“aren’t you fickle.”

jiyeon pouted, turning her head just enough so hyunjung could see her displeasure from the passenger seat.

“i just rescued you from the worst weekend ever and you’re insulting me? in my car?”

hyunjung couldn’t help but giggle. she wandered a hand over the girl's shoulder, resting it at the base of her scalp where she knew she liked her massages. jiyeon sighed in spite of herself.

“no don’t…i’ll fall asleep on the road…” she groaned. her passenger relented, finding other ways to pester her.

“do you always get dolled up for me?” hyunjung twirled a lock of the girl’s hair around a finger, stifling a grin when she saw her victim’s lips part slightly. “i feel like i've only ever seen you looking pretty nowadays.”

“kim hyunjung,” she squeaked, turning her head away to peek at her blind spot. “you’re so annoying.”

“how's the slob?” hyunjung asked suddenly, drawing her legs up into a cross-legged seat. “he did something again, huh. that’s why you decided we can have plans this weekend.”

“nothing.” she stared ahead resolutely, though her stubbornness dissolved quickly. “he said he’d finish the move out next week.”

“jiyeon,” hyunjung groaned, met by hurried protests. “what self respecting guy sticks around in his ex-wife’s house?”

“we aren't fully divorced yet,” jiyeon pointed out tersely. “still waiting for the paperwork to come through–”

“yeah, the documents have probably been in your mailbox for a week.” hyunjung rolled her eyes. what kind of reversal was this? jiyeon was the snarkiest, sharpest girl hyunjung had ever met; it was always her demanding hyunjung to stand up for herself. 

but something about that man made kim jiyeon smaller, made her bright, soft eyes dull a bit.

hyunjung’s blood boiled at the thought.

“anyways,” jiyeon cut the topic short. “i saved you from a whole weekend with your stepmother. you didn’t even need to ask.”

“yeah, because i didn't want to get in your hair…” hyunjung mumbled, old guilt settling back in. her savior glanced over at her.

“a day with you is a break, okay?” she patted her knee across the console. “actually, a weekend. if you don’t mind.”

hyunjung raised her eyebrows. “yeah, i wasn't sure if you were serious about that.”

“did you pack enough?”

“well, yeah.”

“good.” jiyeon beamed.

“you never know with you and your…non-plans.” hyunjung learned to let go of her anxieties a bit with kim jiyeon. to her friend’s credit, she was good at smoothing over on-the-fly hiccups.

”it’s only one night,” she whined. “don’t you trust me?”

jiyeon’s open, earnest expression made hyunjung’s heart expand a little bit.

“of course, jiyeonie.”

–

hyunjung yawned widely and loudly, struggling to stretch her legs in the front of jiyeon’s little convertible. she’d sworn out loud that she’d stay awake, but drives at any time of day made her sleepy. at so much as the first hint of complaint, jiyeon had the top closed, letting her passenger settle in comfortably.

hyunjung unfurled her legs, cringing at the beginnings of pins and needles.

“when are we getting out?” she inquired duly. she only realized after peering out the fogged window that they were somewhere she could not recognize. “where are we?”

“the coast.” jiyeon said as much as if that was sufficient to answer her concerns.

“are we staying at a hotel? do you need me to take out a map?” hyunjung reached for the glove box, but jiyeon put her hand over the compartment and clicked it shut again.

“i figured we’d just drive down for a while until we find someplace nice.”

hyunjung swallowed another five complaints and a lump of anxiety, leaning back into her seat.

because one glance at her friend’s tightly controlled countenance betrayed the woman’s coiled discontent. this trip was as much for her as it was for hyunjung. maybe more.

she could be a good friend and keep her company this time. hyunjung curled her knees up the opposite direction now, perching her chin on the car windowsill and letting her gaze wander over the scenery.

“it’s beautiful,” she commented, meaning it. the rolling green hills rose then abruptly dropped away, revealing exactly how closely the cliffs overlooked a broad, choppy sea. looking out across its vastness made hyunjung shiver with a strange, nervous wonder. before she could get a good look, the roadside green would rise again, obscuring the view save for a blue, clear sky. “are we…is this the west coast?”

“yes.” jiyeon chuckled. “you weren’t asleep that long.”

hyunjung cleared her throat sheepishly. “right.”

jiyeon was pensively quiet; this was not unusual, but her slightly somber mood was.

