t you?”
“Tell her yourself,” Jeongyeon retorts, pulling the hood over her head as she ducks out. It doesn’t do much, truth be told. The rain was the heaviest when she retrieved the ice cream earlier, Nayeon staring at her like she was criminally insane for running back into the car.
“Yeah, okay,” Nayeon laughs, then shifts the gearstick into action. “Bye.”
She makes it inside, rummaging for her apartment key in her back pocket. She tries the left one first, then the right, patting her pants back to front in confusion, only feeling the rectangular imprint of her phone.
Fuck. Did she drop them somewhere? She kneels, placing the bag down to inspect in case she dropped it in there, too - no luck.
She’ll have to text Nayeon, maybe she dropped them in the car. She’s only just left. Jeongyeon quickly grabs her phone out, just as the front door to the apartment swings open.
“Oh, you’re home,” Jeongyeon sighs in relief, leaning down to gather the bag back up in her arms. The plastic handle strains white stripes into her skin. “I can’t find my keys. I grabbed something on the way back. It’d be a real pain in the ass if it-”
Jeongyeon freezes. The girl standing in the doorway is not Jihyo.
Pretty, similar height, but unfamiliar in every small detail. The eyes, the hair, the beauty mark under the left eye instead of her nose. Jeongyeon absorbs everything, including the lip tint smudged past the edge of her mouth, mascara flecked on her cheek.
Oh.
“-Melted,” Jeongyeon finishes, weakly.
“Sorry, I - I’ll just grab my coat,” the girl squeaks.
Jeongyeon slowly stands, staring blankly as she wrestles the hanger loop from the stand, only for the coat to slip from her hands and puddle at her feet. She ducks to retrieve it, a mortified, “Shit,” slipping under her breath.
"Sorry." She winces, bowing so deeply it hides her face, reddening by the second. "Um... I mean, thank you? Okay, bye.”
The girl darts out the door, right as Jihyo emerges from her bedroom, toothbrush dangling from the corner of her mouth. Jeongyeon doesn’t miss the slacks hanging halfway down her hips, the band of underwear peeking above the curve of her stomach, one hand resting lazily in her pocket. Freshly showered, hair still damp. Something tightens beneath Jeongyeon’s ribs, and she nudges the door shut with a quiet thud.
“Ah.” Jihyo pauses on the spot, words muffled around the toothbrush between her teeth. “I thought I heard a noise.”
“That would be the coat stand your friend knocked over.”
“‘Friend’ is a stretch,” Jihyo crosses the room to lounge her elbows on the bench. Right, that answered that. “Was I correct in assuming you weren’t meant to be home for another hour, or am I making that up?”
“The game got cancelled from the rain,” Jeongyeon explains, walking in to dump the shopping bags on the counter. “Nayeon just drove me back.”
The bench is clean, except for a bottle of wine and a half-empty glass left beside it. The other one is in the sink.
“That’s nice of her,” Jihyo raises a brow. “But isn’t she on the other side of the city?”
“Yeah.”
“I could’ve picked you up if you asked.”
A pang of irritation surfaces. “Well, I did text you.”
“Really?” Jihyo pulls the phone out of her pocket, quickly pawing through her notifications. “Oh, there it is. My bad.”
“It’s fine.” Jeongyeon focuses on the word rolling around on her tongue before she continues. It tastes metallic. “You were… preoccupied.”
Jihyo studies her for a long moment. “Did something happen tonight?”
“No. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Jihyo looks towards the hallway, then the door. “You seem kind of pissed off."
“I’m just tired.” Jeongyeon lifts the ice cream tub lid. The surface is already melting, like she’d feared. Figures. “Long day.”
“Are you,” Jihyo pauses, finding her words. “...upset about it?”
“Upset? Why would I be?” Jeongyeon scoffs, the sound ugly as it mangles with a laugh from her throat. She smacks the lid to the ice cream shut, opening the freezer to shove it next to a bag of shelled edamame. The frost nips at her skin. “It’s none of my business.”
A small, annoying voice in Jeongyeon’s head immediately argues otherwise - isn’t it? They’re best friends, they share everything. Right? The thought is unfair. She knows that the second it appears, and immediately pushes it to the corner of her mind.
“The game,” Jihyo’s brows knit together. “Didn’t you attend because Momo’s in the finals?”
Jeongyeon blinks, flustered. “Huh?”
“The finals,” Jihyo walks around the bench to turn the tap on, rinsing the toothbrush. “That sucks, honestly, having to wait again is even worse. Do they have another date set?”
Fuck. Jeongyeon shifts on the spot, hiding clenched fists in her pockets. “Oh. Yes. Yikes. No. Um, no date yet. Not that I know of. We’ll see.”
Jihyo turns, observing Jeongyeon through squinted eyes, before softly placing the brush down. “Okay, that’s not it. You’re still being weird.”
“No I’m not.” Jeongyeon retorts.
“Oh, come on. What is it?”
“Jihyo,” Jeongyeon warns. The problem is, she doesn’t actually have an answer to provide.
Jihyo just hums, swirling the remaining contents of the abandoned wine glass as if in thought. She stills, and the liquid settles as a slow grin spreads across her face. Jeongyeon immediately knows she’s made a mistake.
