Work Text:
Seulgi POV
Seulgi had tried to suggest somewhere local.
She’d come prepared with charts, budget breakdowns, weather maps, and a Pinterest board titled Coastal Korea. But none of it stood a chance against Jaeyi’s weapon of choice: a thin strappy tank top, and her legs stretched out across Seulgi’s lap while she dramatically declared, “It’s no real beach vacation if you’re wearing jeans.”
Seulgi had mumbled, “We could just go to Jeju...?”
Jaeyi gave her a look. One of those loaded ones where her lip curled just enough to say you’re sweet but wrong. “Seulgi,” she said slowly, like talking to someone whose brain had been lightly poached, “Korea isn’t a bad choice because of its bad beaches – it’s winter. The beaches are dead, the air is freezing, and I need to see you in a swimsuit and feel the sun on my skin before I turn into a popsicle.”
“Umbrellas are romantic.”
“Bikinis are more romantic.”
Seulgi blinked. “That’s debatable.”
“And if we go somewhere properly warm,” Jaeyi said, trailing her fingers lazily down Seulgi’s arm, “we could both wear cute dresses. All the time. Sundresses. Linen. Matching outfits, even.”
Seulgi opened her mouth to protest and promptly forgot how vowels worked.
“I already checked,” Jaeyi added, as if this were a group project she’d been assigned weeks ago. “You have a passport now. I saw it in the drawer next to your emergency batteries and your travel-sized lint roller.”
“You were digging through my drawers?”
“No, we needed batteries, remember?” Jaeyi wiggled her toes in her direction.
Seulgi groaned into her hands. “Fine. But next vacation, it’s coastal Korea, or I’m staying home.”
Jaeyi nodded enthusiastically, but her eyes said liar, and her smile said I am going to fight you on that.
Seulgi knew that smile. She had made peace with being outvoted in every future decision involving swimsuits and hotel upgrades.
Seulgi thought for a moment, wanting to have some say if she had no choice.
“Thailand would be nice.”
Jaeyi’s eyes lit up. “Thailand it is, leave it to me.”
Before Seulgi could say anything more, Jaeyi leaned in and kissed her softly, sealing the deal with a smile.
Now Seulgi was going through her packing list one final time. She had starred the items that must not be forgotten (sunscreen, power bank, motion sickness pills), underlined the ones Jaeyi would probably forget anyway (hairbrush, phone charger), and even printed out a separate “Emergencies” list. That one included snacks, a tiny folding fan, and extra tampons. Just in case.
From across the tiny dorm room, Yeri sprawled dramatically on her bed in a position Seulgi privately called “emotional jellyfish.” Legs everywhere, hair in chaos, arms thrown out like she’d just fainted from Victorian heartbreak.
“You know,” Yeri said, voice oddly solemn, “it’s just a short trip. You could buy stuff there. I heard they even have stores in Thailand.”
Seulgi clicked her pen shut and glanced up. “Why would I buy things I already own? That’s just wasteful.”
Yeri didn’t argue. That in itself was alarming.
Instead, she picked at a fraying thread on her hoodie, her usual snark replaced by something quieter.
Seulgi frowned. “What are you planning while I’m gone? Kyung’s room is empty now since Jaeyi moved out. Are you going to sneak in and steal all her leftover fancy skincare?”
“I guess.” Yeri shrugged. “I don’t really know.”
That wasn’t just casual vagueness. That was capital-E Emotion disguised under a layer of hoodie fluff.
Seulgi paused, then set down her clipboard. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird. Less annoying. It’s disturbing.”
Yeri rolled her eyes but didn’t snap back immediately. She pulled her knees to her chest and let her hair fall into her face. When she finally spoke, her voice was small.
“I just realized... this is the first time it’s not you and me doing something big together. It’s you and her. It’s starting.”
Seulgi blinked. “What is?”
“You growing up. Like for real. Going on romantic trips. Sharing snacks. Matching sunglasses. Eventually moving in together. Having calendars that don’t include me.”
Seulgi snorted. “You’re literally on three of my calendars.”
“Yeah, sure, now I’m on your calendar. But what about in five years when Jaeyi whisks you away on some surprise spa weekend and you miss my birthday for the first time ever? Because you’re off-grid doing a digital detox and practicing mindful silence in a mountain temple?”
