An update?! What is this sorcery...
Shoutout to my ever constant buddy/beta/soulmate, @LiNafied, for being my cheerleader always <3

75

In the past, Irene finds it difficult to say the words she means as they struggle to come out, only to drop back down in disappointment. She breathes in as much courage, but exhales a sigh instead.
 

For spoken words are ones that she fears. If there weren’t any numbers and mathematical operational signs in the sentence, chances are, Irene is bound to feel anxious. It’s why she repeatedly murmurs under her breath the words she would need to say beforehand, repetition calming her down much like how counting the laces of her shoes would.
 

(And she knows, with her heart, how many times those laces cross, for she had spent more time staring at them than at people's eyes.)
 

She heard that eyes are the windows to one's soul and Irene can't help but think her soul must be the dull ones – predominantly grey, endless with little variety in the monochrome to describe her personality. A robot programmed to study and nothing more.
 

Lifeless.

An asteroid, simply orbiting.

Until she was reminded to look up at the stars again.

“I’m not the best with words. And I don’t know if it will make you feel better. But…I accept you.”

“That means a lot to me, Irene.”

***

“Irene, I love lavender too but if you’re going to pour the whole bottle in there, people are going to think that we ran out of soap in the shower and had to settle with laundry detergent.”
 

Irene glances down, realising with a start that she had been pouring more than necessary into the washing machine and retracts her arm immediately, “Oh–”
 

Seulgi peeks into the washing machine and grimaces, “Well, we can’t exactly put it back into the bottle. I’m gonna fill the lecture halls with lavender for a week.”
 

Irene screws the cap of the detergent back on and hung her head in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”
 

“No you’re not, you actually love reeking of lavender from head to toe,” Seulgi snorts, shaking her head. She looks over at the girl, flashing a smile, “It’s fine, Irene.”
 

Irene doesn’t feel as assured but she nods anyway. She sits down heavily on the chair nearby, sighing wearily before burying her face in the palms of her hands. She isn’t always like this. Doing the laundry is a routine that came automatic to her, every step practically ingrained into her since she was a little kid. She never gets distracted. Ever.
 

It is just these...feelings.
 

They aren't familiar.
 

They aren't even something she could put together in a single comprehensible sentence. Many times, Irene tried to voice it out to her roommate but each time, her words would be caught in and she retreated back into her shell.
 

All she knows is that something had taken root inside of her ever since that night with Wendy and it had eclipsed everything else that she had ever felt before.
 

Is it possible for one to feel so happy but distressed at the same time?
 

In a bid to distract herself, Irene takes the day’s newspaper and flips open to the page where the job ads are. There are exactly 113 of them and though it seems to be quite a daunting task, she believes something worthwhile might come out of it.
 

Irene thought of finding a job after detailing her budget for the next few months. Even though her parents still send her money every month, Irene can’t possibly depend on them forever, no matter how good their intentions may be.
 

But it’s easier said than done, as Irene scans through, squinting at potential openings in fast food restaurants and clothing stores. With hair messily pulled into a bun, she chews on the end of her pen absentmindedly, mouth moving soundlessly while reading the requirements.
 

Irene knows there’s no way she is going to take up that job at the fried chicken joint, and a sales associate with that clothing brand would never work, her promoting skills practically non-existent. And she doubts waiting tables is her speciality, considering how much of a klutz she is. Irene is sure her centre of gravity is completely more off than everybody else.
 

Disheartened, Irene decides to immerse herself in the Sudoku puzzle in the corner of the newspaper page.
 

(After all, it’s still a better puzzle than the one that had been plaguing her lately.)
 

But when Irene finishes the puzzle too quickly, her brain instantly swarms with unwanted thoughts of dull asteroids and bright stars in the cosmos.
 

This isn’t going to work. She groans in frustration, burying her face in her palms again.
 

Irene hears her roommate’s voice ask, “Job search not going too well?” and she shakes her head with a noncommittal grunt.
 

Irene lets her hands fall away from her face, fixing her gaze on the smooth skin of her wrist. The mark of infinity, no longer visible but had seared itself beneath her flesh, permanently imprinted as another puzzle piece Irene could only hope to fit somewhere.
 

