. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋsummary you dated geum seongje for a while, but things got toxic and complicated, so you had to end things over. but one day, your ez boyfriend shows up at your door.
. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋpairing geum seongje x fem!reader
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋgenre fluff with agnst, second chance, who did this to you with a twist
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋwarnings high school au, violence, toxic relationship, seongje is kind of an asshole, i do not aprove this behavior btw
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋwc 4.6k
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋnote HIIII long time no see in this acc... im sorry guys :( ive been working on this for weeks, bit then i dropped idk why. it was suposed to be a way larger work, but ive never finished. so if u see the characters making plans for future and so its beacause of that. if this has support, i can consider writing a second part. hope u enjoy, love u always :D
Geum Seongje was always a mess, but he was your mess. Until he stopped being one.
Now everyone knows him as a member of the Union, a heartless sadist and a violent thug. But he wasn’t always like that.
When you met him, he might have had a hint of those traits that now define him so well, but it wasn’t just that. The two of you went to the same high school. It was two or three years ago. You were the new kid, in a classroom full of strangers, but the boy sitting right behind you decided to ask you for a pencil, and that’s how it all began.
You joined a group of friends that included him. It doesn’t matter who they were—you don’t even hang out with them anymore. You got along with them, but you clicked with him the most. You became friends pretty quickly. You had things in common, like video games and music. In fact, that’s how you fell for him.
You were showing him a song by your favorite band at the time. You lent him an earbud, and since they were wired, you were closer than you usually were. You were facing each other; he couldn’t see you, but you could see him: you watched his eyes, his expression, to see if he liked the song. But in reality, you were seeing beyond that.
As soon as you told your friends, they disapproved.
“Geum Seongje? Seriously? He’s an idiot.”
You didn’t care what they thought anyway. To others, or to people who only notice what they see at first glance, Seongje is a somewhat violent idiot. But in reality, he was more clumsy than cruel. If we compare him to who he is today.
To you, who notices every action, every glance, every subtle shift in people’s expressions; Seongje was just a guy with problems at home who took out his stress by being a jerk to others. And as far as you know, deep down in his soul, he’s a guy just like any other, with feelings.
You knew Seongje was complicated, so you were the one who took all the important steps. You made the first moves, you took his hand, you took the initiative to go out together. Every day, the line between friendship and something more became blurrier.
You started noticing small changes that, for someone like him, were huge. Like him buying you a little something at the coffee shop just because, or walking you home.
When you were completely sure his feelings were mutual, you confessed. At first, he laughed in your face. You got scared. But then he softened and confirmed your suspicions: he liked you too.
A relationship with Seongje is… interesting. He was cold, but if you read between the lines, if you slipped your finger into those tiny cracks, you’d open up a whole heart.
Seongje had problems at home. He had a strong temper, so his house was always full of shouting. From your perspective, there were no good guys or bad guys, just a couple of incompatible people who had the misfortune of being family. But slowly, Seongje started to turn into a jerk.
You went to his house a couple of times, and every single time there was an argument. Seongje was very argumentative, his mother had little patience, and his father was inconsiderate. He also had a little sister whom your boyfriend loved very much, and she always got caught in the middle of everything.
That’s why you didn’t go over there much. Your house wasn’t an option either. When you brought him over for the first time, your parents immediately said no—that if you wanted to be with him, you could, but not at their house. That didn’t stop you from having him over when your parents were out. Or when they were asleep. But most of the time, they were at school or out later in the evening anyway.
Time with him was simple. Half the time they just talked nonsense or simply did their own things but in each other’s company. There was almost no physical contact if anyone else was around. No overly romantic gestures either, but it didn’t matter. You loved Seongje, and even though he didn’t respond when you told him, you knew he felt the same way.
The first time he did it, he wasn’t even looking you in the eyes. He was sitting in front of his computer, the LED light from the screen outlining his features. You had to leave after spending the afternoon at his house. You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I love you. See you tomorrow at school, okay?”
“Yeah, I love you too.”
You didn’t make a big deal out of it, because he hates it when you make too much of things, so you just stayed quiet, with a faint smile and a look of surprise on your face. You were so, so in love with him.
Because in private, he was different. There, he was more affectionate. Plus, you talked about more personal things, like his fears and worries. You witnessed the decline of his home life with him—how his parents kicked him out when they’d had enough of him, how he lost contact with his sister, how he felt lonely and misunderstood. You were always there.
Seongje’s downfall was something that really hurt you. Seeing the person you loved most in the world turn into a potential psychopath was painful. Every time you saw him, he had a new wound. He started getting into fights and using violence as a form of communication. Or rather, as entertainment.
He didn’t really change much with you. With others, he did. He distanced himself from the group, was more irritable, and barely spoke to anyone. You were the only one he didn’t lose touch with. That made you feel special; it made you feel that he truly loved you and cared about you.
But then he grew distant from you, too. He avoided physical contact, he didn’t say “I love you” back anymore, and when you spoke to him, he didn’t pay attention. You knew he was going through a very tough time in his life, so you just let it slide.
But one day he snapped.
After that, nothing was ever the same again. In fact, nothing had been the same for a while, but that incident really changed everything more than before.
You didn’t actually see what happened; you just heard people running through the hallways, shouting incoherently, until, amid the chaos, you heard Seongje’s name. You ran out with your heart in your throat, filled with doubt and fear.
What if he’d gotten into something serious, like a fight? Or what if he’d had an accident? Thoughts raced through your mind at the speed of light until you reached the door to your classroom, which was packed with people.
You pushed your way through the crowd to see what might be the most shocking sight your eyes had ever seen: Seongje grabbing the collar of a student lying on the floor while repeatedly punching him in the face with his other hand. You didn’t know who he was because he was unrecognizable with all the blood on his face. His nose was visibly broken, and the area around his eyes was swollen.
But the one you couldn’t recognize was the attacker, either. The sadistic expression and vacant stare on the face of the person you called your boyfriend were something you had never seen in him before.
Your chest tightened, letting in just enough air to scream your beloved’s name in the hope that the situation would stop—which worked. Seongje’s grip loosened, and the boy finished falling onto the cold tiles, his head hitting the floor with a loud thud.
After that, things got a little fuzzy. You only remember waiting for Seongje outside the principal’s office and then seeing him come out with his parents. You never saw him again after that day. Or at least not at school.
He was transferred to a school quite a distance away, which meant you saw each other less often. That made him more insecure. You loved that he was protective and possessive of you, but not being able to be close to you got on his nerves. Any boy who approached you or whose name you mentioned ended up on a blacklist. You remember once making a new friend who, curiously, after you mentioned him to Seongje, showed up with a cut on his face and never spoke to you again.
With every thing he told you, or that was told to you, you knew he was getting worse. At his new school, he was a bully everyone feared, and he started hanging out with increasingly worse people. He also picked up the habit of smoking, so every time he went home, he smelled like tobacco.
Because of this, Seongje was already living on his own. After an agreement with his parents, they paid for a very small apartment far away just before he turned eighteen, on the condition that he never show up to bother them again. They paid for his basic utilities; he had to fend for himself with the rest. But instead of getting a normal job, he decided to make money in a… shady way.
Something called “The Union” started dominating conversations at nearby schools. It was like a mafia made up of all the school gangs in the area. It was led by a guy named Na BaekJin, a wealthy, very calculating, and organized guy. They stole motorcycles, laundered money, and that sort of thing. It was never entirely clear to you where they actually got all that money from.
Soengje quickly climbed the ranks until he became one of the leader’s most trusted people. That meant he was around less because he spent so much time there. It made you feel neglected; for the first time, he wasn’t putting you first.
All of this, added to what came before, began to darken the image you had of Seongje… he was no longer your guy hiding behind that tough facade; he was already tough. And you were no longer the exception; you weren’t the one he opened up to and felt comfortable with.
You ran away from home one night and rushed to his apartment. He greeted you with a cigarette in his mouth and a familiar smile—the kind he usually gave to strangers.
“What a surprise at this hour,” he laughed.
“I’m not here to hang out with you.” His expression turned serious. “I can’t take this anymore, Seongje. I’m sorry.”
You turned around and didn’t look back as you walked away. You were dying to see his expression, to hear him say something, to see him try to stop you. But this was starting to hurt you. And deep down, it always had, but this time you put yourself first.
You didn’t see him for months. Until he started showing up again.
At first, it was nothing—just a blurry shadow in the background. But little by little, that shadow became less of a mystery and stepped closer into the light. Maybe you’d see him once a week in an alley near your school during dismissal, smoking. You just ignored him; it was surely just a coincidence.
But then he started showing up there more often. There were weeks when you saw him there every day. But again, innocently, you ignored him and attributed his presence to the fact that the group of bullies at your school had recently joined the Union.
One day, as you were heading out with a couple of friends to a café you’d frequented since before you met Seongje, he showed up. You can’t deny that seeing his face and body so close again gave you goosebumps. What was he doing there? His house was far from the café. Does he miss you? Is he spying on you? Or is it both?
Even though he didn’t actually come within 10 meters of you, that was enough to trigger a major reaction in your nervous system. But then you got used to the feeling, because yes, you ran into him again.
Out of the corner of your eye, you recognize the color of his bright orange coat walking on the sidewalk across the street. You just go about your business, making an effort not to look at him. But I don’t know if he was doing the same.
Seongje’s gaze is piercing, deep, and intense. Anyone who has ever been looked at by him would understand. And you, who have been scrutinized so many times by his eyes—whose pupils traced the contours of your body—know the weight of his gaze all too well.
He watched you from afar, from the darkness of those corners; his eyes stood out like a cat’s in the dark. That scared you a little. But if you feared Seongje, you were simply giving him more power.
When you felt your sanity returning to you, you began to hear him. Not directly, but his name. And the Union in general. Were you hallucinating, and were these delusions not only visual but also auditory?
“Geum Seongje.” You didn’t hear the rest of the sentence, but as soon as you recognized his name, your attention went straight there.
“Who?” you asked.
“Geum Seongje,” your friend clarified. “He used to come here, don’t you remember?” I think you got along well with him.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, I remember.”
Your new friends don’t know he’s your ex. Of course you remember him. It still feels like yesterday when he’d come to pick you up from your classroom to walk home together, when you’d spend afternoons at the local convenience store. Why did it still feel so vivid? You just want to leave it behind.
He was out on the streets on his way home, near the bus stop, in the alleys outside the school, at your favorite café—your friends had mentioned him. The only place left was your house. And it seems his Panini album of reappearing in your life is now complete.
You saw him from afar, yes, but the fact that he’d go this far—hanging around your neighborhood, with a perfect view of your living room window—gave you chills. You didn’t say anything; you wanted to handle it on your own, because only you knew how to handle Seongje.
But it seems you forgot that, because your first plan was that if he saw you with someone else, this harassment would stop. How naive. Seriously? The crazy, possessive Seongje? If he caught you with someone else, there’d be no telling which of the three would end up dead.
But you did it anyway. A very nice guy named Go Hyuntak was the one you chose. Actually, you were interested in him—he was the boyfriend of a friend of yours. But the moment the guy’s hand touched a part of your body, you smelled smoke.
One night, you went out to take out the trash in the alley behind your house. Only to run into Seongje. You froze.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, startled.
He lit a cigarette before even looking at you. He took a drag and looked at you. “Seriously? Go Hyuntak?”
“What are you doing here?” you asked again.
“I’m wherever the hell I want to be.” He took a step toward you. You backed away. “I don’t know if you’re trying to make me jealous or what, but that shit doesn’t work on me.”
“Then why are you rubbing it in?” you replied shrewdly. Seeing himself exposed, he sighed, feigning calm, but you knew him.
“That idiot Eungjang…” he muttered to himself. “I wrecked his knee a while back, but maybe I’ll do it again to see if he learns not to meddle in what isn’t his,” he said, turning back to you.
“I’m not yours.”
“I didn’t say that.” “We all know what he meant.” “But you’re not his.”
