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startoayoungcult · 1 year

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scrapped: "love and cherish, now and forever" // heehye wedding au

wrote this almost a year ago, i'm not happy enough with it to post on ao3, so i figured posting it here is better than completely abandoning it forever. 3.2k words.

cw // implied homophobia

Hyeju woke up again to her augmenting nerves and a fading hangover. She reached over to the nightstand, forcing down another bite of her protein bar and a couple sips of water, despite the weightless sensation in her stomach. The bedroom was dark except for the piercing streak of early afternoon sunlight peeking from her blackout curtains.

She took a deep breath and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. For a second, it eased the pounding in her head. In a state like this, she wanted to stay here forever, burying herself under every blanket and pillow until it subsided.

However, Hyeju knew that wasn’t an option today. The wedding was only hours away at this point, and she would do anything for the love of her life to have the day of her dreams. Even if it meant crawling out of bed.

Hyeju rubbed her aching forehead as a memory came back: one of the two of them in this very bed, fresh in her mind as if it were yesterday.

Hyeju gripped the spare pillow tighter over her head to block out the white light from Heejin’s phone. Her partner had been sitting upright on her side of the bed scrolling through Pinterest.

Even though she was the one to insist they both try to catch up on sleep, Hyeju’s adoring curiosity got the better of her as she peeked through the space between the pillowcase and her arm. After all, next to her was the goddess of messy buns in one of Hyeju’s own oversized t-shirts, mindlessly twisting the fabric of the black neckline between her fingers.

Hyeju was convinced that Heejin’s thumbs had explored every wedding-related board on that app. Tonight, Hyeju watched as she searched through half a dozen different shapes of dresses. Flower arrangements in soft pinks, creams, and whites. A “hack” for a photobooth decorated with old Christmas lights and bedsheets. Mason jar lanterns, even.

Heejin’s wedding board was no secret to Hyeju. It was her partner’s current passion project, with every couple days she was suggesting a new venue for their ceremony or a location for their honeymoon straight off the cover of a magazine. It was altogether adorable to Hyeju, although she herself was the type of person who didn’t look deep enough into the future to plan what she would have for dinner that night.

(“Would you rather wear a dress, a jumpsuit, or a suit? This suit would match my dream gown perfectly. But I only like it if you like it!”)

Hyeju thought it was all really sweet, genuinely. But she wasn’t ready to elaborately map out that sort of thing right now. She’d never considered marriage before, although at this point she was certainly convinced on spending her forever with Heejin. Nevertheless, if the fantasy of a fairytale wedding meant so much to her, Hyeju was in.

“Heejin,” she groaned, swatting the other girl with the pillow in a show of feigned annoyance. “Get some sleep, please. You work early tomorrow.”

As Hyeju drifted off to sleep that night, she found herself dreaming about their future wedding, too.

In retrospect, even back then, there was every reason for their future to seem impossible. After all, the two started dating so young and naive and with no choice but to be frugal. Moreover, Hyeju was always nervous to tell her family about falling in love with a woman, and Heejin knew she was better off dead if she did.

I hope it’s all worth it for you today, Hyeju wished she could tell her.

Hyeju slid over to the edge of the mattress and fumbled with the cord of the lamp, wincing as the light came on. She shut the drawer to the bedside table, having not remembered going through it the night before.

The clock on the far side of the room—which she squinted to read—indicated that she ought to start getting ready. It may be the most unforgettable day of her life, after all.

Her vertigo urged her to spare five more minutes before getting up. She looked over to her other side and found herself eyeing the patterns of the crinkles of the sheets on the empty space in her bed. Everything she and Heejin experienced had led up to this, didn’t it?

Over the weeks leading up to today, Hyeju’s mind was always cycling through moments of their past and visions of an idyllic future together. But right now, there wasn’t enough time to spiral into that headspace again.

Hyeju swung her legs over the edge of the bed and gulped down the rest of her granola bar and made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Left alone in silence except for the buzzing of the flickering old fluorescent light, her idle mind busied itself with another episode of the past.

A teasing groan of Hyeju’s name came from the bathroom. The younger woman had been waiting for her girlfriend to finish getting ready for their date (she’d made a bet with Heejin that she could get ready in half the time that Heejin took—and was currently winning, no less). Hyeju set her phone down on the bed and got up to see what was the matter.

Heejin leaned halfway over the sink as she swished her makeup brush in circles around a pink-toned eyeshadow palette. The counter appeared as though the couple had claimed their shared territory with a variety of cosmetic and skincare items. Considering Heejin spent more nights here than in her own apartment, Hyeju suggested they might as well share products and a space to use them in.

Heejin went on to try to scold Hyeju, but the sides of her mouth turned upwards as she met her gaze. “If you don’t get this light fixed, I’m leaving you, you hear me?” She motioned up at the blinking yellow overhead light with the rounded brush.

Playing mean with her girlfriend was always a challenge to Heejin, and Hyeju loved to make her tough front crumble. She threw an arm around Heejin, planting a kiss in her brown hair as she giggled and tried to lean out of the half-embrace.

