Hee-do sips on her juice box a little too loudly as she spots Ji-woong snatching glances at her from behind a tree.
“What’s wrong?” Yoo-rim asks. She’s finished her own drink and with nothing left to do, leans her head on Hee-do’s shoulder. From this bench, they’ve got a pretty good view of the school courtyard. Hee-do lets out a small sigh.
It’s their second time hanging out during lunch together, and Hee-do’s gotta say, she could get used to it. Not worrying about bumping into a person you’ve accidentally offended or having to tolerate Yoo-rim’s scathing remarks. It’s a nice change for once.
That being said, Ji-woong is acting… weird about it. Actually, no. Ji-woong and Seung-wan. Hee-do’s been watching them exchange money the past ten minutes, and the two friends seem to keep looking over at her whenever they think she’s not paying attention.
Like, do they think it’s odd? That Yoo-rim and her are spending time together? Sure, Hee-do would’ve found it abnormal a week ago, perhaps might even find it reason enough to go for a medical check-up, but she adapts quickly. Her two classmates, however, apparently do not.
“Ji-woong and Seung-wan. They’re acting all strange around us.” Hee-do whispers, and right there!— she spots Seung-wan gathering a large sum of money into her pocket. “See that? What are they doing?”
Yoo-rim shrugs. Since she’s still leaning against her, the motion makes Hee-do’s entire body shift a little. “Looks like they’re being their usual selves to me.”
Hee-do huffs through her nose, hard. “I think they’re conspiring.”
“What would they even be planning?”
“Dunno. Maybe they think we’ve finally gone nuts now that we’re hanging out.”
Yoo-rim lifts her head to look at Hee-do. “I guess I am,” She jokes.
“Hey! Don’t even think about letting my shoulder go cold.” Hee-do pats her shoulder, and Yoo-rim rolls her eyes before returning back to her previous position.
“It’s fine,” Yoo-rim says as she watches Seung-wan and Ji-woong from afar. “they’re probably just joking around or whatever.”
Hee-do gives a noncommittal hum, but she can’t help but feel her stomach turn uneasily as she watches Seung-wan dart her eyes back to them for just a second.
The next morning, Hee-do finally cracks when she watches Ji-woong toss a couple of coins over to Seung-wan in class for the third time in class.
“Alright, what’s the deal?” Hee-do confronts her two friends when the lunch bell reverberates throughout the classroom.
Ji-woong, who’s just in the middle of reaching his hand inside his bag of chips, almost immediately snaps his head towards Hee-do’s direction. The look in his eyes can only be described as something akin to a rabbit stumbling across a hawk’s nest. In contrast, Seung-wan only flits her eyes over to her as she snags a chip of her own from Ji-woong’s bag.
“What deal?” Ji-woong replies. The tone of his voice would fool Hee-do if he wasn’t staring straight at a nearby wall. Hee-do frowns and steps into his line of sight. Ji-woong predictably shifts his eyes away from her again.
“Okay, this is just suspicious. Are you guys planning a prank? Or running a black market?” Hee-do jabs a finger at Seung-wan, who stares back at her with continued disinterest. “Don’t think I didn’t spot you passing money to Ji-woong yesterday!”
“What’s wrong with passing money to Ji-woong? He could be selling me snacks.”
“Ji-woong couldn’t be selling you things. He’s horrible at accounting.”
Ji-woong finally turns to Hee-do to shoot her an offended look. “Hey!” He protests, right as Seung-wan shrugs and gives a resigned, “True,” cementing Hee-do’s suspicions.
“So what are you guys doing? Why are you leaving me out of it?”
“We’re having a bet,” Seung-wan explains, having given up on maintaining the charade. “It’s got to do with you, and letting you know would ruin the bet. It’s like interfering with the control of the experiment. Can’t have that happening.”
Hee-do frowns. “What’s it about?”
Ji-woong scoffs. “Didn’t she just tell you? We can’t talk about it. Besides, it’s not like she’s gonna win—”
“I would say I’d have a pretty big chance of winning, actually.” Seung-wan counters. “You’re just against me because of personal bias.”
Ji-woong gasps. “I am not!”
“Hold on! What the hell are you guys betting on?”
Seung-wan narrows her eyes. “How would you even know what Yoo-rim likes?”
“How would you? And by the way, I would know plenty myself, since I spend more time than you do with her everyday.”
