AN: In the spirit of the holidays! Enjoy!

The remainder of the year flies by so fast that Seulgi can hardly comprehend it. She figures that it probably has something to do with a certain writer occupying the other half of her apartment— truth be told, though, most nights usually go with only one bedroom being occupied, with Irene preferring to sleep while snuggled up in Seulgi’s arms anyways.

But in short, yeah, Irene makes her world go ‘round. There have been highs, and there have been lows, but in the months that they’ve been together, Seulgi still finds herself falling in love with Irene every single day— she’s yet to find a reason to stop, and it’s more than enough to keep them going strong.

And it’s moments like these when Seulgi feels her heart squeeze in the most delightful of ways when, from a few steps away, she watches Irene stare up at the sky in pure awe at the sight of the first snow dancing down from the clouds.

“Seulgi,” Irene exclaims, her voice rising in pitch, having paused in their walk through the park to simply tilt her head up and stare. “Seulgi, it’s snowing!”

“It is!” Seulgi laughs, closing the distance between their bodies and crashing into Irene’s small frame. Irene giggles as Seulgi draws her into a tight embrace, the taller girl’s arms wrapping themselves around Irene’s torso, her face coming to bury itself in the writer’s hair, and the rest of her body simply molding itself against Irene, like they’d been made for each other. “We’re seeing the first snow together, Hyun!”

“We are,” the older girl breathes, succumbing into Seulgi’s hold, letting herself drown in the warmth there. “You know what they say about people who see the first snow together, Seul? About how they’ll be spending the rest of their lives together?”

“I guess you’re stuck with me then,” Seulgi chuckles, nuzzling into Irene’s soft hair. “Get ready to play all of the video games, Hyun, ‘cause you’ve gotta deal with this addict!”

Irene is sent into another fit of giggles, twisting around in Seulgi’s hold and pushing herself up on her tiptoes (curse Seulgi for wearing heeled boots today). Their lips mold together, and Seulgi smiles into the kiss as she lightly bumps Irene’s forehead and they softly heads like cats.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Irene murmurs after they’ve broken apart for air. “I love you, Seul.”

Seulgi beams back at her. “I love you too, Hyun.”

—

“Since when did it become December?” Yoojung bursts out one day in the dance studio, as she and Seulgi go over lesson plans for the rest of the month. The older dance instructor gapes at the calendar on studio’s office wall, looking almost offended at the word ‘DECEMBER’ written in red block letters. She shakes her head. “I swear, the year went by way too fast.”

Seulgi snickers. “You’re just shocked that your deadline for that idol group’s choreo is due sooner than you remembered.”

“Excuse you,” Yoojung points accusingly at Seulgi, “I actually have the choreo down, thank you very much. I’m more worried about the annual Secret Santa gift swap that we somehow always end up doing. I overheard our boss say that the meeting scheduled for later today is actually when we’ll be drawing names for our targets this year.”

“I mean,” Seulgi shrugs, her mind wandering off to the founder of their studio. “Lia Kim-sunbaenim is a very persuasive woman... well, that, and I get the feeling that I might get fired if I try to refuse taking part.”

“It’s a scary few weeks leading up the big holiday party and the gift swap,” Yoojung agrees, and Seulgi remembers the way that she’d been frantically running all around Seoul in an attempt to get one of the more senior instructors the exact gift she’d asked for (Seulgi had truly been out of ideas).

“I got Joo Yuri-sunbaenim last year,” Seulgi recalls. She’d been completely shocked when she had pulled out and unraveled the small piece of white paper with the senior back-up dancer’s name scrawled onto it. Five minutes later, and Seulgi had been stumped— she loved Yuri with all her heart, but she’d drawn a blank when it came to actually thinking of what present to give.

The young choreographer shakes her head with a sigh. “Watch me get another difficult person this year.”

Yoojung only makes a noise of agreement. “You sure do have bad luck, Seul. At least you’re not me, who got our one and only boss, Miss Lia Kim, last year, and the year before that. It wasn’t hard to get her a gift, but she must be tired of seeing my face attached to the present she receives.”

