feeling pink -- with @witheredflowxrs
they're off stage. the cheers are still ringing somewhere in the distance, caught in the branches of cherry blossoms and echoing against the back of her skull like a second heartbeat—but they’re off stage.
and for now, that’s enough.
heejin leans against the railing, one arm slung loosely over it as she tilts her head toward the lake. lights shimmer across the water, pink and gold and soft white, like the whole festival’s still glowing just for them. it’s pretty. a little surreal, if she lets herself think about it too hard. so she doesn’t.
not yet.
instead, she glances sideways, eyes drifting toward the person next to her with a kind of quiet awareness. “hey,” she says, voice low, steady, familiar—like they’ve already had half this conversation before.
“you did so well.” it’s not said in that empty, automatic way people throw around post-stage. she means it. and not just about the performance.
she doesn’t name it directly—not the pressure hana’s been under since debut, not the way she always seems to be doing just a little more, smiling just a little wider, trying just a little harder. but it’s all there in the way heejin offers her a small water bottle and lets the silence stretch comfortably between them.
“we held it down today,” she adds, lips curling into something fond, a little tired but proud. “even if the confetti nearly took me out at the end.”
a beat passes.
“you hungry?” she asks suddenly, glancing toward the stalls in the distance. “i saw a stand selling these ridiculous cherry blossom donuts earlier. probably too sweet. probably pink all the way through. you want to go find them with me?”