Seulgi blinked. “You literally acted like my birthday didn’t exist for three years in a row. You didn’t say a word. No text. No mention. Nothing.”
Yeri sat up indignantly. “Exactly! Full commitment to the bit! So it’s actually surprising when I show up at midnight. I ignore every single sign your birthday is even happening just to make the reveal hit harder.”
Seulgi rubbed her temple. “We’re literally gone for a week.”
“Yeah, but it’ll feel longer. You’ll be on a beach. Doing stuff. Probably getting a tan and being held aloft in the ocean by your sexy doctor girlfriend while I’m here eating cereal past its expiration date and watching the ceiling.”
Seulgi flushed. “I—I haven’t even decided if we’re doing that.”
“Oh please. You packed the sexy underwear I got you last year.”
Seulgi narrowed her eyes. “Stay out of my drawer, if you are judging.”
“I can’t. That’s where the Seulgi lives.”
There was a pause. Then Seulgi crossed the room and sat at the edge of Yeri’s bed.
“You know I’m not replacing you, right?”
Yeri peeked at her through her hair, expression soft in a way she rarely let show.
“I know,” she said. “It’s just... we’ve been a duo since middle school. And I like our little disaster-dorm life. You were my first person. For everything.”
Seulgi didn’t have a neat response to that. Instead, she leaned in and hugged her awkward and slightly stiff, like she didn’t quite know where to put her elbows.
“You’ll always be my first person,” Seulgi murmured into Yeri’s hair, holding her a little tighter. “Remember our blood pact when we were eleven?”
Yeri made a small noise, half scoff, half fond sigh. “The one where we pressed our scratched thumbs together behind the school library because we read somewhere that made it official?”
Seulgi smiled against her shoulder. “That’s the one. You said we’d be linked forever. And I said even if we became astronauts or evil scientists or married people with ugly dogs, it wouldn’t change anything.”
“And then you made me swear to never fall in love with someone who hated mint chocolate,” Yeri said, laughing quietly.
“Important values,” Seulgi deadpanned.
Yeri shifted a little, enough to look at her. “So... that bond still holds? Even now that you’re going off to have hot beach makeouts with your dream girl?”
Seulgi pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Yup. That’s a forever bond. You’re still my person.”
Yeri blinked, then softened. “Even afterlife?”
Seulgi gave her a lopsided grin. “Especially then. We’ll haunt people in matching hats.”
“Dibs on the dramatic hallway whispers.”
Seulgi chuckled. “Fine, but I get to flick the lights.”
Yeri sniffed, then reached up to ruffle Seulgi’s hair with mock tenderness. “You’re such a dork.”
“Takes one to bind eternal souls with one.”
They stayed like that for a moment, the soft buzz of campus life outside their window, the weight of old memories pressed into a hug that didn’t need explaining.
Yeri buried her face in Seulgi’s shoulder. “Promise you’ll send me selfies. And at least one thirst trap. You owe me.”
“I’ll send a daily itinerary.”
Yeri smiled against the fabric. “Hot.”
Seulgis phone alarm went off, alerting her that it’s time to leave.
Seulgi stood and smoothed down her shorts, glancing at the door, then back at Yeri, who was watching her with that weird mix of fondness, mild betrayal, and eternal scheming.
“Don’t redecorate while I’m gone.”
“I already ordered a disco ball.”
“I will physically remove it.”
“You’ll try.”
Seulgi smirked, grabbed her suitcase, and started toward the hallway.
Yeri’s voice followed her like a curse and a blessing.
“Be sexy, nerd!”
Seulgi didn’t reply. But she smiled all the way to the parkinglot.
Meanwhile:
Jaeyi POV
“Didn’t Seulgi send you a packing list?” Kyung said from where she was lounging on Jaeyi’s bed, contributing nothing to the current crisis except unhelpful commentary.
“Yes, she did, and it was terrifyingly detailed,” Jaeyi snapped, crouched in front of her second suitcase. “And I read it. And then I ignored it. And now I’m reaping the consequences.”
The suitcase refused to close. She glared at it, then turned to Kyung with the look of a woman on the verge. “Sit on it.”
“What?”
“Sit. On. The. Suitcase.”
With a shrug, Kyung got up and flopped onto the overstuffed luggage. Jaeyi immediately pounced on the zipper, grunting as she tried to force it shut. With the combined effort of one panicked over-packer and one skeptical best friend, the suitcase finally surrendered with a reluctant zip.