“an outlook ahead,” hyunjung said suddenly as the sign zipped by them. “next right.”

jiyeon took it, pulling onto a ramp that quickly turned to crackly gravel. there were no other cars; the little strip of cleared hillside barely qualified as a real stop.

the coastal wind buffeted the two women immediately upon stepping out the car, imperceptible during the drive with the lack of greenery besides short, scruffy grass. hyunjung snatched the blanket from the car, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders as she shuffled behind jiyeon to the vantage point.

a rickety wood fence circled the perch on a harshly plummeting cliff, a little place thrust terrifyingly close to the grey sea below. hyunjung’s steps slowed as she approached the edge, but jiyeon stepped forward, apparently fearless of the wind and her proximity to the broad, hungry waves.

“jiyeon-ah!” hyunjung called nervously. “don’t get too close.”

“it’s beautiful!” she replied, shouting a bit over the coastal wind. “come look.”

“no!” hyunjung said, her voice a bit warbly. “it’s too high up…”

jiyeon turned, her expression mildly reproachful. her long, dark hair flew up around her face like a strange, restless halo, framing then obscuring her striking features in passing instants.

she was beautiful, a softer evocation of the vigorous cliffs and sea below her. kim jiyeon had always been beautiful.

“meet me halfway.”

hyunjung eventually inched forward until she could take her outstretched hand. 

(she was most definitely further than halfway.) 

her friend towed her in until they both faced the sea, huddling for a quiet moment and watching the movement of the near water meld to a serene horizon. it didn’t look windy out there; the world looked peaceful just out of reach. hyunjung couldn’t tell if she imagined the peak of a distant boat out on the water, or if it was just the sun glancing across the glassy edges of waves.

jiyeon snaked her hand and then her full arm and side under hyunjung’s blanket, squeezing in for some warmth. her perfume, delicately floral and green, framed the moment to be another rosy memory.

“aren’t we lucky?” jiyeon piped up, as if reading her mind. sometimes her habit of nearly supernatural coincidence made hyunjung’s goosebumps stand up. “how’d we end up back in each other’s lives again?”

“your deadbeat’s job.” hyunjung answered. she knew jiyeon was rolling her eyes hard, even when she couldn’t see her face next to her. “it was smart staying with him until you moved.”

“he’s not my deadbeat,” she responded resolutely. “not anymore.” 

jiyeon tucked her head into the slope of hyunjung’s shoulder. just the right height. she hadn’t grown since high school after all. hyunjung pressed her lips together in an amused grin, trying to ignore the quickening of her own heartbeat.

“that’s the spirit.”

–

as much as kim hyunjung insisted the contrary to her family, the single life in a dull, mostly family-populated suburb got a bit lonely at times. she’d never been one for a large social circle, and whatever other classmates had remained in town were married and all hatching families.

leaving spinster hyunjung bored on weekends.

“why don’t you move to the city?” a particularly grating aunt had snapped once in exasperation. “maybe you’ll find a husband there. isn’t that where all the young people are going?”

“i’m not going to move just to find a husband.” hyunjung had responded flatly.

why hadn’t she gone for literally any other reason? there was nothing left for her here. 

this was just another one of her strange, immovable hangups, she’d eventually accepted.

now the topic returned to nag at her, with nothing to do but watch the coast zip by while her companion searched for accommodations.

kim jiyeon. hyunjung’s most improbable best friend; the sweetly popular girl who got hitched with her high school sweetheart and vanished the very year after graduation.

“isn’t all this…sudden?” hyunjung had blurted in one of their last sleepovers together. just the fact that it had been a sleepover: they’d been so young. too young.

“what do you mean?” jiyeon had the tone that hyunjung knew meant she’d twinged a nerve. the latter girl couldn’t help herself.

“you’ve dated him in high school, you’re getting married straight out of graduation. you’re nineteen, jiyeon-ah.”

“for three years,” she replied, her voice pitching higher already. “i’ve been with him for three years, and i trust him. it makes sense.” she took another breath, ready to rattle off more of her reasons that hyunjung had only ever found inane.

“do you love him?”

jiyeon’s countenance had crumpled into something hurt and guarded. a side to her hyunjung had seen less and less of.

but she knew her friend well enough to know when she was lying. for one, she could never look hyunjung in the eye. she tugged her blanket higher to her chin, rolling away from her in a petulant act of leaving her friend cold and coverless.

“yes.”

hyunjung had sighed, biting her tongue in the beginnings of regret. a gentle tug at the edge of the comforter only elicited a determined, squeaky grunt. she tugged harder, and the rumples unraveled, turning jiyeon onto her back. hyunjung found her hand under the covers, interlacing their fingers and squeezing lightly.