They made eye contact again in the mirror. This was the most stunning human Hyeju had ever seen, with a half-painted face, magenta slippers, and the rabbit-eared plush makeup headband. Hyeju knew she herself had to be the luckiest person in the world.

“The light works fine! It’s more than enough for me to do stuff in here.” she retorted. A smile made its way across her face again. “It’s enough for you to do your makeup here, too.” Hyeju flashed her best smirk. “You don’t look all that bad, after all.”

Heejin puffed out a sigh and resumed her focus back to applying her mascara. Although she had yet to put on blush, the apples of her cheeks turned a rosy color.

Heejin narrowed her eyes at Hyeju’s reflection. “You know, lightbulbs aren’t even that expensive?” She could tell Heejin was trying to shoot her a seething glare, but it had an unmistakable undertone of tenderness and loveliness instead.

“You already ordered me some, remember? These are the new ones, but it still does that thing.”

Underneath the little games and jokes they played with each other, Heejin was incredibly thoughtful, always getting little things for Hyeju, most valuable being the gift of her own time. The banter they shared just happened to be their favorite love language.

“Then you can hire someone to fix it!”

Hyeju rolled her eyes. “You know I’m too cheap to pay someone to do that unless I absolutely have to.”

Heejin turned to face Hyeju head-on, raising an eyebrow.

“If you’re so cheap, then why are you taking me out to the nicest restaurant in town for our half-anniversary?” Her tongue was pressed to the inside of her cheek.

Hyeju wrinkled her nose, flipping through her head to come up with another quick remark.

Heejin continued before she had a chance. “Do you like me or something? You’re so cringe.”

“Cringe?” As if by instinct, Hyeju’s hands found their way to Heejin’s waist. Hyeju wasn’t a touchy person, and had certainly never been one to enjoy physical displays of affection. But something about Heejin was magnetic to her, especially when she was losing the upperhand in their little teasing matches.

Hyeju let out a theatrical sigh and looked down at her girlfriend. She dropped her voice to something sultry and almost demeaning. She gave a warning, “Oh Heejin, you leave me no choice but to do this, you know?”

Hyeju pulled their bodies flush together and Heejin’s arms slipped into place, crossed behind her partner’s head.

It’s a little hard to kiss someone when neither of you can stop grinning ear to ear for very long.

Digging around the bathroom for her facial cleanser, she began to realize how much of a mess it still was in here. As she met the dark sunken eyes in the dingey mirror, she realized it could use a good cleaning too.

Hyeju found herself letting out a soft chuckle. Heejin was going to be spending the night in the beachside resort of her dreams on her dream honeymoon. Somewhere to put this place to shame. Of course, Heejin was one to deserve the best.

After a hot shower, Hyeju reached in the back of her closet for the most expensive piece of clothing she owned, a suit fit for the occasion. She’d always heard about women getting ready for wedding ceremonies with their closest friends, but she knew she was better off doing this alone today.

Buttoning every button and clasping every clasp, she couldn’t help but wonder what gorgeous dress she would find Heejin in. Perhaps it would be one she watched her save online years ago. Hyeju knew if she really wanted to know, Heejin would have been more than willing to tell her, but she was willing to wait for the surprise.

Although, maybe if Hyeju got to see it beforehand, she could orchestrate a better reaction when the time comes.

Before making her way out of her bedroom, she met her gaze once again in the full-body mirror on her door. Although every strand of hair was in its right place and the outfit was tailored to her body just right, something still felt off. She didn’t doubt that Heejin and any of their old friends would have compliments for how she looked regardless, but the anxious knots twisting and tightening in Hyeju’s core were about more than just appearance.

This was it. Before she knew it, she would see Heejin dressed and decorated like an angel at the end of the aisle. Before she knew it, they would be facing the beginning of the rest of their lives.

Today everything between them would be made real.

That constricting feeling made its way into Hyeju’s throat as her breath caught and trembled in her chest. Before a tear could form, she leapt for the doorknob and made her way out past the mirror and to the front door. She snatched up her keys and the crumpled cardstock form that contained the address of the ceremony venue.

She threw herself into the driver’s seat, and suddenly the vertigo and stomach pain came back to Hyeju with a greater intensity. However, she knew these ailments had no relation to how much she drank the night before.

She took a deep breath to ground herself, anchoring her fingers into the hair on the sides of her head. She didn’t need to worry about fucking up today. She wasn’t going to. She would get through it.

Of course, the thought that broke through the nausea and rapid breathing was another memory of her.

It was always her to Hyeju, wasn’t it?

“We can’t do this anymore.”

Heejin’s words echoed in Hyeju’s head, as if hearing them would be what convinced her it was real.

Heejin stared through the windshield, eyes wet, glossy, and red. Her lips quivered and her hands were clasped tight together in her lap, nails pressing into her own skin.

Hyeju was parked in the parking lot of Heejin’s apartment complex. She hoped one more evening together would stop Heejin from retreating and withdrawing like she had over the past few weeks. That it would stop her fake smiles and anxious habits. That Heejin would let Hyeju nurse and heal the doubts and fears that had been festering in her own heart.

But Heejin’s unwavering certainty—even through her trembling voice—left the two of them no choice but for this to be real.