“Victory,” Jaeyi panted. “Now I just have to pack my carry-on.”
Kyung stared at her. “You’re bringing a carry-on too?”
“I need options! And sunscreen! And snacks! And a beach book I probably won’t read but will artfully pose with for Instagram. And ugh, I forgot to pack hair oil.” She pointed at Kyung. “Remind me to pack it.”
“You’ll need a reminder system for your reminder system at this point,” Kyung muttered. Then, louder: “It’s a seven-day trip, Jaeyi. Why do you need half your wardrobe?”
“Because I want to look perfect. I want Seulgi to look at me on the beach and be like, ‘Oh no, she’s so hot, I forgot how to function.’ I want wind in my hair and sun on my thighs and sand in places that will make me complain dramatically at dinner. I want matching hats. I want Seulgi in a sundress and I want to compliment her until she forgets how to conjugate verbs.”
Kyung blinked. “You’ve… put thought into this.”
“This is our first vacation. I need to get the tone right!”
Kyung snorted. “Wow. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Jaeyi narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kyung hesitated, visibly realizing she’d made a tactical error. “Nothing. Just, you know, a vacation together, it’s a big step. A milestone. You’re doing good.”
“No. Say what you meant.”
Kyung winced. “Well… first vacations are kinda… risky? I read somewhere, somewhere very unscientific, don’t quote me, that a lot of couples break up after their first trip.”
Jaeyi stared at her. “You’re joking.”
Kyung tried to backpedal. “I mean, it’s probably exaggerated. Urban legend stuff. Don’t worry about it. I just remembered it for no reason,”
“Urban legend my ass,” Jaeyi muttered, already pulling out her phone.
Kyung reached out. “Don’t Google it. Seriously. Don’t.”
Too late. Jaeyi’s brows furrowed. Then rose. Then disappeared into her hairline.
“Fifty percent of couples break up after their first vacation?!” Jaeyi shrieked, holding up her phone like it had personally betrayed her.
“One in five break up during the trip!” Jaeyi continued, voice rising. “Like while they’re still on vacation. That’s a twenty percent chance we don’t even make it to the airport back together! And do you want to know what’s worse?”
Kyung didn’t, but it didn’t matter.
“We haven’t even had our first fight yet! Like not a real one!” Jaeyi flailed her arms around, marching her room up and down. “We’re so overdue! We should have fought over something calm, a reasonable conflict about closet space or whether one of us uses too many emojis.”
She pointed dramatically at her phone again. “But now? We’re about to fly to a completely different country, with bikinis and high expectations and zero practiced conflict resolution strategies in the wild, Kyung!”
Kyung cringed. “Okay but that’s tabloids, those numbers are inflated…”
“WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS WAS A THING?”
“I just figured you knew! It’s like, relationship lore.”
“It is not common knowledge!” Jaeyi was full-body clutching a pillow now. “What if we fight? What if she gets sick of me halfway through and I end up crying into a conch shell?”
Kyung tilted her head. “Honestly, Seulgi would probably just hold your hair back and then build you a tiny conch shrine out of driftwood.”
Jaeyi flailed dramatically. “This is a disaster. I can’t believe Seulgi agreed to this. What if she gets annoyed by how I brush my teeth or fold towels or hum in the shower? What if she finds out I talk to my clothes while I pack?!”
“She already knows that,” Kyung said dryly.
“I need to unpack. I need to start over. I need to make a list of all the things that might make me annoying and neutralize them in advance.”
Kyung held up her hands. “Or, wild idea, you could just… go on the trip and have fun like a normal human being?”
“I don’t know how to do that, Kyung!”
There was a long pause.
Jaeyi buried her face in the pillow. “I’m going to ruin everything.”
Kyung patted her head gently. “You’ll be fine. Probably.”
Jaeyi groaned again, muffled. “You’re the worst.” She peeked up from the fabric. “Also remind me to bring deodorant. I don’t remember if I packed it.”
Kyung just sighed and handed her a sticky note. “Seriously, you’ll be fine. You’re both crazy about each other.”
Jaeyi bounced her leg like a jackhammer on the taxi floor, her knee practically rattling the seat in front of her. The driver, whom she’d scheduled days ago, obviously, because she was a responsible girlfriend, was just turning into the university parking lot to pick up Seulgi.