“What do you think has the higher odds: me getting someone someone difficult to gift, or you getting Lia Kim as your target for the third year in a row?” Seulgi jokes, only to wish that she could take her words back a second later, when she sees the way that her best friend’s eyes light up.

“Let’s make a bet.”

Seulgi groans. “Oh god, not this type of thing! It’s like you naming our dance squad ‘Seulgi and the Bedwarmers’ all over again!”

“C’mon, Seul,” Yoojung says insistently, tugging on the corner of Seulgi’s flannel (otherwise known as Irene’s favorite shirt to steal). “Just a small bet.”

“What’s your offer,” Seulgi asks warily, eying her friend suspiciously.

“Nothing bad!” Yoojung quickly says defensively, before leaning in to tell Seulgi about their bet.

—

Irene looks reasonably amused when Seulgi trudges into their apartment five hours later, pouting and crossing her arms indignantly.

“So I heard that you lost a bet,” Irene chuckles, pausing the episode of Stranger Things she had queued up on the TV screen. Meanwhile, Seulgi takes the liberty to face-plant onto their couch (it had become a habit after that first drunk night out), landing right next to the older girl.

“How’d you know?” Seulgi asks, her voice barely audible as she speaks into the couch cushion.

“Yoojung texted me,” Irene explains, trying to keep the raw amusement out of her voice. The bear-like girl is just sometimes too cute for her own good, “but she spared me the exact details. Want to explain?”

With a huff, Seulgi forces herself to roll over, letting her head occupy Irene’s lap without a second thought.

“So the bet was that if I managed to draw another hard person to gift, then I would win the bet. If Yoojung got Lia Kim as her target for the third year in a row, then she’d win.” Seulgi sighs again. “Yeah, I ended up drawing Momo as my target, and she’s probably the easiest choreographer to gift in the whole studio! Had this been last year, I would’ve been so happy— all you have to do is get her a plate of jokbal and you’re good to go!”

“At least you don’t have to work too hard for a gift now,” Irene comments, only to raise a perfectly arched eyebrow at Seulgi’s groan.

“You don’t understand, Hyun. Yoojung drew our boss from the pile of names again.” Seulgi buries her face into the older girl’s stomach, muffling her voice in the fabric of Irene’s fuzzy shirt. “And now I’m stuck wearing ugly Christmas sweaters during every single one of my dance classes until Christmas!”

Her face burns with embarrassment as Irene coughs at her statement, with her coughs merging into chiming laughter moments later.

“Stop laughing,” Seulgi whines, fingers intertwining into Irene’s insistently. “Stop, Hyun! You’re making it worse!”

“I’m sorry!” Irene sputters out through her laughter. The mental imagine of the calm, collected, and ultimately girl crush Kang Seulgi having to bear through wearing those itchy, ugly Christmas sweaters during her dance classes is admitted hilarious. She makes a mental note to thank Yoojung later. “I can only imagine what your students will think!”

“I’ll lose all of my cool factor,” Seulgi grumbles. She pushes herself up, grabbing the nearest couch pillow and hiding her red face in the plush material as Irene continues to look at her with those amused, pitying eyes. “And I’m going to lose whatever amount of respect Joy and Yeri have for me!”

“I mean,” Irene shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s not like there was much respect there in the first place, so it’s not like you’re really losing much.”

If there’s one thing that hasn’t changed from their first interactions on the whiteboard still taped to their refrigerator, it’s Irene’s witty sense of of humor that seems to come out just when Seulgi needs to hear it the most.

Irene ducks to avoid the pillow that comes flying at her head, grinning at the offender.

“Let’s go shopping tomorrow, Seul! Because clearly, you are in dire need of a wardrobe expansion— mmph!”

Seulgi pulls away from the kiss breathing heavily, having successfully knocked Irene down so that she’s lying on the couch, looking up at Seulgi. Oh yeah, Seulgi’s definitely pleased with her work, with the way that Irene’s cheeks are flushed, how her lips are swollen, how her breath is labored.

She might not be a full-time artist, but Seulgi has definitely just created a work of art.

