what a feeling (to be right here beside you now)

Oneshot

Yeah, if Sooyoung didn't feel even the slightest twinge of jealousy, she was as much of a dumb fuck as she appeared to be. To cheat on Jiwoo: Jungeun would never, but it wasn't like Jiwoo liked her back, anyway. There was always someone else in Jiwoo's mind (the shy librarian Haseul, Kahei from Hong Kong who broke her heart, and now Sooyoung), and so, Jungeun had grown used to it.

It didn't stop her from playing around, of course, trying to mend a broken heart, but it never seemed to work. Jiwoo was always there, at the back of her mind, like a ghost that she never let go. Jungeun always let herself be screamed at, in the end, because she deserved it.

But that wasn't the point. Jiwoo finished putting on the dark eyeshadow, and grinned at Jungeun.

Ready?

I was born ready, babe.

Babe, Jungeun mouthed mentally. As if. It felt like a joke in bad taste, sourness filling her mouth like the acrid cigarette smoke.

She still grabs Jiwoo's hand and leads her outside to her motorcycle, and helped her put on the helmet. A thin sheet of rain covers everything, making the world glitter like a faceted diamond against the light.

The dress was strapless, a second skin on Jiwoo. Jungeun took her leather jacket and made Jiwoo wear it. They sat down, and Jungeun fiddled with her keys.

Come on, you don't wanna get a cold, do you? Besides, it makes you look tough, she jokes, and Jiwoo nuzzled against her back, warm and soft, and it almost feels like love. Jungeun committed the feeling to memory, because she was sure it would be the only time she'd feel it.

Heeeyyy there, said Rosé (accent on the e, kinda like the champagne, y'know? she said the first time the two talked. Jungeun still doesn't know why that's important enough to mention. They end up fucking a few days later anyway, because she finds the Australian accent hot), in her sleaziest voice.

Hands off, Rosé, she told the girl, who rolled her eyes before disappearing back in the crowd. Jiwoo snuggled closer to her in the crowded bar, smoke making the world hazy and dream-like. She could see Sooyoung laying down in a couch in the back, Jinsol draped over her, talking with Hyunjung. It's almost a painting.

Jiwoo saw them too, if the way her hand tightening around Jungeun's arm was any sign. She took off the leather jacket, and Jungeun wore it again.

It smelled like Jiwoo and smoke. That wasn't what mattered.

Let's dance. Jiwoo said, louder than the music, but just barely. Jungeun complied, a pawn to the scheme Jiwoo had.

That's how she ended up too close to Jiwoo, eye to eye and able to count the freckles on the bridge of her nose. A few millimeters more and they'd kiss.

Jungeun wanted it. Does Jiwoo, she wondered. She eyed Sooyoung, who was watching with eagle eyes. They changed positions, and she sees the way Jiwoo smirked at Sooyoung, victorious.

Let me kiss you.

Okay.

So she does, and Jiwoo tasted like the cheap strawberry vodka the bar sells, intermingled with the permanent taste of cigarette on Jungeun's mouth, making her dizzy.

She doesn't see Sooyoung move.

Sooyoung all but rips her off from Jiwoo's mouth, throwing her on the floor; the only reason she doesn't fall to the ground is because Bora, bless her, backs her up. She promptly disappeared into the crowd, not wanting to get caught in the ensuing probable fight, but Jungeun can feel the stares, the tension of everyone knowing a fight is brewing in there. The wide circle in the dance floor helps with that impression, a mosh pit for three.