(Un)forgiven

So, Liz cleared your blue balls.

The blue balls that Eunchae cursed upon you, with her lips and a smear of frosting.

Looking back at that forlorn January night when you first happened to stumbled upon Cozy’s Coffee and Cakes, you never thought that your life would be this… eventful, to say the least. The months seemed like a blur, but it was Liz that helped you realize it. How she fucked you while begging, commanding you to recount your time with Chaewon and Eunchae.

And still, now, your mind swims with the two despite your balls being irrefutably not blue.

Cozy’s hums with the sound of brewing espresso, notes of chocolate and butter wafting through it in almost cartoonish lines of smell. And manning the store is you and Chaewon, fresh off of your argument.

It’s been awkward, to say the least. The cafe is busier than when you started your crusade of the cafe cuties, but not overwhelming like it was when your face cake went viral. Yunjin was right, it evened out to a manageable flow once the Tiktok stopped trending.

“We can probably leave early today. It’s not that busy,” Chaewon says scanning the cafe.

While the thought of leaving early is intriguing, you honestly can’t take this. You miss her— the Chaewon that used to tease you, who used to challenge you to latte art battles and hit you on the shoulder. You miss the Chaewon who would pout, even the Chaewon who would scold you. But your argument left Chaewon almost apathetic.

“Mm-hmm,” you reply.

As predicted, the rest of the shift is smooth. Chaewon doesn’t treat you bad, she treats you exactly how a manager would treat an employee— a good one at that. But that’s not what you want. Even Liz see’s it. So when she say’s “we’re pretty much finished. I can finish up— go home, get some rest,” something inside you flicks.

“Chaewon,” you say with humble earnestness.

She looks up as if you’re going to tell her something unimportant, like ‘don’t forget to lock the door’.

“I’m sorry.”

She’s taken aback, as if she doesn’t expect it. It honestly hurts, to know she never thought you would reach out, try to mend things. Did she really think you were okay with just being coworkers again?

You can tell by her tension she knows what you’re talking about— the way she approached you with an idea, to hire more people, and all you had was unwarranted jealousy. Jealousy over the boys who flocked to the cafe to see the cute girls that smushed cake it your face. “It’s fine. Everyone spills coffee,” she answers, ignoring what you really mean.

“Chaew— It’s not that.”

Her eyes don’t meet yours, instead they hover somewhere behind you. “I get it,” she says, and her voice is defensive and on edge. “You aren’t the manager. I shouldn’t have approached you with the idea. I can hire people on my own.”

“I know but— I want to be someone you can rely on. And I haven’t been that.”

Her eyes finally find yours, and her lips are closed, but you can tell she’s listening. She just needs something more.

“I wasn’t, because I was jealous.” You let the words sit there between you, and she studies you, as if weighing them. She’s not asking for more anymore, and the tension in her shoulders drops.

She shuffles over to you, arms drooping at her sides, and her face lets all of it show, all of the tiredness, the exhaustion that she’s been guarding from you since your fight. “It’s late, you should get some rest,” she says, and after a moment, her hand swings to your shoulder in the familiar arc of her smack.

It’s just hard enough to sting, but just soft enough to say: “I get it”, and not in a standoffish kind of way. Not forgiveness— just acknowledgement. And you’re hopeful that maybe things will get better.

You spend the next couple of days filtering through resumes Chaewon has kept in a counter under the desk. Something to show her that she can, in fact, rely on you. And it’s a start. She’s even talking to you at work again, sort of.

It’s not enough, however, to distract you from another one of your problems. The problem of a 5’7” ball of mischief in your other coworker, Eunchae.

“You said you promised you would hang out next time,” she says, leaning against the counter. It’s the end of your shift, the store emptied out of customers and closed, save for Yunjin, who’s presumably working on her laptop.

“Did I?”

She flicks a spoon of cake at you. “Yes.”

“Really? ‘Cause that doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”

“I have receipts!”

You sigh. “I don’t know if I can today, I still want to help Chaewon go through resumes. Now can you please help me clean the kitchen so we can leave?”

More cake, on the floor this time. “Not until you say you’re hanging out with us.” Then, she’s leaning forward onto the counter you’re wiping with that mischievous smile. “Plus, we didn’t get to finish last time in the bathroom,” she says, bringing a frosting lined tip of her finger up to her mouth. She licks it in an evocative reenactment of the aforementioned bathroom activities.

“Will you chill! Yunjin is gonna hear you!” You whisper-yell.

“Let her hear,” she smiles.

And she’s looking at you, all eyes and smile, and you know despite her damn audaciousness, it’s always fun to hang out with her. “What are we doing?” You sigh.

“So you’ll come?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She pokes the side of your belly, sending a jolt up your spine. “Nope. Yunjin! He’s gonna hang out with us!”

Yunjin gives that awkward ‘yay’, the one reserved for those you want to come to your plans, but aren’t particularly close to. “Should I ask Chaewon if she wants to come?”

“Here, let me,” you say, relishing an excuse to gauge how mad she still is at you. She answers your call in about 3 rings— good sign, I think.

“Hmm?” Her voice rings through the phone, and Eunchae crowds around you.

“Yeah— hi. We’re gonna hang out— me Yunjin and Eunchae. Do you want to come?”

“Where?” She says, and you can hear her exhaustion through the line.

You look around at the two girls. “Uhh, we’re not sure yet.”

“Mmm— I have a lot of work to do. But you guys have fun,” Chaewon sighs.

“But you have to come! We haven’t hung out in so long,” Eunchae whines.

“I mean,” Chaewon says hesitantly. “You guys can come over I guess. I’ll be working, though.”

Eunchae’s eyes light up, that damn smile that signals diablerie lining her face.

“No alcohol.” Chaewon says as if she can see it.

You sit on Chaewon’s couch, hovering over Yunjin’s laptop.

“Maybe shift image to the left a bit— a bit off center would look good. Rule of thirds,” Chaewon points to the laptop.