A quiet night

We were inseparable the rest of the day, though the wanton lust gave way to a softer kind of intimacy as we drifted through the hours, the constant release of my essence quickly draining me. We turned towards more mundane things, Haeun rearranging what little knick-knacks I had lying around my room while waiting for me to recover, and me whipping up dinner in the kitchen when we couldn't ignore the growling of our stomachs anymore.

She hugged me from behind as I busied myself at the stove, humming a tune that was unfamiliar as she swayed back and forth.

"Do you think this would be what our life would be like if I hadn't joined the competition?" She asked suddenly.

Her arms tightened around my waist as the question lingered in the air, the softness of her body pressing into my back. The smell of garlic and soy sauce rose from the pan as I paused, and I could feel her cheek against the back of my neck, warm and tender.

"I don’t know," I said, restarting my stirring absent-mindedly. "Maybe? Or maybe we’d have been miserable instead. You'd be busy studying for endless quizzes and finals instead of doing what you love, and I wouldn't have free access tickets to K-pop concerts."

Her laugh was soft, a whisper of air that tickled my neck. "You're such a dick," she murmured.

"Not a dick. Just being realistic," I said, though I couldn’t help the small grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. "But I do know one thing: we'd still be together. And that's enough for me, no matter how things turn out."

She stayed silent for a moment, her humming replaced by the crackling and splattering of oil as the garlic popped and goldened. Then, quietly, almost as if confessing a sin, she said, "I think about it all the time, even at work. What our life would have been like if I hadn't become an idol. At first, I thought I'd made the right choice—that this was what I wanted. But recently... I'm not so sure."

I turned off the burner and set the spatula down, twisting slightly to look at her. Her face was close, her eyes wide and searching, the oversized sleeves of the sweater she had dug out of my closet brushing against my arms. "What are you saying?" I asked, my voice low, unsure.

She stepped back just enough to let me turn fully, her hands still resting lightly on my sides. "I mean, I spend every waking moment trying to be someone else," she said. "Someone the fans can love, someone the company can sell. I smile when I’m told to smile, eat only the scraps I'm given, wear clothes I hate, and say things I don’t mean. I’ve gotten so good at it, too—so good that sometimes I forget I'm even pretending."

She took a shuddering breath, as if bracing herself for something painful. "It's exhausting."

The weight of her words settled in the room, pressing down like summer heat even in the middle of winter. I reached out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she leaned into the touch, her eyes closing briefly. "Haeun," I said, my voice firm but gentle, "you're still you. Maybe you've changed, but who doesn't? But you're still the same person who used to drag me to the park at midnight because you thought for some reason we can see stars in the middle of Seoul. The same person who cried over the ending of that awful show and still made me rewatch it with you, twice."

She smiled at that, that same shy, tilted smile I've fallen for so many years ago, her lips curving in that way that made my heart stutter. "I guess," she said, her voice softer now. "But if I cannot be the same person that you fell in love with, even for you, will you still feel the same?"

I cupped her face in both hands and brought her lips to mine, kissing her deeply, pouring every ounce of emotion I had into the action. She responded in kind, melting against me, her fingers gripping my shirt tightly as if afraid I might disappear if she let go.

When we broke apart, breathless, I rested my forehead against hers, our noses brushing together lightly. "You'll always be the person I love, Haeun. No matter what." My voice was rough, choked with emotion.

She blinked rapidly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Thank you, Joonie." She swallowed thickly. "I think... I just needed to hear that."

We stood there for a moment longer before Haeun's stomach rumbled loudly, breaking through the heaviness that had settled between us. I chuckled softly, brushing away a stray tear from her cheek with my thumb. "Come on," I said, nodding towards the stove behind me, "Let's finish up cooking. We can talk more later."

As we settled around the table for the meal, the conversation turned lighter. After dinner, we cuddled on the couch and made love again, though I could tell the intensity of our sex from before were gone. She came, a soft, trembling sigh escaping her lips as I held her close.

We put on a movie after that, but by the time the credits rolled across the screen, Haeun had already fallen asleep, snuggled up against me, her breath slow and even. I brushed a lock of her hair from her face and let my hand rest lightly on her back.

She sighed contentedly in her sleep, curling into me further.