She should never have read those stupid articles.
Fifty percent of couples break up after their first vacation. Fifty. That wasn’t a cute fun fact, that was a coin toss from hell. And now, every single thing was a potential red flag. Apparently people broke up because they realized their partner was rude to service workers. That wasn’t her, right? She was nice. Mostly. Usually. Unless someone said something dumb, or…
Okay. Maybe her baseline wasn’t mean, just… assertive. But what if she thought she was being polite and Seulgi was secretly thinking she was a nightmare? Oh god. Also, apparently bathroom etiquette broke people up. They hadn’t even talked about that.
What if Seulgi didn’t like sharing toothpaste? Or used those weird charcoal tablets?
“God, my hands are sweaty,” Jaeyi muttered, wiping them on her jeans. Her palms were clammy. Her armpits were worse. She was seconds from googling “do breakups increase in air-conditioned vehicles” when she spotted her.
“There! The cute girl waving, that’s her,” she told the driver, gesturing toward Seulgi, who was standing on the curb in sunglasses and a bucket hat.
“Which one?” the driver joked, scanning the very empty parking lot.
Jaeyi stiffened. Which one? What did he mean which one? Did he not see Seulgi? Did he not think she was cute? What kind of imbecile-
She stopped herself mid-glare. Be kind to people. Service people especially. She forced a smile that felt like stretching clingfilm over a brick.
“She's the one with the blue duffel. That one. Yep.”
The second the car rolled to a stop, Jaeyi practically launched herself out the door, sprinting to grab Seulgi’s suitcase before she could. But the driver beat her to it with the kind of speed and efficiency that made her teeth itch. Smile. Smile! You love kindness!
“Thanks,” she said, tone just on the edge of murder, then turned to Seulgi with a kiss that was probably too stiff and too quick but counted anyway.
“Ready?” she asked, her voice a little too bright.
Seulgi blinked at her. “Your eye is twitching.”
“I’m just excited,” Jaeyi lied, climbing back into the car and internally whispering Don’t mess this up. Don’t mess this up. Don’t mess this up.
Jaeyi wasn’t exactly subtle about her nerves. The hand Seulgi squeezed over hers in the backseat of the taxi was firm and questioning, paired with one of those sideways glances that meant: What’s going on with you? Jaeyi didn’t answer. Mostly because their driver was rambling non-stop about his time at their university, which might’ve been tolerable if it hadn’t turned into a full-blown talk about how higher education was a scam.
Seulgi, predictably, turned an alarming shade of red. She gave Jaeyi a look that screamed Please, God, say something, like she expected a swift and cutting clapback to restore justice to academia.
But Jaeyi was in her being nice phase. She forced a serene smile, nodded politely, and let the man continue his rant about “kids these days.” It confused Seulgi to no end. Her brow furrowed like Jaeyi had glitched. Jaeyi just stared out the window, whispering to herself: Don’t be rude. Don’t ruin the vacation before it starts. Be… nice.
Then came airport security. A fresh hell.
The TSA officer was particularly rude to Seulgi, snapping at her about liquids and “being prepared,” like she hadn’t just handed over the most organized, transparent, vacuum-sealed toiletry bag in modern history. Jaeyi watched it unfold with rising fury. Seulgi just nodded and complied like a model citizen.
Jaeyi, meanwhile, stood beside her clenching her jaw so hard her molars might crack. She was one breath away from saying something biting and publicly humiliating, so she opted to shut down entirely. When asked to remove her electronics, she grunted. When asked to move her bag, she grunted again. She was a polite, muted threat with an expensive carry-on.
And now they were at their gate, and Jaeyi was stress-eating through her snack supply like it owed her money.
Until Seulgi reached over and plucked the half-eaten protein bar from her hand.
“Hey,” Jaeyi said, mouth still full. “I was eating that.”
Seulgi didn’t blink. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What?”
“Do you have tummy problems again? Is it your toe? Is your toenail falling off again?”
“No!”
“You can tell me. We’re both studying to be doctors. I’m not grossed out by bodily functions. Just say the word.”
Jaeyi was crumbling.
There were very few things in life she couldn’t do with confidence: arguing in seminars, winning petty academic rivalries, walking in heels through slushy snow etc. but lying to Seulgi when she looked at her like that? With concern so earnest it practically glowed?
Impossible.
