정은지

“So you’re having a bad day,” she says slowly, the gears in her head tinkering together to make something of an idea. “I bet I can fix that. But you can’t go to work if I do.” It’s a little like the situation she’d had with Jae, though, and she doesn’t want to make promises she can’t keep, or ones that make someone feel a sort of way that she doesn’t intend. “I just mean -- I don’t know, this place is kind of awesome, and if you’re a librarian then you probably don’t see a lot of it, just stay cooped up among a bunch of books?” It’s a suggestion, and she hopes she’s not going too far with it, but she’s met a few of his kind before -- the sort that don’t see the world because they’d rather read about it in a storybook. She doesn’t understand, would rather experience things with her own eyes, ears, nose, skin. 

“shhh.” she attempted to silence her, stopping her from apologizing. a sheepish smile in assurance forms on her lips. “there’s nothing to be sorry about.” she pulled her hand away from the latter’s hold, letting her both hands graze against the younger’s cheek fondly, her pair of orbs staring directly into hers. “i like it.. actually.” she said, more of a whisper since she was shy to admit it.

“you still don’t mind, do you?” she asked hesitantly. but even though it was a question, still, she did not waited for an answer. instead, she leaned closer, capturing her lips with her own and closing the gap in between them.

Everything stops, though, when Moonbyul leans down and kisses her again. This time it’s a long, sweet gesture, with Eunji reaching up to curve her palm against the other’s cheek, thumb over the hollow beneath her eye in a show of tenderness. It’s surprising, she thinks, just how affectionate she can be with someone she’s only just met, but the fact of the matter is that she can, that she feels a certain sort of intimacy with Moonbyul that she couldn’t duplicate with anyone in her life.

Truth be told? She feels closer to this girl than she does to some of her closest friends in the world. And the idea is welcoming, of course -- she’s not completely lacking in compassion, to the point that she doesn’t want to be close with anyone -- but at the same time a bit repellent, as if she doesn’t know how to connect to people in her life.

Moonbyul will be the first person with whom she stays close, she decides, pulling the girl in for another kiss, another series of whispers of lips against lips, of soft touches and daring teases of tongue across the bow of the other’s upper lip. Mostly just to test the waters.

When Eunji pulls away she gazes long and lazy into the girl’s eyes, one eyebrow raised, a lazy grin pulling across her own mouth. “You didn’t strike me as the shy type at first, you know that?” she teases, reaching up and tweaking Moonbyul’s nose between her finger and thumb. “Maybe it’s because you’re so gorgeous, but I fully expected your confidence to outdo mine in a matter of seconds.”

Again with the compliments? She sure does like to lay it on thick.

“Anyway,” she continues on, “if you’d like, I have a favourite spot down by this pond nearby, if you want to go see it. I don’t know how your kind feel about eating food, but I brought a serious feast and there’s no way I’m going to eat it all.” In honesty, she brings extra food every night, just in case someone is starving, wandering her woods. But there’s no need for Moonbyul to know every detail. Something about how Eunji doesn’t want to show her weakness to everyone she meets. “I’m quite hungry, and I would deeply appreciate it if you would join me.” 

byul wasn’t so sure where this sudden urge to kiss other, maybe because she looks so peaceful, and so beautiful—she realized it quite late that she was admiring the latter’s face up this close. maybe it was the overwhelming feeling that made her want to taste those lips. and she wasn’t even aware that she was leaning in closer… closer… closer…. until her face a few centimeters apart from hers, eyelids shut tight. but she abruptly paused. and she seemingly drawn back to reality once more, surprised of what she was currently – or was about to do. “i—“ she finds it hard to reason out, to find something to say at this awkward state. she wasn’t even sure if the latter was awake.

she never leaned back though, her face was still a few centimeters apart from eunji. somehow, she liked the proximity. byul looks up—and into the flowers she was holding before she slowly reached out to hold the latter’s hand fondly, interlacing her delicate fingers against eunji’s before she had pulled eunji’s busy hands away from the flowers while her other hand pulled away the flowers she was knitting.

“if you’re tired, you can take a break. don’t force yourself.” she spoke, her gaze diverting back into eunji’s face.

She doesn’t mean to be, but she’s overjoyed right now, in the calmest sense of the word. Her heart thuds steady and soft against the inside of her ribcage, and her stomach flutters, and she thinks she could faint this way, resting inside this other girl’s arms.

With a quiet sort of sigh she stretches, back arching, chest reaching upwards, and takes a long minute to count the vampire’s eyelashes, one, two, three... The idea makes her smile broader than anything she’s done tonight. Of course, she’s a bit of a hog for attentions and affections, so this level of closeness is making her heart race with excitement.