“i’m happy for you,” she mumbled into the dark room. this was not a lie, though maybe she’d left out a lot more to be said.

kim hyunjung had always trusted kim jiyeon to know the rest. but when she disappeared from town just some weeks later, leaving hyunjung reeling at the new emptiness in her life, she had to wonder if her best friend had ever noticed any of it at all.

–

“what’re you lookin’ at?”

hyunjung had been staring, lost in one of her wandering thoughts. the corner of jiyeon’s mouth was quirked in a shy smile. hyunjung immediately averted her eyes to the road over the dashboard, swallowing.

“just zoned out.” she replied casually. much to her relief, jiyeon didn’t pursue the topic further.

“place up ahead,” she said. and sure enough, the exit she took turned to a bend, stopping at a little cluster of tiny cabins overlooking the water. there were only three cars parked on the gravel lot outside, and jiyeon’s blue convertible made four.

the accommodations were no five star stay, but the cabin was tidy and the rate reasonable. jiyeon forked over just a bit more for the ocean view; when the host noted it only had one queen bed rather than two twins, jiyeon nodded nonchalantly and accepted the key promptly. the house was furthest down the row; the two lugged their bags down the paved sidewalk and shouldered the door open. their suitcases promptly dropped at the threshold, jiyeon hurriedly searched for the thermostat while hyunjung stepped into the living room.

the first thing she did was shove the dusty curtains aside. that same vastness loomed before her again, supposedly worth ten extra dollars. she couldn’t decide if she was growing appreciative or weary of it.

jiyeon seemed to feel the former.

“wow,” she exclaimed cheerily, her prior blue mood apparently completely eased. she approached the thick glass, pressing her palms against the window and leaning in until her breath fogged the glass.she had to step to the side to see clearly again. “whoda thunk there’d be somewhere like this so far out?”

“yeah,” hyunjung plopped down on a plush sofa. “really cute place.”

jiyeon turned around to face her. that same sparkle was in her eye, returned from the moment at that blustery vantage point. the tops of her cheeks and the tip of her nose was blushed pink from the sudden temperature change of the outside wind to the cabin. hyunjung couldn’t help but return the smile. 

“thanks for coming with.” jiyeon squeezed onto the loveseat next to her. she nestled warmly against hyunjung, and all those old memories flooded back. if she shut her eyes, it almost felt like one of those silly hushed evenings, whiling the night away with whatever nonsense they’d managed to get up to.

“thanks for taking me with you.”

–

maybe kim jiyeon had matured after all.

she’d had the foresight to pack some basic food; dry pasta noodles, and some produce in an icebox. they made a simple dinner in the cabin’s tiny kitchen, all over predictably expensive wine.

“i’m so full,” hyunjung groaned, wandering away from the dirty dishes deposited in the sink. jiyeon hurried past her with two refilled wineglasses, tugging the sofa flush against the big window and sinking cross-legged into the cushions. she watched her friend expectantly until hyunjung climbed awkwardly over the couch arm, settling onto her side and accepting her glass.

hyunjung found herself the subject of one of jiyeon’s quietly attentive stares. she hoped the flush in her cheeks wasn’t evident; at the very least, that an alcoholic flush was believable as a cause. she raised the wine to her lips again, hurriedly gulping.

“what’re you looking at me for?” she echoed jiyeon’s previous question. “you paid ten dollars for this view.”

it was the dregs of a stunning sunset, the last shades of deep maroon tinging the waters.

“yeah.” her voice was softer than expected, softer than hyunjung’s. hyunjung didn’t know why that was enough to hitch her breath in her throat. “i was just wondering something. if you don’t mind me asking.”

“yeah?”

“why didn’t you go somewhere else?”

hyunjung inhaled shallowly, not trusting her breath to come smoothly if she took it any deeper. why’d jiyeon phrase it that way? when what anyone else had ever bothered to ask was, why did you stay?

but to her, iit had always been about moving. not away, always toward. kim hyunjung had always found it just a bit baffling and a bit more curious. what could she always see on that horizon? hyunjung never could glimpse it; she had only ever felt the solidness of the earth below her feet. sometimes she’d found her friend infuriatingly flighty, and sometimes she’d wanted nothing more but to feel that too, just for a moment. maybe she would have understood it all, then.

“i don’t know,” she said, finally. jiyeon made a small noise of dissatisfaction.