“Just go away, okay?” you asked, looking away, a little fed up.
He listened to you. He dropped his cigarette on the ground, stubbed it out, and turned away. You went back home with your heart beating a little faster. You hated that Seongje still wasn’t completely indifferent to you. But you didn’t hate Seongje; you never hate something you once loved.
But you never would have expected… this.
Seongje, at your front door, with messy hair, his uniform and body dirty, cuts and scrapes all over his face, limping and with a bandage on his foot. You both stand in silence. He because he doesn’t know what to say, you because you don’t know what to say.
But there’s no need—you understand everything. You know exactly why he’s there: he has nowhere else to go. He doesn’t have a family waiting for him at home, he doesn’t have friends to turn to—there’s only you. In theory, you were nothing to him, but to him, you were still everything.
“What happened to you?” you break the tense silence. He refuses to look at you.
You sigh, assessing the situation. Your ex-boyfriend in a vulnerable state, your parents were just out. You didn’t want to, but something tugged at the depths of your soul, something telling you, “Help him; he can’t ask for help, but he’s screaming for it anyway.”
“What happened to your foot? Where are your glasses?” He remained silent, as if waiting for something. “Are you going to talk or…?” you sighed. “Okay, come in.”
He does, and you close the door behind you. He looks embarrassed. Now you’re basically in charge of him, so your brain gets to work trying to handle the situation.
“Don’t sit on the couch, you’re all dirty.” You turn your head, looking at him closely, trying to figure out a little more about what he got himself into. It’s obvious he was in a fight, but with whom? “What happened to you?”
“I got into a fight,” he spits out.
“Yeah, but with whom? No one’s ever left you… like this.”
“Some idiot named Eunjang.”
You didn’t know who he was talking about, but you thought it was Baku he’d fought with. The mud and dirt on his uniform were starting to dirty your house. Only one idea came to mind.
“Go take a shower; I think I have some old clothes of yours to give you,” you say, walking toward your room.
“You still keep my clothes? How much do you miss me?” You shoot him a withering look, and he doesn’t apologize, but he stays silent.
As you grab a set of clothes to give him, you try to assess the situation you’re facing. Now you have an injured stray kitten in your living room, waiting for you to take care of it. You know you probably shouldn’t, but deep down, the love you had for Seongje keeps softening your heart toward him.
You hand him the clothes and help him turn on the shower. You wait for him outside while you grab a few things to tend to his wounds a little.
When he comes out, you’re waiting for him on the couch with a small first-aid kit you found in one of the kitchen cabinets.
“What do I do with this?” he asks, referring to his dirty clothes.
“Leave them there; I’ll take them and bring them back to you tomorrow. Now come here.”
He sits down next to you on the couch. You open the kit and take out something to disinfect the cuts scattered across his face. When you have to get close to his face, your heart beats hard—not fast, but it feels heavier, and you feel it wanting to burst out.
Seongje still seems stupidly attractive to you, seeing him fresh out of the shower, with wet hair, covered in wounds. You don’t know it, but there’s something about him that makes him look better than ever.
“Who did this to you?” you ask as you press a gauze pad against his wound. It stings when it touches his skin.
“I was beating up some guys from Eunjang when Yeon Sieun showed up and we started fighting.”
“Who is Sieun? Did he hurt your foot?”
“A crazy guy who, from what I heard, stabbed a guy with a pen and broke another guy’s foot with some weights. He stabbed me in the foot.”
“They stabbed your foot?” you asked in astonishment.
“Yeah, can’t you see I’m not even wearing a shoe on that foot? Can’t you see it’s bandaged?” he said, annoyed and defensive. You finished cleaning his cuts and went back to get some ointment. “The idiot first tried to stab me with a pen, then hit me with a flowerpot, took off my glasses, and stabbed me with the arm of my glasses.” You laughed a little because the situation was… unusual. “What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing.” You paused. “And did you go to the hospital?” You leaned in to apply the ointment to the wounds.
“No, but at the station they told me I have to get a tetanus shot because it was metal.”
“The police station? Did they catch you?”
“What do you think?” he said sarcastically. “And then I ran into Na BaekJin.” He didn’t even ask how I was…
“And how are you?”
“Fine.”
Now that your little nursing stint was over, you were back to being a hairdresser. You were standing at the foot of the chair, behind Seongje, who had his eyes half-closed. You ran the dryer through his hair gently.
You don’t know what’s wrong with you; you don’t understand why this man makes you feel this way. Is it pure maternal instinct and pity? Or is it just love? You still loved him. You knew it. If that weren’t the case, you wouldn’t have let it happen. Or maybe it was nostalgia.
You unplugged the hair dryer and started putting it away in a box. You also rearranged the sofa so it could serve as a comfortable bed for Seongje.
You were adjusting the cushion so it wouldn’t rub against the armrest. When you’re done, you step back. You go to turn off the light, do so, and before heading into the hallway, you pause and look at the man lying in your living room.
You sigh.
“When are you going to the hospital to get the vaccine?” you murmured calmly.
“I don’t know. Maybe when I have time,” he replied in the darkness.
“We’ll go tomorrow. I’ll go with you.”
“No need. I’ll go alone another day,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance and sighed. “I don’t know why you keep helping me.”
“Because no one else will.”
You let that slip and walk away. Even though you can’t see him anymore, you can feel him. You feel how those words changed the air and the atmosphere between you. He knows you’re the only person he has (sort of)—you know him, you know his life, you were his girlfriend.
Your footsteps fade away as you reach your room. You close the door and breathe. You don’t think about anything. You enjoy the moment when your mind is blank. You like doing this; it makes you feel good. But it’s true that sometimes you feel like instead of talking to Seongje, he’s spitting in your face like a child.
Maybe you’re seeing him as a child. Not as a child, but more like a teenager—the way you first met him. As you go to bed, you wonder: Why is he letting himself be taken care of? The Seongje you know wouldn’t let anyone touch his hair, let alone dry it for him. Maybe not the one you know, but the one he is now. The bad boy, violent and sadistic, without a shred of empathy or any other visible emotion. Because the Seongje you know was this one.
You stare at the ceiling, lying on your back, hands on your stomach. What are you getting yourself into? Or where are you getting yourself back into? You don’t want another disappointment. You don’t want to knock on his door one day and tell him it’s over, only to run away, and then have him show up at your door later like a lost kitten. You don’t want an endless cycle where you’re begging him for a change, for the slightest effort, to make you a priority.
You bite your lip. Thoughts and worries flood your head. You just take a deep breath, hoping that when you exhale, the chains will vanish like dust on a surface.
You shouldn’t be so kind. There’s a song that talks about that, or has a line about it. “Never be too kind; you forget to be smart.” And maybe the smartest thing would have been for him to leave early in the morning. And for those minutes at the hospital to be the last ones you spend together.
Sleep is drawing near. Your eyes feel heavy, your senses are fading, your body is relaxing. And in the distance, something else is approaching. Your bedroom door opens. You just pretend to be asleep; maybe he just needs something and has come to ask you for it. Through your eyelashes, you see Seongje’s silhouette in the doorway, getting closer and closer. Before you know it, he climbs into your bed.
He settles in and forces you to make room for him. Half-asleep, you see what he’s doing; you feel his hand brush past your waist and gently trace up your torso. The first thing you think is that he wants to have sex. Given the circumstances—how tired you were—you were going to reject him. Your hand reaches for his, trying to push it away from your body. But just then, his head falls. It falls onto your chest, nestling into the curve of your neck.
At first, you don’t understand. You don’t understand what he wants. Seongje was a very sexual person when you were together, so it would make sense for him to want to sleep with you that night. But no. He was looking for something else. Something different. He was looking for companionship, comfort. He was looking for you. Not your body, but you.
Once the shock had passed and you’d analyzed the situation, you rested your hand on his back. His legs were tangled, his face hidden in your neck, his breath caressing your collarbones. It was quite… serene. You just accepted it.
When you woke up, nothing had moved. He was still in the same position he’d fallen asleep in. The two of you were still entwined. You know he’s a heavy sleeper, so you easily break free from his grip. You crawl across the bed and manage to touch the floor with your feet.
The house is completely silent: no one is there, the couch is untouched, as if he’d tidied everything up before rushing over to you. As if he hadn’t even touched the bed.
In the kitchen, you grab a glass and fill it with water. You don’t usually eat breakfast because it makes you feel sick later in the day. But today you need it; today is sure to be a long day. Plus, you need to process last night. And the future too, because knowing him, this isn’t a one-time thing, a slip-up or accident that happened one night, just by chance.
You’re going back to him. And he’s coming back to you.
. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋsummary you have a new roommate. at first you find her attractive but then you realise that you are t compatible, or that’s what you thought.
. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋpairing semi x fem!reader
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋgenre fluff with suggestive touches, enemies to friends to lovers
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋwarnings college au, Mild language, light angst, slow burn idk, mutual pining, unresolved romantic tension, roommates to lovers (eventually), enemies to lovers, mentions of sex.
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋwc 16.9k
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋnote hello, well hehe. first long fic that i post ever !! hope you like it. i have a lot on progress btw, but i recently finished this one so.. love you, enjoy! and do not revise when translating so if it has mistakes im so sorry
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcredits this fic has been heavily inspired in this one from @banananutmuffin28, and also by this hcs by @ang3ltine. so this wasn't 100% my idea
When you enrolled in fashion school, you never imagined that the first aesthetic disaster you would encounter would not be a garment, but your first roommate. She stole your chargers, moved and hid your things, used your products, and broke the appliances you bought together. Unbearable. That's why you asked for a roommate change as soon as the year ended. You couldn't choose who you were paired with, so it was kind of like a blind date.
You arrived very excited, having imagined a thousand different scenarios. What if she was just like the previous one, or worse, maybe she was disgusting and hateful. Or maybe not, maybe you would find your best friend for life, you would go to each other's weddings, to the gender reveal parties for each other's children, and your houses would be next door to each other with a door connecting them. The reality was perhaps better than you expected, or so you thought at the time.
When you arrived at the door of your new home, nerves ran through your entire body, from your head to your fingertips, making your keys shake, ending in the pit of your stomach. You thought you would be the first to arrive, but no, your roommate had gotten there first. She was in the middle of the living room, with her back to you, crouching down and taking things out of a box to put them on the console under the TV.
When she turned around, you swore you had seen an angel fallen into hell. She had an angelic, delicate, feminine face. This contrasted with her style, as she had several piercings: one in her nose that looked like a star, a silver ring in the center of her lower lip, and several others decorating her ears. She had short black hair that matched her eyes and her short painted nails. She was dressed simply: an oversized white T-shirt and short denim shorts worn out by the heat of late summer. She was totally your type of woman.
“Hi, I'm SeMi,” she said with a smile. She held out her hand and you took it. It was a... strange way to say hello.
“I'm yn,” you said, smiling.
You mistakenly thought she was a quiet girl, the kind who stayed at home, walked around with headphones on, and wouldn't give you much trouble. Sometimes we judge people too quickly, don't we?
“I heard you had problems with your former partner.”
“Oh, yes. Differences. You can't get along with everyone.”
You waited to see if the girl would drop her confident expression. She seemed to be analyzing him, as if she were analyzing his soul, and he didn't understand it.
“Well, I'll go choose a room,” you said, breaking the silence.
“Oh, I already chose the big one,” she interrupted you.
Well, you didn't mind having a small room either.
The apartment was worth the price. It had a spacious kitchen, a living room with a large armchair and television, two bedrooms with well-lit windows but no beds, and a bathroom with a shower and bathtub. Of course, there was only a couple of basic pieces of furniture, such as the armchair, the kitchen countertops, and hopefully some stools for the bar, but as you said, the bedrooms didn't have beds. So it was time to go furniture shopping.
And that's what they did the next day, so they wouldn't have to sleep on a pile of blankets for another night. At first, everything was fine; they both bought a bed and other things for their separate bedrooms. The problem was deciding what to put in the common areas.
