“I’m going to Seoul at the end of the month.”
“Work. 또 만나서? 하지만 밤에만.”
“Your Korean sucks.”
“I try, asshole. Okay?”
“Okay. Tell me why you’re texting me at 330am when we meet.”
I don’t think I expected a reply at 430am KST, but it was not unsurprising. Maybe it’s a whinge of guilt but I slipped my phone back under our pillow and I went back to staring at the back of your head. And for a moment, despite being mere inches away, it felt like a gulf between us. I threw my hand over your torso and pulled myself closer into your back for a bit of warmth. I was sure we’re something, but I know we’re not anything either.