8:31 AM

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“Hey. Hey.”

You’re used to mornings.

To shivering out of subconsciousness when the sheets are removed from your contorted torso. To the noise of early morning traffic blaring into your innocent eardrums. To the scent of your first cup of coffee for the day that you have yet to brew.

What you aren’t used to is seeing your friend-with-benefit still sitting along the edge of her bed with her bare back to you at eight-thirty-one in the morning.

What you aren’t used to is waking up next to Jang Wonyoung.

“I thought you’d never wake up. You look way too comfortable sleeping like that in someone else’s bed,” she scoffs, tossing her caramel hair back, letting it flow in practiced ripples between her shoulders. “Go get some more rest if you need it. God knows you could use some more after last night.”

Her last words send a ringing through your skull, and suddenly, it all comes crashing down at once.

The incessant ringing of your phone from outside the shower doors. The sudden flapping and flittering of clothes all around you in frantic search of your best polo. The clinking of champagne flutes underneath extravagant chandeliers. The ingestion of hors d’ouevres that costed more than your yearly salary. The impatient overlapping of hands and lips and legs in the backseat of your ride home from the restaurant.

When your mind finally settles onto her again, Wonyoung’s raising her brow, lips pulled taut in judgment as she adds, “So. That happened.”

You don’t want to, but you have to ask. “Did we …?”

“We did. Like always. No need to make a big deal out of it.”

Wonyoung lifts from her bed and stretches, unabashed over how she’s giving you the full view of her behind now. Apathetic to your gawking, she picks out a loose tee from her cabinet and slips into it, tying a ponytail through the same motion. Wonyoung sits down by her window-side desk and picks up the book that was left atop it. She proceeds to read. Reading like you two didn’t just share a meal, share a bed, and share a night together.

She goes about her routine like you aren’t even there.

Your eyes burn holes into her silken sheets as you realize what this meant.

You had sex again with your fuck buddy, Jang Wonyoung.

You think back. Back to where it all began. From before last night. From before any of this.

You and Wonyoung have been sleeping with each other for a year now. It’s strictly casual—that’s how she puts it. She needs to destress from her stringent life. You need a warm body to tangle with every so often. The arrangement works. It fits you both like a glove. Until you do more than just sleep together. Until the sleeping together has been happening more often over time. And before you knew it you’re caught in a capricious cyclone that is Jang Wonyoung.

And now you’re here. In her bed. Not having remembered a single thing about your latest tryst.

Neither of you have said a word for the past half hour now. But how can you? The moment you so much as tune your gaze towards her you’re immediately met with the determined look chiseled upon her countenance. The steady pace at which she is reading her latest book—Thinking Fast and Slow by Kahneman. The persistent blend of wild strawberry, gardenia, and patchouli permeating her personal quarters.

“Help yourself, and see yourself out when you’re able to,” she reminds you. Stern like a warning. Brief like an obligation. “Your clothes might have ended up in the hamper. You aren’t very particular when you get rid of them—tossing them all over the place and all.”

“Right.”

When you get up, bits all dangling and aerated like that, she doesn’t even bat an eye. She turns the page of her book and squints as if rereading a part she couldn’t quite grasp the first time.

You think of approaching her, but you’d rather not disturb her without any good reason. She’s always like that. In her own little secluded world. Atop the tallest ivory tower within her fortified fortress surrounded by the menacing moat she’s built herself over the years.

Without much else, you find your way into your clothes and navigate her kitchen with ease. When you return to Wonyoung, you pull up a chair to sit across her, taking a long and loud sip from your mug.

“I see you’ve decided to get comfortable in someone else’s home. Can’t say I’m surprised,” she jabs, gaze still fixated upon the page. “I’m a bit disappointed that you’ve decided to just—.”

She pauses upon hearing a second mug being placed down on the table that’s sliding over to her.

“Oh.”

With one thumb on the page, her other hand picks up the cup of coffee. She sniffs it. “This had better—.”

She takes a sip and is placated almost immediately. “Huh. A simple espresso.”

“With a dash of sugar, of course. The waffles will have to follow. They’re still in the machine,” you mention, taking another sip from your mug.

Wonyoung’s eyes dart to you now. “Pesky, are you?”

You throw your hands up in faux surrender. “I was going for thoughtful, but sure. That works.”

Another moment of silence. A moment you share with Wonyoung as she continues to read, and you continue to drink, and neither of you exchange glances nor words as you simply exist next to each other.

As you simply be.

“You’re still here,” she points out, turning to the next chapter. You can tell because she does the little dogear at the bottom of the page to mark it. “I envy your … insouciant lifestyle, but unfortunately, I can’t keep accommodating you like this all day.”

Ok. That stings. Both her pretentious tone and her actual remark. “Have something planned? Had I known, I’d have been out of your hair sooner, Wonnie—.”

“Don’t—I already told you.”

Once you see her restore her expression to a calmer state, you nod. “Right. Just Wonyoung. Sorry.”

“I have plans. Plenty of plans. Not involving you in the slightest,” she shifts back, turning the page again. “Plans that are none of your business.”

“Now that’s cold. Even for you. Already got what you brought me here for?”

She glares at you. “Yes. We already fucked. You’ve already gotten what you came here for as well.”

“Always lovely having conversations with you like this, Wonyoung. You’ve got a way with words and keeping discussions afloat.”

“And you have a way of extending it beyond its due,” she quips back.

You shrug and let it be. “Well, I’ll be out of your hair in no time. Just waiting for my ride.”

Wonyoung rolls her eyes and doesn’t even bite back, burying her nose into her book once more.

Your ride takes a while. A long while.