Way home

- Lucky -

To my pollitas.

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Jiwon held the phone against her ear as she opened her suitcase for what felt like the hundredth time.

The clock had crept past midnight, but she was still stuck in the endless cycle of indecision, shuffling through clothes as if the perfect choice would suddenly appear.

“So…” she began, hesitating for just a second before plunging ahead, “I’m packing your shirt so I can feel like you’re with me while I’m away.”

On the other end, the silence lingered for just a beat too long, and her cheeks grew warm. She gripped the phone tighter, already regretting how vulnerable she’d sounded. But then Soohyun’s voice came through, warm and teasing.

“The beige one? Huh, I always thought you liked the blue one more.”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t start. You know exactly which one I’m taking. Besides, the blue one doesn’t smell like you. This is strictly emotional, okay?”

“Emotional?” he echoed with a low chuckle. “I’d call it strategic. Now I have the perfect excuse to see you as soon as you’re back. I mean, I can’t just let you keep my shirt forever.”

“Who said I was planning to give it back?” she shot back, flopping onto the edge of her bed. “It’s comfy, smells nice, and—well—why should I deprive myself of that?”

“Sounds like I should start charging rent for it,” he teased, the humor in his tone making her chest ache in that bittersweet way it always did when she thought about him.

“Ha, good luck collecting,” she said with a smirk. “You’d probably forget about it anyway. You’re not exactly known for following through, remember?”

“That’s rich coming from someone who always forgets where she puts her keys,” he countered smoothly.

“Low blow,” she said, laughing despite herself.

“Jiwon… you know you don’t need the shirt to feel like I’m there, right?” His voice softened, dropping the playful edge. The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. “I know,” she said finally, her voice quieter. “But it helps.”

“Then I guess that shirt is luckier than I am,” he added with a grin she could almost hear through the phone.

“Ha, sure,” she said, unable to hide her smile.

“Well, in that case, you can have it,” he said, then quickly added, “But don’t get too attached. I’ll need it back eventually. I’m not made of shirts, you know.”

“Oh, please,” she said, the warmth returning to her voice. “You probably have, like, ten others that look exactly the same. You won’t even notice it’s gone.”

“Maybe. But if I let you take this one, I’ll need to keep something of yours. Fair’s fair.”

She raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice taking on that dangerously charming tone she loved and hated. “Maybe your scarf. Or your favorite pair of earrings. Or…” he paused, letting the moment stretch out. “Your heart.”

She groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “Oh my God, you did not just say that.”

“What? Too much?”

“Way too much,” she said, covering her face with her free hand to hide her smile, even though he couldn’t see her. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still on the phone with me,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, well… maybe I like impossible,” she admitted, her voice dropping to a softer tone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them warm and unspoken words filling the space. She could almost picture him sitting in his room, probably leaning back in that old chair of his, smiling that small, private smile he always had when he was trying not to let on how much he cared.

“So,” he said at last, breaking the quiet, “does this mean you’re going to start traveling with my entire wardrobe? Should I be worried?”

“Oh, definitely,” she said with a laugh, sitting up and tucking the shirt neatly into her suitcase. “Next time, I’m taking your hoodie too.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Too late,” she teased, leaning back against the pillows with a grin.

“Goodnight, Soohyun.”
“Goodnight, Love. Dream of me, okay?”

She rolled her eyes again, but her smile lingered long after she ended the call, the sound of his voice still echoing in her mind as she drifted to sleep.

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I always tell myself I won’t write about them again. At this point, everything has already been said.
But then a conversation with a friend happens, and they inspire me to write once more.

There won’t be a follow-up. Not for now, at least.

So, thank you again if you’ve made it this far. Feel free to leave a comment if you enjoyed it. Because, as always, I had a great time writing about them.
Bisous !