Judging by SeMi's shopping cart when they saw each other, their styles weren't as different as you expected. Perhaps the big difference was the amount of decorations. While you were focused on practicality, Semi had a cart full of various decorations, posters, and dark-colored stuffed animals.
“Didn't you bring anything to decorate or stuff in your boxes? Why did you buy so much?” you asked her.
“No, I didn't bring anything. You're my first roommate, and it's my first year.”
You were surprised by her answer, as she looked older than you. You were 22 years old, in your penultimate year of college. You thought you had enrolled late because you hadn't done so as soon as you came of age, but you were busy working to pay for your degree without worrying about working at least in your final years. Semi seemed to be 25 or 26, a little older to be taking a long degree course lasting more than five years.
“Okay, what kind of cushions do you want for the living room sofa? Black? Beige?” you broke the ice.
“What?” he complained and grimaced. “Do you live in boring-land?”
“I think it's best to go with something basic so that it's... bearable for both of us,” you protested.
“Well, black might look good.”
They moved around most of the store, arguing most of the time. While you wanted wood, beige, and neutral colors, Semi was trying to make the apartment dining room look like an abstract art exhibition.
“Each different chair would be fine. You could take turns eating on a different one each day and see which one is best,” she suggested playfully.
“You're not serious, are you?” you said worriedly, seeing that the models Semi was looking at closely were a transparent chair, one with three legs, and another where it wasn't clear where the seat was.
“What's wrong, sweetie? What's bothering you? That I have style or that I don't?” she asked teasingly, tilting her head.
You didn't answer. It wasn't worth arguing about.
In the end, you reached an agreement: you would decide the big things and Semi would take care of the small (tiny) details. But still, the two found themselves in sync several times and bought a heart-shaped mirror for the bathroom, an ashtray, softly scented candles, a blanket for the sofa, and a magnetic board for the refrigerator to write things down.
Once home, they began to tidy everything up. Their apartment looked very nice and cozy. The warm lights, the decorated walls, the blanket on the sofa. You liked it, and apparently Semi did too.
But the apparent peace you desired and thought you had predicted did not exist, and proof of its absence came the next day: loud music. You weren't really doing much, just putting away the things that were left so you could throw away the moving boxes. Suddenly you felt your rib cage shake from a loud noise, a crash, you thought. But that noise took the form of musical notes coming from your roommate's room.
You weren't angry, maybe you didn't even know you were home, at the end of the day you were someone who didn't make much noise. You knocked on her door, but she didn't hear you. You knocked a second time, and still nothing. Third time's the charm, or not.
You interrupted to find yourself in a cave-like room that smelled of smoke and dampness. There were clothes on the floor, moving boxes still unopened, it was too much of a contrast to the peace of your room.
“Semi, could you turn down the music?” Again, no response. “Can you turn down the volume?” You raised your voice to see if he would hear you.
“I heard you the first time,” he said and gestured that he would do it, but he didn't.
Another day, you were cleaning the kitchen after lunch, so you sat down on the sofa to watch a series when Semi arrived.
“Why the hell are you moving my things?” she complained angrily. “I didn't ask you to do that.”
“I'm sorry, I was just cleaning the kitchen.”
“But you leave things where I put them, right?”
“You mean I left all your glasses and plates in the sink?” She just walked away annoyed.
Their arguments were normal when the school year started. Mostly because of the mess Semi left behind (and was). Also because of other things, like arrival times. Semi went to parties one after another, or hung out with friends, or just went out. She often came home drunk or high, making a lot of noise. If you really saw that she was in bad shape, you took care of putting her to bed, but only sometimes.
Perhaps the worst thing was when she brought people to the apartment. Semi was a lesbian, which wasn't bad, but she was also a womanizer. There was a time when she brought at least one woman to her bed every week. This was torture. You didn't know if it was because Semi was good at it or because all the women she brought home were singers who loved to scream with every wave of pleasure their brains detected. No matter the day or time, Semi could show up with a woman at any moment. There were even mornings when you had to cook three breakfasts. And you always heard, “Don't worry about my roommate, she won't do anything.” Maybe not to them, but to you, Semi.
But perhaps the worst time was when she brought her friends over. It was a Tuesday afternoon, the sun was setting, the golden hour painted every room with windows, everything was peaceful. Until you reached the door of your apartment.
The closer you got, the louder the music became. You thought it was a neighbor, but it wasn't. When you turned the key, you found the inevitable truth: a band... The image was most curious: a purple-haired guy with colored nails standing in the middle of your living room with a microphone, a boy with hair down to his ears holding a bass guitar, Semi to one side playing the electric guitar—which you had no idea he could do—and another boy recording them.
They all looked at each other for a few seconds, none of them seeming to understand, least of all Semi.
“Damn it, Minsu, we told you to close the door. Cut,” complained the grape-headed guy.
“I did,” stammered the shy guy, who looked like he had been kidnapped by this evil team and forced to record their songs to Satan.
“I'm Semi's roommate. I have the key to the apartment,” you clarified. Semi dropped his guitar and ran towards you.
“Beautiful, why don't you go for a walk? You said you wouldn't be here until 8.”
“The thing I had to do was canceled. And you didn't tell me about this.”
Semi played with his tongue as he spoke. When he finished, he clicked his tongue, sighed, and turned to look at his friends. With a glance, they understood each other. But before they could start talking, you interrupted.
“After you didn't let me sleep yesterday, you should...” You were about to continue, but they interrupted you.
“Did you sleep with her, Semi?” asked the long-haired boy.
“What?”
“Oh no!” They finally agreed on something: they didn't like each other.
“Please, Namgyu. Don't be ridiculous.” He turned his gaze to you, looked you up and down before opening his mouth again. “Besides... you're not my type.”
Ouch.
“We're leaving, okay? When you guys get divorced, call us, Semi.” They started gathering their things. Semi looked at you as if he wanted to kill you.
“See you later,” he said as he saw them off at the door.
As soon as they left, you started arguing.
“Why did you bring a band to our apartment?” I didn't know you had a band,“ you complained. ”Besides, they moved all the furniture around."
“Oh, please, do you know how difficult it is to shoot a video in an apartment made of vanilla ice cream? It was impossible to make it look good with all those fake plants in the background,” she replied. “And our apartment? Please, this has more of you in it than me.”
"Because you don't do anything. You don't clean, you don't tidy up, now I'll be the one to tidy up and get rid of this marijuana smell.
"It's more relaxing than your stupid incense.
"What's wrong with my incense?
“Nothing, Misty Day.” I snorted and rolled my eyes.
“That doesn't matter. Who were they and what were they doing here? You have a band, really?”
“We're just helping Thanos write a song. For God's sake, it's none of your business.” She left and slammed the door shut.
Damn it, you hated her, but you couldn't deny that she looked stupidly attractive when she was angry.
Many times you wanted to rip Semi's head off, but other times—very few—you wanted to rip her clothes off. She attracted you. She was very—too—close to what you once described as your ideal type. And she didn't help. Not just because she was born with such beautiful features, or because every modification to her body suited her so well. What complicated everything was her lack of modesty.
Sometimes she would come out of the bathroom wearing nothing but her underwear and shorts, her partially toned abdomen and white skin still glistening from the steam. Every line and curve of her body gave you the most intrusive thoughts. Semi also ran around campus every morning, and when you caught up with her just as she was coming back... your mouth watered. His short hair, stuck to his forehead, his cheeks flushed from exercise... You didn't want to know what effect that had on you. Luckily, it went away every time you argued.
You were taking a shower after a long day. You were using a shampoo you had bought a long time ago, and you loved it, but you hadn't seen it in any stores since. So, you were taking care of it.
To your surprise, when you used it, you noticed a different consistency, much more watery and less dense. Someone had added water to it. But before that, someone had used it up. You wrapped yourself in a towel and, still dripping wet, went to Semi's room.
When she let you in, you noticed her hair was slightly wet, which was definitive proof that she had used your things without permission.
“Hi, sweetie. What can I do for you?” she asked, with her back to you.
“You used my shampoo, didn't you?” you sounded annoyed.
“Oh, yes.” She paused. “It's just that mine ran out. But I added water so you could still use it.”
“You ruined it! Now I don't know where to get a new one,” you complained, and she finally turned her eyes to you. She had a playful look, as if she enjoyed it. “Why do you use my things without permission?” She didn't answer.
As if adding water would fix it. What next, use my perfume and refill it with cheap cologne? You left the room very frustrated, having left a huge puddle behind because you were literally dripping wet. This was the last straw. Not only did she annoy you, but she took advantage of you.
That's it. You would find another roommate.
You were lying on the sofa, the blanket up to your neck, watching your favorite show, and during the commercial break you were looking for a roommate: no more blind dates.
You hear the bedroom door open, but you don't pay attention to the noises your roommate is making. She seems to want to leave, as you hear the sound of her favorite boots hitting the floor. But there was a noise you'd never heard from Semi before: a cough.
When you turned around to check what was happening, you found Semi weak, unsteady, and dizzy. She seemed to be ill. She kept coughing and struggled to make her way to the front door.
“Are you going out like that?” you asked her worriedly.
“I'm warm, Mom,” she scoffed, but you accepted it, even if you sounded like a mother.
“Semi, you look emaciated. You look sick.” It seemed that your descriptive adjectives about her condition offended her because she gave you a threatening look. “Don't be stupid, okay? Come here.”
You grabbed Semi by the wrists and dragged her roughly toward the sofa. She immediately fell down due to her dizziness. She didn't really put up much of a fight, which was something you didn't expect. Then you covered her with your blanket so she wouldn't get cold. You went to the kitchen to look for medicine, but it wasn't there.
You searched for a couple of minutes without success, so you went to get your personal supply from your bag. When you passed through the living room, you noticed that the commercial break was over, so you had to hurry to miss as little of your show as possible. When you returned, you gave Semi the pills and a glass of water, but something was strange: she seemed to be quite focused on your show.
“Doesn't she realize that her friend is betraying her? Is she stupid?” she complained.
“How do you know? You haven't even seen the show.”
“First, it's obvious, and second, I watch it out of the corner of my eye when you put it on here on TV,” you explained, avoiding eye contact.
Seeing her like that, vulnerable and in a way in need of your help, was nice. Maybe because you saw her more as a human and not just as a demon sent to punish you for your bad deeds.
– Shall I take you to your bed?
– No, I'm fine here. – Didn't she mind spending time with you...? – I thought you hated me.
– Only sometimes, – you said playfully. She laughed.
You sat down next to her feet and watched the series together. Even though she was only watching out of the corner of her eye, Semi had a pretty good idea of what was going on in the series and you hardly had to explain anything to her. You liked this temporary peace, but you knew it wouldn't last long.
And you were right, they had a big argument. The following Saturday you had extra early classes. You got out of bed, went to the bathroom to wash your face, and when you looked in the mirror... Oh my God. What the hell was that?
Stickers. Fucking stickers.
There weren't just two, or three, or five, there were dozens. They covered the entire mirror, you could barely see your reflection. They were also bizarre and obscene. That mirror was one of the symbols of peace in your apartment, it was one of the few things you both liked. Was she declaring war on you? Didn't she like you taking care of her the other day?
“Semi, what happened to the mirror?” you said abruptly as you entered your roommate's room without permission, who, to your surprise, was awake.
“Shit, yn!” she cried out in fright. “Knock on the door.”
“I don't care about your rules if you don't respect mine.”
“Oh my God, you're overreacting,” she replied, stressed.
“I don't want that to be the first thing I see when I wake up. It's obscene,” you said, calmer now.
“Well, I do. With a roommate like you, it's necessary...”
You felt very offended at that moment. You had really gone too far with the arguments. You reconsidered the idea of changing roommates after last Thursday's episode. You dismissed it, hoping that maybe this was an opportunity, but the problem wasn't you, it was Semi.
