#almost love

Characters : Im Nayeon, Hirai Momo

Synopsis : Nayeon turned 30 and forgot what it was like to love Momo, until it was too late. She could've loved Momo but she's out of time in this lifetime because she was scared. Momo is too. But she doesn't know that. [3.2K words]

Tags : Angst, Emotional Hurt, Nostalgia, Coming of Age vibes, Iris - Goo Goo Dolls, The Man Who Can't Be Moved - The Script, Ribs - Lorde, The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

Author's Notes : Ouch. Yeah it hurt me too. Bring my parents back together I beg. Moral of the story: don't be like NaMo here! Live like there is no tomorrow -> because there isn't. Youth is never coming back. Love who you want to love and do what you want to do ❤︎

Nayeon huffed as she tries to pull her thermal wear from the depth of her drawers, something she hasn’t used in ages. 

Well, it was her fault that she had to use it anyway since she had the absolutely brilliant idea of hiking up Namsan in December. 

She mentally cursed herself for not thinking through this properly. She could’ve been warm and cozy indoors cuddled up with Kookeu but nope! She will be hiking up Namsan in sub 10 degrees.

She fell on the floor with a grunt, finally having managed pull the thermal shirt out. 

Great. 

At least there was going to be Momo she figures — aka the sole reason she’s not cancelling this whole idea right now. 

She had texted Momo about 20 minutes ago, asking if she’s still up to climb up Namsan and Momo unfortunately replied with a yes instead of a: “No unnie, I would rather stay indoors.” 

So here she was, sat in the middle of her closet with a white thermal undershirt in her hands and to her left, a green sweatshirt and her thickest coat she can find. 

A buzz from her phone snapped her out of her thoughts. Momo: “Hey I’m on the way! ETA in 20 minutes :)”  5:29PM

Shit. 

Nayeon quickly stood herself up and grabbed her clothes and headed off to change. 

Momo arrived 25 minutes later and Nayeon slid into the Porsche quickly, desperate to get away from the cold of the carpark. 

“Hey unnie sorry I’m lat- woah who carries an Hermes to hike Namsan??” 

Nayeon shot her a stink eye as she reached for the seat belt.

“Me. I’ll carry it myself don’t worry.” 

Momo just laughs and Nayeon finds her heart doing a flip at the series of laugh that warms her heart. 

“Sure unnie, that bag is going to end up on my shoulder like 15 minutes into the hike.” Momo comments as she steps on the accelerator. 

The drive is quiet and comfortable, a song playing softly on the radio and the city whizzing past them. 

They stop at a red light and Nayeon looks out the window and blows on it, fogging up a part of the window. 

She licks her lip and draws a heart, humming in glee after she’s done. 

“Is that for me?” 

Nayeon hears Momo chime from behind her, clearly amused. 

“No, it’s for myself~” 

Momo giggles again. 

“Sure, thanks unnie.” 

Nayeon rolls her eyes and continues drawing a series of hearts even after the light turned green. 

When Nayeon finally grows bored enough, she settles back in her seat and turns to look at Momo, eyes focused on the road and hand steady on the wheel. 

A lump forms a little in her throat. 

If you told younger Nayeon that the ever clumsy Momo would be the one driving her around one day, she’d probably call you crazy. 

But here she is now, seated in the gunshot seat of Momo’s white Porsche has been everytime for the past 3 years. 

As she got lost in her thoughts, they arrived at their destination and Momo swiftly pulls into a lot in one try. 

“You wish you could do that huh” Momo says with a grin as she turns off the ignition. 

“Huh?” Nayeon responds as she came back to reality. 

Momo stares at her abit before waving her hands around a little, causing Nayeon to frown. 

“…Floaty. Yeah! You’re floaty today.” Momo blurts out as she finally found the word she was looking for. 

Nayeon shoves her shoulder weakly and unbuckles her seat belt. 

“I’m just tired. Quit teasing or my bag is going to end up on your shoulder right now.” Nayeon retorts as she shoots Momo a look. 

Momo just sticks out her tongue and grabs her bag, before getting out of the car.

Nayeon notices a paper bag that Momo shoves into her bag but makes no comment about it. 