She looks over at Seulgi, who is busy doodling in the little sketchbook that she brought along, presumably to pass the time as they wait for their laundry.
 

Usually, Irene would do the laundry for the both of them, Seulgi never quite understanding the girl's fascination with washing clothes but lets her be anyway since it isn't her most favourite chore. But today, Seulgi decides to tag along, listing boredom as one of her many reasons.
 

But the laundry detergent is just another to add to her list of careless mistakes over the week. If her roommate really didn't notice her strange behaviour, it would be nothing short of a miracle.
 

"Seul?"
 

"Hmm?"
 

"I have to tell you something.”
 

Seulgi looks up and meets Irene's anxious gaze. She lifts an eyebrow, “If it’s another one of your grand observations of the laundry detergent, I don’t want to hear it.”
 

Irene could go on about the wonders of the laundry detergent for hours because that’s how fascinating they are. Maybe that’s why Seulgi isn’t as enthusiastic over washing clothes, “It’s not that, I promise.”
 

Her roommate tilts her head a little but she’s listening, “Go on.”
 

But Irene doesn’t even know where to begin. “My head’s a mess,” she states matter-of-factly.
 

“That’s kinda obvious. You’ve been acting weird for the past week.  I thought you were nervous about your exams.”
 

“I don’t know what’s wrong but I don’t think school is the reason.” Irene begins to wring her hands, cracking her knuckles while lips curl into a frown, “I never experienced anything like this before.”
 

“Like what?”
 

Like chemicals running riot in her brain, spiking at unimaginable levels. Like restless atoms yearning to break free of their arrangements. Like – “Like I’m going to combust,” says Irene finally, the words feeling like deadweight on the tip of her tongue, “It’s just…weird.”
 

“Maybe you’re stressed?” Seulgi suggests, closing her sketchbook, “It’s perfectly normal to be burned out during exam periods, you know?”
 

“It’s not that, Seulgi.”
 

Seulgi shakes her head, not quite believing Irene’s words. She purses her lip, choosing her next words carefully, “Is it Wendy?”
 

The sudden mention of the girl startles Irene, “What made you think that?”
 

“I can hardly believe that I would be the first person you would be telling your unique predicament to. Not that I'm offended since we aren't exactly at that level of chumminess but,” Seulgi tilted her head even more, a curious lilt to her words, “Is there another reason why Wendy isn't the first person you're talking to?”
 

Irene opens , ready to retort with an answer but shuts it almost immediately. Her moment of hesitation doesn't escape her roommate's watchful eyes, "Well?"
 

Well, why didn’t she?

(The skin on her wrist tingles slightly.)
 

“I-I thought I tell you first,” Irene sputters but her words lack confidence. Why should she be so afraid of telling that one person about her emotional state?
 

“Let’s see,” Seulgi taps her chin, thinking very hard, “Heaven knows, you barely showed emotion to anything until Wendy came along. You talk to her all the time, even went out the whole night with her – yes, I knew that, I just pretended not to have seen the note you threw away when you came back at dawn. Oh, and you’re smiling and laughing for absolutely no reason even more now, which I guess is a result of being around her.”
 

Irene is silent, staring unblinkingly at Seulgi.
 

Seulgi continues, “You blush every time I mention her name. And don’t get me started on the number of times you managed to squeeze Wendy into every single conversation we have.”
 

“You mentioned her first!”
 

“And you couldn’t give me a response when I did,” Seulgi replies calmly, a faint smirk on her lips.
 

“But,” Irene begins to feel exasperated, ignoring her cheeks that are glowing pink at the moment. She stumbles over her next words, all coming out in a rush, “I-I really don’t know what I’m feeling. All these weird things going on in my head– I don’t know! A-And I just don’t think Wendy would want to hear about them. She’s got enough on her plate as it is.”
 

Seulgi doesn’t say anything. She continues looking at Irene with an odd expression however, her smirk faltering into an involuntary rictus. Irene fidgets in her seat, growing even more uncomfortable under her roommate’s gaze and the silence builds up to another level of awkwardness that she had yet experienced.
 