“You can kiss me, you know,” she says simply, closing her eyes again when she flops down into Moonbyul’s lap. She squeezes said vampire’s hand, cutting tenderly against the other’s skin with the curve of her thumbnail, scritching the hangul for her name against the pale surface of Moonbyul’s flesh. 

After doing this for a brief period, Eunji lets out a long humming sound. “You don’t have to give me anything, you know,” she says quietly, so soft, in fact, that she can’t be sure she’s actually gotten the words out of her mouth. “Your company is more than enough for me. Especially if you plan to use your gift to spend time with me.” She’s reluctant to use the word date, even if that might be what it is -- she’s never really dated, a point of contention with her, something that keeps her up at night and causes her deep embarrassment. “That’s more than enough. Plus, you’re so beautiful that just to look at you is a gift in and of itself.” The corners of Eunji’s mouth curl up into a wicked sort of smirk, and she knows Moonbyul is still very, very close to her, so she reaches up with her free hand -- letting her flower necklace rest on her belly -- and twines a strand of the other girl’s hair around her finger, tugging her in, closing the gap between them.

The anticipation is the best part, she thinks, the waiting for a kiss that might not even happen. But Eunji doesn’t have the full patience to enjoy it.

So she drops her touch from Moonbyul’s hair, reaches up and cups the back of her neck, tugging her down just that little bit more so that when Eunji opens her eyes she can aim properly and press her lips against the other girl’s.

Anticipation is overrated, anyway.

The kiss itself is quick, more a daring show of lips upon lips than a lingering gesture, and when she pulls back Eunji slowly opens her eyes, eyebrow raising until they’re hidden by her fringe. “I’m sorry, I just--” 

however, each exam had an unreasonably low outlier.

that outlier being a a student, jung eunji, and that score, a 34, 30 points lower than what was the lowest score on his bell curve. the first time eric saw that grade, he choked on his coffee and asked himself how the hell it happened before looking at the student’s test. the student had scribbled out all of the five possible answers and then put, and eric quotes, ‘f. YOUR TEST DOES NOT MATTER TO ME, MERE HUMAN’.

needless to say that after that, he wasn’t surprised as to why she got such a low score.

however, this was the second time that this shenanigan had happened. so to (hopefully) stop this from happening again, the professor called her into his office whenever she was free. and here she was. 

“hey there,” eric starts, a smile adorning his lips before raising his brows at her next action.

“well. its a 34. and i’d really love to talk with you about it.”

pause, he looks at the exam and then back at her.

It takes a great effort to keep from sighing at the question, from doing something uncouth.

“No,” she insists, stepping further into the office, her hands tucked neatly behind her back so as to hide the magic, borne of rage, twinkling between her fingers. “I did not freeze up. I just think that, as someone who’s spent a lot of time in nature, I should probably be as honest as I possibly can. Especially when you’re discussing ecosystems at large. I don’t think you understand how they really work.”

What? It’s a completely legitimate suggestion, as far as she’s concerned. Of course, this is coming from an individual who hasn’t made a lecture in at least three weeks. Perhaps he has improved.

In any case, she doesn’t feel rude, and continues on with a slight roll of her eyes. “For example, food? Doesn’t work in a chain. Sometimes creatures even eat one another, as opposed to the next level down. And relationships between organisms are rarely so lacking in complexity as to have only one label at a time.” She huffs, shaking her head, as if the answer were obvious. “Maybe I should just, you know, help you out a little. I know you’re a teacher and everything, but you have to really spend your life in nature to understand it. Biology’s easy enough as long as you’re paying attention, which, according to your science, you’re not.”

He does, however, tilt his head a bit to the side, looking almost like a puppy, “Is baking fun? I never really did it myself but it sounds nice… plus, under all of that vanilla you smell a little bit like flowers.”

Jaeho stops, a tad embarrassed and even more so shocked that he let that slip. Making such a detailed observation wasn’t exactly normal and unfortunately he wasn’t quick to realize that before the words had already left his mouth. 

At his question, she tilts her head, humming loudly, contemplating the answer long and hard before actually responding. “I guess I like baking,” she decides aloud, “it pays the bills and it keeps my roommate and I fed.” It’s hard not to mention the boxes of cupcakes she brings home every night, the fifteen pounds she’s put on since starting work there, but that’s neither here nor there. She bites her lip on the inside to keep it from happening.

