Chapter Text
Part 1
Words: 3,270
At any moment in the day, we humans are surrounded by a mirage of scents. Scents of food, of people, of the new-clothes smell in department stores, of the pizza place down the street and the lingering perfume of passersby. Oftentimes we get so many stimulants that we get overwhelmed and we eventually learn to tune some out, recognizing and responding only to those out of the ordinary.
According to Jiwoo, though, science all goes to hell when you find The One. “You can tell he’s around when he’s within a mile radius,” she gushes, repeating the story for the millionth time, almost spilling her cup of coffee. “The smell just hits you, and oh, my God, Jihoon smells like a sunny spring afternoon spent in the park—”
“Alright, I get it, I get it,” you say, smiling placatingly to stop her before she goes on her god-knows-how-many rant about how Jihoon smells. You, for one, don’t think he smells like much besides the sweet cologne he likes to wear. In fact, like most normal people, you don’t think anyone smells like anything unless it’s B.O. or overpowering perfume.
Sometimes you wonder if you will ever find The One, as you stare at your friends and their soulmates, or whether you’re one of the rare cases that just don’t have a soulmate. Or maybe you were just too intent on other things in your life—finding a balance between work and studying is so hard that maybe you missed sensing The One when he passed. Or what if he was on the other side of the world? Is it even possible to find him then?
Jiwoo leans forward, setting her cup down. “I’m telling you, Y/N, you just need to get out more. Stop denying me shopping trips and just walk around! You’ll find him someday.”
You sigh, not in the mood for a pity party. “I’m busy, Jiwoo, you know that.” Unlike you, I can’t afford to take days off of work all the time, nor do I have any inclination to. Jiwoo is off work practically every other day, and the fact that she hasn’t been fired yet amazes you. Then again, that’s probably because you agree to fill in for her—secretly, of course, because she runs out of sick days too quickly, and the manager is never actually there anyway.
“Then make time, Y/N. You won’t get anywhere if you don’t try,” Jiwoo replies, rolling her eyes. At that moment, her phone rings, and you see the name Jihoon appear before she holds the phone, shooting you an apologetic glance.
“Go ahead, take it,” you say resignedly.
She picks up and turns to the side, murmuring into the phone. You can tell she’s trying to keep it short and quiet, since this was supposed to be a you-and-her night for old time’s sake, but it’s impossible to miss the gleam in her eye or the way her hands fidget as she struggles to keep her hands from moving animatedly the way she normally does when she talks.
Jiwoo finally turns around again to face you as she ends the call. “Sorry, he said he couldn’t find the bag of cocoa for hot chocolate. But honestly, I put it in the cupboard, he knows—anyway. Sorry.” She glances down at her thin white wristwatch. “Let’s go shopping.”
You groan. “Jiwoo, you know I can’t afford—”
“Then we can go window-shopping,” she says, exasperated. “Whether you like it or not, Y/N, I’m dragging you around today. We are not going to stay in your house the entire night. You do that enough.”
There is no denying this girl. “Alright. Fine. Let’s go.”
Jiwoo drives the two of you to the nearby mall, chattering on about some new thing Jihoon has done that she’s currently obsessed about as you stare out the window. She made a good point; you’re often so busy that you can’t make time for yourself, so it’s nice to finally relax and appreciate the setting sun. The months have been passing by so quickly that you hadn’t noticed the days getting longer, but now it’s past seven and the sun is still out.
As the two of you walk in, you spot a clothing store displaying dresses and skirts that catch your eye. Despite yourself, you tug on Jiwoo’s hand, leading her into the store as she points out certain outfits. “Y/N, look at this dress,” she exclaims, pulling a blush-pink dress off the rack. “You would look gorgeous in this!” Jiwoo waves it in your face, at the same time ushering you into the fitting room.
“I don’t know,” you say as she thrusts it into your hands. “I normally don’t wear dresses like these—”
“Just try it on,” Jiwoo huffs, and you respond by closing the door and doing as she says.
