Chapter 9

Isaiah 50:7

But the Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame.

She woke up tense, her body sore and her ribs pressing on her diaphragm, making her breath stutter slightly. She lay still for several seconds, staring at the ceiling, reminding herself of what had happened.

She did not feel horror nor disgust, but longing. And that in itself was terrifying. Because she had never felt this sort of desire before, it had never crossed her mind.

Her fingers curled around the sheets and she looked to the side, eyes searching for Wonyoung. Wonyoung was already propped slightly on her side, looking back at her with a faint smile. Her hair fell loose across her shoulders, and Jimin's heart jumped at the sight.

"Ca-can you look away please?" She closed her eyes and whispered, biting the inside of her cheek.

"I wanted to make sure you were still breathing," Wonyoung whispered back as she looked away.

"Well, looks like I didn't die in my sleep after all," Jimin breathed out a humorless laugh.

Before Wonyoung could answer, the bell rang. Reality struck back at her, reminding her of her duties. Morning prayers.

They dressed in silence, Jimin fastened her robe with trembling fingers and didn't look at her roommate once, too ashamed to do so.

I shall not be put to shame. But shame had already made a home inside her. She could still feel Wonyoung's lips against hers; every time she swallowed, heat traveled down her throat. She had touched, she had been touched. She remembered perfectly how it felt to be held by another woman, to be comforted by the way her lips brushed against hers, by the way her fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck.

The walk to the classroom was torture; she knew what was awaiting her. Students sat down and she stood behind the desk, her fingers hovering over a page of the Holy Bible. "You can do this, you can do this," she muttered to herself.

When Aeri and Yunjin walked into the classroom, Jimin nearly dropped to her knees to beg God for forgiveness. Air left her lungs, and she instinctively coughed to cover it up. Her fingers traveled on top of her Adam's apple, "God, god, please help me," she murmured again.

She couldn't meet their eyes; not after what had happened the night before. She could not unhear what she had heard, she couldn't forget what she now understood perfectly. The harsh reality she had previously judged, the surrender she herself gave into just minutes after with trembling hands.

Hypocrite. Coward.

She wondered if Aeri could see right through her wobbling posture once again, if sin had altered her gaze, if sinners carried a mark only other sinners could detect. She reached for the chalk and nearly dropped it. When she turned to write on the board, the verse came out slightly uneven because her grip on it wouldn't steady.

She heard a chair scrape, a notebook open, a pencil tap against a desk, a whisper, and even a fly pass by.

Her voice faltered when she spoke, didn't carry the way it usually did, as if she were no longer sure whether she could recite verses that seemed foreign to her. Every word that left her mouth rang with a double meaning now, their weight pressing on her ribs.

At some point, Aeri raised her hand to ask a question, a simple one, but Jimin's heart jumped. It was a question she would have normally welcomed, but her response to it was stiff, too formal. So instead, Wonyoung answered for her.

The longer she stood, the more fidgety she became. Her sleeve kept sliding against the desk edge, her thumb rubbed the inside of her index until it started to hurt. Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Behind the desk, hidden from the students' view, gentle fingers slid between hers.

"Breathe, I'm here," the touch whispered; she could hear the ghost of her voice. Her throat tightened in response, her eyes burned. She did not squeeze it back or reciprocate the touch, unable to do so. But she did not pull away, even as the fear of being seen ate her alive.

When class ended, voices rose and the students thanked them in respectful tones. Aeri's gaze lingered on Jimin and guilt flared so hot that she had to look away. Yunjin smiled at her, and the simplicity of it pierced through her chest.

They knew nothing, but she no longer stood above them, she stood among them, as their equal. She wasn't in a position to be judgemental anymore. She understood now, way more than she could fathom to admit.

Once back in their room, Jimin crossed the space to sink down and clutch at Wonyoung with the helplessness of a child who has just lost their teddy bear. She was shaking so much her teeth chattered.

"Hey. Hey—Jimin look at me."

She tried, God, she tried, but her vision blurred beyond repair, until Wonyoung's face became nothing but a hazy silhouette outline. Her jaw trembled so violently it hurt. "I can't—" Her voice broke before she could finish the sentence. "I can't do this, I can't—"