“i know you know, kim hyunjung.” she sipped, refusing to turn away. “spit it.”

she turned it over in her head a few moments longer. “sometimes i think i was waiting for something.” she looked down at the deep crimson in fragile crystal, swirling it in slow, restless circles. “not really sure what. i never really know, with these kinds of things.”

“was?”

hyunjung was properly caught by surprise, enough to glance up into her eyes.

jiyeon’s expression seemed just as startled. she repeated herself as if in self-hypnosis. “was?”

“i…” hyunjung watched her lips part, a quiet breath slipping past. her words held kim jiyeon in limbo. this sudden power made hyunjung’s own heart quicken. “maybe. i don’t know.” she stumbled. back into old habits. “i want to move,” she pressed on quickly, fearing losing that moment of arrested attention too quickly. “i’ve been wanting to go…somewhere. lately.”

“oh, right.” and just like that, it was over. not abruptly; jiyeon just drew back again, with an exit that was softly considerate. just as she’d always been.

hyunjung felt that strange pang in her chest. the one that ended in a dull tugging, that made her throat dry swallow. she’d almost forgotten what kim jiyeon had always done to her. hyunjung cleared her throat.

“can i ask you something now?”

“only fair, i guess.”

“why’d you go with him?”

jiyeon snorted. it wasn’t a scoff, or a real laugh.

“nobody asks me that,” she said quietly. “always why i left him.”

“whichever question you prefer, then,” hyunjung said. the two of them faced the sea.

“because it was safe,” she said. “because it was the best way out, what i was supposed to do.” she sipped again, deeper this time. “biggest mistake of my life. never do what you’re supposed to do.”

now hyunjung laughed, a proper one, enough to make the other girl crack a small grin.

“i don’t think i’ve ever done what i was supposed to do in my life.” she paused, realizing she was missing the last part of it. “not for lack of trying.”

“i admire that, kim hyunjung.” she sighed, then doubled down at the other woman’s laugh. “i do!”

when hyunjung finally turned to face her, she only saw her side profile, just obscured enough to make her that much more indecipherable.

see me, kim jiyeon, she hoped she could hear her this time. see me again.

and maybe that was what motivated her leaning in and pressing the softest kiss to her cheek. jiyeon didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. her eyes blinked shut for the shortest instant; hyunjung nearly missed it as she pulled back.

“we should go to bed,” jiyeon said, her voice soft and clear. “i’m exhausted and we should be leaving early tomorrow.”

“oh,” hyunjung nodded, disappointment settling in her stomach with a heaviness that was nearly embarrassing.

“you can stay up, though,” she added, rubbing her eyes and making to get up. “i know you sleep much later than i do–”

“no, i’m tired, too.” she scrambled up, stepping over the couch back and extending a helping hand to jiyeon. she clambered over her side, and didn’t let go. her fingers threaded between hyunjung’s with an old sort of familiarity.

her crinkled smile made hyunjung’s chest tug harder against its ribcage. she followed her to bed like a led lamb, and jiyeon’s slow breaths next to her lulled hyunjung to sleep, as they always had.

–

in typical fashion, jiyeon woke up before hyunjung and left the bed cold. the late sleeper rubbed her eyes, reaching across the mattress to confirm the persistence of habit.

no matter that she’d frequently be staying at hyunjung’s, jiyeon would normally be bustling around the kitchen to prepare whatever simple breakfast for the family, waving a spatula in greeting. but the cabin’s kitchen was empty, as was the rest of the room(s). hyunjung frowned, perhaps unfounded anxiety rising already.

she tamped it down. maybe jiyeon had gone on a walk along the vista.

the air was warmer than the previous day, the wind gentler as well, but hyunjung bundled into an old shrug anyway and shuffled across the gravel to the view’s edge. there was the ocean again, cut up again by the sun’s rays. hyunjung found herself appreciating the view more and more. it was safer, but a bit more boring in the morning, she decided. []

speaking of jiyeonie, she was nowhere to be found. hyunjung wrapped her arms around herself, turning to trek back down the dirt trail to the cabin. passing the main office, she remembered that she’d failed to send any message home last night about her whereabouts. her stepmother would surely launch into another prickly rant.

as if the woman actually cared about her well-being.

she sighed and shuffled into the building, resigned to her fate.

luckily, kim jiyeon had beat her to a turn on the telephone. 

hyunjung breathed a sigh of relief, about to pat a quiet hello on her shoulder when she drew closer and realized that everything was in fact not okay.