“Not as much as Hee-do. For the record, I have intel. And if you did know so much about Yoo-rim, you’d probably be dating her or be moving on to another girl by now.”
“Guys, guys, guys, guys.” Hee-do makes a ‘time-out’ sign with her hands. “Is this bet… about me and Yoo-rim?”
“Duh,” Ji-woong crosses his arms. “See, now she knows, and it’s all because you mentioned her name.”
“Alright, fine.” Seung-wan looks at Hee-do. “The truth is— and please don’t make a scene or whatever—”
“I won’t,” Hee-do promises. It’s probably about fencing if it involves her and Yoo-rim.
Seung-wan nods. “Thanks. Because we’re betting on whether you and Yoo-rim will get together by the end of this week.”
Hee-do, unfortunately, proceeds to make a scene.
“Why did you scream in the middle of lunch break?” Yoo-rim asks as she slips into her fencing vest.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Hee-do mutters. She’d been chewed out by her teacher after he walked into class while she was…occupied. Needless to say, she had to stand in the hall with her hands in the air. Yoo-rim had very kindly slipped a note outside the class window and into the hall, asking if she was okay and what had happened. Hee-do couldn’t even respond with a note of her own because 1. she didn't know how she could begin to answer this question, and 2. Hee-do couldn’t really look at every one of her interactions with Yoo-rim in the same light after Seung-wan had just told her that they were betting on them getting together.
“Well, if you think about it, it’s sort of reasonable, right?” Seung-wan explains, although there would probably never be an explanation reasonable enough to calm Hee-do’s hysterical outburst. “You guys grew so close all of a sudden. It’s hard not to speculate.”
Hee-do makes a face. “Speculate what? What’s there to speculate?”
“You two are constantly joined at the hip. Every time Yoo-rim goes to buy a drink, you offer to go down to the nearest vending machine to buy it for her. And then two days ago you two were eating together while staring at each other, like… like…”
“I get it,” Hee-do stammers, even though she’s lying. Because she really doesn’t.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Ji-woong runs a hand through his carefully-groomed hair. “They used to be on bad terms, like, a week ago. How would you go from that to liking each other?”
Seung-wan raises a finger in the air. “That’s actually the fun part. If you actually read Full House, you would know. It’s like Ellie and Ryder. It’s the classic—”
“—enemies to lovers trope.” Hee-do deadpans.
Before Seung-wan can finish, Hee-do screams again.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Yoo-rim stops Hee-do with a hand on her shoulder, jolting her out of her thoughts. The contact is both comforting and all the more terrifying given the current circumstances. “I know we’ve talked about how you’re fine with me being Injeolmi, but I understand if… if it’s still too awkward for you to tell me anything.”
“I’m fine,” Hee-do croaks out, trying desperately to not concentrate on the physical contact Yoo-rim’s just initiated. Physical, platonic contact. God, there’s no way she can ever be in the same room as Yoo-rim ever again. It’s all because of Seung-wan’s confession— stupid, stupid Seung-wan— that she’s overthinking everything right now. And that’s probably it. It’s probably why she’s on the brink of hyperventilation as Yoo-rim stares intently back at her, eyes searching for any hint of discomfort.
Yoo-rim purses her lips, like she wants to say more, but she just gives Hee-do a small smile before leaving. “If you say so,” She responds.
Hee-do definitely doesn't stare at Yoo-rim's back as she walks away. However, she does think about smashing her own head against the nearest locker.
Hee-do thinks she’s had enough. By the time she misses her target for what must be the hundredth time in training, Coach Yang asks her to take a break. And if Hee-do’s training gets to the point where Coach Yang Chan-mi herself has to ask her to take it easy, you know it’s going horrifically bad.
Hee-do leaves her sabre on the floor as she rushes to the nearest restroom. The smell of detergent that greets her is a welcome one; it’s not stuffy and doesn’t remind her of sweat, fencing, and anything to do with Go Yoo-rim. She goes over to the sink and splashes cold water onto her face, determined to shake her mind into clarity once and for all.
She’s in the middle of cupping another handful of water to her face when Yoo-rim decides to walk in. Hee-do inhales sharply, because she’s in the middle of something and it’s generally unexpected for someone to walk in when everyone else is out there training, not because it’s Yoo-rim or anything— but then she remembers she still has a significant amount of water touching her face and the action makes her snort it right up her nose. Hee-do starts to have a coughing fit.
