Morning After

Ryujin stirred awake to the faint buzz of a phone and the soft rustle of sheets. For a second, she forgot someone else was in her bed — until Yeji’s arm shifted against her side. The warmth of the blanket and the gentle sunlight peeking through the curtains made her feel cozy, but the sudden awareness of Yeji's proximity made her heart skip a beat. She turned her head, and Yeji’s hair was spread across the pillow, a few strands tangled around her face. Yeji yawned, blinking slowly as she sat up, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “Ugh… what time is it?” she asked, her voice groggy. Ryujin chuckled, trying to keep her tone neutral. “Too early for your boyfriend to start texting you.” She teased, trying to sound casual, but Yeji didn’t laugh. Instead, she glanced down at her phone, her face unreadable. Ryujin studied Yeji's expression, trying to read her emotions. Yeji's eyes were squinting slightly, her brow furrowed in concern. Her lips were pursed, and her skin looked pale in the morning light. “He said I’ve been ‘distracted’ lately,” Yeji said, her voice low. “That I talk about the members too much.” She paused, her eyes still fixed on her phone. Ryujin's internal monologue kicked in. She felt a pang of... something. Was it jealousy? Confusion? A strange flutter in her chest? She pushed the emotions aside, trying to focus on the conversation. “Well… we’re kinda hard not to talk about,” she said, attempting to keep her tone light. But Yeji didn’t answer. She just lay back down, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Do you think I’m… pulling away from him?” she asked quietly. That caught Ryujin off guard. She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. She wanted to say yes, but she shouldn’t. “Do you… want to pull away?” she asked carefully. Another pause. Then Yeji turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Ryujin’s. “I don’t know what I want lately,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The moment lingered, heavy with tension. Ryujin felt like she was drowning in Yeji's eyes, the distance between them shrinking. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, and Ryujin's heart was beating just a little bit faster. As they sat there, the only sound was the faint hum of traffic outside and the soft rustle of the sheets. Yeji sat on Ryujin’s bed, legs crossed, while Ryujin got dressed across the room. It was quiet, easy — like routine — but under the surface, there was tension neither of them was naming. Yeji was perched on the edge of Ryujin’s bed, her head tilted down as her thumbs moved across her phone screen. The light from the window caught in her hair, making it glow in the soft morning haze. Across the room, Ryujin stood with her back half-turned, pulling on a sweatshirt, the hem catching awkwardly on her hip. Ryujin caught the tiniest pause in Yeji’s movements. A sigh. The kind you let out when a text doesn’t feel right. Ryujin glanced up, subtle, her eyes flicking to Yeji through the mirror on her dresser. Yeji's shoulders were a little stiff, her expression unreadable. “Is he bothering you already?” Ryujin asked casually, brushing a hand through her hair, like she hadn’t been watching the whole time. Yeji didn’t look up. “Just checking in,” she said. “He says I seem distant lately.” Ryujin gave a quiet hum, not quite a response. She stepped closer, reaching for a bracelet on the nightstand — just behind where Yeji was sitting. From this angle, Ryujin could see the message still unsent on Yeji’s screen. “Sorry. I’ve just been distracted lately. I think it’s the comeback stuff.” Her thumb hovered, hesitating. Ryujin looked away quickly, pretending to adjust the bracelet on her wrist. She felt a quiet jealousy, her chest tightening, her brain spinning with reasons why Yeji might be hesitating. Was it just stress? Or was Yeji realizing something deeper? Ryujin wanted to ask. She didn’t. “If you’re gonna ghost your boyfriend, at least commit to it properly,” Ryujin said softly, teasing. Yeji finally looked up, startled — then smirked. “I’m not ghosting him,” she said. Ryujin lightly replied, “Could’ve fooled me.” They both laughed, but Ryujin’s smile faded a little too fast. The laugh hung in the air, and Ryujin lingered in that moment — her heartbeat a little faster, her smile a little forced. She didn’t know what to do with this version of Yeji.