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“Miyoung-ah.” He said her name quietly, his hand moving down her neck. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t be sorry. We’re both sorry all the time. A sorry pair.” She chuckled. “I wish things could go back,” Miyoung said with a wistful sigh. “Can’t we just be Miyoung and Jihoon again? Can’t we be okay for five minutes?”

“I think I can do that.”

“Good.” She smiled sweetly. “Because I’m going to throw up.”

She ran to the edge of the playground and vomited in the underbrush.

Jihoon gathered her hair back and held it as she was sick.

•••

Jihoon carried Miyoung on his back up the sloping streets. Her arms and legs hung from him like vines, swinging back and forth as she drifted in and out of drunken consciousness.

“I’m sorry I sucked out your halmeoni’s gi,” Miyoung mumbled.

He tensed, unsure if he wanted to talk about that right now. Then he realized most of his anger had evaporated.

“I know how stubborn she can be. If she asked you to take her energy for me, then she probably made it impossible to say no.”

“I’m a horrible gumiho,” Miyoung muttered. “I couldn’t even say no to a halmeoni. Some immortal being I was.”

Jihoon chuckled.

Then he shifted to hitch her higher, thanking the stars when he saw his apartment across the street.

“I’m sorry I left,” she said. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“No one likes a martyr.”

He started up the stairs, his legs wobbling as he climbed.

“You know what I missed the most?” Miyoung whispered by his ear.

“What?” He tried to ignore the tingle along his skin as her breath fluttered over it.

“Being friends.”

“Huh?”

“You were my best friend.” She rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I miss my best friend.”

“I miss you, too,” he said, but she’d already fallen asleep.

61

MIYOUNG WONDERED IFsomeone’s brain had ever broken out of their skull. Because even as the fog of sleep still sat over her, she was sure this was going to happen to her. The pounding behind her eyes made it almost impossible to open them. And when she tried, she immediately shut them again with a moan.

“I see the alcoholic is awake,” Jihoon said from the bedroom doorway. “Oof, and you look awful.” He seemed particularly pleased about this fact.

Miyoung succeeded in opening only her right eye to glare at him. The sun blazed through the windows, exacerbating her headache.

“Haven’t you ever heard of curtains?” Her voice sounded like gravel scraping over a pumice stone.

“Yes, but I also don’t drink two bottles of soju by myself.”

“Was it only two bottles?” Miyoung mumbled, closing her eyes again and pulling up the covers. “I could’ve sworn it was a hundred.”