“I’m just…” Jaeyi shifted in her seat, her shoulders tense. “I’m just thinking about the first-fight stuff. How we haven’t had one yet and now we’re going on our first vacation together. It’s statistically bad.”
Seulgi blinked slowly. “That again? Why do you want us to fight so badly?”
“I don’t!” Jaeyi groaned, trying to escape Seulgi’s eyes and failing miserably. “Okay, okay, don’t freak out. But I was made aware, recently, that something like fifty percent of couples break up after their first trip. And since we haven’t even fought yet, we’re basically flying straight into a death trap. Here.” She shoved her phone into Seulgi’s hands like it was proof of something.
Seulgi took it without a word and read. Quietly. Way too quietly.
Jaeyi sat in full silence, watching the side of her girlfriend’s face, waiting for any flicker of a reaction. But Seulgi just read. No expression. Not even a little eyebrow twitch.
It was a short article. She was taking way too long. Oh no. Oh no, it’s already happening. The spiral is real. This is the beginning of the end.
Finally, Seulgi turned to her and handed the phone back with slow, deliberate movements.
“I’ll be honest,” she said. “I’m disappointed in you.”
Jaeyi’s breath caught. Oh god, here it comes.
But Seulgi didn’t yell. She didn’t even sound angry. Just hurt. “Do you really question my feelings for you this much?” she asked softly. “I know you’re still figuring out what it means to be in a relationship, and I get that you overthink, I really do but it kind of sucks to hear you think we’re that easily breakable.”
“No!” Jaeyi burst out, leaning forward. “That’s not it. I’m not doubting us. I just, I worked so hard to get here, Seulgi. I liked you since the first semester. First semester. I’m not worried because I think we’re weak, I’m worried because I care too much and I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want all that effort and pining and planning to go to waste just because I… I forget to be nice at airport security!”
Seulgi blinked. “Since freshman year? I knew you liked me earlier, but… since then?”
Jaeyi cringed but nodded. “Yeah. I started picking arguments with you just so you’d notice me. I looked it up, you know, how to create academic tension. I may have… slightly researched it.”
Seulgi stared at her. “You researched it. I thought it was natural.”
“I was desperate!” Jaeyi hissed.
Seulgi shook her head, a hand covering her mouth in disbelief. “Jaeyi. While I do admire your commitment to emotionally repressed flirting via competitive debate, you do realize your groupies were vicious to me, right? Nari threw her drink at me once and called it ‘symbolic.’ She said you’d think it was funny.”
“I had no idea.”
“To be honest, it was really tough; it really got me down at the start. Yeri was one bad week away from hiring someone to take her out,” Seulgi muttered, mostly to herself.
“I didn’t know that!” Jaeyi said quickly. “I’m sorry. Like really, really sorry. If I had known-”
“Sure,” Seulgi said, softer this time, but not exactly forgiving. She leaned back in her seat, her gaze fixed somewhere past the departure gate. “You were in your villain origin arc. I get it.”
“I was more of an anti-hero,” Jaeyi mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.
Seulgi didn’t smile.
Jaeyi groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “Okay, fine. I was a jerk. I’ll write a formal apology. I’ll bake muffins.”
Still no response. Just the distant rustle of boarding calls and Seulgi not looking at her.
There was a beat of silence.
And then Seulgi finally looked at her not angry, not dramatic, just tired around the eyes.
“Well,” she said quietly, “I guess you got the fight you wanted.”
Jaeyi’s throat tightened. “Seulgi…”
But their boarding group was called then, and Seulgi stood up without a word, grabbing her backpack. She didn’t walk ahead, didn’t walk away, just stood and waited, giving Jaeyi the space to follow.
And Jaeyi did.
Jaeyi had splurged, as usual and booked first class tickets for their flight. But despite the luxury, the atmosphere between them was anything but relaxed.
They settled into their seats side by side, but the usual easy banter was gone. Jaeyi kept sneaking glances at Seulgi, who stared out the window with a distant expression, avoiding eye contact. Seulgi wasn’t exactly ignoring her, but seemed locked inside her own head, cocooned in thought. The silence stretched unbearably, thick and heavy. Jaeyi’s nerves bubbled just beneath the surface, she wanted to say something, anything but with attentive staff hovering nearby and the gentle hum of the plane, arguing or even a tense conversation felt impossible.