The hike starts out easy, their idol stamina easily powering them through the first few dozens of stone steps but by the time they hit the 15 minute mark, the cold starts getting to them and Nayeon is already sniffling like there’s no tomorrow and her bag is indeed on Momo’s shoulder.

They make it a little further to the halfway point and Nayeon surrenders, calling for a break as they make it to an observatory deck.

There aren’t much people here, which Nayeon wasn’t exactly surprised by. Most people would go for the decks all the way at the top.

They crash on a bench and pants, cold breaths visible in the night air. 

“The next time…. you wanna… go hiking in winter… Do not. I repeat do not, call me.” Momo huffs as she takes off her cap and leans back on her arms, trying to catch her breath. 

Nayeon takes off her own cap too and flinches a little at the gust of cold wind that blew across her face. 

“Hey! You didn’t reject me even when I checked with you again! I would’ve loved to stay indoors too.” Nayeon whines and looks over to Momo, who despite all of the groaning and complaining, is actually…. smiling? 

The pale neon lights of the city is reflected on her face, in her eyes as they sparkle. 

Nayeon’s heart stutters. 

“I don’t think I have ever said no to your plans.” Momo comments as she turns to look at Nayeon, nose scrunching a little at the cold. 

Nayeon huffs and looks away out into the city skyline instead, 

“That’s a lie. You do say no to my crazy ideas sometimes~” 

“Yeah because the last time I said no, it’s because you wanted to try fishing and I actually get seasick!” Momo whines.

They bicker back and forth a little more before they eventually fall into comfortable silence and Nayeon gets up, heading to the railing and leaning against it. 

Momo joins her and cuddles right up to Nayeon. 

“It’s been awhile huh.” Momo says softly. 

Nayeon nods and sticks closer to Momo. 

The last time they came to Namsan together was nearly 6 years ago. 

“It still sure is beautiful though.” Nayeon comments and sighs, white breath curling into the cold night. 

Momo turns to see her, face pale and nose a little red from all of the sniffling and cold, but eyes sparkling with all of the lights Seoul ever could hold.

“It is.” 

Nayeon doesn’t realise what Momo meant as she was busy reaching into her bag to find her wired earphones. 

She offers one side to Momo when she finds it and Momo accepts it, not expecting the tune that came through. 

Iris. 

The song that Nayeon sung for her years ago in their apartment, late at night with the Han River gleaming in the back. 

“I almost forgot what it felt like to be… free. Kinda.” Nayeon’s soft, deep voice draws her back to the moment. 

Momo smiles at the tone of Nayeon’s voice, one that she hasn’t heard in awhile — unguarded. Where she doesn’t feel the need to act bubbly or cheerful. 

“Yeah, same. It’s been like what? 4 years?” Momo replies. 

“5. and then some.” Nayeon states. 

A beat. 

“Right.” 

Nayeon looks over to Momo now, who happened to still be looking at her. 

‘And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight’

Momo’s eyes are deep and reflective, a look that she never had years before. 

Her fringe is also now long and thin — something that she has been trying to get rid of instead of holding on to. 

Momo’s face is much thinner, jaw line much sharper and cheeks more sunken. 

“I think you are pretty when you’re fuller.” Something Nayeon had said in their 2wice date. 

That was a lie. Momo is pretty to her all the time. Especially right now. 

Nayeon is about to say something when Momo suddenly retracts abit and starts digging around in her bag. 

“Momo what-“ 

Before Nayeon can finish her sentence, Momo pulls out the paper bag from earlier with a grin and offers it to Nayeon. 

“I figured you may crave it.” Momo says as she pushes the paper bag into Nayeon’s hands. 

Nayeon opens the bag gingerly and gasps a little at what she sees inside. 

“Chocolate Red Bean Bunggeopang?!” Nayeon exclaims as she looks back up to Momo.

Momo smiles and her nose scrunches a little, clearly happy at Nayeon’s reaction,

“Yeah! I tried making it and I think it tastes similar to back then.” 

Nayeon stares at Momo in disbelief. 

She quickly fishes it out and takes a bite, the familiar flavours flooding her tongue. 

