#QUEENNIKKADAY | Inbox Outbox
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for #QUEENNIKKA who we would all be lost without
Yoona is the type of girl that floats through life. That is the best way Changmin has found to describe her. There is nothing that captures the essence of her existence more completely and accurately than the dispersion of dandelion seeds in the wind.
Changmin is on a family holiday in his early teenage years when they meet. She is the girl next door in the holiday house, and Changmin spots her the day they pull up in front of the beach house. And there she was, next door, sunglasses on, stretched out on the deckchair. The sun was fleeting, ducking behind wisps of cloud often, and still she lay, sundress fluttering in the breeze, warm sunshine on her face.
Changmin’s mother tells him to hurry and help them move the luggage in, so thirteen year old Changmin tears his gaze away from the pretty girl next door.
They meet the next day too.
Changmin is heading out in the earlier hours of the morning, when light filters through thin clouds in the distance. The ocean rumbles and crashes, muted by distance. Leaves rustle further away. Everything is as though it is a dream, muffled and intangible. He walks until concrete beneath his feet turns to sand, and if he squints and looks harder, there is a girl in a white dress, knee deep in the tide.
Changmin is not so sure how, but they eventually end up beside one another, separated by fifty metres of water and sand, and they share a long look. Their silence is broken when Yoona, bursting out into laughter, bends over and splashes Changmin with the saltwater. Thirteen-year old Changmin remembers this as though in slow motion, and is so stunned, he barely has time to lift his arm to block the spray.
The sun rises higher, and white light parts the clouds. And at the same time, Changmin is just thinking, oh my god, because nothing in his life could ever compare to this stranger of a beautiful girl. He almost forgets to splash her back, and they laugh, and try to run through the water.
Five minutes later, they are sitting on the wet sand, holding hands, while water laps at their heels.
“What’s your name?”
“Changmin.”
“I’m Yoona.”
They hold hands for a little longer, before Yoona stands and walks back to where she belongs.
Later, when Changmin is rinsing the sand off his clothes and out of his hair in the bathroom, he keeps thinking about Yoona. Will they meet again? It feels like a stupid time to be so concerned about a stranger. This is a family holiday, not the time to begin his teenage search for love.
Is this love?
Perhaps.
Changmin sees Yoona later that day on one of the benches beside the beach later in the day, with who he assumes is her mother. Changmin doesn’t intrude, but waits for her to appear the next morning.
The week passes so swiftly like a daydream, and Changmin barely gets a glimpse of Yoona again. When she does appear again, running up to their beach house door, Changmin can hardly believe his own eyes. She hands over a slip of paper, folded up into a triangle. “I thought we could keep in contact,” she says, “you seem nice.” She smiles at him and waves before she turns and runs next door.
Her email address is printed neatly on the page. He can feel the indentations her pen, pressed hard against paper, making purposeful and careful marks, and it is such a lovely thing to feel.
Changmin is rather at a loss about what to say to her though.
Two weeks later, they start exchanging long-winded emails. Yoona writes a lot of medium-sized sentences and organises them into neat paragraphs. She talks a lot about her dog, a corgi. She doesn’t go into detail about her friends, and simply refers to them on a first name basis. She does tell a lot of stories about them though, and asks Changmin about whether or not he finds these stories boring, or stupid, quite frequently. Changmin takes care to reassure her that he finds them amusing, and to continue if it’s what she wants to tell him about.
A few months later, Yoona says that she is moving houses, and together, they work out that they will be moving closer, and not further away.
Do you think this is fate?
Changmin shrugs to himself. Do you believe in fate?
A minute later, Yoona says, A little.
Their emails start to spread a little thin, when the school term begins again. Changmin finds there are a lot of distractions with school. There are girls that he has fleeting crushes on, arguments with friends take place. In between, they continue to exchange emails. In a few moments of great duress, Changmin had asked Yoona for advice. But aside from that, they continue to keep each other updated at a steady pace. Yoona's dog had an operation. Changmin’s science teacher doesn’t like him. Yoona discovers that she is below the recommended weight for blood donations - perhaps she can eat more and make the weight limit by the time she turns sixteen. Changmin emails Yoona, reminiscing about their meeting. He wants to know what she was thinking.
I’m not telling. Wouldn’t it cheapen it a little?
I guess so. Sorry, I was just curious.
Two years pass.
Should we try to meet in person?
Yoona takes a while to respond. I think I’d like to.
Fifteen year old Changmin doesn’t fully understand the significance of this moment. They rush to arrange a meeting. It is meant to be fleeting, maybe twenty minutes. They meet at a train station, and find each other in between the peak hour crowds.
Yoona is wearing black, blouse buttoned up right to the top of the collar, wearing a pleated skirt. Her hair is longer, and she is much taller than she used to be. She looks more like a woman than a girl, and Changmin’s heart may have literally skipped a beat. He is so nervous, so nervous he is positive his knees are shaking. He isn’t so sure about what it is that he’s worried about, but he is so, so relieved when Yoona smiles and pulls him into an embrace. “It’s so lovely to see you again.”
Changmin reciprocates, and murmurs, “Yes. Yes, it really is.” He feels as though his heart could leap out of his chest right now.
This has to be love, right?
They agree to meet again in a month’s time. This time, it is a weekend, and they agree to meet for lunch. Yoona is wearing a long-sleeve shirt with denim shorts this time. Her hair is in a ponytail. Changmin is surprised by how much she eats - they eat comparable amounts. Their two hours of conversation pass so quickly, Changmin feels so unwilling to leave. There is still so much to say, and email doesn’t nearly compare to speaking in person.
They don’t meet again for another six months.
Yoona does mail him a birthday card though.
With every month that passes, and every time Changmin glances at the birthday card still standing on his bookshelf, he thinks to himself - what will become of them? Will he never see her again? Will they grow apart? What kind of person will Yoona fall in love with? The questions pile up, and up, and every night, Changmin closes his eyes and buries these anxious thoughts in the darkness.
But he needn’t have worried, because the next time they finally arrange to cross one another’s paths in the humid summer, they talk just as much. It is in the afternoon, and the sky is purpling. Yoona’s hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She smiles a lot. There is a point in the conversation, when they are talking, sentences and exclamations filling the air between them. There is some laughter. Yoona drinks her frappe while she listens to Changmin. They look into each others’ eyes.
“Changmin.”
He raises his eyebrows, “Yes?”
“Do you like me?”
Just take the plunge. “Yes.”
“Not just as a friend though.”
They look at each other for a long time before bursting out into laughter.
“I love you.”
It is mutual.
I rarely write Changyoon, so when I do, it's pretty special. I've been feeling very cheesy and light-hearted lately, and I hope this lightens and warms the heart. To Nikka, with love!