“Are you sure we’re doing this right?” Byulyi glanced at a cylindrical glass tube that Wheein was holding. A bright green liquid was filling half of the tube after Wheein dropped an unknown chemical substance inside. That day, they were having a project together in the lab. Something about chemical reaction. Byulyi was sure their current tube was showing a chemical reaction indeed. But she had looked around the lab and every other student had their tube filled with blood red liquid. Definitely not green.
“Is the result supposed to be green?” Byulyi asked again, now checking her textbook that was previously neglected on the table.
Wheein let out a satisfied hum, carefully examining whatever chemical substance she had produced.
“Maybe not.” She replied. “What is it supposed to be?”
Byulyi took a look at the green substance. She decided the color was actually nice to look at, especially under the light.
“I don’t know… But everyone else has theirs in red.”
Wheein walked toward the corner of the lab and came back with a little round sponge and then placed it at the top of the tube, just enough to fit as a lid.
“What do you think the color red means?” Wheein had asked Byulyi.
She didn’t know.
“Err… Love? People color hearts in red.”
“It also could be violence… Something creepy. Like the blood?”
Byulyi had never known any actual meaning of colors. She could only associate things and the colors they had and she wondered if Wheein, whose world was defined by colors, actually knew what they meant. Maybe Byulyi could ask her about it later.
“Love is not red, Byul.” Wheein said, voice softer than she expected it to be.
“Heat is red. Passion is red. But love, is not red.”
Wheein handed the glass tube, filled with bright green liquid, to Byulyi.
“Love is green.”
Byulyi had taken Wheein to their old high school, where everything had begun for the both of them. It was summer holiday and the school was not supposed to be opened, but Byulyi’s years of maintaining good acquaintanceship with the school’s guard — and also the principal, some old teachers, canteen’s owner, and almost everyone who worked there — paid off. He was more than glad to let the two alumni in and even handed the keys to Byulyi.
That was one thing Wheein had always envied — or likely, adored — from Byulyi. Not how she could easily gain access to the school she didn’t even attend anymore, but how she was always genuine to people around her. People who might seem trivial, but that was just Byulyi. That was just how she was so easily loved.
And that was probably why Wheein adored the blonde-haired girl who was sitting down on the chemistry lab’s table, eyes scanning the room and legs crossed. Byulyi was so easily loved and Wheein was exactly the opposite. She tended to seclude herself in her personal bubble, only allowing very few people in. She had gotten used to the cold that sometimes, Byulyi’s warmth made her shiver.
“Do you remember that time when we failed the lab project?” Byulyi asked, eyes slowly moving from the shelves of tubes and cups to find Wheein’s.
“Whatever substance you made that day, it lasted longer than I expected.”
Wheein only stared at Byulyi, not replying anything. Without Byulyi telling her, she knew she would have still kept the green liquid Wheein had given her that day. She knew that Byulyi would always keep her love. On the top of her bookshelf. In her life.
Wheein wondered if she had ever left at all.