“Then tomorrow,” Seulgi murmurs into the older girl’s ear. “Now, can you help me forget about this stupid bet for the remainder of the night?”

Irene’s eyes are dark, her lips quirking.

“Consider it done.”

—

“Yah! Kang Seulgi...?” Joy says slowly, the glint in her eyes quickly transforming into something wicked. She’d poked her head into Seulgi’s dance class, where her students her muffling their giggles with their hands. Meanwhile, Irene and Yeri stand behind Joy, looking through the glass window at the dance instructor with her head in her hands.

“Don’t say anything, Sooyoung.”

Seulgi really doesn’t want to hear it.

Joy snorts. “Why are you wearin—”

“I told you not to say anything, Park Sooyoung,” Seulgi interrupts, and Joy and Yeri are sent into a fit of cackles as Seulgi shakes her head. She’s not exactly fond of her red woolen sweater herself, with its picture of Grumpy Cat in a Santa hat embroidered on it. And that’s not even the half of it— Irene had dragged her all over the mall to stock up on Christmas sweaters yesterday.

She can basically see any amount of respect Joy and Yeri maybe once had for her flushing down the drain, never to be seen again. (Although again, as Irene had wonderfully pointed out, she might’ve not actually lost that much after all).

“Why are you guys here anyways?”

It’s Irene who moves next, pushing her way past Joy and stepping into the dance practice room. There’s a brown bag held in her right hand, and Seulgi immediately lights up at the sight.

“We went out for lunch today at your favorite Thai restaurant,” Irene smiles at the sheer elation that overtakes Seulgi’s previously exasperated expression as she hands the younger girl the bag, who immediately peers into it curiously, “and we ordered you some takeout. I thought it would be better, since I wasn’t able to make you lunch thanks to my meeting with an editor.”

The older girl had felt awful for having to leave earlier than usual that morning, having to travel all the way to the publishing office building— most of the time, Irene wrote her novels from the comfort of their apartment. Seulgi had waved her off and told her not to worry, but still she felt bad.

“You’re the best, Hyun,” Seulgi says genuinely, pressing a swift kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek, and a pleased hum sounds from the older girl.

(In the background, Yeri humphs, crossing her arms indignantly. “You never thank me like that, Joy.”

“I do, too!” Joy protests, poking Yeri in the stomach insistently.)

“Oh?” One of the male students in Seulgi’s class speaks up loudly, ruining the whole atmosphere. Seulgi has to strangle down the urge to wring his neck. “Irene-ssi didn’t dump Seulgi-seongsangnim after she saw her with that ugly Christmas sweater on this morning?”

Seulgi whirls on the boy with the fury of a thousand spontaneously combusting suns, jabbing an accusing finger in his direction.

“I better not hear another sound leave your mouth, Kim Taehyung!”

—

Irene gets a text from Seulgi saying that she’ll be coming home from work a little bit late today, and while the writer gets slightly concerned, she shoots back a quick okay-emoji because she’s learned that her girlfriend is more than dependable when it comes to keeping promises.

In the meantime, she finds herself conversing with her and Seulgi’s friends about a joint Christmas party to be held on actual Christmas Day.

Joy: petition to hold the party at SeulRene’s place

Wheein: I support this petition

Irene: wait, why our place??? And what on earth is Seulrene?

Yeri: it’s your shipname with Seulgi. Also, your apartment is the nicest.

Irene: ship...name...? Kids these days... well, I guess since we have no choice...

Hwasa: Yes!!! You’re the best, Joohyun-unnie!

Irene: since when did you call me unnie...?

Wendy: Okay but as much as I love cooking, each of y’all are bringing a dish, ‘kay?

Irene: don’t worry, I won’t let Seulgi get anywhere near a stove

Moonbyul: can we pair up by couples? So each couple brings a dish

Wendy: sure, I don’t see why not

Joy: Yasssss!

Joy: wait a minute. Wendy never agrees to couple-related ideas.

Wendy: ;)

“Oh my god!” Irene exclaims aloud in shock, throwing her cellphone to the other side of the couch as though it had burned her. Since when did Wendy send winky faces?

