PROMISE

The air grew heavier with each passing second under the judgmental gaze of the shopgirl. Her subtle eye rolls, each time Jiwoo handed her another lavish garment, seemed to go unnoticed by everyone but Mi Haneul. Since arriving in Korea with Jiwoo, Haneul had kept to her shy, introverted nature. Yet, something about the girl in her polished work attire radiated irritation, tempting Haneul to rip off those artificial lashes, despite knowing her attitude might be justified after the scene they had caused earlier.

Haneul was busy slipping into and trying on a pile of dresses chosen by Jiwoo when the latter discreetly snuck in to fulfill one of her many secret desires. A sly seductress, Jiwoo had mastered the art of sweet-talking, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief as soon as she broke the rules of privacy and cornered Haneul. She couldn't help but feel a wave of warmth between her legs the moment Jiwoo's cold finger traced around her panties, sliding the soft fabric down her milky skin and onto the floor.

At first, Haneul hummed contentedly in rhythm with her heartbeat, relishing the sensation of Jiwoo's soft lips teasing her throbbing clit, followed by a gentle lick. But when she felt two fingers slipping inside her, her gaze instinctively fixed on the ceiling as she bit down on her lips, holding back the moans threatening to escape. Her hands rested quietly by her sides as Jiwoo's knuckles repeatedly stroked the insides of her curved walls, establishing a steady in-and-out motion. Jiwoo's slick tongue vigorously explored her sensitive nub, moving up and down, back and forth, and in circular motions. The roughness of each sensation dangerously tugged at the knot building in Haneul's lower abdomen.

Haneul remained perfectly still and silent though, her breathing even as she felt herself being brought to the edge by the lapping and caresses. But when the fingers, that had previously explored her dripping mound, were replaced by a hot, eager tongue seeking to taste her sweet arousal, a sudden squeal escaped her.

Disappointed, she felt a cool breeze against her heated core as she noticed that the owner of the mouth she longed for was not focused on her, but instead staring slack-jawed at the door, where a worker seemed to be knocking.

"Is everything alright, Ma'am?" a feminine voice inquired.

The two girls exchanged glances, their raised eyebrows communicating silent concerns. One questioned, "What should we do?" while the other, with a hint of frustration, wondered, "What about my climax?"

Haneul might have received a sardonic comment from Jiwoo if not for the persistent knocking on the door, which had already spoiled their moment of intimacy. Determined not to endure the annoying sound any longer, Jiwoo quickly helped Haneul pull on her underwear, which had been hanging around her ankles, and then stomped toward the door, remembering to wipe the remnants of Haneul's essence from her face just before throwing it open.

"Ma'am—"

"What?"

The plum-haired shopgirl was momentarily taken aback by the unexpectedly harsh tone. Despite her irritation, she adhered to her professional standards, greeting the customers with a warm smile as required by her job and offering assistance with any issues they might have. She curved her raspberry-tinted lips into a pleasant smile and said in a soothing tone, "I came in response to the noise coming from this room. Is there a problem?"

"Yes. I was helping my friend try on a dress that didn't quite fit her, and she yelped when it got stuck. Could you bring us a larger size of that outfit?" Jiwoo pointed as the lie slipped out of her effortlessly, and while Haneul could have confessed that this was indeed what happened, the person receiving the explanation wore an incredulous expression as they examined the loose T-shirt dress Haneul was wearing.

"Are you certain, Ma'am? This garment comes in a free size that should fit anyone slender like her." The quick-witted remark clearly caught the sly vixen off guard, leaving Jiwoo wide-eyed and struggling to find her words.

"Could you take these to the check-out counter? I'd like to pay for them all," Haneul said, pointing to the bundle of clothes after a moment of silence from her 'friend.' "I'll give this one back after changing. Excuse me."

"Sure." The shopgirl complied promptly, bending down to pick up the clothes.