That day didn't get any better. With every passing second, you felt more and more weighed down. In your extra class on textiles and how to care for them, you gave the wrong answer when you raised your hand, and the teacher made you feel stupid. With a lump in your throat, you continued with your routine, and on your way to your next class, your zipper broke, causing your things to fall out. In your rush not to be late, you left things lying around.
When that combo of classes was over, you went to the studio that is open on weekends for campus students to use at any time, only to discover that coffee had been spilled on a design while you were away. You were downcast, you had a late lunch, alone on a bench under a roof because it had started to rain. All you wanted was to talk to someone.
You called the only person you trusted. You didn't have many friends on campus; in fact, you had none. They were just classmates you hung out with. Your friends were far away, but it was worth it. You had known them for years, and ironically, you were inseparable. But no one answered. Your emergency contact had failed you. You were alone. You had no choice but to run home.
As the raindrops soaked through all your clothes and backpack, your shoes looked like the Pacific Ocean. The cold was killing you, and you knew you would get sick if you didn't hurry. The raindrops were fat, just like the tears in your eyes. You started to cry, not just because of the weight of the day, but because of everything.
You reached the building, took the elevator, leaving a huge puddle with every step you took. Your clothes weighed more than a thousand elephants, and your eyes were swollen. Seeing the door to your apartment was the only relief. But you didn't want to go in; you didn't want to see Se-mi.
You went in, the light and the warm thermostat embraced you. Your room at the end of the hall called to you, but first you needed to take a shower. You opened the bathroom door to find the least pleasant surprises.
“Hey, y/n. I took off all the stickers. I shouldn't have,” he said, surprised to see your state. “Are you okay? Are you crying?”
“I just had a bad day, Semi. Thanks for that,” you smiled at him.
You had never shown yourself like this to Semi before. Yes, perhaps when you compared the two of them, Semi seemed tougher. But she showed even more emotion than you did, a more stressful frustration, a more irrational anger. While you were just firm. So seeing you like this was not on your list of predictions. You saw her thoughtful face for a few seconds, when she decided to take action.
She went to your room, opened your closet, and started snooping around. You were going to stop her, but you were too tired for that. She came back, gave you clean clothes, and ordered you to take a shower. You did, you showered and put on the outfit she gave you, which wasn't bad, but it wasn't your usual style.
When you came out of the bathroom, she was sitting on the couch looking at her phone, and her gaze shifted to you when she noticed you coming out.
“Better?” she asked. You nodded. “You have a lot of black underwear. I thought you'd wear something lighter. But that's okay, black is my favorite color.”
You gave her a warm smile in gratitude for her kindness.
“Why were you crying?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“I had a bad day.”
“Oh, if it's about this morning, I'm sorry. It wasn't right to do that,” she apologized, sounding sincere.
“It's not that, Semi. I appreciate your apology. I shouldn't have yelled at you.”
“Then why? You can tell me. I'm not good at giving advice, but if you want someone to listen to you...” It was just what you needed.
Semi wasn't your best friend from childhood. She hadn't been there for all your milestones, your joys, and your misfortunes, but she was there at the exact moment and place that made you give in. Still, you didn't understand why you gave in to talking to her. Maybe you were just being sensitive. But you had no idea why she was being so kind. After telling her about your disastrous day, you asked her.
“I don't like to see you cry like that. You were always so optimistic, even when I drove you crazy, so I worry when I see you upset.” She paused. “Besides, if you haven't talked to anyone, it's not good for you to feel alone and shut yourself away to cry in silence. I know what that's like.”
You took a deep breath. This was a chance to start over with her. You had opened your heart, and she had opened hers, albeit just a little.
The next morning, you found a note on the whiteboard they had bought to put on the refrigerator. “I hope today is a better day. -Semi.” You smiled at the sweet gesture.
The following days were excellent. They hardly argued, and if they did, it was minor, and they apologized later. In addition, every Thursday they got together to watch the new episode of your (her) favorite series. You finally felt that the place that was supposed to be your home felt like home.
You were calm; they weren't friends either, but they finally got along. She often borrowed your charger because hers was rough and sometimes didn't work, and when that happened, she would be in your room.
“Hello, beautiful. Guess what I'm going to ask you,” she said sarcastically.
“My charger is on my bed,” you replied curtly, focused on your studies.
She noticed your concentration, that you didn't even look up. So when she went to get your charger, she took the opportunity to lie down on your bed, her feet propped up on the pillow.
“And what are you doing?” he asked with the curiosity of a small child.
“I'm studying. Why? Aren't you?” She shook her head in response. You frowned and turned to look at her. “What are you studying?”
“Law.”
“You're 26 years old and you're not even studying? How do you plan to graduate?”
“I'm not going to. In fact, I want to get kicked out for bad grades.” You laughed, thinking she was being sarcastic, but she was serious. “I want to be a tattoo artist. I've always wanted to, but my parents don't.”
“And what does that have to do with college and law?”
“If I get kicked out, my parents will have no choice but to accept that I want to be a tattoo artist, and they'll leave me alone.”
“Not a bad idea,” you mumbled, concentrating on your textbook, which you were pretending to read. You were more interested in your conversation with Semi.
“What do you want to be? A fashion designer, right?”
“I want to have my own boutique. And someday, I want to open one in Paris...” You paused, daydreaming. “Or Milan.”
“It's not that impossible.” You turned to look at her. She had a cute smile on her face. She was the first person who didn't tell you it was crazy.
“Neither is yours. You'll be a famous tattoo artist.” You have... a certain charm.
“Have I won you over yet, or not?” she joked, nudging your shoulder. The two of you exchanged smiles and soft laughter, feeling that there was someone who understood you in a certain way and supported you.
After that, she left you alone and left the room.
There was a light, a glimmer of hope, at the end of the tunnel you were approaching: their friendship. Now they shared more than just that Thursday night TV show; they ate together, whereas before they would each go their separate ways after you cooked dinner. Your dinner, that is, but Semi would help herself without asking because if it were up to her, she would live on instant noodles.
On Thursday nights, after the weekly episode, they would stay up chatting for a while before going to bed. It was trivial stuff, but once or twice they touched on personal topics or the past, but it wasn't the norm. In fact, they often changed the subject or avoided it altogether. Another thing was that you agreed to incorporate several of Semi's touches into the common areas: they replaced some minimalist paintings in the living room with some doodles that Semi sarcastically called art, then when the rug was mysteriously stained with a large drink stain, it was replaced with a darker one that looked worn but you liked, oh, and some stickers were allowed to stay on the mirror.
But not everything was rosy within those four walls. One night Semi went out, she didn't come home late. You knew that when she went out, waiting for her for dinner wasn't reasonable, so you cooked something simple and left her some for when she arrived. You left a note on the board telling her, but the next morning you didn't get a thank you when you saw her, just the dishes piled up in the sink again.
That time she disappointed you, reminding you that Semi was Semi, the same girl you met that summer, the one you had fought with all fall. She went for a run and only said good morning to you. But then you saw the chalkboard, your message was gone, there was a new one: “Thanks for the food ;). I went and bought you some coffee before you woke up, it's hidden. I wanted to surprise you and thank you.” They weren't the games you were used to playing, but you didn't dislike them either.
What you really hated was that Semi was ashamed of you outside the dormitory. Since you studied completely different subjects, you didn't see each other much because you didn't share classes. But sometimes you ran into her in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the bathrooms, and she would only smile if no one else was looking. Was she ashamed of you? Was Semi pretentious?
“How do I look?” Again, Semi interrupted you in your room almost without warning.
“Pretty.”
“That's it?” She tilted her head, waiting for you to add something to your description. You shook your head. “You're not even busy, look at me.”
You listened to her. You had barely noticed her the first time, so now you would pay more attention. She was wearing a large black wool sweater, which she took advantage of to let the sleeve fall over her shoulder. She had some old-looking greenish jeans that were also large. It wasn't bad; she was pretty.
“Not bad,” you added.
“So I'll go out like this, right?” You figured it out; she was looking for something.
“What are you looking for?” you said playfully, settling into your bed.
“Just some wise fashion advice,” you laughed.
“Come here, okay?” She approached you slowly as you got up from the bed. “Well, maybe we could add a long silver chain to match your piercings, a belt so your pants don't fall down in the middle of the street...” You paused. “And do you use handbags?”
You didn't know where she was going, or what for, or with whom, you didn't ask her and she didn't tell you. It didn't matter. You were having fun together. It was one of the few times she sought you out for more than just your charger, she wanted your advice and cared about your opinion. That... was sweet.
You advised her on what to wear, but you didn't care what she wore because with that face and body, everything would look good on her. You even gave her some things you didn't use, things that were gathering dust in your closet.
“Thanks, I really like it,” she smiled, looking at herself in the mirror.
“It doesn't really matter what you wear, everything looks good on you,” she laughed, and for a second she became shy. She sat down on your bed.
“Damn, I'm really lucky to have you as a roommate.”
“Why? Because you have a personal fashion guru?” You waited for the compliment, but something unexpected came instead.
“That too. But I was talking about your bed,” she blurted out. Your face was confused. “It's very comfortable. Don't get mad, but sometimes I took naps on your bed when you weren't there, even when we had a big fight.”
That was unexpected. Maybe if that situation had happened a month earlier, you would have killed her by stabbing her with the scissors from your desk. But today you saw that confession as a little girl's mischief; at the end of the day, it was harmless. And you couldn't blame her; your bed was very comfortable. But it was your bed.
I don't think Semi ever fully understood this. More than once you caught her sitting there, but more often than not she would innocently come into your room to ask for your help with something, but she would just keep you company and even rummage through your drawers under your supervision. Once you were really focused on your homework, so you didn't pay much attention to what she was saying, and she fell asleep there. She wasn't very embarrassed when she realized it, she just apologized and left.
This was in addition to that time, on a cold winter night when your peaceful sleep was interrupted. You felt something moving your sheets, and when you could see, it was Semi's figure. You sat up in bed while she crawled into your sheets.
“Semi, what are you doing here? Why are you in my bed?” you stammered.
“There's no good heating in my room. Please let me stay...” you agreed silently.
You didn't know if it was because you had just woken up and couldn't process what was happening, or because the size of your bed meant you were very close together, or because the scene seemed like something out of a 2012 One Direction fanfiction, but your senses were confused.
She was in front of you, catching up on sleep, curled up in your bed. It was just nerves; pretty girls like them didn't get into your bed often, if ever. But you wouldn't let Semi get into your bed, not her, not a womanizer. If you fell in love with Semi, it would be the end of you. You were really foolish when you fell in love, and if the girl found out, she would hurt you. Semi was a womanizer, having one-night stands with various girls, flirting with every minimally feminine and pretty specimen, and you were there.
She was flirting with you, jokingly, affectionately. That's what you thought, and you knew it deep down. You wouldn't try anything with Semi; you and her were opposites, you had already proven that more than once. And that thing about opposites attracting only applies to physics. The two of you were face to face at that moment. You just took a deep breath and lay down on your back on the bed, avoiding her face.
In the morning, you woke up to the sound of the alarm, the room partially lit by the blinds and the sun. Semi was still next to you. This time she had her back to you. You didn't know if she had class that morning, but you woke her up just in case.
You were gentle, stroking her back and calling her in a low voice. After a few minutes, she woke up, turned around, and gave you a warm smile.
“Good morning, Semi.” You smiled back at her.
“Good morning, y/n.”
“How did you sleep? You weren't cold, were you?”
“Not at all. Your bed is the best.” She had that little smile that characterized her, and seeing her just awake was charming.
After that, the temperatures rose, so the situation did not repeat itself. But what did rise were your “nerves” around Semi. You didn't just feel them that night, you felt them again the next morning when you got home and she was there. You were starting to like Semi, and that was a problem. You didn't want to ruin the friendship that was forming. Besides, Semi... wasn't right for you.