“What the hell?!”

Irene’s seriously thinking of calling the police and asking for a special investigation on the out-of-the-norm activity going on in the groupchat when she hears a noise coming from the entrance to their apartment. She’s momentarily surprised before she hears the familiar pattering of her girlfriend’s shoes against their fuzzy welcome mat. It’s undoubtedly the younger girl struggling with taking off her shoes without using her hands— honestly, this bear.

“Something wrong, Hyun?” Seulgi sounds out of breath from the doorframe of her apartment, and Irene’s eyes widen as she turns around and sees the large cardboard box - nearly the same height as Seulgi herself - cradled carefully in the younger girl’s arms.

“... no,” Irene replies suspiciously, slowly rising from her seat and walking over to Seulgi to try and help. “Seul, what’s this?”

“This thing?” And Seulgi beams, catching Irene completely off guard. She chuckles, thumping the box lightly, just narrowly avoiding bumping her head on the doorframe. “This thing is the reason why I didn’t get home until,” she checks the digital clock on top of the TV briefly, “9PM! Wanna know what’s inside it, Hyun?”

“Well, yeah!” Irene laughs, tossing her head back at the sight of Seulgi’s face, the warmth just returning to her cheeks from being out in the cold for hours, lugging back who-even-knows-what. “Naturally I’d like to be aware of any strange objects that enter our home.”

“It’s a Christmas tree,” Seulgi says with a smile so wide, so bright, that Irene wants to grab a bit of that light and put it in her pocket, maybe even use it as their Christmas star. “Well, a fake one, obviously, since we can’t really have a real one in an apartment building - our landlord would murder us - but it’s a Christmas tree, Hyun! We can decorate it together tomorrow and everything, and there’s no mess, no need to water it—”

“It’s perfect!” Irene squeals, jumping up and down giddily in place before gingerly stepping backwards to let Seulgi set the box down in their living room. “We can go ornament shopping tomorrow, and then decorate the tree, and set up lights and string tinsel and popcorn—”

“Popcorn?” Seulgi perks up at the word.

“Not for eating, you bear,” Irene giggles, and Seulgi pouts.

“We’ll see about that, Hyun.”

—

“Kang Seulgi, stop eating the popcorn!” Irene scolds, tossing one of the burnt pieces at her girlfriend, who only swoops in and swiftly catches it in with a grin. Irene rolls her eyes good-naturedly before returning to threading more popcorn onto the popcorn chain she’d been making until she realized that a certain significant other had been taking her material for a midday snack.

“Even the burnt ones taste good,” Seulgi comments absentmindedly as she returns to setting up another shiny ornament on the tree. It’s all too easy for her to reach to the very top – she’d already claimed carrying the star to the very top of the tree – and while Irene would never admit it out loud, she’s more than a little bit jealous.

“Everything except vegetables tastes good to you,” Irene shoots back, crinkling up her nose. She’ll never stop trying to get her girlfriend to eat healthier, even if that means putting Seulgi’s favorite barbecue sauce on everything— including broccoli and spinach.

“I mean,” Seulgi shrugs, expertly swinging a pink bulb ornament around her finger, “I don’t like tomatoes either, and they’re supposedly fruits. But otherwise, not false.”

Thirty minutes after Irene’s swatted away Seulgi’s hands a few hundred times, and after Seulgi’s gone to go make popcorn for herself in the kitchen, Irene finds herself in Seulgi’s previous position. She stands on her tiptoes, her tongue poking out of the corner of in concentration as she does her best to place the ornament up high.

Three ornaments on the tree later, and Irene swears that she keeps on putting ornaments in the same place.

“What on earth is going on—” she halts, a lightbulb going off in her brain and at the epiphany, she makes a move to turn around. “Kang Seulgi where are—whoa!”

Suddenly she’s face-to-face with her smirking girlfriend, all three missing ornaments being held in one hand. The taller girl holds them up high, much higher than Irene can reach, her white teeth gleaming as her lips pull back into a grin.