“Oh my God. It’s because I invited someone over, isn’t it?”
Jeongyeon’s head drops to her hands. “Don’t make me have this conversation with you.”
“Why not?” Jihyo lifts the glass to her mouth, taking an amused sip. “We’re both adults here, no?”
Jeongyeon won’t dignify that with a response. “Didn’t you literally just brush your teeth?”
“I can brush them again,” Jihyo shrugs, placing the glass back down. “So, you're embarrassed. You walked in as she was leaving. What's the issue?”
“I’m not embarrassed," She mumbles.
“Jeongyeon,” Jihyo giggles. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Jeongyeon huffs, blood flooding to the tips of her ears. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.”
“Ah, well," Jihyo says, tone flat. "Your schedule is a bit unpredictable these days."
The joke lands strangely. Not enough to hurt, just enough to make Jeongyeon pause. Then Jihyo’s grin returns and the moment passes.
“I’ll make sure to send you a calendar invite next time. Please make sure to accept for visibility.”
Jeongyeon could shrivel up and die, right there. “Seriously? You’re enjoying this.”
“I really am,” Jihyo laughs. “You just make it so easy.”
Jeongyeon opens her mouth, ready with a comeback, but nothing comes. Jihyo looks far too pleased with herself.
Come to think of it, she’s closer now than Jeongyeon needs her to be, too, no longer on the other side of the bench. She's almost backing her against the fridge. The cool surface presses against her as she steadies herself, suddenly too aware of the space between them.
Too close.
Jihyo’s expression softens, her eyes flicking to the damp strands of hair stuck to Jeongyeon’s forehead. “Hey,” Her hand lifts, gently brushing them away with a frown. “You're wet. How long were you standing out there?”
Jeongyeon hesitates. “You don’t have to do that."
“What? Worry about you?” Jihyo studies her, like she wants to say something else about it. Then, her nose crinkles. “Forgive me for not wanting you to catch a cold.”
“I won’t,” Jeongyeon exhales, trying to shake the static in her head. “Because I’m gonna shower,” She glances at Jihyo’s damp hair, planning her exit. “And maybe you should dry yours too before you lecture me, hypocrite.”
“Touché,” Jihyo shrugs. “Have you eaten? I was gonna make something.”
“I’m not that hungry,” Jeongyeon says, hoping the nonchalance isn’t betrayed by the way her attention catches on Jihyo’s fingertips skimming lightly across her chest, wiping off the stray droplets on her hoodie.
“Don’t be difficult,” Jihyo hums. “Just tell me what you want.”
Jeongyeon’s eyes drift to Jihyo’s mouth - the familiar shape of her lips, still faintly flushed from the shower. She’s looked at them hundreds of times before, but sharper, unwelcome flashes push in anyway. Those same lips on someone else. A stranger.
She catches Jihyo’s wrist before it can continue, pulling it away before stepping sideways.
“I’m good,” Jeongyeon says, already turning for the door, avoiding the flicker of hurt that crosses Jihyo's face. “I picked up the matcha ice cream you like. It’s in the freezer if you want it.”
Jihyo pauses, then, a quiet smile. “My favourite. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Jeongyeon gives a small nod. “‘Night.”
The door clicks shut behind her. She turns the fan on, and takes a few deep breaths to steady the terrifying stutter of whatever her heart is doing. She kicks her shoes off and stumbles toward the sink. She realises she hasn’t even taken them off since she came inside. Shit, her keys. Jeongyeon's completely forgotten about her fucking keys, completely consumed by what happened tonight with her roommate, her best friend.
Somewhere along the way, Jeongyeon stopped questioning why Jihyo felt different. Jihyo is just Jihyo. It’s not like there had ever been another option in her mind.
Jihyo takes up space everywhere she goes.
She’s the loudest laugh in the room. The hairties at the bottom of Jeongyeon’s sling bag, the ones she keeps there because Jihyo’s always losing them. The amber notes of perfume that cling to Jeongyeon’s woollen sweater from all the times Jihyo leans against her to nap on the bus ride home from work. Jeongyeon’s been meaning to wash that, actually. She never seems to get around to it.
Under the water, she replays the entire evening over and over. No matter how much, she concludes each time she has no rational reason to be upset.
Jihyo isn’t doing anything wrong. That’s the annoying part.
There’s nothing to be upset about, no reason for this weird heaviness sitting in her chest. Jeongyeon can’t explain it. She just knows she doesn’t like the feeling of it.
And worst of all, Jeongyeon can’t stop seeing things she shouldn’t.
Tanned skin, warmed by lamplight. Jihyo’s mouth again - soft, slightly swollen, pressed against someone’s neck. A hand disappearing beneath a shirt. Fingers tangled in hair.
No, Jeongyeon squeezes her eyes shut. She tries to ground herself, reminding herself of reality. They’re the same hands she’s always known. Playing a guitar, gripping a steering wheel, catching her before she runs away when she’s scared.
Stop.
They’re always warm, Jeongyeon thinks. Somewhat smaller than her own. Slightly calloused, too… Enough.
She spins the tap to cold. The water blasts, biting and unforgiving as ice. She lets it hit her anyway - harsh, unrelenting - until she’s gasping, eyes squeezed shut against the sting.