You have to admit, the dress hugs your body nicely—making it look like you have curves, for one thing—even though you feel much too exposed and fancy than any occasion would require. You open the door to tell Jiwoo as much, but your words die in your mouth as she gapes with her mouth falling open, and runs in to hug you excitedly. “Yes, yes, yes, you look absolutely stunning and I am buying you that dress no matter what you say.”
“Jiwoo, no. I have no reason to wear this dress, ever—”
“Shut it. Who needs a reason to look good?”
“But it’s so fancy and when would I ever need to—”
“Well, you’re going to have to go to some kind of formal event sometime, right? You can wear it then.”
You close the door again to change out of the dress. As you hold it up in front of you, admiring the silky fabric between your fingers, you have to admit that it really is a beautiful dress. “Okay, I’ll buy it,” you say as you leave the changing room, but Jiwoo is nowhere to be seen. “Jiwoo?”
“Yeah, I’m here!” she calls as she comes over, shopping bag in hand. “Here. It’s the same dress,” she explains at the confused glance you give her, and takes the one in your hand to put back on the rack. “I really just wanted to do something for you, since it’s been forever since we’ve last hung out. And I’ve been so preoccupied lately that I’ve been a horrible friend.” She takes your hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Jiwoo, it’s not a problem. I know Jihoon is important to you. I’m not angry or upset. And you didn’t have to buy this for me,” you reply as you and Jiwoo leave the store, raising the bag. You’re inexplicably torn between frustration and gratitude. You’re tired of your friends treating you like a piece of glass, delicate and easily broken. You’re tired of seeing them tiptoeing around topics that they think would be insensitive to discuss around you—namely, their partners and their love lives. You know they stop their cheerful gossiping and teasing when you walk in the room, and now is as good a time as any to start fixing that. You lead her to the food court and sit down at an empty table, placing the bag in the seat next to you.
You let out a breath, not quite sure how to voice the warring emotions inside of you. “Jiwoo…the thing is, I don’t need anyone to pity me,” you say quietly.
“I don’t—” she begins.
“Just let me finish. I know that you, and Hana, and Nara, all look at me and maybe you don’t say it, but I know you pity me for not having found my soulmate yet. Not only that, I’m always either working or studying and I never have time for anything, because I don’t have the luxury of being financially stable enough that I can take time off and just hang out.
“And it’s true, it’s wearing me out, but I will ask for help when I feel I need it. I love you guys, and I appreciate your concern, but I’m really okay. Not everyone finds love, and not everyone finds it quickly.”
Jiwoo takes your hand from across the table. “I know. I know you’re strong, and you don’t need pity. I don’t pity you. I just want you to be happy, Y/N. And that’s not going to happen if you keep pushing yourself and pushing yourself like the way you’ve been doing.”
You put your head in your hands, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I just—I don’t know anymore. I can’t just stop working, can’t just stop pulling all-nighters to study for tests when I’m paying for these classes anyway.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out. And I’m always here, if you ever need me.”
You look at her and smile. “I know. Thanks.”
“Alright, enough sad talk. I say we each get a cup of ice cream and continue on. There are so many places left we’ve yet to explore. We haven’t gone here in what, a year?”
You agree and head over to the ice cream shop in the corner of the food court, where you get vanilla with gummy bears and sprinkles and Jiwoo gets strawberry and yogurt chips. Jiwoo leads you into a cosmetics shop, then an accessories shop, and by the time the two of you decide to call it a day and leave the mall you’re both carrying heaping bags of clothes, makeup, facemasks, and accessories.
On the way out the doors you drop a small bag containing some necklaces you had just bought, but Jiwoo is oblivious as she continues making her way to the parking lot. You sigh, hoping to god that the necklaces haven’t broken or cracked somehow—they’re glass—and bend down to pick up the bag. “Why on earth did I let her convince me to get all this when I need to save to buy textbooks for next semester?” you mutter under your breath.