“Looking for these?” Seulgi asks innocently, though her expression is just about anything but, and Irene’s about to roll her eyes to oblivion at this rate. The shorter of the two attempts to swipe the shiny, round objects back, only for Seulgi to hold them out of reach again.

Irene pouts. “Seul, give them back!”

“Give me a kiss first,” Seulgi smiles, leaning in to intrude upon Irene’s personal space.

Irene can’t say that she’s really complaining at this point.

—

Nighttime finally rolls around, and Seulgi and Irene settle onto their couch again (their couch has basically become their favorite chill spot). The writer rests her head onto Seulgi’s shoulder with a relieved sigh.

“I’m glad we finally finished the tree,” she remarks, and Seulgi nods in agreement, her chin lightly hitting the top of Irene’s head. “Decorating the apartment and tree we so much fun, but dang that was tiring.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Seulgi laughs softly, raising a hand to run through Irene’s silky hair comfortingly. “Imagine having other people to help out though.”

It’s not a firm leap into the topic, but its a broach and honestly, it’s more than enough for now. Seulgi’s not asking for anything, just bringing it up, maybe just giving it a gently nudge. But she’s more than willing to wait.

Irene smiles. “That would be nice, wouldn’t t?”

Seulgi dips her head bashfully. “But like, small people. Not now, but in a few years.”

Irene turns around and coaxes her girlfriend into a slow kiss, only pulling away after truly deeming it necessary.

“I’d really, really like that, Seulgi,” she whispers against Seulgi’s lips, and the younger of the two feels her heart swell to twice the size, a comforting warmth burning in the bottom of her belly. Irene cups Seulgi’s cheek, rests their foreheads together, and they breath in synchronicity.

“One day,” Irene promises.

“One day,” Seulgi agrees without hesitation.

—

“Wait,” Seulgi says a minute later, abruptly pulling away and leaving the couch. She dashes off to her bedroom with Irene staring at her retreating form, cocking her head to the side in curiosity. When the younger girl reappears, Seulgi’s suddenly at her side, insistently pressing a translucent star into her hands before kneeling insistently on the ground.

“Get on my back,” she demands, her voice grave and serious, and Irene laughs incredulously but gingerly climbs on.

“What are you doing?” Irene giggles, the tree-topping star gripped in her left hand as she clings to Seulgi’s back with her right.

“Carrying the star to the Christmas tree, silly! Just like I said I would earlier.”

“I’m the one carrying the star though,” Irene reasons.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m carrying my star,” Seulgi replies, adjusting her arms and hoisting up Irene a bit higher on her back as they approach the tree. Seulgi’s face isn’t in view, but Irene can hear the cheeky tone.

She feels her face heat up.

“You’re such a flatterer,” Irene mutters, puffing out one cheek. “I thought you wanted to put the star on top?”

“I never said that,” Seulgi singsongs. “Besides, my real star is already a top.”

“I would hit you if it wasn’t true.”

“Feel free to scold me all you want after you place that thing up there.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll be giving you a scolding by whooping your in Mario Kart.”

“Oh, you’re on, Bae Joohyun.”

—

“You two probably have the most disgustingly competitive relationship in the world. It’s almost concerning,” Moonbyul ways, openly gaping at the couple across the table. “Like, seriously? You guys went to sleep at 2AM?”

From where she’s leaning her head on Seulgi’s shoulder, Irene cracks one of her eyes open as she cuddles even closer to her girlfriend and hugs Seulgi’s arm even tighter, small fingers gripping to Seulgi’s most recent plaid Christmas sweater (it’s honestly the least hated out of Seulgi’s collection by now).

The older girl snorts before returning to her light nap, perfectly content with burying even closer to Seulgi’s warmth— she’s still recovering from braving the outdoors for more than thirty minutes. Irene is not cold-blooded (much to popular misconception), and she revels in having her own personal sun also known as Kang Seulgi.

“You make it seem like we were doing something naughty,” Seulgi says incredulously. She subconsciously rubs firm circles into Irene’s back. Honestly, these people always assume the worst.