Every time you felt those butterflies, those nerves when she was around, you mentally reviewed the reasons why being with her should not be on your list of priorities: she was a womanizer, with her attitude she would probably play with you, you would have constant fights, you are completely opposite, there is no future for the relationship, there was a possibility that she would cheat on you... You were very afraid of getting hurt.
But your heart ignored everything your head was telling it. It kept pumping more blood than necessary when you saw her face. At this point, you just ignored what was happening. It was a silly infatuation; you would get over it.
Semi, unaware of your feelings, didn't help. After the bed incident, Semi had been a much better roommate. She did favors for you without you even asking. They were small gestures, tiny details. In the morning before leaving, she would leave coffee out early in case you wanted some too, instead of pouring it down the drain.
They started going shopping together. They went to the supermarket once a week, which helped them get along. They had silly, superficial, somewhat funny conversations. They laughed together and made a good comic duo. A good friendly duo. You thought that such a scenario would never happen because of their fights.
“Maybe we should buy something sweet for the week.” Cookies, maybe," you suggested.
“I'm more of a spicy person, but okay.”
“I don't think there are spicy cookies, but okay,” you interrupted your own voice to sigh in amazement. “I used to eat these when I was little! I thought they had been discontinued.”
“Let's get them,” said Semi.
“No, it's not worth it.”
If you wanted them, they were your favorites when you were little. You ate them for breakfast, after school. But you weren't going to spend too much on a memory and nostalgia. Semi noticed your feelings.
When they got home, Semi gave you a nice surprise. He had bought you the cookies. Just because, it was a gift.
“Why did you buy them?”
“I like to see the people I love happy.”
“I love you too.”
It was such a nice gesture that you had to return it.
But Semi was like a loose cannon, and at any moment he would hit something. In this case, you. As their friendship blossomed, respect for the house and its rules grew stronger. You didn't know if it was also because Semi's sex drive was almost non-existent, because strange women were showing up at your house every month at that time.
It had been a good day, the teachers hadn't gone crazy, winter was coming to an end and with it the cold that crept into the classrooms, making classes unbearable. Still, what you were most looking forward to was getting home. It was Thursday, so there would be a new episode of your favorite series to watch with Semi. But what awaited you was not exactly that.
“Hi, do I know you?” There was a girl sitting on the kitchen counter. She had a glass of wine and seemed slightly drunk.
“No, but you must be Semi's partner. He's spoken highly of you.”
“You're not wrong. But who are you?”
“Oh, I'm a friend of Semi's. We were together for a while a few months ago.” Great, you had the womanizer's ex-girlfriend. It seemed he had already slept with all the girls on campus and was starting to repeat himself.
Just then, Semi came out of the bathroom.
“Y/n! It's so good to see you,” she said, but she seemed nervous. “This is... a friend.” She doesn't even believe it herself.
“I hope you don't mind if I stay over...” said the stranger.
“So you're not going to watch the new episode with me?” you asked.
“Um...” she thought about what to say. “Tell me what happens later, okay?”
“Sure,” you said dryly. Semi noticed your annoyance.
You also noticed her nervousness; she wasn't proud of what she was doing. There was a certain guilt, a certain weight in her words that fell on her. She cared about you, but she was leaving you in the lurch to have sex with her ex. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds and said everything they felt with their eyes. No one spoke, but you heard an “I'm sorry” in the air, but you could only think that they were empty words.
That night you hardly slept. After the episode ended, you didn't know what to do. You didn't feel like taking a shower, but you didn't want to sleep either. Those noises hadn't started yet; it was just the ambient noise that was attached to their voices. You went to bed when you felt sleepy, but it was too late. They had started having sex.
The next morning was difficult. You had had a nice dream, dreaming that you had finished college, that you were at your graduation, and then several random characters appeared to congratulate you. But that only made the cold shower waiting for you in the kitchen even worse.
Semi had cooked breakfast, but it wasn't for you. The girl was no longer a stranger; you had seen her before. She had been in Graphic Design for three or two years, and although you had never spoken, you had shared classes on design topics. She was pretty, very pretty. She was very much Semi's type.
In the afternoon, Semi wanted to apologize to you, but she didn't really have to. It wasn't her obligation to watch that silly series or refrain from having adventures. You noticed she wanted to say something, but there was only silence. The atmosphere was tense. They could have gone to their rooms, but they didn't.
“So, what happened in yesterday's episode?” she blurted out to break the ice.
“Not much, the main character's best friend is in the hospital because someone tried to kill her,” you replied without making eye contact.
“We'll watch the next one together.” You just nodded in response. “Are you angry?”
“Not at all.” You were. You looked her in the eyes and feigned innocence. “I don't care what you do, you know that.”
But Semi didn't seem to know what you meant. Because you didn't really mean it, because you cared. Deep down in your heart, you wanted your relationship to go beyond this. Beyond going to the supermarket together, beyond coffee and notes on a whiteboard, beyond her getting into your bed without permission.
Besides, you had nothing to complain about, you were just throwing a childish tantrum. Damn, you really did get silly when you had your eye on someone.
You felt you had to fix it, and Semi's birthday was coming up. You had glanced at her cell phone a few times and saw that Semi wanted a specific digital camera: a Canon A630, as you could read. She was pretty obvious about what she wanted, often sharing things on her social media related to that camera or digital cameras in general. And, judging by the first time you saw them, Semi's friends didn't seem very attentive.
You juggled to get one in good condition. They had been discontinued, or so it seemed. You spent several hours looking for one, but you succeeded.
It was almost midnight, and in less than 10 minutes it would be Semi's birthday. You had prepared a small cake with a candle in the middle and your gift was in a bag.
At 11:59 p.m. you were behind Semi's bedroom door, your hand on the latch, ready to surprise her. You knew she was awake because of the low noise of the music, and she liked to sleep in complete silence. Ironic, because when you wanted to sleep, she used to make noise.
Your alarm, which you had set for midnight, went off, and you went in. Her face was very funny. She wasn't expecting it, she wasn't expecting it from you. She felt she didn't deserve it after putting you through hell, and most recently. But there you were, with a smile on your face, with a small gesture that was huge to any decent heart.
“Happy birthday, blow out the candle.” She obeyed. You could see she was really happy.
“Thank you very much. You didn't have to.”
Then you took out the bag with your gift. She thanked you again before opening it, but when she finally did, she couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe how you had guessed what she wanted.
“Oh my God! How did you get it? How did you know I wanted it?” Her mouth was open, but you could still see her smile.
“I have my sources,” you laughed.
“Oh my God, I love you. Marry me!” An innocent comment, but deep down, maybe she wanted it to be true.
She was like a little girl with a new toy; you had really hit the mark with your gift. She turned it on right away, but it had no battery. She got up and plugged in the camera.
“But how did you know what I wanted?” she asked.
“You're very obvious,” she laughed. “You shared a lot of related things on social media. Did you think I was going to ignore it?”
“How nice that you're so attentive,” she said, smiling. “I never apologized for... well, everything that happened. I'm sorry, I was kind of an idiot.”
“Don't worry. Besides, I was wrong too, I'm sorry.”
“Oh!” she gasped. “It's charged a little, I want to try it out. You'll be the first.”
Before you knew it, the sound of the camera attacked you. But it wasn't the only one; she took more photos during that half hour they were talking, even though she didn't leave.
She told you that she was doing something with some friends tomorrow night, that she was going out and asked if you wanted to come too. You politely declined. The idea of spending hours with the curious people you met that distant afternoon when Semi and you fought didn't sound very fun.
Anyway, your wishes didn't come true. The outing had been canceled, and it was going to be at the apartment. You told Semi it didn't bother you, when in fact it did.
You arrived at the apartment in the afternoon and helped him prepare a few things for the gathering, which was going to be a small affair. Semi mentioned that he didn't like to do anything big for his birthday.
When they arrived, you greeted them politely and went to your room. Everyone from the band was there, plus a new guy. The group consisted of: SuBong aka Thanos, a moderately well-known rapper with purple hair, a drug addict, and very loud; Namgyu, a guy with hair down to his ears, a cat-like face, rowdy but not as much as Thanos; Minsu, a shy guy who didn't seem to fit in with the group at first glance, but did very well, especially since he was close to Semi; Gyeongsu, the only one who seemed normal in the group; and Semi.
The background noise from your room was a very varied playlist, laughter, shouting, and them talking in general. It didn't really bother you, as long as they didn't decide to form a band again. You felt like going to the bathroom, but you didn't want them to see you, and if you put it off too long, you'd end up having an accident.
“Y/n,” you heard Semi's voice. “Come here for a second, okay?”
You went into the living room, where everyone was sitting in a circle around the messy coffee table.
"I think the first and last time you saw each other wasn't the best way to reflect your beautiful personalities, so get to know each other.
“Semi's roommate, huh?” asked SuBong, and you nodded. “They get along better, I see they've already slept together.” Why the hell was that the only thing Semi's friends thought when they saw you? You laughed nervously before answering.
“Uh, no, no. We're just good friends. We were able to overcome our differences,” you replied.
“Why do you ask? Do you want to join us?” Semi joked. She nudged you with her elbow, then looked at you and they laughed like accomplices.
“Oh my God, don't make us imagine that. How repulsive it would be for someone to see you naked,” added Namgyu.
“Tsk, they find you repulsive just by looking at your face,” replied the girl next to you.
“Okay, okay, don't fight on my birthday,” the one who seemed the most sane raised his voice to restore order, while the shy one next to Semi fell silent.
You stayed there for a while and learned several things. One, that Semi was different when you were alone than when she was with other people. At first she was fine, as usual, but then she became cold and uncomfortable with your presence. She would just look at you casually, and quite intently, until you looked back at her and she nervously looked away.
Two, Semi talked a lot about you. Not in the best way sometimes, or at least not at first. Which was logical given their previous dynamic.
“Semi has talked a lot about you. She's told us several times how you...” Semi interrupted.
“Shut up,” she said coldly.
Every time something was said about you, or a joke was made about you two being more than just friends, Semi quickly denied it and got angry. Her friends pointed out her obvious nervousness.
You didn't want to think anything crazy, she must just be a little anxious because you were in the group for the first time. Maybe she wanted them to like you, or she wanted you to like them. It was just a concern between friends.
Later that night, everyone was leaving. Only Namsu, or Namgyu, was left. They called him different names and you didn't understand what his name was. You were in the kitchen washing the leftover dishes when the boy came in and leaned against the counter.
“Since you became friends, Semi is less unbearable, you know?”
“Yes, I think I was the one who noticed it the most,” you chuckled softly.
“And what will you do when she leaves college? Will you find another roommate or will you be alone?” You hadn't thought that far ahead. Besides, you would finish your degree before her... but then you remembered that Semi wanted to be expelled.
“I'll find someone else before the end of the year, maybe someone who's studying the same degree as me.”
“I'm sorry to say that by then Semi will have you wrapped around her little finger and will break your heart when she leaves,” I hissed. You just laughed to hide the fact that just imagining that scenario made you feel uncomfortable.
Semi was in the bathroom during all this, and when she came out, the guy took the opportunity to say goodbye and left. Semi still looked angry.
“Are you okay? Did you have a good time?” She didn't answer, so you repeated what you had said. “Are you okay?”
“I heard you the first time.” “I'm fine.” You felt intimidated by her cold, dry tone.
“Okay, fine.” Feeling that you were done, you wanted to leave. You felt out of place and like you were bothering everyone during the whole meeting, and Semi's attitude seemed to confirm it.
“Why are you flirting with my friends?” she asked angrily.
“What?” You were confused.
“With Namgyu. You were laughing a lot together.” She complained. Did she like Namgyu?
“What? No. You must have misunderstood. I'm sorry if it looked that way. We were talking about you, and about...” She interrupted you.
“I'm not interested.” Her voice, her tone, the way she looked at you... Your eyes welled up with tears when she turned away.
The next morning, it was as if nothing had happened. So you asked her what had happened to make her take it that way.