“Are you okay?” Yoo-rim rushes up to her in concern, hand quickly patting Hee-do’s back.
“I’m— I’m alright.” Hee-do hiccups. God, this is so embarrassing. She wonders if she can just die right then and there.
“Actually, I was—” Yoo-rim starts, unsure. “I came to check up on you. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you did pretty bad during fencing today.”
Hee-do nearly laughs. “That’s an understatement.”
“And it's also out of character for you,” Yoo-rim adds, eyes full of worry. “so I was wondering if you could talk to me about it. If… if you want.”
Still bent over the sink, Hee-do looks up at her. Her cheeks had already begun to heat up at the words “And it’s also out of character for you,”, implying that Yoo-rim had already thought highly of her average performance, but there’s also something so immensely comforting about Yoo-rim’s face, intense with concern, hand still on Hee-do back like it’s the only thing tethering her to reality. Yoo-rim’s face also happens to be, wow, like, really pretty, and also oddly symmetrical, which—
“Gah!" Hee-do jumps back, startling the both of them. What am I thinking? She scrambles away from Yoo-rim like she’s on fire. “What— I— um— sorry, I just remembered something really embarrassing.”
Despite Hee-do's best efforts, she seems to be doing anything but tamping down Yoo-rim’s worries right now. Her fencing rival takes a cautious step forward.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Yoo-rim asks, so earnest and so caring and such a contrast from her expected sourness that Hee-do finds herself unable to breathe.
“Mhm,” Hee-do nods aggressively (perhaps a little too aggressively). In a last-ditch effort to excuse herself, Hee-do raises her wrist in front of her face, scrutinising it closely. “Wow, would you look at the time? I think I better head home!”
Yoo-rim tilts her head in confusion. Hee-do realises with horror that she’s not wearing her wristwatch; she’d taken it off prior to training in fear of damaging it. Oh my god Na Hee-do you are the absolute worst at lying. “Um… bye?”
Hee-do doesn’t answer. Instead, she sprints past Yoo-rim and out of the restroom.
Injeolmi: I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I hope you’re okay
Injeolmi: Did I do something?
Injeolmi: Please let me know
Hee-do stares at her computer screen. She’s currently biting at her fingernails, a terrible habit she’s yet to break, and she’s at a complete loss as to what to do.
It’s all Seung-wan’s fault, really. Ever since this morning, Hee-do’s been driving herself insane overthinking every single interaction between her and Yoo-rim. Like, okay, they’ve grown close within a short period of time, but that’s no reason to speculate about a possible… fling.
It’s just disconcerting. Hee-do has to admit that the enemies-to-lovers point Seung-wan brought up was a good argument— Hee-do finds herself falling for these cliches constantly— and yes, she was obsessed with Yoo-rim for a short period of time. A short period of time that lasted a year. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days.
But she’s never even thought about Yoo-rim that way. Sure, she’s her idol, but not, like, the kind that she slobbers over like all the other girls with their boyband posters. Yoo-rim’s the kind of person Hee-do would want to fence with, the kind that she eats lunch with every now and then, not— not whatever Seung-wan’s suggesting.
Hee-do buries her face into the nearest pillow and lets out a silent scream.
Her computer dings with a new notification. Hee-do considers shutting it off for the night, but she’s never been good at avoiding situations she wants to… well, avoid. Slowly, Hee-do peeks over at the screen from her bed, and she catches a glimpse of Yoo-rim’s new message:
Injeolmi: Or is it something you did??
Hee-do screams into her pillow again.
Hee-do quite literally runs into Yoo-rim the next day. They’re doing morning rounds around the track during PE and Hee-do doesn’t look where she’s going. For obvious reasons, she didn’t get much sleep yesterday night.
When she slams into Go Yoo-rim and the both of them tumble to the ground, Hee-do thinks that this might be it. It’s like a final nail in the coffin to finish off a string of extremely unfortunate events, from her getting scolded by her teacher to choking on sink water in the restroom. She’s ready to pass away on the track from sheer embarrassment when Yoo-rim’s annoyingly symmetrical face comes into focus.
“Hey,” Yoo-rim says, extending a hand.
“Hi,” Hee-do takes it, tries not to think about how soft her hand is, tries not to think about anything at all. She pulls herself up and brushes the dust off her shirt. “Sorry about that.”
The two of them stare at the ground for a while. There’s not much in the way of conversation, but the idea of conversation itself seems to tower over them like a looming shadow.