As you stand up and hurry to catch up to Jiwoo, a breeze blows your hair in your face, carrying along with it a faint scent of lemon-mint; sweet, spicy, and crisp.
-
“Come on, slowpoke, it’s late and I want to get home and shower,” Jiwoo jokes as you reach her car. She’s stuffing all her shopping bags in the trunk and you join her.
“You’re the one who suggested we go to the mall in the first place,” you fire back good-naturedly, done with your bags and getting into the passenger seat. “We could be home, warm and comfortably watching a movie.”
Jiwoo rolls her eyes as she shuts the trunk and slides into the driver’s seat, yanking on the seatbelt. “Please. As if you didn’t enjoy that just as much as I did.”
“I can’t believe we got those shoes. Seventy percent off! And they were so cute, too.”
“Exactly!” Jiwoo hums contentedly as she reverses and drives out of the parking lot. “Did you want to stay over at my apartment, or do you want me to drop you off at home?”
“Please. I love you, and you know I love our sleepovers, but I’m not in the mood to third-wheel you and Jihoon.”
Jiwoo laughs. “Not likely. I think he just stopped by to pick up something he needed and left.”
You look over at her and raise an eyebrow. “And decided to make himself some hot chocolate before he headed out?”
Even with the dim lighting you see Jiwoo blush as she shoots you a sheepish smile. “He does that sometimes. Anyway, I need to turn now if you want to go home, so what’s your answer?”
“I’ll sleep over at yours.”
“Wonderful!” Jiwoo continues humming as she turns on the radio, and you find yourself singing along horribly to the pop songs playing. Jiwoo joins you, and by the time you reach her house you’re laughing so hard that you can almost pretend it’s just like the old days, before she ever met Jihoon, before any of your friends had found their soulmates, and you were just a group of fun-loving high schoolers hanging out and enjoying life the way only the young and carefree can.
Jiwoo unlocks the door and kicks off her shoes, heading straight to her room. “Can you lock the door?” she calls out behind her. “Thanks!”
You do as she asks and follows her into her room. “Just put your bags in that corner over there,” Jiwoo says, pointing with her chin at a relatively spacey corner in her cluttered room, clothes strewn everywhere. “Sorry, I should have cleaned a bit earlier,” she mutters as she picks up clothes by the armful from the floor, gathering them all into a neat pile by the door.
You laugh as you flop onto her bed. “It’s fine, not like that’s anything new.”
“That’s true,” she admits, giving the pile one last kick and turning to her closet. She picks through her clothes, flinging a worn gray t-shirt and pink sweats at you. “Here, you can change into those after you shower.” She finds a change of clothes for herself as well and heads to the bathroom, shutting the door. “Oh yeah, if you need underwear, they’re in the second drawer!” she shouts.
“Got it!” you yell back, still lying on her bed. You start a game on your phone, waiting for Jiwoo to finish showering. Twenty minutes later, she emerges, smelling freshly like strawberry shampoo.
You grab the outfit she’d lent to you and head into the bathroom. “You can use the extra towel—it’s the plain white one!” she calls after you.
You roll your eyes as you look at the towels hanging on the back of the door: a pink towel with white polka dots, a black-and-white striped one, and a new-looking plain white one. It’s not like Jiwoo needed to tell you which is hers; you don’t think Jihoon is the type to use the sad plain towel when there’s the perfectly good striped one. But then again, who knows, right?
It’s amazing what a nice hot shower can do, you muse as you dry your hair, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look happier, you realize, and less stressed. Taking some time for yourself is probably something you should do more often.
When you’re done, you head back into Jiwoo’s room to discard your dirty clothes into one of your many bags. You head into the kitchen afterward to find something to drink, where you see Jiwoo and Jihoon talking in hushed tones. Jiwoo has her back to you, but Jihoon spots you, giving you a smile and a wave. “Oh, hi, Y/N. Jiwoo mentioned you’re staying over.”
“Hey, Jihoon,” you reply, giving him a smile back as you walk over to the fridge. “Did you miss Jiwoo too much or something? I thought she said you had to grab something and leave.”
