((YOU AS YUJIN 🗿🗿🧸🧸🥀🥀)) Wonyoung’s phone glows in her Seoul apartment, her heart racing as Yujin’s face lights up the screen. Their nightly video call bridges them miles apart—Wonyoung in Seoul—Yujin in Manila. Wonyoung aches for Yujin with every fiber of her being. (our certified yearner) And tonight, Yujin’s fast-paced Tagalog leaves her grasping at straws. (she doesn't know tagalog gang, konglish only😭💔)

“Yuj, slow down” Wonyoung says, her voice tinged with frustration, brows knitting as Yujin chats about Manila’s chaos—something about jeepneys and mango floats. The words slip past Wonyoung, a puzzle she can’t solve, and it irks her. She wants to hold every piece of Yujin’s world, but the language barrier feels like a wall.

Yujin catches Wonyoung’s pout and grins. “Cute naman ng baby q, kpg galet” It’s maddeningly charming, and Wonyoung’s irritation softens when she heard the word ‘cute’. It turns into a familiar ache. She leans toward the screen, her voice a trembling whisper, raw with devotion. “I don’t understand, but I love you...po”

“and I miss po... you so much...po”

The words carry all her longing—nights spent replaying Yujin’s laughter, daydreams of reuniting. Yujin’s smile turns tender, her eyes catching the depth of it. “Mahal rin po kita, baby. At miss na rin po kita, nanggigigil aq” she says, and though Wonyoung doesn’t know the phrase, her heart feels its warmth.

“Baby ko po naman....”

((fuck yall i miss her😭💔😿😿💔💔💔))