They blink at each other.
Hee-do nods at Yoo-rim. "You go first."
"No, you can go first."
Yoo-rim blinks again. “Well, alright. I wanted to ask if I did anything yesterday to upset you. I talked to all the other fencing team members, and they told me you were acting pretty much normal around them.”
“Oh, um.” Hee-do clicks her tongue awkwardly, just to fill the silence. “Actually, I wanted to talk about that. Yesterday, I found out that…" Oh, fuck it. "Seung-wan and Ji-woong have a bet going on that we end up together.”
Yoo-rim tilts her head, wrinkling her brow. “What?”
“I know, right? It’s so bizarre. I mean, like, we were practically sworn enemies a week ago. And they think we’re going to get together by the end of this week. Isn’t that crazy?”
Hee-do lets out a laugh that borders on hysterical.
The corners of Yoo-rim’s mouth twitch upwards. “Oh, so you were acting off yesterday… because you thought the bet was weird?”
“Isn’t it?” Hee-do continues laughing, then starts to trail off when she realises Yoo-rim isn’t laughing along with her. “We’re close, but not like, that close. Right?”
“I guess so.” Yoo-rim finally releases a chuckle. “I just thought it was kind of funny, is all.”
Loosening at Yoo-rim’s indifference, Hee-do ventures towards cracking a joke to chase the awkwardness away. “Hey, at least they didn’t bet on you marrying a sports car this time round.”
Yoo-rim groans at the recollection.
“I should’ve never told you guys,” Yoo-rim mutters under her breath. She starts jogging away from her, presumably to prevent Hee-do from spouting any more humiliating stories.
Hee-do, satisfied with the normalcy she’s established, only snorts and runs after her. It’s only natural for Yoo-rim to brush it off like it’s no big deal while Hee-do frets about from the sidelines. She’s always been one to care way too much. Maybe that’s the reason behind her outburst earlier and the reason behind the gaping hole that feels close to disappointment growing in her chest right now.
Oh, who is she kidding. Shit.
Yoo-rim attempts to protect herself against Hee-do’s sabre with her own. Luckily for Hee-do, she’s just a bit too slow, and she grabs the opportunity as soon as it presents itself.
They’re fencing against each other at night as per usual, except there’s nothing usual about the way Hee-do finds her eyes lingering on Yoo-rim’s form for a second too long. Luckily, she doesn’t screw up this time around, managing to score a two-point lead against her opponent before Yoo-rim calls for a water break. It’s the first time Hee-do’s felt like something’s gone right today, so she hums a little as she twists the cap off her water bottle.
“I think you need to lean to the left a little bit more,” Hee-do suggests as she gulps down a few mouthfuls of water. “You’re used to swerving towards your dominant side.”
Yoo-rim sighs. “Old habits die hard.”
“You’ll just have to practise.”
“I’d say the same, but it’s hard to practise against a training dummy who doesn’t fight back. And you’re the only one here who can match my strikes.” Yoo-rim says.
Hee-do straightens up immediately. “What’s stopping you? Let’s do it now.”
Yoo-rim opens her mouth to protest. “Really? Don’t you have moves you want to practise on your own—”
“Nah, it’s all good.” Hee-do interrupts. “You take the spot on the left.”
“Right.” Yoo-rim says sheepishly, putting her mask back on. She picks up her sabre and stands with one leg forward. Absentmindedly, Hee-do notes how much her posture has improved ever since the Olympics. She’s gotten a lot harder to read.
“I’m going to attack, and you try to parry, okay?” Hee-do says as she dons her own mask, and Yoo-rim nods. Hee-do marvels at this situation— she never thought she’d find herself teaching fencing techniques to Go Yoo-rim of all people.
Hee-do doesn’t wait a second before she lunges towards Yoo-rim. Yoo-rim freezes and the scoreboard flashes green in Hee-do’s favour.
“The thing about parrying,” Hee-do explains, “is that I usually plan it.”
“Plan?” Yoo-rim asks, and Hee-do can see the way she’s biting her lip in concentration even through their masks.
“You parry by instinct. You can usually get by with that because your offensive moves more than make up for it. But when it comes to defending, you’re still relying on in-the-moment thinking.”
Yoo-rim’s arms go up just a little higher, as if she’s trying to protect some sort of insecurity. “Well, what should I do, then?”