She’s about three seconds from whipping out her phone and showing him the photos she’s taken of her hanging glass bubbles filled with tiny greens -- she’s way more excited about flowers than she is about muffins, after all --when the bus rolls up. She stands, stretches her legs, and turns back to him. “We’re going to the same place, right? I’ll sit with you if you want. And I can always help you figure out where to find a job. If worse comes to worst, you can always come apply at the bakery I work at. Or the coffeehouse across the street. We could be like competition.”

The way he talks about his allowances mimics an elementary student saving spare quarters to buy plastic rings from toy capsule vending machines. Such simple things bring him delight; it’s both heartbreaking and refreshing in a materialistic world. “If I have extra, sometimes I even buy candy for myself,” he adds. A bashful smile follows those words, but soon fades when he senses her held back tears.

“Of course not, but I really wanted to,” he says, “That’s how much all of this means to me.” He was a young man who had absolutely nothing, not even the right to his own body and mind, but such a small thing brought him to his knees. Something as silly – something so insignificant to most – as a few bites of sweets had him kissing her hand in gratitude, as if…

“Nobody’s ever done something like that for me before.”

He hobbles along otherwise undeterred by his broken ankle if it weren’t for the subtle clench of his jaw every three steps. Yonghwa moves forward with bleary eyes and xylophone ribs, just as he’s always done. The merman stops his struggle to return the favor from earlier; strong, calloused hands cupped her chin ever so gently so she could look at him. He has storyteller eyes, a soulful brown with flickers of adventure and spirit building inside a statuesque body. His gaze has heat – intense, strong, and completely focused on the person he makes a connection with. It was the look of someone who cared so deeply, it showed without a single word. It was the look of someone meant to protect, who could brush a thumb over one’s cheek to sweep away tears. He does sweep his thumb over her rosy cheek. There’s nothing there but invisible tears, but he catches them nevertheless.

“You must have a very kind heart,” he says softly, “You know, you’re one of those people who are just like the sun. There’s really warm – you can’t help but look up and smile. I really am happy and…you really did deserve all of that. So don’t be upset, my lady.”

It’s his natural instinct to care. It was, after all, what he’d been born and raised to do. He’s brushed stray locks of hair behind a crying princess’ ear so many times, he doesn’t think twice about doing it to Eunji. Finally, the merman’s smile bounces back into something more lighthearted and cheerful.

“It’ll take awhile for me to overdose on sugar,” he teased, “I have almost four hundred years to catch up on. It’s really difficult eating bland foods for so long when you have a monster-sized sweet tooth.”

Yonghwa repeats and endless cycle of the address inside his thoughts, but he’s worried that he’ll mess up reading the signs when the time comes. He preferred having the written directions to hold up to buildings and signs, all for the sake of finding the perfect match. “Do you think you could write it down for me?” he blurts, “I don’t want to forget because that would…well, that would suck.”

The tension in his shoulders drop with his laugh.

“Obviously I don’t know you, but if your salary only makes you two glasses of wine a week, shouldn’t you be worried about bigger things than trinkets?”

Then, realising how harshly her words could be interpreted, Eunji bites hard into her lower lip, stopping any more uncouth words from popping out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to sound like I’m judging. I’m not. I’m really not! It’s just that you need things in order to survive in this world.” She pauses briefly, unsure of how to phrase her next question, and in the end just going for it. “How long have you lived...well, up here? On land?”

She can’t take him home. The last unfortunate child she met in the forest was one she’d taken home, and though she doesn’t regret her decision -- up to this point, anyway -- she knows she can’t bring everyone home that needs it, no matter how dire their situation.

Although, there is a pretty cozy spot on her couch where he could sleep, if only for the night...

No. Eunji shakes the idea out of her mind as soon as it appears, continuing on with the conversation. Except...she doesn’t know how, because he’s so sweet, so genuine, and she doesn’t know how to take his compliments. They come from a place that she can’t even name, and she doesn’t know if she’s ever expressed herself so clearly as he does in that moment. She lets him brush her hair over her ear, knowing not the intent behind it but enjoying the gesture nonetheless. It’s at that moment that she’s stricken with a strange sense of deja vu, as if she has taken comfort in him somehow before. For a brief moment she thinks to mention it to him, to see if perhaps she has sparked the same curiosity in him that he has in her, but then bites back the need to do so in favour of enjoying this moment for what it is. Though she had been the one to save him, he is clearly in the business of saving her, at least as far as her sanity goes.

Finding work here was admittedly difficult, but he was sure he would face the same consequences everywhere else.

“And it’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s only been a little over a week, my apartment’s still a mess though.” He says with a smile, eyes forming crescents before he eyes her apron. “And I’m guessing you bake for now?” 

