CASUAL || Shinez

Chapter 6

It's Chaewon who gets the honor of picking up her broken pieces first.
Chaewon, in all of her exasperated and annoyed glory, holding Yunjin together, rocking her back and forth, as her chest spasms. Yunjin hadn't even managed to drag her ass all the way to Chaewon's apartment, instead collapsing into her own bed and sending a pitiful text that just said tai, please, i need you, and hoping that the other girl understood the urgency.
And she did.
Because she's Chaewon and she's amazing and she's been there for Yunjin for as long as either of them can remember.
"Fuck her," Chaewon growls, resting her back against the headboard of Yunjin's bed, with the girl cuddled up in her arms. Yunjin presses her forehead to Chaewon's sternum, basking in the warmth radiating out from her, the fierce protectiveness, the one reliable thing in the whole world. "I'm so serious Yunjin , fuck her, I mean– who the fuck does she think she is, leading you on like that?"
But it was me, Yunjin thinks, forlorn, shaking against Chaewon. It was me who read the signals wrong.
"Fuck her," Chaewon mumbles again, before pulling the covers over both of them.

*

Kazuha isn't stupid. She knows she's fucked this up big time, but that was always the point. It was her fault for letting it get this far. Her fault for seeing the signs and ignoring them. How long could it have lasted like that, anyways? With Yunjin so obviously pining over her, and with Kazuha indulging it almost every single time? It's not like she didn't notice– not like she didn't air the flames whenever Yunjin would get possessive in public, or whenever she would lean into Kazuha's embrace and kiss her with a little too much meaning to be casual.
Still. Old habits die hard and all that. She's halfway to clicking on the name baby <3 in her contacts the next morning, still sleep-weary, when she remembers what had happened. It takes everything in her to resist tapping on it anyways. It's only been a few hours, she's gone longer without hearing Yunjin's voice, but never because she absolutely had to. Never because she had burned the other girl so badly that she assumed Yunjin would never want to hear from her again.
Kazuha tosses and turns, rolling onto her side, facing away from her phone.
She'll get through this, like she always does. If she survived Somi, she can survive this too.
It's just a girl.
That's all.

*

Two weeks.
That's how long they go without talking to each other.
It's so painfully abrupt that sometimes Kazuha catches herself glancing at the clock in the evening, wondering when Yunjin will come bursting through the door after her shift at the bar; sometimes Yunjin catches herself grabbing her bag to get off the bus at the stop near Kazuha's place. But then it hits them. Cold and jarring. And Kazuha looks away from the clock at the same time that Yunjin sits back down, hugging her bag to her chest.
There are unsent texts, too, as there always are.
Yunjin, typing I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. We were happy before. I miss you. What did I do wrong? Why am I not worth loving? Should I have done something differently? Have you ever dated anyone before? What about me is not enough for you?
Kazuha, typing Can I come over? I need to explain myself. I don't want you to hate me. Please don't hate me. I'm sorry for messing up our night. Sometimes I wish I had just told you that I feel the same. Please don't hate me. Please don't hate me. Please.
None of these texts ever get sent, and the phone remains cold in both of their hands.