Hyeju had once prided herself on always having a way with words when she needed to. Why was her head empty in a time like this? On second thought, no, it wasn’t empty, but rather too busy with “this can’t be happening” screaming over and over and over.

What is there left to say in a time like this, when ending things was never your idea to begin with? When the cute stubbornness that was once so charming manifests into this?

Hyeju was powerless watching as the unstoppable flood of HeeJin’s mind burst through wall after wall.

“Hyeju, I told you, my mom saw one picture of us, and you know what she said?” Her gaze stayed through the glass, her voice growing louder, more shrill, and more unsteady. “She knew the person she saw wasn’t her daughter, because her daughter loved her too much to do something like that. That girls who honor their parents, and were fucking sent to Catholic school, weren’t people like that.”

Her words were abruptly punctuated by guttural breaths as she continued, “I can’t- I’m not ready- I won’t be able to take that from them, Hyeju. I know they’ve cut off people before, but I didn’t think it could be me? I didn’t want to- I didn’t want to tell you this, but I asked them when I should come over for Chuseok this past year and they told me we weren’t meeting up as a family—being busy and all. But it was on her fucking Facebook—all of them—my parents and my sisters and my grandparents. They didn’t even let my sister tell me she got engaged!”

Heejin’s words stabbed at Hyeju, each syllable and every sob a new blow digging deeper and duller than the one before. What hurt most was knowing that the pain piercing into her was just a fraction of Heejin’s.

Hyeju opted for silence, though she wished she could dream up and cultivate a universe for just the two of them with no pain and no reason to hide. Maybe that’s what the sum of their moments together meant to Heejin, too.

Hyeju felt as though she blacked out when it was her turn to respond, disconnected from the unfolding scene as if it were some nightmarish phantom reality.

“I understand,” was the first phrase of acceptance from Hyeju. There was some form of “I’m sorry, for all of this.” What she was apologizing for, she didn’t know. With a curt nod and a poor attempt to force a smile, she assured something unpoetic like “thank you for the past two and a half years with me.”

Hyeju didn’t know how people healed from things like this, and always imagined their relationship was something more sacred—it wasn’t like those of other people. It wasn’t like those of other people, so it couldn’t end like those of other people.

At this point, Hyeju told herself that the heartbroken people before her could heal, surely she could too, and this hurt she felt would fade altogether for her too. After a few weeks or maybe months, the hurt would be over.

One of Heejin’s wavering hands snaked its way into Hyeju’s. The touch had always felt like home to her, but tonight it was deceptively soft and acutely corrosive. Heejin squeezed Hyeju’s fingers. Hyeju briefly caressed her hand with a swipe of thumb, with no intent but pained acknowledgement. If this was really happening—and it was— she knew better than to offer affection for the sake of her own heart.

“I don’t think there will ever be a part of me able to love somebody like I’ve loved you.” Heejin shook her head, offering a bittersweet smile. “You’ve meant the world to me now, and you might be a piece of my world forever.”

She continued. “I hope you find someone more deserving of someone like you soon.” Heejin scoffed, as if the mood had suddenly become lighter. “Hell, maybe invite me to your wedding.”

Hyeju wondered if, in another place in time, perhaps she could have been the family and the security and the affirmation that Heejin so desperately needed. Perhaps there was an alternate realm where these fears would have never crossed her mind.

But here they both were, in the stillness of an old sedan, living a secret moment to be witnessed by no one but the stars tonight. In the stifling silence between them was the truth: these were their last breaths shared together. When the right side door opened and closed, and a raw emptiness occupied the seat next to Hyeju, it would all be over.

Heejin hesitantly lifted her gaze to meet Hyeju’s. At one point, in a state of hurt, she would have pulled her partner into her embrace, wiped her tears, and held her until she forgot what was wrong. But that ache was all too evident right now.

Heejin leaned toward her, eyes fluttering shut. Hyeju turned her head regretfully, feeling the tenderness of Heejin’s lips on her jawline instead of her own. The sweetness was a seething pain.

“Thank you, Heejin,” Hyeju mustered. “But I think it’s best for you to go.”

She drove back that night with tears in her eyes and a ghost in the seat next to her that would follow her home.

WE ARE BLESSED TO INVITE YOU TO THE WEDDING OF

HEEJIN AND JINYOUNG

The words of the invitation still felt fake as Hyeju looked over the invitation yet again. The thin card felt impossibly heavy in her hand. After inputting the needed information into her GPS, she dropped the paper into the passenger seat as if it had a life of its own.

For a while now, Hyeju had known about him. Jinyoung. She was allowed to say his name, but somehow avoiding it made it seem more like an idea than a truth.

She just wasn’t ready—no, never could have prepared herself enough—for the possibility that there could be someone else defined in a way so formal and traditional and committal as this. In marriage.

Of course Heejin would be able to find someone else, that wasn’t the issue. But nothing described the defeat in knowing that someone else inherently possessed all the things you never could. Checked all the other boxes. Yielded a universal seal of approval.

Two years had passed since Heejin had broken their hearts together. Hyeju hoped that someone else could occupy her mind within another two years’ time.

#scrapped #shj #jhj #angst #loona

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