(She knows Seulgi takes a while to comprehend things but this was stretching too far.)
 

“Well, Seul?”
 

Seulgi suddenly becomes thoughtful, finally saying, “You don’t…you really don’t know what you’re feeling, do you?”
 

Irene sighs impatiently, “If you know, please tell me because I’m coming up with blanks here.”
 

Seulgi sharply barks out a laugh, clapping Irene’s shoulder and shaking it slightly, “I wouldn’t know. But you’re smart. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
 

This time, Irene does roll her eyes and gently shove the girl, not quite appeased by her words. Voicing out the thoughts only makes her even more confused.
 

This is why she doesn’t involve emotions in anything. Detachment is a blessing for one as emotionally stunted as her. Irene knows this very well, treading carefully in the elliptical orbit that has been set for her, avoiding the chaos that could wreck even the strongest of mountains.
 

But she can’t very much avoid them forever – one way or another, she will cross paths with a hurricane and Irene will forget what dewdrops look like in the mornings when she already ran in the torrential rains of the nights.
 

And golden rays shining, refracting through frosted glass will never feel the same as when she came too close to the effulgence of a star collapsing upon itself.
 

After a brief pause, Irene is curious about something and proceeds to ask, “Do I…really smile more now?”
 

“When you first arrived here, you were like a rabbit. A terrified rabbit counting all sorts of things while communicating non-verbally through nods and shakes.” Seulgi laughs at a certain memory, “I swear, it took me two weeks before you finally said something – and that was you telling me I have eleven paintbrushes and two rags in the bathroom sink and asking whether I was going to retrieve them. I almost had a heart attack because I had no idea you were speaking, let alone actually have a voice in the first place.”
 

Irene cringes, “I know I was bad but I didn’t think it was that terrible.”
 

“Right,” her laughter dies down and the tone of her voice becomes more serious. Seulgi turns to Irene once more, a gentle smile on her lips, “But honestly, Irene?”
 

“I’m really glad you met Wendy. I don’t know if you realised it, but your colours show more now.”

*

Irene knew something had changed the morning after, and the mornings onwards. There was a distinct sensation within her, like butterflies fluttering about in a frenzy as her stomach twisted and flipped at the thought of a single person. Swirls of anxiety, fear and confusion culminating together into something so terrifying that Irene deduced that it could not possibly be natural.
 

For a few days after that particular night, both girls – especially Irene – had been busy with their respective exams and time was hardly ever on their side. The best they could come up with was to send texts and a phone call every other night.
 

Then, came a rare ‘free’ day in their week.
 

“There. Take that.”
 

“That wasn’t a smart move...”
 

“Don’t get cocky.”
 

“Are you referring to yourself?”
 

“Of course not. Now make a move, you goofball.”
 

Irene held back the laughter that suddenly erupted in her chest, deciding to disguise it with a cough. She picked up the queen and moved it three squares to the left. With a cheeky grin, Irene leaned back against the bed frame.
 

“Checkmate.”
 

Wendy blinked at the chessboard, eyebrows pulled close together. She squinted suspiciously at Irene, “I totally saw that move coming from a mile away.”
 

Irene scoffed, picking up a pawn and chucking it at Wendy, “Oh, did you now?”
 

“Duh,” Wendy dodged the missile, “I just decided to let you win.”
 

“You let me win three times in a row?”
 

Wendy flipped her hair, “What can I say? I’m very generous.”
 

“...and losing in less than 10 minutes?”
 

“I am generous, okay? Just stick with that.”
 

Irene finally laughed out loud, rearranging the pieces on the board, “I told you so.”
 

“Thank you for being so gracious in my defeat.” Wendy yawned loudly, proceeding to lie flat on the floor with her hands tucked behind her head, “You wait, I’ll beat you one day.”
 

“I look forward to our rematch.” Irene placed the board on her desk, grabbing her notes off the top of her files before settling back down.
 

She was surprised to find Wendy outside her room after a rather long and gruelling exam. But she couldn’t deny the little skip in her heartbeat upon seeing the girl.
 