Hee-do returns to her starting point, raising her weapon so it points towards the ceiling. She makes a show of advancing slowly. “You have to do something that triggers them to attack. Maybe give them an opening. Deflect the blade just a bit when you’re moving in, and then they'll attack you.” Hee-do moves along with her words as she’s saying them, mirroring her actions with her speech. She stops when she thrusts her sabre towards Yoo-rim, and Yoo-rim manages to meet her blade with her own.
“So that’s a planned parry.” Yoo-rim breathes. “You anticipate your opponent’s moves by purposefully letting them attack.”
“That’s it.” Hee-do smiles, even though she really has no reason to, since there’s no way Yoo-rim can see her expression in their current state. “There’s no trick to spontaneous parrying, though, so that just comes with training.”
“Guess I learn something new about myself every day,” Yoo-rim quips, playfully mock-attacking Hee-do and scoring a point for herself. “apparently I can parry.”
“Right. Let’s try again a few more times, just to make sure you’ve got it.” Hee-do walks backwards towards her starting position.
Yoo-rim shuffles back, too, causing her to face completely forward. Hee-do realises there’s something different in the way Yoo-rim carries herself now. She’s more relaxed, more controlled. It’s the kind of confidence she’s missed seeing ever since she saw Yoo-rim perform on TV.
“I wonder how you learnt all this,” Yoo-rim says as she gets into her En garde position. “You just entered this school a year ago and you’re already way ahead of me.”
“I thought parrying was just having better reflexes, too.” Hee-do reassures. “Coach Yang just taught me.”
“She told you to anticipate your enemies’ attacks?” Yoo-rim asks, bending her knees.
Hee-do shakes her head. “Not really. I was practising against Coach Yang and she made an offhand comment about how my instincts weren’t good enough for parrying. I thought she was insulting me, but she also made me realise that she was right— I couldn’t rely on pure instinct to parry alone. So I purposefully gave her an opening so every time she attacked, I could defend because I was expecting her moves.” Hee-do feels her heart ache at the memory, a longing for a time when things were simpler and didn’t involve nationwide controversies. “I guess in a roundabout way, she was helping me realise I needed to force an attack instead of waiting for one to happen.”
“That’s smart,” Yoo-rim notes as she begins making her way forward, swiping her blade at Hee-do. “She used reverse psychology to make her teachings work.”
Hee-do can’t help but grin at that. “That’s Coach Yang for you.”
Then suddenly something strikes Hee-do like lightning. Oh my god. That’s exactly what Seung-wan’s doing. She mentioned the wager to get into my head so I overthink everything I do with Yoo-rim and cause her to win the bet.
Wow. That’s actually pretty smart. I can’t even be mad.
It’s too late for Hee-do to back out when she comes to this conclusion, though. She’s already neck-deep with thoughts about how Yoo-rim tends to tilt her head back when facing a strike, how Yoo-rim glances at her opponent and manages to know where they’ll make their next move in the next moment, how Yoo-rim places every step behind her with purpose whenever she’s gearing up for an attack. Regardless of Seung-wan’s interference, Hee-do’s been preoccupied with her from the start.
Hee-do quickly pounces as soon as Yoo-rim beats her sabre. She drives her sabre forward, and her sword’s deflected by Yoo-rim before she can even blink.
“Huh,” Hee-do starts, chest heaving from exertion. Something inside her swells with pride. “Good job.”
“That was different.” Yoo-rim brushes off. “You were distracted.”
Hee-do’s taken aback at Yoo-rim’s coolness, at her being scrutinised so thoroughly— but then she comes to another conclusion. “Oh my gosh, Go Yoo-rim, were you noticing me?”
Yoo-rim breathes a sigh of exasperation. “Shut up.”
“I’m totally flattered, by the way.”
Yoo-rim goes back to her starting point again. She motions for Hee-do to do the same, and she does.
“Pay attention this time,” Yoo-rim warns without any real threat in her voice, drawing her sabre up close.
Hee-do doesn’t mention that she does pay attention when it comes to Yoo-rim. She just lifts her own weapon and waits for Yoo-rim’s cue to start. When she says Allez, the two of them start inching towards one another.
“What are you thinking about anyway? You seem so distracted lately.” Yoo-rim questions, her blade just grazing Hee-do’s. They continue pacing back and forth, dangling over an imaginary tightrope.
“Just thinking about…” Hee-do tries to be as vague as possible. “...recent events.”