“we settled this already. yeobo—“ her voice broke, already in a frantically low tone that attempted discretion. 

her hands trembled on the receiver, and hyunjung watched her knuckles whiten, then slack. jiyeon inhaled once, her breath releasing so slowly hyunjung thought she wouldn’t inhale again. stepping out of the room felt somehow doubly interruptive, so she stood stock still instead.

“no.” the sudden fierceness of her tone startled both hyunjung and the blatantly eavesdropping innkeeper lady. “i don’t.”

she slammed the receiver down on its cradle, likely harder than she intended judging by her own startled jump. whirling around, she was frightened a second time by hyunjung’s dazed stare.

“hi,” jiyeon said, mustering a trembling smile. “sleep well?”

at that moment, the sun fought its way past spotty clouds, shining in a single warm ray through the window and across jiyeon. she blinked, the smile that hadn’t reached her eyes faltering nearly imperceptibly.

the absurdity of the moment made hyunjung want to cry.

“let’s get breakfast,” jiyeon supplied without hearing a reply, and nudged her way past her and out the door. 

hyunjung met the sharply nosy gaze of the innkeeper as she turned to the door. it was rare that she dared to face such a stare head on, but for once she couldn’t tear away.

instead, she felt the woman’s pointed judgment pierce her stomach until something new poured out. it wasn’t ugly for something repressed for so long. but it nearly frightened her.

she slammed the door on her way out.

“jiyeon—“ hyunjung called, then gasped a breath of violently cold air. she hadn’t noticed how wretchedly warm the inn lady had kept her shed.

jiyeon frequently complained about her disadvantage in stride length, but she could walk fast when she wanted to. hyunjung ignored the prickle of gravel filling her shoes, tripping to catch up. she only reached her by the front door. jiyeon’s hands were too shaky to gain purchase on the stiff metal handle.

“jiyeon-ah,” she said, perhaps a bit more abruptly than she intended. fresh tears were sliding down her friend’s face, and hyunjung finally pushed open the door, spilling the two of them into the cabin.

jiyeon stopped in the center of the room, face cast downward even as her best friend stepped in front of her and took her hands gently away from her face. she clung tightly to hyunjung as she was guided to the sofa. 

“what’s happened?” hyunjung prompted after a moment, placing a comforting hand at the slope of her shoulder. jiyeon took a shuddering breath, her words jumbled until they were minimally comprehensible.

“he’s taken the house. we made the agreement weeks ago…but he went ahead and contested it and they’re sure that he’ll get it too.” jiyeon hiccuped. “because i have no children anyway, so why would i need the house?”

hyunjung exhaled, feeling that burning bile rise again until the world shrunk to a pinprick.

all of it made sense, in a pattern which had always closed in tighter and tighter. hyunjung had thought she’d been the stupid one to resist, while jiyeon had found the right kind of happiness. she wasn’t sure if there had been a choice in the matter, if she could’ve followed jiyeon into the life that was always made simplest.

but none of it had mattered in the end.

“they said i can go back to my family, it’s not right for a single girl to live alone.”

jiyeon looked up, drawing hyunjung back into reality. “i can’t go back. you know that.”

“of course not.”

hyunjung threw her arms around jiyeon, feeling the girl’s whole being tremble. kim jiyeon had always been small, but hyunjung had never really felt bigger than her best friend.

not until this world had finally crumpled her. hyunjung would’ve been afraid by this change in the past. now, she finally felt like she could hold something up off of the both of them. was this what had always driven jiyeon? a desperate rage. the dizziness that always took hold when she was near her, struck into a fresh flame.

and a silly realization. silly, because it had taken this long.

hyunjung would’ve always been here, in all hundred possible threads. jiyeon would’ve always found her, and hyunjung would’ve always waited.

“i love you, kim jiyeon.”

she felt jiyeon breathe in, expanding against her, waiting. so she repeated herself.

“i love you.”

and jiyeon leaned back just enough to find hyunjung’s lips with hers, shaky hands cupping her face, her fingertips tentative and tear-dampened on hyunjung’s skin. her lips tasted of tears, then sweetly of kim jiyeon and her earnestness, even through her torment. hyunjung only felt what part of her had always belonged to jiyeon, that swell of consciousness pricked awake.

the moment should’ve lasted longer, but when hyunjung blinked her eyes open, the sight of jiyeon renewed her heart racing. the most beautiful girl, looking at kim hyunjung with the clarity she’d dreamed of for half their lives.

“hyunjung,” she murmured. “i always have.”