As great as her other friends are, they couldn’t fill the void that Wendy usually occupies. Something is always missing and Irene can't pinpoint exactly what - maybe she is so used to Wendy that even her nerves system automatically craved for Wendy's whimsical ways and dry humour, plus an additional dose of adventure.
 

“What brings you here?” Irene had asked, watching as the girl stood up while brushing the dirt off the back of her pants. She noticed how pronounced the dark circles were beneath Wendy’s blue eyes and wondered then how much sleep the girl must have been lacking over the past few weeks.
 

Ever since Wendy’s scuffle with her brother, Irene finally understood what stars look like when they are close to the end of their battle. Perhaps a million years sounds like an eternity, but the truth is, everything ends. Fighting against their own gravity, burning through fuel until finally collapsing under their own weight –
 

Collapsing inwards.
 

But then Wendy flashed a smile brighter than a thousand suns and Irene couldn’t help but smile back; the intensity of it was blinding.
 

“I didn’t have much to do after my paper so I thought I drop by. I tried calling, but your phone was off.”
 

Irene’s smile turned sheepish as she fished out her phone, showing the blank screen, “The battery died.” She forgot to plug the phone in the night before.
 

Wendy nodded, tongue poking the inside of her cheek, her voice a little uncertain, “I hope I’m not intruding...”
 

“No, no you’re not,” Irene tried not to seem too frantic as she unlocked her room door, “Seulgi’s out so it’s fine. Come in!”
 

Three rounds of chess and an hour later, Irene sat on the floor of her room, idly humming a tune as she highlighted paragraphs in her notes. Wendy was still lying on her back, motionless. When Irene stretched her legs, her right foot would brush just barely against Wendy’s knee.
 

Irene always found silence to be daunting. It means thoughts running rampage in space, devoid of sounds to distract her. But silence with Wendy is...different. Comforting. At times, silence forces Irene to fill the void with faux conversation, to alleviate any awkwardness that lingered in the air.
 

But with Wendy, there’s none of that.
 

And in this silence, Irene let her eyes wander and watched unabashedly the way Wendy’s chest would rise and fall with every breath. The afternoon sunlight slipped through the curtains, casting golden rays on her dark tresses and shadows beneath the curve of her jaw.
 

With her eyes closed, Wendy looked more peaceful...but vulnerable. Because Wendy seemed like a castle – formidable, made of the hardest stone, its towers standing tall as a deterrence to the enemies that threatened to tear her down.
 

But as Irene made her way past the defences of careless fun and idealistic quips, she found that it was not solid stone, but grains of sand held together with water, more brittle to touch.
 

She still didn’t know where those cracks running through the walls came from, but she wished there’s a way to stop them from appearing. Irene feared that the slightest movement on her end would crumble the visage into cracked remnants and disintegrated into fine dust.
 

Maybe it explained the harsh pangs in her heart and the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach whenever she sees or thinks of Wendy.
 

How her heart would race faster than the average of seventy-five each time their eyes meet.
 

Irene continued observing Wendy quietly over the top of her notes, averting her gaze instantly when the girl suddenly opened her eyes, blearily looking around.
 

“Oh man, I almost fell asleep.” Wendy rubbed her eyes, her motions languid as she shifted to her side, frowning at Irene, “What are you doing?”
 

“Studying,” Irene mumbled, chewing on the end of a pen while perusing the papers. She meets Wendy’s gaze, “You can sleep on my bed if you want.”
 

Wendy shook her head, “It’s okay. I find your carpet very cosy.”
 

“Weirdo.”
 

“Goofball.”
 

“Mushroom.”
 

“Cabbage.”
 

They smiled at the same time. Irene ducked her head, breaking their eye-contact when she thought it had stretched out for too long. Clearing indistinctly, she asked out of curiosity, “When’s the last time you had proper sleep?”
 

Wendy hummed, picking at the fuzz on the carpet, “Does one ever have proper sleep in college?”
 

Fair point. Irene shrugged, “Seulgi could sleep through a stampede of elephants, for sure.”
 

Wendy laughed softly, “She should tell me her secret.”
 

