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They say time heals all wounds.
But in high school, time moves slower. Heartbreaks stretch longer. Regret tastes sharper.
Kim Yooyeon never thought she’d be that girl—the one who let something so good slip through her fingers. But she was. And for months, she carried that regret like an extra subject on her schedule: a constant reminder that she failed something she didn’t even know she was taking a test on.
Yoon Seoyeon.
The girl with the quiet confidence, with the best grades in their year, who never cried in public and never let her ponytail fall out of place. The girl who showed Yooyeon how it felt to be truly seen.
And the girl Yooyeon walked away from when it mattered most.
But now? She was going to win her back.
Even if it meant showing up in the pouring rain. Even if it meant saying the words she should’ve said back then.
Because that’s how you get the girl.
It started in spring.
Yooyeon didn’t even like study groups. She thought they were just an excuse for smart people to show off and everyone else to nod along and pretend they understood derivatives.
But Seoyeon was different.
In their old shared study group, she didn’t show off—she helped. Her explanations made sense. She never rolled her eyes when Yooyeon got something wrong, and she always made sure to slide over an extra highlighter when Yooyeon forgot hers. Pink, always.
It started with those moments. Quiet ones.
Then came the coffees Seoyeon would bring with her—always a second one for Yooyeon.
“Accidentally ordered two,” she’d say, not meeting her eyes.
Lies. Sweet ones.
Yooyeon started pretending she liked black coffee just to drink it with her.
They grew close. People started to notice.
“You guys are kinda cute together,” Jiwoo teased once.
Yooyeon didn’t deny it.
She should have said something then. Should have asked Seoyeon out when the tension between them finally hummed like a song only they could hear.
But she hesitated. One foot in, one foot out.
And just like that, Seoyeon slipped away.
Yooyeon didn’t know what went wrong, only that she didn’t do enough to make it go right.
She didn’t text back quickly enough. She bailed on a movie night with no explanation. She panicked when Seoyeon hinted at wanting more.
So Seoyeon stopped hinting.
Then stopped trying.
Then stopped showing up entirely.
The last time they spoke was in front of the school gates.
“I liked you, you know,” Seoyeon had said, voice quiet.
Yooyeon blinked. “Had.”
“Yeah,” Seoyeon said. “Had.”
She walked away before Yooyeon could say anything else.
Yooyeon didn’t run after her.
She didn’t say what she should’ve:
“I like you too.”
“I was scared.”
“Please don’t go.”
And that’s how it ended.
Months passed. Yooyeon dated someone else briefly—someone who liked selfies and hated science.
It didn’t last.
She tried pretending she was fine. That Seoyeon had been a phase. A weird, quiet chapter in her life that closed too quickly.
But every time she passed the library, or saw pink highlighters, or drank black coffee—she thought of her.
Then came the rumors.
“She’s dating again,” someone whispered.
“With who?”
“Some guy from Class 3-3.”
It shouldn’t have stung. But it did.
Yooyeon had lost her chance.
Or so she thought.
It was raining.
Of course it was raining.
Yooyeon stood outside the small café downtown, drenched, nervous, holding a pink umbrella she borrowed from Jiwoo.
Inside, Seoyeon was already seated. Alone. A cup of tea steaming in front of her.
She looked like a scene from a drama: elegant, quiet, unreadable.
Yooyeon pushed the door open. The bell above jingled. Seoyeon looked up.
Their eyes met for the first time in months.
Yooyeon walked over slowly, hands slightly shaking.
“I heard you like rainy days,” she said, trying to smile.
Seoyeon raised a brow. “I do. They keep people away.”
Yooyeon winced. “Ouch.”
Silence.
Then Seoyeon sighed and nodded to the seat across from her. “Sit. Before you drown.”
Yooyeon sat.
This was it. Her second chance.
And it was a Thursday.
Yooyeon cleared her throat. “I know I don’t deserve this. But I’m here anyway.”
Seoyeon sipped her tea.
“I was scared back then,” Yooyeon admitted. “You were… you are amazing. And I didn’t know how to handle it.”
Seoyeon stayed quiet.
Yooyeon pressed on. “I messed up. I should’ve said something. Anything. But I didn’t. And I regretted it. Every single day.”
Seoyeon set her cup down.
“You think a rainy day speech fixes everything?”
“No,” Yooyeon said immediately. “But it’s a start.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out something small.
A pink highlighter.
Seoyeon blinked.
“I kept it,” Yooyeon said softly. “From that day in the library.”
Seoyeon stared at it. “That was months ago.”
“I know. But I still remember.”
Another silence. Softer, this time.
“I don’t expect anything,” Yooyeon whispered. “I just wanted you to know.”
Seoyeon looked at her for a long, long moment.
Then—finally—she smiled.
“You’re lucky I like sappy confessions.”
They didn’t become a couple instantly.
It started with text messages. Then coffee again. Then studying together, like old times—but with more smiling now, more brushing hands on purpose.
Yooyeon walked Seoyeon home in the rain one day. No umbrella.
“You’re going to get sick,” Seoyeon scolded, but her fingers laced with Yooyeon’s as they walked.
When Yooyeon made her laugh during math class, Seoyeon didn’t hide it this time.
It was slow. Sweet. Real.
And on a quiet Friday night, under the flicker of library lights, Yooyeon finally said, “Can I call you mine now?”
Seoyeon rolled her eyes. “Took you long enough.”
Yooyeon grinned. “That’s how you get the girl, right?”
Seoyeon leaned in, soft and sure. “That’s how you get this girl.”
They lasted through the semester. Then through finals. Then through summer.
Because when love comes around a second time—you don’t let it slip.
Yooyeon still kept that pink highlighter.
And every Thursday, rain or shine, they met at the same café.
Just in case.