“Are you okay about yesterday? Well, are we okay?” She nodded. She came up to you and stroked your arm apologetically.
“Yes... I'm sorry. It's just that Namgyu isn't the best person in the world, and having him near you scared me.”
You accepted her apology. It sounded sincere, that she really loved you and was just being protective.
Things between the two of them were getting better and better from then on. The series they watched together was getting closer and closer to the climax. After that Thursday when Semi skipped the weekly episode, nothing like that ever happened again. Every Thursday night, you were ready and eager for it to start.
“Pass me my blanket,” Semi ordered. You looked around for it, but it wasn't there.
“It's not here.”
“I left it in my room. Can you go get it?” she asked, pouting. Before she could beg you again, you covered her with part of the blanket you were using. “Oh, thank you.”
That forced them to be closer than usual. There, your feelings took over. You felt like she could hear your heavy, rapid heartbeat, that she could hear your deep breathing as you tried to calm down, but she never mentioned anything.
That day she was especially tired. You hadn't even finished the chapter when you felt a weight on your shoulder. It was Semi's head; she had fallen asleep. You didn't move at all; you didn't want to wake her up. And before you knew it, you fell asleep too.
The sound of your alarm interrupted your rest, waking you with a start. Semi also woke up, realizing she had fallen asleep on your shoulder. She didn't say anything, just smiled a little sheepishly. It was a tender moment for both of you.
Semi also started to develop good habits. Like not bringing any women to the apartment, seriously, none. Maybe because all her friends were men, because she started to attract them more often. You didn't spend time with them, they were a separate group and they respected that, also because you loved seeing Semi so happy after seeing them.
Another thing, Semi was now also a chef. She cooked, you didn't have to cook for her anymore, it was magic. Sometimes, if the day was very sunny and God decided to shine on you, Semi would cook for both of you without you even asking.
They were starting to form a real connection. They already had inside jokes, scheduled routines, knew each other's schedules minimally, and when you came home very late, Semi used to stay up waiting for you to make sure you got home safely.
She also memorized many of your tastes, your favorite food, favorite movies, favorite music. What's more, one day she surprised you when you came home listening to one of your favorite artists.
It was freezing outside, really freezing, so the first thing you felt when you arrived was the warm embrace of your home. At that moment, your ears were filled with your favorite music coming from Semi's room. The door was open, so the noise escaped easily.
“The Marias, huh? I thought we had nothing in common when it came to music,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hi, how was your day?” she asked as soon as she heard you, focusing her attention on you instead of her phone. "I saw you listening to them the other day, and I liked it. I thought it would be nice to have something else in common," you resisted her confession. You approached her bed and sat down. She was lying down and sat up, repeating your gesture.
“How did it go for you?”
“Oh, it was fine,” she looked away to rummage through her memories of the day. "I failed History of Law, but it's okay. Better for me. They kicked me out of class and I got to spend time with my friends. How about you?
– Everything's fine, as usual. Speaking of friends, I ran into your friend Gyeongsu and said hi.
– Oh yeah, he's cool. Did you know we all used to live together before? But then Minsu and Gyeongsu went to college, and I couldn't handle the drug addicts on my own.
“Will you go back there when the year is over?” you asked curiously.
“What?”
“Will you go back there when the year is over, when they expel you for your grades and you can become a tattoo artist? You can't live on campus if you don't study.”
“I know that. But I hadn't thought about that...” A wave of concern washed over her face. “I mean, I don't have money to buy anything, I could barely afford rent. And going back to my parents' house would be impossible...”
“We'll figure something out, okay?” You rubbed her arm to comfort her.
And so they spent a few days looking for cheap apartments, tattoo studios, and jobs. Semi didn't seem very motivated to work at Burger King to earn a living, but there were no other options. She had no degree, no work experience, she was spit out into the world.
But what you hated most was being separated from Semi. They had formed such a beautiful, genuine bond... You didn't want a new roommate, you didn't want to go through that again. Besides, it would take away the luxury of seeing her, because at this rate you already liked her quite a bit. You hid it like the best actress of all time, or so you wanted to believe.
You loved the little moments when they seemed like a couple. When she lent you her clothes and then didn't ask for them back until you put them back in her closet. The way she looked at you when she saw you wearing something of hers showed how strong you were, because if you were weak, you would have taken them off in front of her.
The comments from others didn't help. Several times you heard comments from Semi's friends suggesting that you two were a couple. She just denied them, because, well, you two weren't anything. Your own friends mentioned it too. How strange it was that you sent each other photos or updates of your day via text message was something striking in such a new friendship. “I used to do that with my partner” was a statement you heard more than once.
Semi's jealousy was also strange. Yes, Semi was jealous of her roommate. Usually, if you ran into her talking to someone, or worse, laughing, you would get an ironic comment from her.
“You said you weren't sociable, but you flirt with everyone, huh?” she spat.
But perhaps the worst time was when you met SaeBeok. She was a girl your age, from the same university, but studying a different degree. However, you shared some classes together. You had never spoken to her, but you knew she studied marketing because you ran into her in Consumer Psychology and Visual Communication.
“Your project looks good,” she said, appearing behind you out of nowhere, startling you.
“Thanks,” you said with a smile. “Yours too, or better. You study marketing, right? You must know more about that then.” She nodded in response.
They didn't talk about it anymore that day. Maybe if you ran into her in the hallways, she would greet you with a smile, or even talk to you. She was one of the few people who approached you at university. You never cared about socializing; you were there to study. Besides, you already had friends elsewhere.
“So, you and SaeBeok? Seriously?” You heard that voice, Semi's voice from the doorway.
“We're classmates,” you clarified.
“That girl doesn't get close to anyone. She likes you, realize that.”
“Okay.” Your tone was carefree, unlike Semi's, who looked as if she had caught you dating her father.
“Say no more?” You shook your head. “You like her, don't you?”
“She's cute, I wouldn't mind being with her.”
“Wow, y/n. I really expected more from you.”
“I don't see the problem. I finally talk to someone I like on campus and you make a jealous scene as if she were your partner.” Semi took a breath to speak, but you beat her to it. “And don't say anything, you don't even say hello to me. It seems like I embarrass you.”
– No, y/n, it's not that. – She sounded worried. Semi sat on the edge of your bed as if the floor had disappeared beneath her. She no longer sounded angry. She sounded... confused.
– Don't worry, I'm fine, Semi.
She didn't respond. She just stood there, her hands clasped together, as if trying to hold on to something that was already slipping away. An awkward silence ensued. You didn't speak, neither did she. Semi was quick-witted, always had something to say, except today.
She stood up and left, turning around before walking out the door, looking for a plea for her to stay, or something, anything. You didn't do it. She left.
You didn't understand Semi's behavior lately. She had been kind and genuine with you in small ways. She often behaved in ways that went beyond what was considered friendship. So, was this jealousy? What did it mean? Questions and confusion swirled around in your head in an endless spiral. You just wanted to shut it down, for her not to talk, for her not to get your hopes up, for these gestures to be interpreted as nothing more than concern and affection for a friend.
The next day, you studied more than anything else. You sat at your desk with only soft music for company. Knock knock, you heard from the door. You made a noise to let her know she could come in: it was Semi. She had a small box in her hands.
“Hi, y/n. I'm sorry about yesterday. I still don't understand how it happened or why I acted that way,” she said, avoiding eye contact, looking embarrassed.
“It's okay. I forgive you.”
“And I was thinking...” If Semi said that, you didn't know what to expect. It was either something super crazy or incredibly clever. “That I owed you one. So I bought you this.”
I handed you the small box. You sat down next to her on your bed to see what it was. Curious, but careful, you opened it to find a gold ring with a sun on it. You were surprised. It was beautiful, delicate, completely your style. You looked at Semi with your mouth slightly open, but you could see a smile. Before you could thank her for the gesture, Semi beat you to it.
“Remember on my birthday when I told you we should get married? Well, I got us rings.” She showed you her ring. It was silver, with a moon, and the two rings fit together like a puzzle. “We wouldn't be a proper married couple without a pair of rings, would we?”
You nodded, still surprised by the gift. It wasn't something you expected, and besides, it was just a simple joke. At this point, their faces were very close. Semi smiled mischievously, surely noticing your nervousness, how your hands were sweating, how you couldn't speak. She seemed to like it.
You're not lying, their faces were 15 cm or less apart, the tension could be cut with scissors, or with a kiss, you swore. But despite your strong feelings, you didn't want it, because a kiss meant nothing to Mi, while it meant everything to you. In fact, anything with Semi meant a lot to you.
You broke eye contact between the two of you to look at the ring and put it on. You thanked her with a sweet thank you and by resting your head on her shoulder. She hugged you from behind and rubbed your back sweetly.
They stayed like that for a while, not talking, just enjoying each other's company. The setting was beautiful, the golden sun illuminating the room, making it look warm, your heart beating heavily, Semi's scent entering your nose, the soft but firm physical contact. Maybe you always dreamed of something like this.
“Thank you so much,” your voice broke the silence. “I love you, you know?”
“I love you more,” she replied. She kissed you on the head, sweetly, fleetingly, delicately, and softly. It felt so welcoming. It was the first time you felt safe at university. There, in her arms, next to her.
And from there, you went from an apparent relationship to an apparent marriage. Semi was much, much more affectionate with you. She would hug you from behind when you were distracted, and you would just laugh to hide your surprise. Sometimes she would also leave little kisses on innocent places like your head or your forehead. They were the most affectionate and protective things.
Her casual touches, her assaults on your solitude, the contact of her skin, felt so light. You weren't a fan of physical contact; you always found it heavy, as if it left a mark on your body. But with Semi it was different. You didn't know if it was because you were slowly falling in love with her, or because Semi's soul was beautiful, kind, and warm deep down. You didn't need to know.
But what also grew, or at least persisted, was your jealousy. Your friendship with SaeBeok blossomed like the growing spring. She was genuine and welcoming, like Semi, but she was calmer, quieter. You didn't dislike her. You didn't know her intentions, but you didn't care much either way. She was fine as a friend, and as something else too.
Sometimes, you admitted, there was a certain chemistry between you. People noticed it from the outside, especially Semi. It seemed as if she was following you, had a hidden camera in your backpack, or spies scattered all over campus, because almost every interaction you had with Sae, Semi mentioned.
“So now you and her are officially together, or is it just casual? Are you going to get married?”
“What are you talking about?” you said, laughing.
“SaeBeok. You're close now, and you talk about her.”
“I talk about her because she's the only person I talk to.”
With that sentence, something finally clicked in Semi's head. Over the next few days, she interacted with you more outside the room. Days later, she did something you never expected: she invited you to spend time with her.
You were walking down the hallway; it was finally lunchtime, and you were starving. Focused on your own business, you walked toward the exit. You often ate off campus because the cafeteria there only highlighted how alone you were, since you had no one to eat with. You didn't care, but the constant stares did bother you.
“Come with me.” You heard her voice before you saw her, and your body reacted before you did. You turned around, and it was Semi.
“What do you need?” You thought she needed help with something, since she never talked to you during school hours.
“Nothing. I want us to have lunch together.”
“No, thanks. I'm fine.”
She ignored you, grabbed your arm, and you followed her. You didn't know where she was taking you; the path was confusing. You ended up walking behind the least-used building. The smell of dampness, the concrete walls, the drawings on the walls, the trash—it seemed like she was going to kidnap you and then send you to Italy to work as a prostitute.
“Where the hell are you taking me?” For the first time, you resisted.
“I want to spend time together.”
“Is this because of SaeBeok?” She rolled her eyes. “You can't be possessive if I'm not even yours.”
“You are mine,” she replied coldly.
“Of course not,” you muttered, taking it lightly.
You finally arrived at a partially dark corner. There was no one else around when laughter became audible. It was GyeongSu, SuBong, and Namgyu. He had taken you out of your comfort zone to spend time with his lazy friends.
“Where's MinSu?” Semi asked.