“I’m still trying to figure it out.” Her smile lasted only a moment and she tilted her head slightly, notes forgotten, “What I mean to say, is that you look really worn out.”
 

“I am worn out. Too many things running in my head,” Wendy wildly gestured with her hands as if to emphasise her point, “But it’ll pass. Don’t worry about it.”
 

Irene’s fingers curled and dug into the carpet. The urge to find a solution to problems was a sure genetic defect that ran through her bloodstreams. She used to think it’s only for mathematical equations but Wendy had opened up her mind to a different kind of problems – the kind that doesn’t run on numbers and coefficients.
 

The kind that hearts can’t hold together for too long before falling apart.
 

And she didn’t know how to solve that.
 

(But she wasn’t the type to leave puzzles unsolved either.)
 

“Wendy?”
 

“Yeah?”
 

Bright blue eyes riveted from the shelf on the wall towards Irene. The scientist in her couldn't help but think there’s a cosmic ocean in those blue eyes and she’s raring to set sail among the stars.
 

“Is everything okay?” Irene uttered apprehensively, “I know it’s not in my place to ask, but I’m just…worried.”
 

Wendy didn’t respond immediately. She slowly sat up, her gaze pensive while a strand of hair fell over her brow. Irene put away her notes and pulled her knees up to her chest, the feeling of disquiet in the pits of her stomach.
 

“It’s okay for you to ask. Really.” Wendy traced invisible circles on the carpet, focusing intently on the movement of her finger. She exhaled.
 

“So, my parents weren’t too happy with the stunt I pulled. As expected.” Wendy rolled her eyes, “And my uncle knew about it too. Pretty much had to meet him in the office.”
 

When Wendy didn’t continue after a few moments, Irene bit the bullet, “It didn’t go too well… I assume?”
 

“Nope.” Wendy had a wry smile when she briefly peeked at Irene, “Nope it didn’t. He dotes on me a lot, you know? Since I was a kid. But I think it bothers him quite a bit to see the family in such disarray.”
 

“And he wants to help fix it. Though I see it as pretty hopeless, since for things to work, both parties need to be fully in it.”
 

“And you don’t want to fix it?” The words left her before Irene could change her mind.
 

Wendy stopped drawing circles. She tilted her face just a little to finally look at Irene fully. Irene couldn’t figure out the majority of the emotions flashing in Wendy’s eyes, the dark abyss hidden within that probably held more galaxies than the universe itself. But she caught a hint of melancholy in there somewhere.
 

Wendy sighed, “I’m always following what my parents want. They asked for good grades, I gave them. They asked for trophies, I gave them. I made them proud, like any good kid could do. They expected me to be a doctor, a lawyer, whatever’s the norm these days.”
 

“Just for once, I would probably appreciate it if they could just give me what I want. I suppose, certain things just don't happen when you want them to.”
 

Irene muttered, more of a statement than a question, “You miss them.”
 

Wendy didn’t refute that but she grimaced, “They’re a bunch of insufferable s sometimes but… They are my parents. Also, I can’t leave my idiot brother to deal with them alone.” She scoffed, “Truth is, Irene, it can get kinda lonely sometimes and it’s strangely terrifying, like I shouldn’t have left.”
 

Irene mulled over those words, prompting her to say something in return, “Like a bird in a cage.”
 

“Sorry?” Irene glanced over at Wendy, who was suddenly frowning, clearly not understanding.
 

Irene took a deep breath and continued, “It’s not strange. You’re afraid and I think it’s perfectly fine. You’re the bird that escaped its cage, but found itself in brand new territory. There will always be that need to gravitate towards what is familiar and safe, but that’s how people get stuck, you know? The only thing to do is to move but people seldom do it because they’re comfortable with where they are.”
 

Wendy gazed silently at the room door for a long moment – they seemed to sparkle brightly, awash with a flood of emotions that Irene once again could not sift through. When Wendy finally spoke, her voice was thick with amazement, “You are so refreshing, it is beyond belief. Are science majors usually very philosophical or did I somehow trigger that dormant side of you with all my idealistic rants?”
 

Irene laughed, “Probably triggered.” She looked down at Wendy’s hand still on the carpet and dared herself to do somet