“That’s the thing,” Solar deadpans. Sometimes, she really can’t understand her best friend and her best friend’s girlfriend— she swears on her life that she and Moonbyul were never like this. “You guys weren’t doing anything naughty. You were playing Mario Kart.”

“What’s your point?” Seulgi asks challengingly, and Moonbyul smacks a hand to her face.

“Oh dear god, here we go again...”

“Okay, listen,” Irene finally groggily says, sitting up and holding up her index finger, sleep still written all over her face. “First of all, Mario Kart should be considered a recreational sport. Second of all, we’re not tired from competitively playing Mario Kart alone. We—”

“So you’re saying that you competed in something else? I didn’t need to know that,” Solar mutters.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Irene snaps. She’s been rolling her eyes an awful lot recently. Honestly. These people and their tendencies of thinking the dirtiest thing to come to mind. Yongsun must have incredibly strong legs with all the jumping to conclusions. “I was going to say that we had a snowball fight during the walk over here, thank you very much.”

“Irene hurled a snowball at me that had a chunk of ice in it!” Seulgi bursts out, unable to help herself.

“It was a small piece of ice!” Irene exclaims defensively. “I didn’t even know there was ice in there at all until you decided to catch it instead of just dodging like usual! Like a normal person.”

“You should be thankful that I had gloves on!”

“It wouldn’t have hurt you anyways!”

“I almost wish you guys had just left it at something else.” Moonbyul sighs.

“Oh, please,” Irene exclaims, throwing her head back with a booming laugh as Seulgi scrunches her nose and pretends to look annoyed. “I’m not one hundred percent sure what you guys are entailing about your something else, but I think I can guarantee that there is absolutely no competition in whatever your twisted minds are thinking up.”

Solar’s eyes are wide and Moonbyul openly gapes. The older couple looks back and forth in shock between the innocent-looking Irene and the nonchalant Seulgi before finally setting their sights on the younger of the two, their eyes begging for answers.

Seulgi blinks, pointing a finger at herself. “Me? What are you looking at me for? It’s not like Irene’s wrong.”

Solar and Moonbyul whip their gazes to Irene so fast that Seulgi’s genuinely worried that they’ll break their necks from the effort.

Irene is smirking the biggest Cheshire Cat smile the world has ever witnessed.

“Irene-unnie is scary,” Moonbyul murmurs, and Solar can only nod in agreement.

“That she is, Byul. That she is.”

—

“Wow, I at ice skating,” Irene states, as though it’s a new development that Seulgi’s just learning about now. “Like, I really . My still hurts, not even going to lie.”

The reality is that Seulgi’s known that Irene is awful at ice skating for a good three months now. It’s just that she hadn’t actually witnessed the full extent of Irene’s supposed legendary lack of skill until about an hour ago, during which Seulgi had “skated circles around me” (according to Irene), causing Irene to whine and complain about needing to hold onto the little penguin push helper.

“Just let go of the penguin, Hyun,” Seulgi had coaxed patiently, over and over, even when Irene had continued to shake her head and grip even tighter to Mr. Penguin.

“I’m going to fall, Seul!” The older girl had complained, sounding amusingly close to what a five-year-old might say as well, should they be taken ice skating against their will.

“You won’t, I promise!” Seulgi had replied, expertly skating backwards and holding her hand out to Irene. “Babe, hold onto my hand! I’ll always be there to catch you!”

Irene had been less afraid since then, clutching Seulgi’s right hand tightly, not daring to let go. Seulgi had chuckled at her, but it was fine. Baby steps, she had decided. Besides, it’s not like she would ever pass up on the opportunity to hold her girlfriend’s hand.

“You got better,” Seulgi reassures her as they walk hand-in-hand down the brick park paths, rubbing the back of Irene’s gloved hands with her thumb. “Next time, you won’t even need me!”

They near the Christmas tree in the center of the park – at least twice as tall as their own tree – where people were hanging up little paper ornaments with their Christmas wishes on them, placed to bring hope for the future, hope for their lives.