*

Full disclosure, Yunjin still waits to see Kazuha around every corner that she turns. Maybe it's because she's a secret masochist who likes inflicting pain upon herself, but she can't help it. Call it a force of habit, if not anything else. When she wakes up and turns over in bed sometimes, her hand instinctively seeks out the warmth that used to be there, only to feel something cold and dreadful seep through her fingertips at the emptiness. It rushes straight to her heart and paralyzes her every time.
So, yeah, she still looks for Kazuha in places she knows she won't find her. And yet, somehow, she doesn't expect to see this–
At a party, with Kazuha laughing and playing beer pong, bumping her shoulder against some girl who seems to have cracked the funniest joke in the world. Chaewon and Minju are on her either side, they've been flanking her the whole night, and they seem to clock the situation at the same time Yunjin does. (How could they not? Kazuha's laugh is soft but sonorous. Yunjin could pick it out in a fucking crowd– and she hates that she's become this sappy. This pathetic version of herself who whines and frowns over a girl she's known for no more than two months).
"Jesus," Minju whispers at the same time Chaewon rolls her eyes. "You'd think she's perfectly fine from the way she's acting."
Chaewon grits her teeth. "Well she is fine, because she's a manipulative bitch."
Yunjin winces. "Guys–"
"She's right, Yunjin ," Minju interjects with a raised eyebrow. "She hasn't called or texted in two weeks– hasn't even so much as apologized for leaving you broken hearted, and we're supposed to, what? Think she's a good person?"
"Well I haven't called or texted her in two weeks either."
Chaewon elbows her, hard. "You're the victim. Why the hell would you text her or call her?"
And sure, maybe victim is too dramatic of a word to describe Yunjin as, because it wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming. She'd just hoped for better. Hoped for a different outcome. Yunjin sinks back into herself, hoping that Chaewon and Minju surrounding her will be enough so that no one else in the party perceives her. She feels worse and worse with every passing second and Kazuha doesn't look like she's hurt at all. She fishes the ping pong ball out of the red solo cup, drenching her fingers in the alcohol and then licking it off in a way that's entirely too provocative to be innocent – and Yunjin's eyes track to the other side of the table. Where there's a girl. A very pretty girl. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a glittering row of teeth. She's seen her around, Ryujin, Yunjin thinks is her name.
She burns up inside.
Heartbroken as she is, however, she's also not one to back down without showing Kazuha that she's doing just fine as well. So she straightens her shoulders, swallows down the ball of rumpled sandpaper in her throat, and nudges her friends. "Come on," she says, eyeing the backdoors through which there are people shotgunning weed from each other's mouths. "Let's not think about her."
Chaewon grins and slings an arm over Yunjin's shoulders as Minju good Yunjin uredly grabs her free hand. "Atta girl."