She finds herself somewhat enchanted at his struggles with his family, at his passion, and smiles brightly when he speaks on dancing, on how it makes him feel. She hasn’t yet found that thing that she loves to do, her calling, so to speak; if she has one as of yet it’s probably pranking humans, which isn’t something that can be considered a profession, to her great disappointment. “That’s great, though, finding the thing you love doing.” She shakes off his compliments; she’s not horribly smart -- and the image of her remedial math class, the room filled with equally as slow students struggling their way through various problems, flashes through her mind again -- and definitely not worthy of the things he says of her. “I’m alright. I just like reading and writing and stories.” 

He gives a faint smirk, thumbs that were tracing circles into her shoulders now pressing firmly, probably border-lining uncomfortable. ‘ Oh I’m not telling you HOW to feel darling, I’m just suggesting. ’ He murmurs faintly, eyes narrowing at her words. Fingers trailing to her scalp, they entangle in her hair, pulling the roots firmly with minute aggression. ‘ There’s no need to get rude now. We’ve discussed how much your MOUTH can get you into trouble, haven’t we? ’ He releases her with a tick of annoyance, standing up straight.

When she’s finished she dries off slowly, brushes out her hair, working the tangles out of it with a gentle hand. She doesn’t want to end up with a bald spot, although the stress of her current situation threatens to do that to her anyway. Then she goes back to the bedroom where she’d been held captive just a brief half hour before and dresses herself in the clothes provided for her. “I’m almost ready,” she calls out, unsure as to why she feels the need to clarify things for him. Mostly she’s just looking forward to the hot cup of tea. For a half-second she entertains the thought of burning him with it, but then realises that it probably wouldn’t hurt him as much as she’d like to think.

                                                          ●  ●  ●

once the silence barrier was once again broken, she diverted her gaze back to the other. she finds herself flustered once more. the compliment caught her off guard, really. “thank you.” she answers genuinely. she didn’t really deserve this much compliments to begin with, she felt rather overwhelmed… but who does it sound so pleasant to the ears, not to mention that was it was coming from a girl she adores. “i hope you don’t mind if i ask but – are you always like this? do you, like, compliment people very often?” she asks. there was a subtle disappointment in her eyes, though she haven’t heard the answer yet.

“also, how many days do they last?” she asks, her gaze diverting into the flowers she was tying. “i wanna know how many days i have before it wilts. how many possible days i can spend with you.” and once again, her gaze fell into the latter’s face. she finds herself staring at her fondly, a soft smile gracing her lips. 

Is Eunji asking Moonbyul out on a date? She doesn’t frame it that way, hasn’t dated in her entire lifetime, although she’s had romances here and there throughout the course of her two hundred years of existence. She doesn’t know herself if she’s asking anyone out to anything, save for a little time together in the light of day. Things are just so much more fun under the sun, or so Eunji believes, and she wants this girl to enjoy these things as well, especially considering the fact that she can’t under normal circumstances.

In short, Eunji wants to show Moonbyul a whole different world, one she probably hasn’t experienced in quite some time, if her current state of being is any indication.

She finds her mind is riddled with questions for the other female now, and she watches her with curious eyes. “You’re not offended if I suppose I technically am asking you on a date?” she questions, smiling despite herself. “Because I would hate to offend you.” She means it more than she has with anyone in quite some time, which surprises her; she’s typically a person who can be genuine with strangers, even ones who dislike her, indicated by a previous interaction just the other day. 

As Moonbyul’s eyes trail off into the sky, Eunji follows her gaze, mouth falling open into a perfectly round ‘o’. “The moon is lovely, it’s true,” she confesses, tracing the curve of it with her stare. “It’s nice to be out on a chilly night such as this and lie in the grass and watch the stars interact with the moon. But there’s something so...forgiving about the sun. She always keeps us warm and well-lit and makes sure we can see everything in our path.” And Eunji giggles softly, reaching out with one hand to stroke her thumb along Moonbyul’s knuckles. “I imagine you haven’t been in the sun’s company much over the last however many years you’ve been around. And I promise I have enough manners not to ask how many years that is. But I know that if I were doomed to the moon for the rest of my life, I’d want to see the sun a few more times, just for the satisfaction of doing so. If you don’t think so, then I’m sorry for presuming, but...that’s how I feel about it, so.”

At Byul’s question, Eunji perks up. “Hm?” Eunji looks up from the task of making knots between the nimble fingers of one hand, eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead. “Oh, um...I’m not sure. I think a week or so. Mine usually last that long, anyway. You’re lucky you caught me on the night I’m making new ones.” She smiles softly at that, a private joke between she and herself. It’s not as if she wouldn’t have made one for Moonbyul, but she’s already made herself several days’ worth of different ones in which she can go out, so another is no trouble. “I’m lucky that I met you when I was making them,” she adds after a beat, “that I could give you such a gift.”