When Haneul returned, she saw another pair of hands-the ones she had held countless times-quietly assisting the shopgirl. But as she approached to hand over her dress, the shopgirl took it with visible reluctance, a hint of disgust in her expression as she noticed the lingering smell of sex coming from the fabric. In that moment, Haneul realized that they weren't the only ones aware of their brief sexual encounter.

"There you are!" The sharp, irritable tone made Haneul flinch as she turned to see an elderly woman striding toward her. The clicking of flashy stilettos stopped an arm's length away, and the woman's wrinkled eyes shot an accusing glance at the person now collecting glossy paper bags from the counter. "How could you leave me with Mrs. Lee, Jiwoo? You know full well that a conversation with her can drag on forever."

"I thought you liked her company, Mom," Jiwoo replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"God, no! Her gossip about half of Seoul nearly drove me mad." The clear irritation in the sixty-seven-year-old's voice made her daughter giggle. But the giggles faded into a knowing smile when her mother asked, "By the way, what are you doing here? You said you needed to find a restroom."

"Oh, I did. But then I decided to stay with Haneul. She's in a foreign place, and I don't want to leave her alone. What kind of friend would that make me?"

There was that word again—friend. Haneul shook her head slightly, dismissing the idea as Jiwoo gave her a casual shrug and glance.

"You're right. So, how did it go, Haneul? Did you enjoy shopping in our country?" Jiwoo's mother asked Haneul, her interest clearly piqued, the pride of patriotism glowing in her tone. "I know Korea is much smaller than Australia, but don't underestimate it, dear. Ours is a remarkable nation with amazing people."

Haneul caught a glimpse of Jiwoo's smug smirk at the word "fun" from the corner of her eye, but she chose to ignore her and respond to the sweet woman instead.

"It was great, Mrs. Jung, thanks for asking. Honestly, I'm starting to think I should settle here, because I love it that much."

"Oh, that would be wonderful! You could make such a lovely bridesmaid at Jiwoo's wedding," Mrs. Jung exclaimed, beaming with excitement at the thought of her daughter getting married. She clasped her hands over her heart, her eyes sparkling-a stark contrast to the wide-eyed shock of the two others, especially Haneul.

It felt as if a monster truck had run over Haneul a thousand times, its tires screeching in her ears, reminding her of her fate. Watching the person she loved drift further out of reach would be inevitable if she didn't claim what was rightfully hers. Every time she heard the word "friend," it felt like a cautionary yellow light. But being cast as the maid of honor? That was a blazing red warning.

When neither of them responded, Mrs. Jung misread their shocked expressions and quickly bit her tongue, realizing she might have said something they weren't meant to know yet. Forcing out a laugh, she added, "I mean, in the future! I guess I'm just impatient to see my daughter in a wedding dress after hearing Mrs. Lee brag about hers. Forgive me if I made you both uncomfortable."

"It's fine, Mom. We didn't take it that way," Jiwoo replied.

Did we? Or was it just you, Jiwoo? Haneul thought as she felt a wave of disappointment wash over her, her mind too preoccupied to follow Mrs. Jung's chatter about New Year's celebration or leaving before dusk. Instead, her focus was drawn to the ring on her finger—a platinum band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond, gleaming softly like a star. She vividly remembered when that particular ring became more than just a piece of jewelry to her.

It was during their convocation ceremony, when students and friends celebrated graduation by getting drunk at a late-night club in Melbourne. She and Jiwoo had been sitting in a corner, sipping drinks and laughing at the slurred rants of their peers, who vented years of pent-up frustration toward their professors. Maybe it was the alcohol that made her feel lightheaded, swaying with the music, or perhaps it was the magnetic pull toward a familiar mouth that drowned out the noise around them, clouding her senses. She couldn't quite tell. All she knew was the taste of bitter drinks mixing together in a heated tangle of tongues, as the world blurred away.

"You're mine, and I'm yours." Jiwoo's words lingered above Haneul's lips, and the cool metal that slid onto her ring finger sent shivers down her spine.