The flight attendants approached periodically with small talk and carefully timed smiles, clearly trained to pamper “lovey-dovey” couples. Each time, Jaeyi felt like their forced smiles clashed with the undercurrent of tension between them. When the stewardess offered a bottle of champagne with a wink, Jaeyi gave a stiff smile and accepted, while Seulgi politely declined, eyes still distant. The first-class cabin suddenly felt more like a gilded cage.
Landing didn’t ease the tension. They were greeted at the hotel with all the fanfare reserved for honeymooners: a red carpet welcome, sparkling water with floating flower petals, and staff who cooed at them like a perfect couple. “Welcome to your romantic getaway! We’ve prepared a special bath for you both after your journey,” one effusive attendant chirped, leading them inside.
The suite was stunning: sunlight flooding the room, sweeping views of the turquoise ocean but the moment they stepped in, the over-the-top “couple treatment” made everything feel awkward. Their smiles were tight, their laughter forced.
In the bathroom, the bathtub was filled to the brim with steaming water and an excessive layer of rose petals, framed by flickering candles. Jaeyi glanced at the setup and then at Seulgi, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
“Um, do you want to take a bath?” Jaeyi asked, shifting awkwardly. “I totally get if you want some space, you can take it alone, and I’ll unpack all my luggage.” She gestured toward her ridiculously overpacked suitcases strewn across the room and tried to laugh it off.
Seulgi looked at the bath, then at Jaeyi. “No, it’s fine. It’s for both of us, so…” Her voice was soft but steady, like she was trying to bridge the gap.
Jaeyi nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Together, they moved toward the bathroom, the sound of distant hotel staff preparing the next “romantic surprise” echoing faintly through the suite.
She fumbled with the zipper of her dress, her fingers clumsy from nerves. She hated how tangled everything felt, her thoughts, her emotions, the space between her and Seulgi after their fight. Seulgi was quiet but patient, standing close enough that Jaeyi could feel the warmth radiating off her skin.
“Here,” Seulgi said softly, stepping behind her. Her hands were gentle as they reached around, easing the zipper down with practiced ease.
Jaeyi shivered slightly as the fabric slipped away, revealing skin that felt suddenly exposed, not just to Seulgi’s gaze, but to everything she’d been holding in.
Seulgi turned her around slowly and looked up at her, eyes wide and earnest. Without hesitation, she went onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to Jaeyi’s temple, her breath warm against her skin.
Jaeyi closed her eyes, savoring the tender contact. “I love you,” Seulgi whispered shyly, like it was the first time she’d said it.
The words wrapped around Jaeyi’s heart like a lifeline. She leaned down instinctively, resting her forehead against Seulgi’s, voice trembling as she answered, “I love you, too.”
For a moment, neither spoke, just breathing each other in. Then Jaeyi’s hands found Seulgi’s waist, pulling her closer, as if anchoring herself to this fragile, beautiful connection.
“I’m sorry,” Jaeyi whispered. “For always overthinking. For being too much. I promise I don’t doubt how much you love me. I never did. I just… sometimes I get scared it’s all too good. That I’m going to break it.”
Seulgi’s fingers brushed Jaeyi’s cheek softly. “And I get scared I’m not enough to keep it.”
Jaeyi shook her head, cupping Seulgi’s face with both hands. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything I want.”
Seulgi’s eyes glistened, and Jaeyi bent down again to press a kiss to her lips, slow, careful, full of promise.
“I hate fighting with you,” Seulgi murmured against her mouth. “It scares me.”
“Me too,” Jaeyi whispered back, fingers tracing the line of Seulgi’s jaw. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”
Seulgi smiled through tears, her hands threading through Jaeyi’s hair. “We just have to remember that. That we’re on the same side.”
Jaeyi nodded, her heart swelling with both relief and love. “I’m sorry for being so much. I’ll try to be better. For us.”
Seulgi leaned in, her voice soft and sure. “I’ll try too. Because you’re worth it.”
They kissed again, a slow, tender exchange, as Jaeyi’s hands slid down to rest on Seulgi’s hips. The fight didn’t feel so heavy anymore, just another step toward something stronger.
As the dress slipped fully away, they stood together, trembling and vulnerable, but wrapped in the quiet warmth of love.
The bathroom was filled with a golden haze, steam curling into the ceiling like the air itself was trying to hush the world for them. The rose petals in the tub had begun to soften and curl, some sticking gently to the sides, others drifting lazily over the water's surface.