“Oh, like that bet?” Unfortunately, Yoo-rim’s too sharp for her own good.
“Something like that,” She admits.
“Are you planning on warning Seung-wan to pull out of the bet now so she doesn’t lose any money?” Yoo-rim jokes, pushing Hee-do’s sabre away with her own.
“No. Actually…” Hee-do swallows, her heart thundering in her ears. “I was thinking that maybe Seung-wan was right.”
It’s Yoo-rim’s turn to be caught off-guard. “About what?”
“About one of us wanting us to be together,” Hee-do says, and she strikes.
Yoo-rim’s weapon clatters to the floor. Next to them, the machine beeps again, signalling that Hee-do’s scored another point. The sound bounces off the walls and inside Hee-do’s head, ringing in her ears so much it practically hurts.
“Hey, you forgot to parry,” Hee-do jokes back, except all the humour’s already bled out of the room and she’s left with Yoo-rim just gaping at her.
“What did you say?” Yoo-rim asks.
“I’m not about to repeat it again,” Hee-do replies plainly, since it’s pretty obvious to the both of them that Yoo-rim’s heard it. She gears herself up to pack her things and leave the room, because the growing quiet that starts to stretch between them, thick and suffocating like taffy, is almost unbearable. Inwardly, she wonders if she can grab her bags and sabre in under two minutes.
“I thought you said it was weird,” Yoo-rim begins. There’s almost a hint of betrayal in her voice.
“Maybe I did think of it that way.” Hee-do mumbles, unable to look at the girl in front of her anymore. “But Seung-wan mentioned it and now I can’t get the idea out of my head. It’s been driving me insane the past two days.” She takes a deep breath. “Anyway, if you’re not into it, we can just pretend this never happened.”
Yoo-rim remains wordless. Out of the corners of her eyes, Hee-do can see Yoo-rim’s hands curling and uncurling.
“Actually,” Yoo-rim pauses. “I think Seung-wan began that bet because—”
Hee-do snaps her head back up. “Because?”
“I told her that I…” Yoo-rim starts chewing on her lip. “I…”
“You told her what?”
Yoo-rim shakes her head.
This time, there’s something else in the air, a thread that spins and spins and trembles to the point of snapping. Hee-do takes a step forward. “What did you tell her?”
Hee-do’s not usually fond of Mondays, but she finds herself walking into class with an odd spring in her step. The movement makes her more jumpy than usual, drawing the eyes of passing classmates, teachers, and eventually Ji-woong and Seung-wan.
“Tell us,” Are the first two words that leave Ji-woong’s mouth. Hee-do can’t help but almost laugh at how he provides no additional context. It’s evident what he's asking for, though, and so is Seung-wan, judging by the expectant look in her eyes.
“We are not together,” Hee-do says simply, bouncing past her two friends and towards her seat. Behind her, she hears Ji-woong’s triumphant “Yes!” and Seung-wan’s puzzled “Huh? Really?” as she settles down for the day. Hee-do keeps herself busy by reading the words on the chalkboard. She can’t seem to concentrate on any of them.
There’s an algebra test today. When her teacher’s finished distributing the papers, Hee-do jots down the answers with incredible ease. She checks the paper once, twice, and then a third time to make sure all her option 4s are coloured in, and raises her hand for a restroom break. Despite the questioning look the teacher shoots at her, Hee-do’s allowed to leave as long as she’s back in five minutes, please.
Not much time, then, Hee-do thinks, and sprints out of the class into the nearest toilet.
The sixth cubicle is clean and smells vaguely of some floral deodorant. It’s also the last one, situated right at the back of the restroom. Hee-do waits for a few moments and rocks on her heels to pass the time.
Someone knocks on the door. Hee-do opens it quickly.
When Yoo-rim bursts into the cramped space, it takes everything in Hee-do to not let out a whoop of joy. She leans in for a quick kiss, a not so quick kiss, then a kiss that most definitely lasts for more than twenty seconds.
Hee-do grins giddily when they part to breathe, leaning their foreheads together. “Y’know, I should really thank Seung-wan.”
“You literally made her lose the bet,” Yoo-rim says flatly.
“Maybe I'll get around to it one of these days. I still wanted to get my revenge against her for disrupting my sleep schedule.”
“You’re awful,” Yoo-rim responds, but she’s smiling as Hee-do presses another kiss to her cheek.