“We thought you'd bring him,” one of the boys replied.
“Shit,” he muttered and hinted at leaving.
“No, wait, don't go,” you said, begging him not to leave you alone.
“Your friend is afraid of us, don't leave her alone or we might kill her,” Namgyu joked.
Semi left anyway, leaving you there. He said he wouldn't be long. Maybe it was an opportunity to get along better with them, right?
But that's how it was, they accepted your calm personality, contrasting with theirs. Every now and then they made you laugh, they didn't say much that made sense. You misjudged them. You thought that in that space you would kill yourself, remove your organs, and then sell them on eBay. They were probably on drugs.
When Semi came back, you no longer felt so out of place in the group.
“Hey Semi, now I understand a little better why you can't stop talking about her sometimes,” you laughed embarrassedly.
“Don't listen to them,” Semi said, but that idea had already taken root in your head.
After that day, Semi invited you to spend time with them more often. You learned to eat lunch earlier or before Semi caught you, because they didn't usually eat lunch. In the end, you learned that it was because that way the drugs they took had a greater effect on their bodies. At first they didn't do it in front of you, but as their confidence grew, they weren't so embarrassed to let you see them.
Semi almost always abstained, especially from pills. Thanos always brought those, and he, Namgyu, and sometimes Gyengsu consumed them. She used to smoke cigarettes, usually tobacco, but if someone else smoked marijuana, she would join in. It was dangerous to do that on campus, so they did it in secret. Semi was the most careful about this. She always washed her clothes and put on perfume after smoking. If she consumed marijuana, she did the same, but she skipped the next class so she wouldn't go to class high.
She always offered you some, but you refused. You didn't drink, smoke, or do drugs. This was because Semi wanted to protect you from the pills, but she still used to offer you a puff of whatever she was smoking. MinSu and you were the only ones who didn't do drugs. Still, you had a good time.
You already said the main reason you abstained: it wasn't your habit, and you had never done it before. You didn't want to make a fool of yourself in front of a bunch of quasi-strangers. If you tried it, it would be with someone you trusted. And one day, that situation was right in front of your eyes.
You arrived at the apartment. Semi had left early and decided to invite her friends over while you were away. The smell of... a little bit of everything. Semi was leaning on the kitchen counter, smoking what you thought was a normal cigarette, but the smell of flowers gave it away.
“Hey, sunshine! How did it go?” I greeted her cheerfully.
“It went well. You're high, aren't you?”
“He's leaving now. Want a cigarette?” At that moment, it was like in those movies where a little angel appears on one shoulder and a little devil on the other. But you were always a curious girl, suffocated by the pressure to be perfect. It was true, it was a big leap, but you trusted Semi.
“What's the worst that could happen?” You shrugged, with a half-smile. “Worse is regretting never doing it,” you thought.
Semi looked slightly excited, but she knew what she was doing. She repeated several times that she would take care of you, that she would be there during and after the effects. She lit the cigarette, but didn't give it to you. She kept it in her hand and seemed to insist that you take your first puff directly from her hands.
You did it, bringing your mouth close and smoking from her hands. It was like the expression of eating from the palm of her hand, because indirectly that's how you felt with Semi, that's how she had you. She immediately asked you if you were okay, if you needed anything.
“How are you feeling?” Semi checked in.
“Automatic.”
“What?” he laughed.
“Like I'm on autopilot. Like God made me for something and I can't change my destiny.”
“Oh, so you're one of those philosophical types.”
“Didn't you ever read Sartre? In my first year of high school. He said that humans define ourselves solely through the experiences we have, since we are free and without purpose.”
“How the hell do you remember that?”
“It was the only thing that interested me about philosophy in all of high school.”
“I don't remember much about high school...”
– I do, it was one of the worst times of my life. My friends didn't like me. – You turned to look at her, she was listening to you carefully, attentive to what you were saying about yourself. – I had several groups of friends, but I never felt like I fit in with them, or anywhere else...
– And now...? – Before answering, you shook your head.
– Not really. I only have a couple of friends far away from here. I'd rather not hurt myself by surrounding myself with people who I know don't really like me.
– I understand. I felt that way with my family. My family was conservative, well, it is. We were just girls, but they wanted a boy. I'm the middle child, my older sister was the role model, my younger sister came close to that unrealistic ideal, but I didn't. – They were very different, but you understood each other and saw a little of yourselves in each other.
– I'm the oldest, and I always felt that pressure to be the example by always going first. And also a little bit of that vulnerability, they never defended me if I got angry with my brother. I felt like I was spat out into the world to guide my little brother.
– I was the one who followed, and now what do you say, I don't know which is worse. The point is that I didn't want to be what my sister was. So I distinguished myself, but my parents couldn't stand that. They forced me to study several times and give up my dreams. And now I'm here.
– You're brave, I admire you a lot, you said sincerely. Those words seemed to mean something to Semi. – Despite everything, you remained yourself, fighting for what you want. We are what we do with what they made of us.
“And now who is that philosopher?” she asked, laughing cheerfully.
“Sartre again,” you laughed.
They continued talking, truly opening their hearts. Their presents, their pasts, their desired and feared futures came together in their conversation. They weren't so different; both were social outcasts in some way, but they dealt with it differently. While you tied your hair back and ran alone across the battlefield, Semi walked, also alone, but with allies. You didn't seek allies; you had fought alone for everything your whole life, condemned to bear the responsibility for your actions. Semi preferred to be calm, blocking everything out, making sure nothing bothered her as long as she was there and they didn't mess with her people.
“Sometimes I don't know if I like being me,” I confessed.
“Me neither,” you blurted out. “But I like you the way you are. Just the way you are.”
“Thank you. I like you the way you are too,” you said, your head bowed in apparent embarrassment. “But maybe if I reached out far enough, I could reach a better version of myself, the version my parents want me to be.”
“I think the best version of you is the one where you're happy fulfilling your dream with the people who love you by your side,” you murmured comfortingly.
“You're so sweet, that's really nice,” I smiled at you, and when that spark of mutual smiles was enough, I took your hand, creating fire.
When the laughter felt light, like foam rising from the chest, smoke filled the room, the dim lights reflected in each other's eyes, the effect began to fade. You felt even stranger than before. Semi noticed.
“Are you okay?”
“I think the effect is wearing off,” you said, dazed.
“Me too. Come on, I'll take you to your bed so you can lie down right away.”
You sat down on the bed, Semi sat down next to you, looking at you fondly. You looked at each other for a few moments, you didn't know what she was looking at in you, but you saw everything in her. You saw her beauty, her beautiful face, her hair falling over her forehead, her slight smile. You also saw inside her, with this conversation you could see beyond the irritating personality she had at the beginning of your relationship. Who would have thought that your number one enemy a few months ago was the girl who had turned your college life upside down in the best way possible, and that now you saw her with the purest eyes of love. Yes, that girl who drove you crazy a few months ago was now the one who gave you the most peace.
Maybe it was the confusion of the drug's effect, the tenderness of the situation, or how beautiful Semi looked when the warm light hit her face, but you were convinced that you were in love with Semi. Seeing her as a friend was impossible. Since that cold night when she crawled into your bed, your feelings had become increasingly impossible to ignore.
But you maintain your stance of not making it obvious, so she doesn't notice. You were extremely embarrassed that she would find out that you had fallen almost hopelessly in love with her, that you thought about her so much that it distracted you from your classes at times, that more than once you drew the letter S and a heart next to it in your notebook and then nervously erased it. You didn't understand what was happening to you, what was happening between the two of you, whether you were friends or maybe there was a chance that there could be something more, but hopefully it would be like that forever. Or until Semi was kicked out of college.
“Almost there, right?” You nodded as you felt your thoughts return to you. “Did you like it?”
“No...” you draw out the word vaguely. You lean in and end up with your face hidden in her neck. She strokes your hair gently.
“You're tired, aren't you?” she gently pushes you down to lie down. “See you tomorrow, pipi.”
Ignoring the fact that she ended the night playfully calling you by the synonym for urine used to help small children understand, it had been great. You wouldn't do it again, but you wouldn't wish it hadn't happened. You loved it, you put your trust in Semi completely, and she did great. Plus, you got to know each other better.
Over the next few days, the strange dynamic between you grew a little more. The touching continued, as did the weight of her persistent gaze. You didn't know what was going on between you. You didn't know if that's how she treated her friends, if she liked you, or if she had already realized how crazy you were about her and was planning to play with you, marry you, kill you, and then take all your money.
“What happened to you or what?” you said. Semi kept sighing while looking at her cell phone.
“It's nothing, just a girl wrote to me and I don't know if I should reply.”
“Are you interested?”
“She's cute.”
“Then do it,” you spat dryly, not letting her see the pain it caused you to think of Semi with someone else.
“I'll think about it...” she said, feigning suspense, but even she didn't believe it. She seemed to want to make you jealous, but you don't fall for games like that. "
You're jealous, aren't you?
“Don't be silly.”
If the weather was nice and they were both in a good mood, they would go out. They both knew how to drive, but only you had a car. They would go out to eat or have a drink at a chain restaurant. It was simple, but what mattered was spending time together and having fun for a while.
Anyway, this stopped when the final exams started to approach. You locked yourself away to study for hours, sometimes skipping meals. Semi, worried and using all her memory, brought you food from the places you used to go to. She had memorized your orders, and when they were wrong, she would prepare something else for you. The last thing she wanted was for you to get sick from not eating.
When they were finally over, Semi came home so excited. There was still a week to go before the year officially ended, but for Semi it seemed to have ended that day.
“I got the best news of my life!” You don't think you've ever seen her so excited.
“Really? What is it?” you asked, excited to share her euphoria.
“I got kicked out of college because of my grades.” Normally, people's worlds fall apart with news like that, but this was key to Semi's happiness.
“That's great!” But then you remembered. “So you're leaving this week?” She nodded, a little sad.
“No, but after next Friday, I can't live here anymore.”
You had been given the worst and best news in the world at the same time. But you had to get down to work. They started packing everything up, because if it were up to Semi, she would have left it until the night before.
That night, they sat down to watch their favorite show. It was the second-to-last episode, and the show was ending with Semi's departure. That night, after that news, the vibe was heavy, nostalgic.
But to cheer you up, Semi knew what to do. Well, not really, but luck was on his side.
Friday afternoon, penultimate week of classes over. You had passed everything with outstanding grades. This last week was mostly for saying goodbye and spending time together; not much else was going on. You used to skip that week, but this time you were going to spend as much time as possible with Semi before he left.
But let's go back to Friday afternoon. Semi shows up at the apartment with a big smile on his face. It wasn't usual, as he used to have a poker face even with his own friends.
“I have a surprise for you...” he announces suspensefully.
“What is it?” His surprises usually included ordering food for dinner, watching a movie that had been recommended to him, or a small gift.
“Tomorrow we're going to the beach,” she said, thinking it was a joke. “What are you laughing at?”
“That's not a plan I expected from you. What's the real plan?”
“Do you really expect so little from me?” she reacted, offended. “I just want to get you away from your desk for a while. And I thought you'd like it... you have a lot of pictures of the beach in your room.”
In the end, you accepted, not entirely convinced that it was Semi who had suggested it. Judging by what you knew of him, Semi liked urban landscapes, exciting and intense things. But you were different; the peace that the sea brought you, the sun beating down on your skin, the sound of the waves, the colors of the sunset—that was exciting for you. Maybe Semi thought of you this time.
The next morning, you packed a small bag with the basics; you didn't want to be weighed down. You had lunch at home, and she would leave right after. Semi said she mainly just wanted to go to see the sunset. It was a nice plan; that was the most beautiful time of day and your favorite.
“Isn't that mine?” you asked, pointing to the top of Semi's outfit. It was your T-shirt. She laughed softly.
“Yes, is there a problem?”
“I didn't lend it to you! Take it off, you'll get it dirty.”
