𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝔞 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶

« 🥀 » 𝐜𝚑. 7

-͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐞𝐭𝐡

(𝑛.) 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜, 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠; 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑖𝑎, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡. 

It happens just after she gets back from meeting with Ethan and his friend Samar.

Emma isn't in their dorm when she arrives, and Bomi recalls her friend saying she had extracurricular activities for extra credit today.

She's polishing her glasses when her phone blasts a song- her ringtone- and she hums as she picks it up.

It's her mom calling her.

"Yeoboseyo?" She says. "Eomma?"

"Bomi, how have you been?" Her mom says in Korean, voice slightly distorted from the phone.

"I've been good. Is everything alright over there?" Bomi asks, because her mom's voice is slightly off and hesitant.

Her mom seems to be careful in her words. "We're... quite fine, dear. But I do have some news for you."

There's a feeling of dread crawling up Bomi's insides. "What? What happened?"

Bomi's mom is silent for a moment. Bomi can hear her hesitation, her fruitless sighs audible through the phone.

"Eomma, what?" Bomi pleads as her mother stays silent.

"Your father's pay is decreasing," Her mother says finally. "I... I'm sorry, Bomi, you might have to come home."

The carpeted floor of her dorm room seems to sway under her feet. "But eomma- I've worked so hard for this and the scholarship, I..."

Her mother's voice seems ages older as she sighs into the phone. "It's only a 'might', Bomi. I'll do everything I can to make sure you can stay there. Don't worry, dear. We'll be fine."

"Surely you're not going to sacrifice your own comfort, right, eomma? Please don't. I'll come back to Korea if you do," Bomi tells her mother.

The words aren't empty. Bomi could go back to Seoul, try to get into a notable university. She'd be fine as long as her parents were, too.

"Alright," her mother says. "But Bomi, we'll be okay. It'll be okay."

Bomi repeats the words in her head as she hangs up and collapses on her bed.

We'll be okay. Eomma and appa will be okay. I'll be okay. We'll be okay.

There's something cold creeping up her spine like a shadow of ice despite the autumn night, and she squeezes her eyes shut as the world tilts and rocks and does nothing to make her believe they'll be okay.

Bomi knows Ethan is surprised when she shows up at the rooftop with a bird's nest of hair, her too-big shirt half-hanging off of her right shoulder, and her eyes swollen and teary with sleep deprivation. That's what she tells herself.

Ethan doesn't say anything when she curls into his side like a cat and hides her face behind the mess of dark hair that obscures her vision. All he does is stroke the exposed side of her cheek and press his lips against the top of her head over and over until she shifts and looks at him with red eyes and a sniffling nose.

"What's wrong?" He asks only then, and she answers truthfully. She tells him about how she might have to give up Heliotrope University and go back to Korea. She tells him how she tossed and turned last night because she didn't want to leave.

"I don't want to leave," she whispers. "I want to stay. Help me stay. With you."

She's not making sense, she knows, but she's sleep-deprived and stressed.

"I know, Bomi. I know, love." Ethan's soft baritone soothes.

Bomi sits up after a while, determined to stop being so pathetic. "I want a distraction. Where were we with your Korean?"

If Ethan thinks anything of her sudden willingness to teach him, he doesn't say anything.

"You were teaching me seasons," He says. "Winter was... gyeo-oo?"

"Gyeo-ool," Bomi corrects gently. "And go softer on the 'g' sound."

Ethan repeats it to himself carefully. She nods her satisfaction.

"Fall is ga-eul, like it is right now," She tells him. "And summer is yeo-reum."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Korean seasons are hard."

"We use a completely different set of letters, so yeah, probably." Bomi answers. "Spring is the easiest, though."

"Oh?" He asks, reaching out to brush her hair back.

"Yeah. It's bom."

"Like the bom in Bomi?" He wonders aloud.

"Yes, actually. My name means spring," She tells him, and he seems delighted.

"That's so cute, though! A beautiful name for a beautiful person." He grins.

Bomi laughs, and she feels much better. She thinks that maybe things are going to be okay.