“I did,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “But I realized I forgot my flash drive here so I had to come back and get it.”
“Next thing you know—” You begin, but then the smell hits you again, stronger this time: definitely a lemon scent, but also sharper than a lemon scent would smell, and sweeter.
Jiwoo and Jihoon are still staring at you, though, so open the fridge as you continue on. “Next thing you know, he’ll be coming back for his headphones, and then his hat, and then his socks, and then at one kernel of popcorn he dropped on the ground yesterday,” you say wryly as you take the carton of orange juice and close the door.
Jihoon laughs and grabs his keys from the counter. “I promise I won’t intrude on you girls anymore. Anyway, Wonwoo’s waiting outside in the car; I said I’d drive him home, and then I have to head to the studio to work on some things. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Jiwoo says as he pulls her in for a quick peck on the forehead and leaves, probably out of consideration for you.
“You want some orange juice?” you ask Jiwoo as you grab a cup.
“No, I’m good, thanks.” She takes a seat by the counter, scrolling on her phone.
“Can I ask you something?” you blurt.
Jiwoo looks up from her phone curiously. “What?”
“Does Jihoon still smell like spring or whatever to you?”
“Yeah,” she answers, looking at you strangely. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I was just curious.” But a million thoughts float through your mind then. Jihoon still didn’t smell like anything to you when you walked past him, and yet there definitely was a lemony scent. It isn’t Jiwoo, or yourself either, because she uses strawberry-scented shampoo and vanilla body wash. Which means there is only one explanation…
Jiwoo seems to have reached the same conclusion, because her face suddenly brightens up. “You smell him, don’t you?” she whispers excitedly. “You smell something.”
“Smelled. It’s gone now,” you whisper back, as if the two of you are conspirators, speaking of some forbidden thing.
Jiwoo gasps. “Is it Wonwoo? Jihoon said he was in the car—”
“I don’t know, you said it’s a mile radius so it could be anyone on this street—”
“But what are the chances you smelled him just when Jihoon arrived? It’s got to be Wonwoo, I’ll tell Jihoon to set something up—”
“Oh, my God—”
Jiwoo jumps off the seat and runs over to hug you so suddenly you almost fall over. “I’m so happy for you, Y/N! You finally found him, oh my goodness—”
“But what if it’s not him?” you ask. A mile radius includes a lot of people. For all you know, it could be someone visiting a neighbor.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll mention it to Jihoon tomorrow when he comes over.” Jiwoo grabs your empty cup and drops it into the sink with one hand, turning you around with the other. She leads you out of the kitchen and into her room. “It’s past midnight now. We should sleep and get you ready for your date tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” you squeak.
“Yeah, Jihoon hangs out with him a lot. He’s a nice guy—I’m glad he’s your soulmate,” Jiwoo says, beaming, and turns off the light.
You settle on one side of the queen-sized bed, and Jiwoo flops onto the other with a very unladylike oof. “This is nice,” she comments. “It’s just like before.”
“Yeah,” you agree, and the two of you lapse into a silence so long you’re sure she’s fallen asleep. But you break it anyway. “Can you tell me about Wonwoo?”
“Ah,” Jiwoo says sleepily, but complies anyway. “His name’s Jeon Wonwoo. Hmm, let’s see…he’s pretty tall, nice eyes, a really deep voice. He’s generally pretty quiet, but if you get close enough you’ll find he cracks really stupid jokes and he’s just an awkward guy, I think, but it’s cute. I’m sure you’ll get along great.”
“You think so?” You hate to sound so desperate, especially after giving her your speech about not needing pity and ‘not everyone finds love.’ But now that you’re finally close, there’s a strange sensation in your chest and it’s freeing, because it means that you’re not destined to be alone forever after all.
“Definitely.”
Five minutes later, you find yourself drifting off to sleep with thoughts of a tall, dark-haired boy with golden skin and a smile like the sun.