“Wow! You want to undress me that badly? Take it off then,” you challenged her. You just resisted, pretending not to take her seriously, because in reality you did want to undress her.
They left there around one o'clock. For convenience, they took the bus. It wasn't a very long trip; in less than an hour and a half, they were there.
Luckily, they sat together because the bus was almost full. They didn't talk during the trip; they were both listening to their music, with occasional short conversations about their plans for the day or what was along the way.
When they arrived, the sun was still too strong to be on the beach. It was almost summer, and temperatures were high due to the high concentration of UV rays, which even good sunscreen couldn't block.
So, they had no choice but to do something else. The place was small but very cozy. It wasn't a big city on the coast, but rather a kind of large village that enjoyed beautiful sea views.
They decided to go to a small market there. Most of the stalls sold only fish and food, and the smell made them feel a little queasy. But at the back, there were stalls with souvenirs and interesting things.
You admitted it, you were a big fan of shopping, you held back too much because you knew that the limit would disappear as soon as you took out your wallet. You had saved some money, so you bought a couple of things like a key ring, some tops, and a pair of sunglasses. As for Semi, she saw a couple of vintage items, especially in the decoration section. She would soon have her own space and wanted it to be 100% her. They also bought some matching items, such as pins with funny phrases for their bags, some old Barbies, and a packet of homemade cookies to eat later.
As soon as it was acceptable to be out in the sun, they ran to the beach. The view was beautiful, the blue water matching the sky, the sand warm enough to feel like it was hugging your feet, the heat and the gentle breeze softening it.
They sat on the sand, perhaps getting sand between their shorts until it reached their anal orifices and caused discomfort never before experienced by human beings, but it didn't matter. It was one of their last days together, and they decided to do something special.
“Are you going to go in the water?” you asked Semi.
“Nah, I didn't bring a swimsuit.”
“Really?” I have mine under my clothes. I brought it for nothing. She clicked her tongue in disappointment. She noticed.
Let's go in anyway, it doesn't matter.
Something you liked about Semi was that she was sometimes spontaneous. That spontaneity came from her feeling that she didn't care about anything, she just wanted to enjoy the moment, seize the opportunity, and going to the beach was not something common for you.
You took off what you were wearing and she took your hand, dragging you towards the sea, leaving everything behind. Korea was a very safe place, so getting robbed wasn't a concern. The real concern was Semi plus water. You didn't know if you'd have a tender moment or end up soaked because Semi would splash you with water.
The result was a bittersweet mix of both. They played with the water like mischievous little girls, but it was also a very sweet and intimate moment. The water was freezing, so they chatted a little while warming themselves up.
“Do you already have clients for your tattoo work? Have you done it before?”
“I've never tattooed anyone for real, but I've practiced on special paper that simulates human skin.”
“Is there really such a thing?”
“Yes, all beginners use it.”
“Maybe you should start practicing on real people.”
“What are you implying?” You raised your eyebrows. “Would you really let me tattoo you?” she asked excitedly.
“When you open your studio, I'll gladly come,” you said, and she looked really happy.
You went back to where your things were, sat down, and since you didn't have towels, you dried off in the sun. Semi's denim shorts were soaked halfway up, and they wouldn't dry all day. You continued chatting and opened the package of cookies you had bought earlier, which, by the way, weren't that good.
She also took a couple of photos with her digital camera, mostly of you. She told you that if you didn't upload them to social media later, she would cut up all your clothes with scissors. They also took photos of the two of them together. But she didn't ask you to take any of her.
The sun was almost setting, the weather was cooler, and the light was fading. The sky was painted orange. You didn't know what time it was for the others, but the conversation was becoming increasingly personal. They had stopped to walk along the shore. Every now and then, the water touched their feet, washing the sand off them.
“I'm going to miss you so much, the apartment won't be the same without you,” you confessed. “Well, nothing will be.”
“I will too. I always have a hard time forming bonds, but with you it was different. I feel different with you than with others, and/n.” You noticed the sincerity in her words, how she opened her heart to put into words what made her vulnerable.
“Thanks for everything, you're a great girl. You managed to change something in me, I don't know what, but you did.” You looked her in the eyes, her walk slowing down.
“Oh, it's an honor. Because you have a very strong personality,” she joked. “You really always... want to do things your way and...”
You interrupted her joke by placing your hand over her mouth, silencing her. She fought back, trying to remove it, but you held your ground. An innocent game of tug-of-war ensued, ending with her grabbing your wrists tightly and pulling down, losing her balance and taking you with her to the ground.
Luckily, you fell onto the sand, side by side, laughing at the situation. You turned your head to look at her, only to find that she was already looking at you first. You didn't say anything, the laughter faded away on its own, but the conversation didn't resume. You just looked at each other, analyzed each other, contemplated each other, or so you felt. You didn't want to get your hopes up, but Semi sometimes had those moments where it seemed like she was almost as in love with you as you were with her.
Silence. Only the sound of the crashing waves reached your ears, but there was another sound, much louder, coming from inside you. It's like listening to a song and never getting tired of it, it's like being a fan of a work of art and one day seeing it live in a museum, it was like witnessing an angel descending from heaven just in time to save you. It was beautiful, she was beautiful.
For a moment, you felt like crying. The moment was truly beautiful: her standing in front of you, in your favorite place in the world, at your favorite time of day, in your favorite season of the year. You were truly in love with her, and you couldn't believe it. Part of you still denied it, the part that held the faces of the women Semi had once brought to the apartment to use for fleeting pleasure.
You didn't want to be that for Semi. You were serious about things, you tried several times to have one-night stands, without success. But the person you loved, the one standing in front of you, had a different view of love.
“You changed something in me too, you know?” she broke the silence.
“Really, what?” you asked curiously. She lifted her head from the sand and rested it on her arm. “Are there still people with good taste in decoration?” you said sarcastically, and she laughed.
“No, something much more important.” She paused and looked at the sun hiding behind you, below the horizon. “Something I thought didn't exist, something I thought I would never experience.”
At that moment, you noticed a certain desire in Semi that you had never noticed before. You had looked at her many times, you knew all her looks, but this one was different, this one was looking for something else: your lips. Because yes, Semi was now looking at your lips out of the corner of her eye. She took turns with your gaze, you could feel her breath even though they were far away. You wanted, you really wanted to kiss her. But that part of your brain, which only wanted to protect you, reminded you of Semi's romantic history. You smiled to break the tension and sat down on the sand. The sun had already set. You commented on the rising tide and how they should leave the beach.
Yes, maybe that part of your brain was protecting you, making you afraid. But fear doesn't stop death, it stops life. That life you wanted so much, being with someone, being loved, trusting the other person completely. But fear also stopped the depression that would come if Semi played with your feelings.
For dinner, they bought street food. It was simple, but it never fails. They sat down to eat on a bench on the sidewalk, the beach behind them, the sea sounding more furious than it had all day, but so did the small town.
A girl passing by smiled flirtatiously at Semi. You couldn't blame her; Semi was beautiful, and probably the stereotypical girlfriend that every lesbian in the world wanted. But it also made you a little jealous.
“She's cute,” you commented.
“Yeah, kind of.”
“Why don't you take her back to the apartment?” you asked sarcastically.
“Hey,” she nudged you gently with her knee. “I don't do that anymore.” You shrugged in agreement.
“You're right. But I remember that time very well. You usually have one-night stands, don't you?”
“Yes, just one night. I don't like to fall in love.”
“Why?”
“Because I fell in love once, it was my first time. I really loved her, but she didn't care, she played with me and cheated on me.”
“And that's why you do the same now?”
“Of course not.” I clicked my tongue. “I always make it clear that it's casual.”
“And if someone falls in love with you, what do you do?” It was the only answer that mattered to you.
“I just make it clear that I don't want anything. I just think that love is...” I paused. “Useless. It's rarely real.” “But what about you? Have you ever fallen in love?”
– Only a couple of times. I ended up with a broken heart, but it's worth every second you feel love.
– So you believe in love? – You nodded.
– Yes, I believe in the right people. I believe love exists if you know how to give and receive it.
– But your heart has been broken.
– Yes, but as I said, feeling love is worth it. The last time I fell in love was with a girl. She rejected me, but I never stopped feeling something for her or having hope for us. The love I felt for her was stronger than the pain I felt from her rejection.
– That's sweet. – You turned to look at her and smiled.
As soon as they finished eating, they had to run to the bus stop to catch the last bus home. They caught the very last one, which was empty, and sat at the back.
“Shit!” you cursed.
“What happened?”
“My headphones. They must have fallen out,” you said, frustrated.
“It's okay, we'll share mine.”
She took one out of her ear and put it in yours. They were wired, so they had to stay close to each other to avoid breaking. She had a good playlist, and she even let you put on some of your favorites.
They didn't talk during the trip, they were more focused on enjoying each other's company, which in less than a week would go from being something daily to something rare.
The last week before Semi left was strange; there was a weird vibe in the house. Soon the apartment would be dead, there would only be half the presence there had been before, half the laughter, half the love. You weren't, well, you weren't ready for that.
Now you were always close, taking advantage of every second in each other's company. You even agreed to skip classes just to spend time alone with her on campus. There were also more touches, more brushes, more long hugs. Every night you stayed up late chatting, regardless of the fact that you had to get up early the next day.
But the day began to approach. Every day they packed at least a little, first decorations, then clothes, until Semi's room was empty, like your heart. You felt so much for Semi, her absence emptied you so much, you just wanted to hug her forever.
And when the day came, neither of you decided to cry; you didn't want to make it any harder than it already was.
They used your car for the move. Semi's new place was far away, and luckily all the things—or at least the most necessary ones—fit in your car.
They were both silent, too sad to even try to cheer each other up. It seemed like the end of a teenage summer romance. They took everything to the car, almost all the boxes except one labeled fragile, probably full of ashtrays or things like that, which Semi asked you to take last.
“Is that everything?” you asked, closing the trunk of the car.
“No. There's something else I want to take. You,” you laughed nervously. She let the joke pass and became more serious. “There's a box upstairs.”
You turned around to go back to the apartment quickly to get the box while she went upstairs, but she grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug. A very long hug, but you pulled away first to find your shoulder wet with Semi's tears. It was the first time you had ever seen her cry.
“Don't cry, sweetie,” you said tenderly, wiping away her tears.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized, laughing to hide her nervousness.
“I'll go get the box, okay?” She nodded before you left.
Everything felt so different without Semi's things, without Semi. The box labeled “fragile” was next to the sofa. You approached it, and before you picked it up, you heard the most beautiful voice.
“Open it,” it was Semi. She had followed you there and was now leaning against the doorframe. You obeyed.
You didn't expect what was in that little box. They were memories together. The stickers from the mirror you made him throw away, all the notes you had written on the board, printed photos he took of you without you noticing, photos together, stones from the beach. You didn't understand, what was it?
“It's my heart.” It's full of you.“ You looked at her confused, unable to form words. ”I love you, y/n,“ she clarified. ”Now can we pretend this isn't real?"
“It already was.” She brushed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ears.
She looked at you with such admiration, such love, you had never noticed it before, never believed it really. And she knew it, she had realized how you felt somehow.
Then something magical happens: she takes your cheek and kisses you. You kiss her back. It was short, but it was the sweetest and purest thing you could ever experience. When you parted, you laughed, unable to believe how you could have ignored each other's feelings for fear of rejection.
“Do you know what day it is today?” you wondered.
“Thursday, why?”
“What happens on Thursdays?”
“A new episode of the series we watch comes out. Today is the last one.”
Yes, maybe today was the end of her favorite series, but today, thanks to her, they were everything you wanted them to be when you met her, ever since you fell in love with her beauty the first time you saw her. After misunderstandings and encounters, today they were here, together.
Maybe today was the premiere of the last episode of her favorite series, but it was also the premiere of a new first episode. A new episode of being lovers, companions, not roommates, accomplices, loving each other.
In the end, you were her type after all, weren't you?
