XII.

Irene was sure that Wendy would concede. She was definitely sure that Wendy would stay because she kissed back. Irene felt Wendy’s lips move along with Irene’s lips, slightly out of rhythm, but still a movement to be considered. Irene felt the tingles, the cascading rush of serotonin through her veins, filling her up to the brim until she couldn’t hold it anymore, until she had to break out of the kiss to breathe, to steady herself.

What she didn’t expect was what came next.

“Well… Seulgi… she told me to try,” words breathed out by an already breathless Irene.

And then an “Ouch!”

Owowowow. Wendy had kicked Irene’s shin. A lot of force and strength for a midget of a body.

Irene clutched her shin, trying to soothe the pain, while hopping on her other fine leg to keep her balance. “W-W-Why did you do that?!”

Wendy scoffed. Irene wasn’t her boss anymore. Despite the lusciousness of Irene’s lips, of how electrifying it was, tasting those scrumptious marshmallow heavenly goodness, Wendy’s lips were Wendy’s property. It didn’t give Irene the right to just take kisses from Wendy. It didn’t give Irene the right to do whatever she just wanted.

“Ms. Bae—no—Bae Irene, don’t think that kisses solve everything,” Wendy said. She, herself knew that she sounded harsh, peeved off by an insensitive, kiss-stealer, Irene. But she had to stay adamant. This wasn’t the Joohyun Wendy had a crush on before. This person… this person… despite looking the same was someone else. A conceited version of Joohyun. Wendy crossed her arms and stomped off, far away from the kiss-stealer.

Irene could hear Seulgi exclaiming, “Well done, Wendy!” followed by a chuckle and some clapping. Whose side was Seulgi really on?

“Don’t you dare follow me,” Wendy warned.

“B-But, I felt it! Y-You kissed me back!” Irene shouted. She then turned to her friend for help. “She kissed me back, Seulgi!”

“Did she now, Irene? I think by the looks of it…” Seulgi walked over and patted her friend’s shoulder, “you’ve just gotten rejected.”

Irene hopped with her fine leg, like a little rabbit—just with one working leg, as bizarre as that may sound—towards the violent yet still very cute Wendy. “W-Wait, Wendy, don’t go.”

But Wendy kept on walking. She kept on walking, not even glancing back at the hopping bunny that followed her.

“I said, don’t gooo,” Irene pleaded. A multibillionaire fashion icon pleading, chasing someone. That someone being her employee, her personal assistant.

What is wrong with you, Irene? Where has your dignity gone?

Dignity? There’s no such thing when it comes to Wendy.

Wendy? What’s so good about Wendy?

What’s so good?! Look at her! She’s just… she’s just perfection! She’s so cute even when she’s mad. How to live? How to live without Wendy?

You’re blinded. Blinded by infatuation. Like a fool. You’re going to get hurt.

Does it matter? Does it really matter? All I want to do now is to just be with her, make her happy, make her feel special.

You’re going to regret this. I’m telling you.

Come nag me when I have regretted it. But for now can you please shut up?

Ugh. Stupid thoughts. Stupid brain. There was no rational thinking when one’s heart would beat all erratically, desperately demanding for that one special person.

Irene really wanted to sound stern, authoritative when she asked Wendy to not leave, just like back then, a few weeks ago, before Korea, before she had started to like Wendy. But it was completely impossible. Irene’s voice came off clingier and—dare she thought it—cute. The heart wanted what it want.

Irene had managed to catch up after a few hops, holding onto Wendy’s wrist and pulling her back, turning her around. Irene’s hand, as silly as it might seem, automatically moved down to hold Wendy’s hand. Wendy tried to break off the hold but Irene held Wendy’s hand firmly. You are not gonna go anywhere.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Irene asked.

Wendy rolled her eyes. Irene was really not getting it. “Let me go.”

“I know you liked the kiss. Why else would you kiss back? Stop being difficult, will you?”

How did the whole thing ended up just being about the kiss? Why did Irene only just speak of kisses but never about the actual problem? “So what? What if I kissed back? It’s b-body reflex! What about it? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t?” Irene sounded glum, as if a dark cloud had just covered the spark of happiness that was tingling inside of her, like a fire being put out by an endless downpour of rain. “You didn’t feel anything?”

Of course Wendy did. She felt the rush of electricity that tickled her spine and turned her ears bright red and made her knees all weak and incapable of doing their job. But she couldn’t say that. Not to this fickle Irene who had just fired her after snatching her first kiss. “You fired me, Irene. Last night. Why are you here? Chasing after me? You fired me. You. After kissing me without my consent just like now. Why did you do that? What are you really after? My lips? Only my lips? Why do you keep kissing me? Just why are you being like this? Why are you here, holding my hand, and—and—and confusing me? Let me go now.”

Irene didn’t let go when Wendy tried to pull her hand away. She stayed firm, serious. Serious about her feelings, about Wendy. It was now or never. “What do you mean why? Because I like you, you idiot!”

Wendy blinked. “Pardon?”

“You heard me! I like you. I’ve fallen for you hard. Like crazy. I’ve gone crazy, really. Falling for a woman. Hah! I thought I was straight. I thought I liked guys and that I’ll end up with a husband and live that way, just like most of the women in this world. But you came into my life and you confused me. You, Son Wendy. I’ve gone crazy for you. You’re always on my mind, always making it hard for me to sleep, always making it difficult for me to concentrate on my work, on my day. I’m a very busy person, you know? I’m the owner of the world’s leading fashion brand. But here I am, holding your hand, trying to