"Forever?" Haneul whispered.

"Forever," Jiwoo promised.

The vividness of the memory grew hazy as Haneul glanced at another hand, now wearing the same ring, gently squeezing her palm. Blinking away the tiny tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, she looked at the woman she had fallen so deeply for.

"I belong with you, don't worry," Jiwoo mouthed with quiet confidence. She subtly pursed her lips, blowing a secret kiss only for the love of her life, ensuring no one else could detect her affection.

The small gesture brought a soft, affectionate smile to Haneul's face, making her want to pull Jiwoo into her arms and kiss her for real, without caring what anyone might think. But she also craved more, wanting to pick up where they'd last left off. So she held back the urge, waiting for the moment when they'd be home, alone, and undisturbed.

Still, as if fate had conspired against her, the drive back crawled at a snail's pace. The awkward dinner with the Jungs felt endless, wrapped in an oppressive silence where not even a cough or a burp broke the tension. Later, when Mr. Jung held Jiwoo for a moment before she informed her parents about her plan to stay with Haneul to watch a movie, something about the exchange made Haneul's stomach twist with unease.

Jiwoo had explained her family's inherited line of work, but Haneul found it hard to believe that Mr. Jung wasn't a dictator but rather a director of various organizations. His rigid, militaristic ethical rules seemed out of place for an entrepreneur. He prioritized his own preferences above everyone else's and left no room for differing opinions, firmly believing his choices were always superior. Haneul respected his dignity as a father, but she couldn't ignore the fact that she couldn't blindly agree to his terms as the rest of his family seemed to. Well, except for his second child, who had abandoned the family's wealth to pursue his own dreams.

Mr. Jung openly raged about how his son was a disgrace, shaming the family's name. He even called Jiwoo one summer, early in their relationship, to help "knock some sense" into her younger brother. The argument between father and son had grown so intense that even Jiwoo's calm composure failed to ease their mutual resentment. Meanwhile, her mother, who had quietly wept in the background throughout the dispute, broke into uncontrollable sobs the moment Mr. Jung disowned his son and severed all ties with him for what he believed to be the betterment of their family.

When Haneul first heard about it, she sympathized with Jiwoo's brother, whom she had never met. But now, she wondered if his defiance would affect her own relationship with Jiwoo. Mr. Jung had shown his temper before, and no matter how harsh he could be, Haneul dreaded the thought of receiving spite instead of well wishes when they eventually approached him as a couple, not just college friends.

"What's going on up here, huh?" A gentle flick on her forehead brought her drifting thoughts back to Jiwoo.

Haneul's eyes lingered on Jiwoo's pale skin, which seemed to glow softly in the shifting light of the movie neither of them was paying attention to. Without thinking, she reached out and gently caressed Jiwoo's beautiful face, as if to remind herself that this ethereal beauty was hers and no one else's.

"What did your dad want to talk to you about?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Jiwoo murmured, closing the small distance between them and brushing her lips against Haneul's.

"Anything that concerns you, good or bad, is my concern too. What did he say?" Haneul's voice was calm, but the look in her eyes made it clear that keeping things from her would hurt more than anything Jiwoo's father might have said.

"He wants me to stay here. . ." Jiwoo trailed off with a sigh, watching closely for Haneul's reaction. "Permanently. He said I've spent enough time in Australia, and it's time for me to move back." As expected, dismay and uncertainty were written all over Haneul's delicate features.

"Jiwoo—"

"I know, Han. It's killing me too." Jiwoo leaned over and quieted the growing insecurities swirling inside Haneul, comforting her with a gentle hush. "I'll tell him about us tomorrow, I promise." Jiwoo leaned in, capturing Haneul's bottom lip between her teeth, gently biting until the tension melted away, replaced by a soft moan.

"Jiwoo," Haneul breathed, her name slipping out in another moan as she surrendered to Jiwoo's touch. "You still owe me an orgasm from this morning."