Down bad.

You are down bad for Enami Asa.

Yes, your girlfriend. You’re so down bad for her.

There’s no other way to phrase it. You are down bad, like so down bad. You remember how she takes her coffee, how your walking pace slows down subconsciously just so you stay beside her, and how you always apologise first even if you’re unsure what the hell you did.

Which…is probably why you’re standing frozen in the middle of your shared living apartment, staring at the floor with the heart stuck in your throat. The vase is in pieces. Shattered. Obliterated. You had to look again, and yes, it is the vase that Asa bought when you both first moved into the place. Porcelain shards scatter across the vinyl floor, the flowers that were inside now lay on the ground. The horrible quiet afterwards makes your spine shivers, and it takes you a moment before you register what just happened.

“Oh fuck.”

You drop to your knees immediately, and your hands do this weird hovering thing as if magic will come out to repair it. “Ah shit, fuck. No, no, no. Okay. Fine. Hell no it’s not fine, but it’s, hm.. Can I glue this? People glue stuff all the time, right?” You ramble as panic begins to climb fast. “I’ll just carefully—”

“You’re rambling to yourself again.”

You let out a hiccup as you hear the voice coming from behind you. You slowly turn around and, ah shit.

Asa’s standing there. In the doorway, smiling. You know those smiles that aren’t tight-lipped nor polite, but the soft and fond smile like she’s in love? Yeah, the kind she always gives you when you’re darn stupid but endearing. The hoodie sleeves (wait, pretty sure that hoodie is yours) covering her hands, her long pink hair a little messy, and completely calm.

Your heart drops down straight to your stomach. “Oh, hey, Asa.”

She walks over with light steps, and you could only stand there and watch her approach like a kid watching his parents coming over to see the shitshow but you’re powerless to stop it. She looks down at the crime scene on the floor, then back at you…and still smiling. Ah, shit.

“Did something happen?” Gosh, the sweet note in her voice and the way she keeps her smile on makes you sweat buckets.

“I…uh..”

SMACK.

Her hand comes down flat against your upper back. Well, it wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but surely hard enough to make a statement, and hard enough for you to yelp.

She’s mumbling as she keeps smacking you, accompanied by low and rapid mumbles that are absolutely not Korean. Her smile is still there, but it scares the shit out of you. You don’t understand the full phrase, but you don’t need to — she always does this when she’s seriously mad yet doesn’t look like she is. It’s clear that your days are so numbered (Well, not really, but let’s not go to the gritty details.)

“…okay, okay, ow ow ow!” you wheeze, hands up. “I deserved that. I deserved that.”

She gives you one more sharp pat between the shoulders like she’s finishing the thought, then finally steps back. The smile fades just a little as she looks at the broken pieces again. “That was my favourite vase, you know? Your mom bought it for us when we first rented this place.” Her voice remains light, but her eyes surely aren’t.

“I know,” you say immediately. “I’m really sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to. I was reaching for my phone and—”

She sighs, rubbing her temples, then points at the floor. “Clean it up, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And don’t cut yourself,” she adds flatly. “That would make me even more annoyed.”

“Copy that.”

You kneel back down, carefully picking up each shard like a grenade that might explode in your face if you move wrong. But that is nothing compared to the intense glare you can feel from behind. Asa sighs and mutters under her breath again, probably not a compliment. Your shoulders slump.

Damn it. Right when the trip is tomorrow as well. You pray that a good night’s sleep will sooth her anger away. Hopefully.

Yeah she is still mad, and you can absolutely feel the energy from behind before you both even reach the departure gate.

Sunglasses indoors. Her arms crossed so tight like she refuses to be near you. Her noise-cancelling headphones are in, of course they are. Asa walks half a step ahead of you, rolling her suitcase like she’s about to do business and you’re just a mess. Adding the cherry on top, she hasn’t looked at you once, like at all.

You trail after her like a kicked puppy, passport in one hand, phone in the other, guilt sitting heavy in your chest. Every few steps, you open your mouth like you’re going to say something. Every time, you close it again, not daring to add more fuel to the fire that is Enami Asa. Far out, you dream of this trip as a super romantic alone time with your favourite girl, envisioning moments of you holding her hands through security while whispering dumb dad jokes in line. Letting Asa take a selfie at the gate for her to brag with her friends.

Nah, just penance now.

It was so awkward when checking in with the attendant. Asa refused to answer when he asked if you two travelled together. She slides her passport across the counter without a word. It’s only when the attendant asks again when she nods and still refuses to look at you.

You tried again while waiting for your boarding passes with utmost care. Still nothing. (You sigh and stare very hard at the floor afterwards.)

Security is worse. Much, much worse. She goes through first — shoes off, bag in the tray, smooth and efficient. You? Fumbling behind her, almost forget to take your camera out, which earns a disappointed look from the staff. By the time you catch up to her on the other side, she’s already putting her headphones back on.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Can you—”

She finally looks at you. Just a glance over the top of her sunglasses. One eyebrow raised.

You swallow. “…Can you pause your music for a second? Please? Asa?”

She stares at you for a long moment, then sighs dramatically and slides one side of the headphones off. “Five seconds.”

“Okay. I just want to say… you’re still upset, I know. I get it. I just—” You hesitate, then push through. “I don’t want this trip to feel bad for you.”

“Totally not.” she says, quiet but sharp. Ah shit. That one cuts deep when she uses sarcasm.

"Okay, okay, I hear you.” You say quickly. “I'll…make up to you. Whatever you want. Shopping. Food. Fun stuff. I’ll behave. I’ll be good.”

She scoffs. “What are you doing? You aren’t a dog.”

“I can be.” The fuck, your mouth yaps before your brain registered. “W-well, I mean, maybe not walk on all fours, but, you know, I just blur— ugh, I don’t know anymore.”

That…somehow brings out a snort from her? Guess that is a small win.

At the gate, she takes the seat farthest from you. You sit one chair away. Not next to her. You’ve learned your lesson. Minutes pass, and you watch people board, announcements echo overhead. Asa is at the corner of your peripheral, tapping her foot, adjusting her sleeve, and (obviously) keep glancing at you.

Eventually, she pulls one headphone off again.

“You’re carrying my bag,” she says.

Your head snaps up. “I am?”

“Yes, please.” she says, already pushing it toward you with her foot. “My shoulder hurts.”

You grab it instantly. “Aye aye. I’ve got it.”

She pauses, watching you sling it over your shoulder.

“…And you’re buying extra complimentary meals on the plane for me,” she adds.