“Is it good?” Momo quickly checks, a little anxious whether Nayeon likes it or not. 

Nayeon chews slowly, her chews slowing.

“Yeah.” She manages to say. 

Momo frowns a little at her tone. 

“Are you sure? If it’s not nice you can-“

Nayeon shakes her head as she swallows, looking down at the Bunggeopang overflowing with red bean paste. 

“No. It’s so good that I’m a little sad.” 

Momo tilts her head not understanding Nayeon's sentiment.

It was the spring of 2020, right in the middle of Covid restrictions where the entire world stopped in their tracks, including Twice’s. 

Nayeon and Momo decided to go hike Namsan since there wouldn’t be much people. 

Momo had packed a simple picnic for them, including the Chocolate Red Bean Bunggeopang that was one of Nayeon’s crazy suggestions. Still, Momo has never rejected Nayeon. 

They hiked up Namsan, making it to the halfway point before surrendering and sitting down on the same observatory deck they were on now. 

The sun was just starting to set over the horizon as they laid out their picnic mat on the empty deck and sat down side by side as they faced the city. 

They ate and they laughed freely, one of the most freeing moments they’ve had since debut. 

There was nobody to watch them, no cameras in their faces, no managers hovering nearby. 

It was just them. Their half-finished picnic. The falling cherry blossoms petals that fell onto Momo’s hair and Nayeon’s sleeve.  And the cityscape of Seoul as windows lit up one by one, until the nightscape glittered before them.

Nayeon bit into the warm bunggeopang, red bean filling sweet on her tongue, and let out a small hum of contentment. The next word slipped out easily. Perhaps too easily.

“I wish we weren’t idols.” 

The second it left her mouth, a weird kind of silence fell over them. 

“That’s… yeah. Me too.” Momo replies in a breath barely louder than the spring breeeze.

She hesitated, eyes fixed on the skyline, then added quietly, almost like she was afraid to disturb the moment. “If you had a next life, what would you do?”

Nayeon didn’t answer right away. 

She watched a petal land on Momo’s knee, traced the outline of the buildings glowing below, listened to the soft melody of Iris playing from her phone. For a brief second, everything she’d ever been — trainee, idol, performer… felt very far away and the very last thing she wanted. 

Then she turned slightly, pressing her cheek more firmly into Momo’s warm shoulder.

“Loving you.”

For once, Momo didn’t laugh or cringe at the word like she usually does on camera. Instead, she tilted her head slightly to nuzzle into the crown of Nayeon’s head and replied softly and gently.

“You can love me now.”

It was gentle but Nayeon felt the words hit her chest like a bullet anyway. 

She straightened almost immediately, pulling her head back from Momo’s shoulder as if she’d touched something too hot, laughing a little too quickly.

“Yah,” she said, nudging Momo’s arm weakly. “What are you saying? You’re so cheesy all of a sudden.”

She focused on the bunggeopang in her hands, red bean paste spilling out, anything to avoid looking at Momo’s face and into her eyes at this moment. 

Anything to avoid the terrifying calm in her own chest, the way part of her wanted to say yes without thinking, without fear, without real world consequences.

Momo didn’t push. She never did. She only watched as Nayeon tried blinking away some tears. 

Nayeon swallowed painfully. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to love Momo now.

It was that she couldn’t.

Because loving Momo meant danger. 

It meant headlines and whispers, it meant scrutiny sharp enough to cut into Momo’s softness, into her gentleness, into the future Nayeon wanted so badly to protect.

Nayeon loved Momo more than herself.

That was the problem.

Loving her meant putting Momo first, even above her own happiness and desires.

It meant imagining Momo years from now, free, smiling, unburdened by illicit affairs that weren’t hers to carry. 

It meant choosing restraint over desire, silence over honesty, distance over the closeness she craved every time Momo reached for her without thinking.

“I’m just saying,” Nayeon continued as lightly as she could, “We’re tired. We’re sentimental because it’s nice out.”

Her voice didn’t quite match her words.

Momo finally spoke again, her tone unchanged, but her eyes softer now, knowing.

“You’re scared,” she said.

Nayeon froze.