Jaeyi stepped in first, easing herself into the warmth with a low exhale. Her skin prickled from the temperature, but it was welcome like it could dissolve the last of her anxious nerves.
Seulgi followed, she lowered herself between Jaeyi’s legs, back to her chest, and leaned into the curve of her body.
Jaeyi wrapped her arms around her slowly, reverently, palms coming to rest over Seulgi’s stomach. Their skin was slick from the water, and their hearts were still uneven, but the closeness was grounding.
For a while, there was only the sound of rippling water and the faint hum of the warm air vent.
Then, softly, Seulgi tilted her head back so that it brushed Jaeyi’s cheek. Her voice came low and a little dry. “So… was our first fight everything you’d hoped for?”
Jaeyi let out a laugh that was more breath than sound. “I think we can go ahead and scratch ‘fighting’ off the trip itinerary.”
Seulgi huffed, mock-offended. “Really? I had a sexy pillow fight scheduled for tomorrow.”
Jaeyi smiled and nuzzled her nose into the space just behind Seulgi’s ear. “We can keep the pillow part.”
“I was going to wear nothing but socks and everything.”
“Now I’m reconsidering the cancellation,” Jaeyi whispered into her damp hair, and Seulgi giggled, warm and small in her arms.
One of Seulgi’s hands drifted underwater, searching until it found Jaeyi’s. Their fingers touched, slick and slow and then twined together, locking in the kind of grip that said everything better than either of them could. Not just love. Not just reassurance. But a promise: we’re here.
Jaeyi kissed the crown of Seulgi’s head. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“For not pulling away.”
Seulgi was quiet for a moment, then squeezed her hand. “I wanted to. For a second. I was scared.”
“I know. Me too.”
Seulgi shifted, turning just enough to press her wet temple against Jaeyi’s lips. “But even when I was scared, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.”
They stayed like that, damp skin pressed close, hands still locked under the water, foreheads touching, the occasional brush of a petal against their arms or chests, until the water cooled and neither of them remembered what it had felt like to be distant.
The rest of their vacation felt like slipping into a dream where everything smelled like sunscreen and Seulgi’s shampoo.
It was almost comical, the contrast between their tension-filled flight and what came after. As if the hotel tub had really soaked the fight right out of them. As if love and rose petals made a decent therapy combo. They woke up tangled together and never quite untangled for the rest of the week.
The beach was their base of operations. Every morning, Seulgi would get up before Jaeyi, meticulously layer sunscreen across every visible inch of her body, even under the straps of her swimsuit and gently nudge Jaeyi awake with a glass of fresh juice, already dressed in something pastel, breathable, and criminally cute.
And then came the moment.
Jaeyi had been prepared for modest Seulgi: flowy linen pants, oversized shirts, maybe even a sunhat the size of a UFO. But Seulgi stepped out of the hotel bathroom in an actual, real-life bikini. Pale blue. Tiny. Blessed. Jaeyi had dropped her phone. Literally.
“Are you okay?” Seulgi had asked, towel slung casually over her shoulder, hair braided to one side.
Jaeyi had nodded, absolutely not okay, hands twitching with the effort not to grab. “You’re just wearing that in public?”
Seulgi had rolled her eyes, oblivious to the way her stomach looked under the soft morning light. “It’s a beach.”
“It’s the end of my sanity,” Jaeyi had muttered.
She behaved for all of twenty minutes.
The worst of it was Jaeyi didn’t even mean to be a menace. She just had a deeply physical reaction to Seulgi’s collarbones. And her thighs. And the stretch of her back when she reached up to fix her ponytail. So yes, there had been some accidental clinging in the water. And maybe a few handsy moments while applying sunscreen. And maybe a little biting. Once. On the shoulder.
Seulgi had tolerated exactly one day of this.
The next morning, she emerged in a sleek black one-piece that made her look like a Bond girl moonlighting as a marine biologist. It didn’t help. Jaeyi’s brain short-circuited just the same. But she did behave. Mostly. One very quiet, very firm “Jaeyi.” and a particularly sharp look from behind Seulgi’s sunglasses had her sitting with her hands in her lap for a full hour.
To make up for it, Jaeyi set up an umbrella for them, brought her the good towel, and tried not to sulk while Seulgi lay on her stomach reading for hours.