*

Yeonjun Choi, as it turns out, is absolutely shit at shotgunning. And Yunjin can also faintly smell something like garlic coming out of his breath, which makes the whole experience entirely unenjoyable. Chaewon and Minju have snuck off somewhere in else to make out, but Yunjin just wants to get fucking high and she wants to do it with someone else – which means this is the best that she can do, for now.
"You're really pretty," he tells her, in a slurred voice that makes Yunjin cringe. On any other day, it might have gotten her. Under any other sky, any other stars— Yunjin could see herself liking him. Sure, he's cute, has that boyish smile girls love, but he's not her.
"Thanks," she mumbles, and forces the joint back into his fingers, raising her eyebrows. More, she says, without saying anything.
Thankfully, Yeonjun isn't opposed to it either, as he takes another long drag and grabs the back of her neck, pulling her in.
And here's where it all starts to unravel, as it always meant to.
There's a window overlooking the backyard, straight from the dining room of the frat house, where Kazuha had been playing beer pong with that pretty girl. Yunjin doesn't think much of it– hadn't even thought to glance in that direction when she first came out here because that would mean she thinks that Kazuha cares. And Kazuha doesn't. She made that abundantly clear two weeks ago.
Yet, for whatever reason, Yunjin looks. She looks at that damn window, and finds her own hurt mirrored back at her in Kazuha's eyes. With Yeonjun's mouth open in front of her, brushing her own, smoke curling between teeth and tongue, she holds Kazuha's eye contact, compelled by some force beyond herself, and watches her shoulders tense, even from far away. There's no reason – no reason – she should be acting like that. She was the one who broke it off with Yunjin, she was the one who said no strings. But she keeps looking, oil-slick and compelling, making Yunjin 's gut roll with an emotion she's become intimately familiar with.
She lets her eyes slip shut.
By the time she opens them again, Kazuha is gone.
She pulls away from Yeonjun, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She feels guilty– like she's done something wrong, even though she hasn't, because even if her and Kazuha used to be something, they definitely aren't that anymore. Which means she has free rein to kiss whoever she wants and shotgun weed from whoever she wants.
"Damn," Yeonjun whispers, all dopey and relaxed. "Hey, did you wanna go insi–"
"Yunjin ."
She freezes. After two weeks of not hearing Kazuha's voice, it's easy to get flustered. Her voice makes Yunjin feel foggy. Her gut rolls in both anxiety and excitement, because it's– it's her. It's really her. And even though Yunjin hasn't turned around to face her yet, hasn't looked her in the eyes and combatted all that she knows will be swimming in them, her soul lurches unrestfully. She knows that this can be no good, that nothing meaningful has ever come from jealousy, but they're twenty years old, and hot-blooded, and wanting in a way that they won't be once the years begin to pile up. So she relents.
"Kazuha," Yunjin responds, turning to find Kazuha looking at her with an expression that is entirely blank. If it weren't for the subtle twitching of her fingers, Yunjin never would have suspected there was anything wrong at all. "Can I help you?"
Kazuha levels her with a look that's entirely dangerous and Yunjin preens under it. To be looked at by Kazuha as if she's fighting to keep herself from digging her fingers into Yunjin for reasons that are not too healthy, is easier than to not be looking at Kazuha at all. It's easier than not talking to Kazuha. It's easier than most things that she's done in the last two weeks because she would rather have Kazuha like this than not have her at all.
"I'm sorry," Kazuha frowns, looking and sounding not sorry at all. "Am I interrupting something?"
Yeonjun, the poor man, finally finds his opening to speak, and says, "Actuall–"
Only to be brutally cut down by Yunjin , falling victim to the things she's been held captive by for her whole life. "No."
She hears Yeonjun make a disappointed noise behind her, but it doesn't even matter. Nothing matters other than the fact that Kazuha is looking at her– that Kazuha wants her– that Kazuha would leave her beer pong game with the pretty girl and her pretty eyes, just to drag Yunjin away from someone else.
This won't pan out right. She can already tell. In the single second it takes between Kazuha making up her mind and grabbing Yunjin's wrist, she can see it all. She can see the smooth edges of what will happen tonight, she can see the lush red curves of it, the peak of it that will gasp and moan and be imprinted in Yunjin's head for weeks; she can see the jagged edges afterwards, too. She can see herself, left cold and wanting, but still not wanted. She can see herself, holding her own arms to her chest because it's the only thing she has left, trying desperately not to ache anymore. She can see all of it, the joy, the pain, the exhaustion, and all it takes is a single second. But it also only takes a single second to decide that it's worth it, because she's missed her.
Pathetic, she thinks to herself, as Kazuha grabs her wrist and drags her back into the house. There's nothing left to say, no words for each other, and certainly no words for Yeonjun, who dutifully slumps back into his stupor, admitting defeat for the night. Yunjin can't even bring herself to look for Chaewon and Minju, because she knows the mirage will disappear if she does. And she doesn't want it to.
She wonders how she looks, as Kazuha drags through the backdoors and then out the front door, slowing down only once they've hit the cemented path that traces all the way back to Kazuha's apartment. She wonders if she looks wan, dimmed by the intensity of the night, or if she looks more real than she's looked in her whole life, invigorated by the excitement of the moment. None of these things are possible to know about without asking someone, but what she does know is that Kazuha looks nervous. Or disgusted. Or both.
"Kazuha," she says, once their walk has slowed, once the air around them has calmed down, but is no less charged. There's no question where this is leading tonight, what it's going to end with, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't talk before it.
Kazuha jerks her head choppily in what Yunjin can only imagine is a nod.
"Kazuha, what– what are we do–"
"Don't." Kazuha says, and it's a warning as much as it is a plea. "Please don't. I don't think– I can't–"
And that's all it takes really, for Yunjin to give in, because she's always been soft at heart. So she lets Kazuha slip her hand down from Yunjin's palm and lace their fingers together, lets their steps fall together in tandem as they make the recognizable trek back to Kazuha's house.
She notes something different about Kazuha in this quietness, where for just a moment in time they're nothing more than two girls at college. Two girls, hand in hand, under one sky. Two girls, not weathered by time yet but still somehow haunted. And maybe it's stupid to hope the way that Yunjin does, maybe it's stupid for her to think this, but it happens anyways. She thinks, maybe she does like me the way I like her. Maybe she just needs some time.
And yet—
This is the last time, Kazuha says pitifully against her lips, pinning her to the door before they even make it inside. She's cupping both cheeks, holding on as if she means to say this is the first of many more, but Yunjin knows what she heard. She wonders if Kazuha means it. They seem like words said more to herself than anyone else, as if she's convincing herself, as if she's locking herself into a cage that prevents her from ever reaching out for Yunjin .
Hope, as you can see, is a deadly thing.
"Okay," Yunjin says, and allows Kazuha to swallow her whole.