In that quick moment, Eunji’s heartbeat speeds up somewhat, and she is overcome with the urge to kiss Moonbyul’s soft-looking mouth, but she restrains herself, telling her instincts that there are better times, better places, better lives during which to do such a thing. It’s easier to be in love, for this moment, for this brief part of time, than to act on something she doesn’t know for sure will work. So she draws her knees up under her, curling in on herself, and lays down, her head in Moonbyul’s lap, still working at the knots in her flower necklace as if she’s going to finish it anytime soon. She wants it to be perfect, but she’s so overwhelmed with the need to be close to this girl, this vampire, this beautiful danger lurking in her forest, that she wants her gift to be absolutely perfect. 

“I didn’t mean to do that it just… happened.”

A sorry excuse but unfortunately it’s the honest truth.

Before he manages to make a deeper hole for himself in less than five minutes, Jaeho takes in a breath to relax and collect himself. It could have been worse, honestly, she could have hit him, he’s a little surprised that she hadn’t. At least there was a tiny bit of light in all of this… from his perspective, of course.

She’s spilling forward with tons of words without even meaning to, flashing her most brilliant smile, mostly in an effort to make up for her previous rudeness. It’s not like her to start off her day in a way that would hurt someone’s feelings, after all. If she’s uncomfortable, after all, he must feel twice as much of that, considering he’s the one who’d accidentally started it. 

Yonghwa switches between personas so quickly, he’s an anomaly to those unaware of underwater culture. He effortlessly moves from a relaxed, borderline obscene way of speech to the proper words of an equally proper servant. The merman tests his weight, but his leg jerks up like a pelican balancing on a post once he feels the sting. If he remembers to grit his teeth, the foot is relieved enough for him to hobble on. “It should heal right up once if I soak it in water,” he says tenderly. His shoulders hunch up in surprise when she cups his chin, and a wave of emotions crash at him full force. It’s a teasing little thing to get his attention, but his mother had always used the same trick.

“You’ll really let me eat there?” he asks, “I don’t want you to think that I’m some charity case, you know. I mean, serving the royal family is an honor. You shouldn’t feel like you have to pity me.” The halfhearted attempt to salvage his pride is obliterated the more he imagines row upon row of lemon squares, enough to make up for weeks of crumb dinners.

“Thank you so much, my lady,” he says. His words rush together in his effort to give gratitude as quickly as he can, and he bows over in respect. “There’s nothing I can give you but my gratefulness,” he says, “I don’t have any material belongings, nor money or property. But…I’m forever in debt to the kindness you’ve shown me.” With that, he kneels down – his good leg supporting his weight, of course – and delicately takes the faery’s hand. He presses a chaste kiss on her dainty knuckles before lowering his head a final time.

Each show of respect is rehearsed like clockwork.

But the blush on his cheeks is an original.

With careful eyes, she watches his reaction to her magics, not wanting to scare him off -- she doesn’t know hardly anyone well enough to gauge their reactions to being healed. Some are afraid of the technique; she’s pleased to see Yonghwa isn’t one of them. She is, however, dismayed to find that the solution could’ve been much simpler, and is about to suggest taking a hike down to her favourite spring, but it probably wouldn’t do anything for someone accustomed to the healing power of sea salt. Instead she forces a grin, waggles her eyebrows. “Anything so long as you feel better!” she declares, arcing upwards on her tiptoes and clapping him on the shoulder, careful not to knock him off balance by going too hard. 

It is nothing to her, to be so kind to him, which is why she blushes a bold shade of crimson when he kisses her hand, shows her genuine respect and gratitude. She’s not used to people saying ‘thank you’, just does what she does and goes on her way, so for someone to go this far... She can’t even bring herself to think of it. “You don’t have to go through all that,” she murmurs, her lips barely moving, mouth gummed together by the threat of tears that wells up inside her.

She isn’t the best at what she does, nor is she the kindest -- her tongue is too sharp at times, too probing, her intentions not pure enough -- but the fact that someone could be thankful for her is the entire reason she shows kindness to strangers. It’s the same thing that had prompted her to kill the hunter chasing after this Yonghwa.

“Just remember the address,” she says softly, looking away with a hand at her chest. “I promise I’ll feed you whatever I can. And you don’t worry about repaying me, it’s my pleasure to take care of you.”

It’s a truth she spouts often, but she rarely means it as much as she does right now.