Seulgi smiles at the sight. Ever since her childhood, her parents had always taken her to this Christmas tree to leave her wish list for Santa Claus (and by extension, her wish list for her parents), and now years later, she visits with her girlfriend. She’d called her parents that morning— they were too old to bear the cold, they’d told her a few years ago. But this year, when they’d found out that their daughter wouldn’t be alone, they’d been a bit more than ecstatic, having met Irene earlier that year during which they had absolutely fallen in love with her.

“Maybe,” Irene hums. “But I can still hold your hand though, right? If I want to?”

Seulgi grins. “Of course, Hyun.”

“Great!”

They’d reached the small folding table with the paper ornaments on it. A woman behind the table handed them a pencil, and they’d thanked her politely.

“Don’t look at mine yet,” Irene says with a giggle, playfully jumping a few feet away from Seulgi, who laughs but nods.

“Then don’t come peeking at mine, Hyun!”

Five minutes have passed when they meet again in front of the tree, and Seulgi helps Irene carefully hang her ornament up higher.

“What did you ask for, Hyun?” Seulgi asks casually, letting Irene climb down from her back.

“Only if you tell me first,” Irene teases.

“Well,” Seulgi suddenly turns sheepish, rubbing the back of her head. “It sounds cheesy, but I asked to keep everything that I gained this year. I asked for everything I received to stay.”

Irene’s eyes are soft as she nods and takes her girlfriend’s hands. “Something tells me that your wish is going to come true.”

“And you? What did you ask for?”

“Something similar to yours,” Irene replies, all soft eyes, soft smiles, soft touches. “I asked to spend next Christmas with you, and the one after that, and the one after that. Just like this. Or maybe even better. Maybe with other people. Little people.”

Seulgi feels tears of joy prick at the corners of her eyes, and with her free hand, she swipes at the droplets. Irene beams at her.

“I’d like that, Irene. I really do.”

—

They spend the December 24th in Daegu with both Seulgi and Irene’s families – Seulgi’s had been more than excited to meet Irene’s mother and father after a few video chats. It’s a day full of family and memories and warmth, and baby pictures and home videos and Seulgi thinking that she’s in the clear before her father pulls out his new iPhone (Seulgi had gifted it to him for his last birthday), taps on Facebook, and reveals that he had uploaded Seulgi’s old videos online for them to treasure eternally.

“You were so cute, Seul,” Irene coos, pinching one of Seulgi’s cheeks as their parents and siblings roar with laughter in the background over another baby video. “What happened?”

“Excuse you,” Seulgi gasps, pretending to act offended, and she throws her arms around Irene and pinning her down on the sofa. “You’re lucky I love you, baby.”

“I am so lucky you love me,” Irene says breathlessly, her hair sprawled all around her, cheeks tinted red, and Seulgi knows that even years from now, through the sun and storms and everything in between, no one but Irene will ever be able to stir something like this inside her— these hummingbirds.

—

They have to leave that night, unfortunately, because there’s a Christmas party happening in their apartment on Christmas afternoon. Seulgi’s parents, though, end up staying the rest of the week, with Seulgi’s older brother promising that he’ll be the one to bring them back in a few days.

Irene says goodbye to her parents with tight hugs, and Seulgi wishes her parents a good stay. It’s a heartfelt goodbye that’s by no means permanent, but Irene still holds Seulgi’s right hand the whole ride back home.

—

When they get back home, Irene scurries off to her room as Seulgi warms herself with a cup of hot chocolate, even pouring a second one for Irene when the older girl falls for Seulgi from her bedroom.

Upon joining her girlfriend, Seulgi smiles softly as she sees a new quote on Irene’s wall of writing.

Oh, there’s no place like home for the holidays!

“Home is with you,” Irene states, finally turning her head to look at Seulgi, endearment written all of her face. “My home is with you.”

“And you are mine,” Seulgi smiles, an arm wrapping around Irene’s waist as they look over Irene’s decorated wall.

“This place is warm,” Irene comments, and Seulgi nods.

“This place is very warm.”

—

“Merry Christmas, plebeians! Whose bright idea was it to hang mistletoe underneath every single doorway in this apartment!?” Solar’s shout echoes throughout the residence, ringing down the hallways to the kitchen, where Irene is putting the finishing touches on the ham.