They made a sandcastle on a cloudy afternoon when the tide was low and Seulgi decided that “marine architecture was historically underappreciated.” Jaeyi rolled her eyes but helped, carving little heart-shaped windows and making sure Seulgi’s tower stood taller than hers.
There was a point where Seulgi asked her to take a picture. A specific kind of picture. For Yeri. Jaeyi should have known the moment Seulgi tied her hair into a messy bun and adjusted the waistband with a suspiciously practiced flourish.
It was a thirst trap. No question. Strategic shadows, the faint sheen of sunscreen on her stomach, that goddamn innocent expression.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Jaeyi muttered, taking at least twenty shots with her phone, “that you’re this hot or that you know you’re this hot.”
Seulgi had laughed. “It’s for Yeri.”
“Sure. Sure it is. Totally not for me to accidentally find on your camera roll and save.”
Seulgi sent the best one to Yeri immediately. And not to Jaeyi.
At dinner, Jaeyi was petty. She refused to taste Seulgi’s drink even when Seulgi pouted. Refused to let her steal fries. When asked what dessert she wanted to share, she said: “Nothing. I’m full of betrayal.”
Seulgi blinked slowly. “It was just a picture.”
“I didn’t even get a copy.”
“You saw me in the moment. Do you want one?”
“It’s not the same,” Jaeyi said, chin tilted up. “I want an unsolicited thirst trap. Is that so much to ask in a healthy, committed relationship?”
Seulgi didn’t argue. She just leaned across the table and wiped sauce from the corner of Jaeyi’s mouth with her thumb. “ You’re... a full-time job. But like, the dream kind. With benefits.
“And hot.”
“That too.”
They bought souvenirs: local honey, bath oil, wind chimes, and a pair of ridiculous matching bucket hats with embroidered sea turtles. Seulgi wore hers without complaint. Jaeyi loved her for it.
And yes, they made love. Every. Chance. They. Got.
Sweetly in the bath, water sloshing, soft sighs echoing off marble. Desperately in the morning before room service. Laughing through kisses when Seulgi almost knocked over a vase. Quietly under the linen sheets when the night was too warm and too full of stars. Every touch was layered with emotion. Maybe because of the fight. Maybe because they had been holding it in too long. But Jaeyi had never felt so cherished. Never given so much of herself willingly, gladly. She clung to Seulgi, again and again, as if love could sink into her skin and stay.
And they wore matching outfits constantly. Seulgi resisted at first. But the crop tops were soft and the linen shorts fit too well and the moment Jaeyi said “Please? Just one picture?” Seulgi folded like a paper crane. Then another day. And another.
Eventually, she stopped pretending she didn’t enjoy it.
That was also when she finally understood why Jaeyi had brought two full suitcases for a week-long trip.
“All of this is matching outfits?” Seulgi asked on Day Five, staring at the neatly folded rows of carefully coordinated couple fits.
“I like to plan ahead,” Jaeyi said defensively. “We’re gay and on vacation. There’s a legacy to uphold.”
Seulgi had laughed, arms wrapping around her from behind. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
“I really do.”
They made their way home with tan lines, dozens of blurry photos, three half-used bottles of sunscreen, a shared note on their phones labeled “Things to pack next time,” and the knowledge that they’d had their first fight and survived it.
Jaeyi kept looking at Seulgi on the flight home. Touching her knee lightly. Holding her hand across the armrest. Not because she was anxious. But because she’d never been happier.
And maybe also because Seulgi had her neck exposed, curled in a travel pillow, and Jaeyi couldn’t stop staring at it like a lovesick vampire.
She loved this girl. This quiet, soft-spoken, nerdy, sharp, wonderful girl. Jaeyi had spent so long worrying, wondering if she was too messy, too dramatic, too “loud.” Too much. That Seulgi would get tired of her theatrics, of her lack of chill, of her very specific rules about mirror-sharing.
But then, on their last night, Seulgi had paused while brushing her teeth to say, completely serious, “You fold your towels really well. I feel very cared for.” And then, right before falling asleep, mumbled into Jaeyi’s shoulder, “Sometimes you’re rude to people who deserve it. I think that’s kind of sexy.”
Even her worst tendencies had value when filtered through Seulgi’s gentle gaze. And when she got out of her own head long enough to see it clearly, Jaeyi realized she loved herself more when she was with Seulgi.