For a heartbeat, she thought about denying it. About joking again. About pretending she hadn’t heard. Yet the truth pressed against her ribs, heavy and undeniable.

“Of course I am,” she admitted quietly.

She stared out at the city, blinking hard so she wouldn’t cry. 

“If it involved just me, I wouldn’t care. I’d be reckless. I’d jump without thinking.” 

Her fingers curled into the sleeve of her sweater. “But it’s you.”

That was the part she couldn’t say out loud fully, but Momo understood anyway.

Momo reached out then. Just a gentle touch at Nayeon’s wrist, grounding and patient.

“I know,” Momo said softly, not finding the courage to say anything else.

Now it’s 6 years later and they’re back at the same spot, with the same bunggeoppang in Nayeon’s hands. 

The years passed by less dramatic than she expected. It was just seasons folding into each other, schedules blending into one another, laughter growing more distant.

With Momo by her side, everything feels heavier. 

Momo has moved on. From her, from them. 

Nayeon knows it’s not betrayal, it’s just life. 

If only her heart could’ve gotten the same message.

It’s still here. Stuck in this place, stuck in a version of herself that believed restraint was the same thing as protection. That loving someone quietly was enough. That waiting was noble.

She realizes then that she is the woman who cannot be moved. Not forward. Not back. Just suspended in the space between what was and what could have been.

She’s run out of time in this lifetime.

The thought doesn’t come with panic anymore. Just a deep, aching clarity. Some chances don’t circle back around and hearts close just as they had opened. 

She looks at Momo again now, the same sparkling eyes looking back at her, unknowing. 

She feels her heart twist all the same anyway.

She prays in her heart without knowing exactly who she’s praying to. 

She prays that they find each other again. That it’s easier next time. That she’s braver.

That she loves Momo in the here and now.

Because standing here at thirty, Nayeon finally understands how foolish she’s been. How so much of her life she spent outrunning her own heart.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-nine, doubled over in laughter with Momo at some stupid joke that wasn’t even that funny. They laughed til their stomach hurt and Nayeon had to wipe tears from her eyes.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-eight, Momo’s arm slung comfortably around her shoulders, like that was where it belonged. Like there was no question about it.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-seven, gripping the car seat in terror as Momo drove her for the first time, yelling while laughing, heart pounding with equal parts fear and trust.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-six, packing boxes in silence, pretending the end of their shared apartment was just logistics and not grief. Pretending she wasn’t losing something she would never get back.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-five, cooking dinner together in their kitchen, music playing low, dancing barefoot by the refrigerator light at midnight like the world wasn’t waiting to take things from them.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-four, sitting too close during long V Lives, brushing fingers together and pretending it meant nothing while the comments scrolled too fast to read.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-three, squeezed into one small room, sharing space, sharing air, sharing a closeness that felt like a secret even to themselves.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-two and confess her love to Momo softly, as if love itself might shatter if the word was spoken too loudly.

She turned thirty and forgot what it was like to be twenty-one and falling in love. Hard. The kind that makes you fearless without realizing it. The kind that feels like standing at the edge of a cliff. 

She turned thirty and forgot what it meant to be young and in love.

To be brave. To be reckless. To choose now instead of someday.

Momo’s arm around her shoulder pulls her out of her spiral. 

“Unnie.” Momo is scared, Nayeon can hear it. 

She didn’t realise she had been crying. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Nayeon apologises and quickly wipes her tears away. 

Momo squeezes her shoulder and steps back abit. 

“You don’t have to be sorry. For back then, and for right now.” Momo assures her, comforts her. 

Nayeon sniffles, “I think…” She stops, shakes her head, lets out a small laugh that is full of everything but humour. “I think I owe you a closure that I never gave properly.”

Momo’s eyes soften. She knows where this is going. She has been dreaming of it for years.

“I loved you more than myself, and maybe I still do.” Nayeon starts. “So I chose what I thought was best for you. Even when it wasn’t what you asked for.”

A breath. 

“I was a coward and ran from the ideas of consequences and reality. I regret that. And if I could go back in time, I would’ve done things differently but I can’t. But…” 

“I just wanted you to know that in another life, hopefully one where I’m braver, one where I don’t wait until it’s too late to say all of this, it will be us together.” 