“Merry Christmas, you loser! And it wasn’t us!” Irene yells back, pretending to grimace as Moonbyul places a swift kiss to Solar’s lips. “Yeri and Joy came early to hang them all up!”

“You missed it,” Seulgi says from where she’s setting the table. “It was a really funny process. It was Yeri trying to put something up, but then Joy having to take over because Yeri’s too short to reach the top of the doorframe.”

“I’m not short!” Yeri yells from the living room. “I’m fun-sized!”

“Sure,” Irene says drily. “Joy, come here and bring the ham to the dinner table!”

“Yes, mother!”

Joy struts her way into the kitchen, whisks the platter of ham up like a pro, and carries it out of the kitchen held over her head like a waitress at a five-star restaurant. Irene wants to bang her head onto the counter.

Hwasa and Wheein arrive soon after, wielding a fruit salad that they’d admittedly bought at the store on the way over because “do you guys really trust us with anything related to making something edible?”

“This thing isn’t even cooked in the slightest,” Wheein says, setting the salad down. “And I’m still worried.”

The best part though, is when Wendy appears at the entrance with another girl at her shoulder and everyone freaks out— especially Solar.

“Eunji?!” The pink-haired girl shrieks, successfully piercing everyone’s ears in the general vicinity (and probably Irene and Seulgi’s neighbors too). She gapes at the sight of her fellow musical actress standing on the welcome carpet with her eyebrow quirked. “You’re dating Wendy? Our Seungwan?”

“Yes?” The newcomer chuckles with a shrug, and Wendy laughs, playfully hitting the slightly taller girl’s shoulder. “I started going to her bakery a lot when I finally moved to the area.”

Joy whirls onto poor Wendy. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

“It was still a thing in progress?” Wendy offers in a high-pitched voice, hiding behind her new girlfriend. “We became official yesterday?” It’s spoken like a question, but Seulgi can tell from the look in Eunji’s eyes that she finds their dear friend absolutely adorable.

Irene materializes at Seulgi’s side as the rest of their friends continue to grill the new couple, and the two of them share a laugh.

“Poor Wendy,” Seulgi murmurs, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

“Better them than us,” Irene jokes, shifting slightly as Seulgi drapes an arm around her. “It’s someone else’s turn to be the new couple on the block.”

“I approve,” Seulgi whistles lowly. “I always knew that Wendy would end up dating a musical star.”

“They suit each other,” Irene comments. “A baker and a musical actress— sounds like the perfect plot for a romance novel.”

“Are you feeling inspired?” Seulgi asks, a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh yeah,” Irene nods, giggling. “By tomorrow afternoon, I’ll have the first chapter to my new light romance novel, starring main characters Seungji and Eunwan. Please anticipate it.”

“You know I’ll love whatever you write,” Seulgi says appraisingly.

“You know that I love you,” Irene returns with a smile.

And then Seulgi’s kissing her yet again, and she’s fallen in love with Irene yet again, and they’re totally ignoring everyone else in their apartment yet again, and yet again, Seulgi really, really can’t find it in herself to actually care.

Damn, she’s in love, and she’s in deep.

(Joy rolls her eyes at the sight of her friends kiss for the billionth time. “Ugh, you better get used to this, Eunji. Seulgi and Irene do this a lot.”

“Oh, trust me,” Eunji chuckles. “Wan has warned me.”

“Just always be on guard,” Moonbyul cautions.

“It’s been months and they’re still falling in love,” Wendy sighs dreamily, and Solar nods in agreement.

“They really are couple goals though, you have to admit.”

“It’s disgusting,” Hwasa states.

Wheein laughs. “Even you are envious of them, Hyejin, admit it.”

“What’s disgusting is how they don’t even need mistletoe to find an excuse to kiss,” Yeri deadpans.

“Merry Christmas, everyone,” Eunji jokes, and they all laugh before Solar erupts into the chorus of I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.)

End.

AN: Thanks for reading, everyone! Happy holidays!!!!