Momo’s eyes shine and she blinks back her tears. 

She doesn’t know how to tell Nayeon that she hasn’t moved on either. 

That she’s a coward too because she loves Nayeon more than herself and hates seeing Nayeon being conflicted or burdened. 

That this isn’t closure for her but if it is for Nayeon, then she will bury her feelings in her heart. 

That Momo would too, in a heartbeat, choose Nayeon again and again in all her lifetimes. 

That right now, seeing Nayeon cry, breaks her heart more than anything else. 

So, she scoops Nayeon into her embrace, hands smoothing over her hair and patting her back, the familiar scent of vanilla and orange blossoms wrapping around her again. Again after all these years. 

“Thank you,” Momo whispers into the crown of Nayeon’s head, “for loving me at all.”

And because she has never rejected Nayeon in any way, shape, or form, she whispers ever so softly in her heart,

“I love you too, Im Nayeon. One day, it will be our turn too.” 

How can a heart that was never given break this loudly?

Why does this hurt more than any of my so-called “real” heartbreaks?

We barely even leapt from the ground… and still—I felt the crash in my soul, the fracture deep in my bones.

Who falls for the barest glimmer of someone?

I only had... A few shared words… Fleeting moments… An occasional warm smile…

Sometimes... just being near you. Near your presence.

That’s all it took?! For you to— to rewrite my soul?! To change who I am? What I wanted? What I dream of?

How do sparks that never became a flame leave behind this much ash?

How did I fall, harder than ever before... for what was never even real?

Now here I am... on my knees... begging the ache to stop.

I’d give anything, endure anything, believe in anything... just to know you weren’t gone.

That every small exchange we share won’t be the last. That you still exist beyond the silence.

Because not knowing? That’s what torments my soul.

some stories aren’t told all at once. they unfold in glances, pauses, a name almost spoken, a touch that meant more than it should have.

she took the warmth, not the love

she always came back when the nights got cold.

not for the love. just the way I touched her without needing to ask. the way I looked at her like I already knew what she was trying to hide.

she said I made her feel safe. wanted. undone.

but only in secret.

the softness I offered in between breakups, bad nights, and a name she never said aloud.

she would linger just long enough to drink from what I didn’t speak, then leave to offer her fire to someone else who never saw her the way I did.

once, she traced her finger over my wrist — stopped. smiled like she remembered something I never told her.

she told me the world wouldn’t understand. and I knew what she meant. not with words, but with the hush that followed when her body leaned in but her name disappeared from mine.

I was never her home. just the pause between hunger and forgetting.

and maybe that’s all we ever were — a breath between verses, a note that trembled after the song was done.

I. @traveledlight

These tears are warm mourning

for a place I’ve never been.

My body hurts,

aching for flesh

that once burned for mine.

But maybe I was always meant

to burn for something

I could never keep—

to love someone

just out of my reach.

I’ll always wonder the what-ifs,

or if I wasn’t enough,

because you said you’d never leave.

And now I’m left with ashes

slipping through my fingers,

the residue scarring me,

blackening who I was

when I was with you.

And yet I long

for future moments

that will forever escape me.

And somewhere,

someone else feels this too.

II. @4-ngelyn

Call me when you want me.

The darker, the better—

that way your light will seem even brighter,

my star.

My love for you is alive,

faintly breathing.

I long for you endlessly.

But now you seem so far—

we’ve become strangers after dawn.

Oh stranger, how I miss those nights—

I miss your hands between my thighs,

a fire that made me believe

I’d be the one you keep.

Does your heart still ache for me?

Have your hands

already forgotten the shape of my body?

Have your lips forgotten

the taste of my mouth?

I’ve tried to catch your love

on these nights,

but it keeps escaping my hands.

This could have been

the greatest love story ever told

if you had let me take hold

of you

if you had let me write the end

for you.

But who am I?

Just a girl gazing up at the sky?

I was able to see our future

in those eternal blues,

but it turns out

I was the only one who could see it.

So who am I?

Just a girl

in love with you,

my elusive lover—

wondering if somewhere