“Where are you going?”

Wendy reached out to Irene petulantly, fingers curling midair just as she missed Irene’s leaving figure. The writer threw a smile over her bare shoulder and slipped on the sweater she had plucked from the ground, the curve of the corner of her lip drawing a sigh from Wendy. Irene shook her head and replied in that soft way of hers, always dreamy and yet always observant.

“I forgot I had something to show you.”

There was a light blush on her cheeks, dusting just enough to make it look like she was sun kissed. Wendy laughed at the sight, remembering just how caught up they were in each other for the weekend, a long overdue reunion between two lovers who had missed each other so desperately. She waved her hand, drawing a glare from the older woman before settling back down on the pillows, anticipating the surprise Irene had obviously prepared.

*

You have.

You will.

You do.

*

“Seulgi...”

“Yes?”

“Seulgi... What if I can’t find them?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“But what if? What if I’m that person who always misses and never gets the prize?”

“Remember when I was running around in a panic because I saw colours but I missed my soulmate?”

“Remember what you said to me?”

“You said that I should keep my chin up because fate had meant for it to happen.”

*

Irene held out the book, her shaking fingers betraying just how nervous she felt. She gestured for Wendy to take it, watching as her girlfriend stared at her recently published book in confusion.

“Your new book? But I already bought it-”

Irene cut her off with a shake of her head.

“It’s a different version. The only one in this world.”

Wendy furrowed her brow, evidently still confused but game to whatever it was Irene was planning. Humming, she flipped the cover open, taking in the delicate drawings that Irene had with the book, the intertwining lines that made up pictures which told the story within.

“In this book, I talked about fairytale endings and reincarnation.”

Wendy nodded.

“The characters met with each other time and time again, only to be ripped apart by fate.”

Irene sat on the bed gingerly, fingers pulling at the loose sheets, tongue thick and leaden as she tried to form her words to be able to tell Wendy the inspiration behind the book.

Pale fingers touched the back of her hand lightly, a gentle anchor to memories that threatened to wash Irene away like they had many times before, the reason for everything that has happened till now.

She looked up at Wendy and quirked another smile, the soft touch turning into a cradle of palms, assuring, light and filled with love.

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me but...”

She trailed off and watched as Wendy stared at her with no expectations, merely someone waiting for a heart to be bared.

“This is a story about us.”

*

Because when it comes to them, there is no past tense.

*

“It’s okay to not be alright, you know? You don’t have to be strong the whole way.”

“Is it really? Won’t they tear me to shreds at the first sign of weakness?”

“Not if the cameras aren’t rolling. Here, in the sanctuary of the residence, the few moments in the arena where it’s dark and the cameras can’t see you, you can not be alright.”

“Is that what you did?”

“I... I’m not like you. You’re a fighter. You’re strong. And it’s okay to not be alright for some part of the way because at the end, you’re going to keep it all together. And that’s when it matters.”

“And because of that strength, I can tell you that I have faith in you. You’re going to make it back. Be sure of it, Irene.”

“You think so?”

“I’ve never told any of my other tributes this. But with you, I can feel it. You’re going to come back, Irene.”

*

Wendy laughed at how serious Irene was being.

“Of course it’s about us. You said it in an interview.”

Irene shook her head slightly, her body shifting as she held Wendy’s hand tightly, fingers pressing into her wrist like a brand.

“No. You don’t get it. This book. It’s memories of us.”

Wendy’s left eyebrow raised towards the heavens as she tried to read the expression on Irene’s face. There was no mockery on the face sculpted by gods, nor did it seem like Irene was trying to play a trick on her.

Irene, despite how crazy it sounded, truly believed every word she was saying.

Wendy gulped down the words she had wanted to say initially and pressed on carefully, not wanting to dismiss Irene carelessly like she did before.

(To listen.

And to be listened to.

That was their promise.)

“Can you explain it to me please?”

The older woman let out a breath, her shoulders slumping down as though a huge weight had been lifted from them. Delicately, Irene pulled the book from Wendy’s grasp and flipped it to the middle, where Wendy knew from memory laid her favourite story in the book.

Pompeii.

(Somewhere in the cavern of her chest, where warmth and stardust resided, a glow sparked.

Familiar.

Wanting.

And never forgotten.)

*

Let there be Ruins in the chasm you call your heart.

Let there be War at the tip of your tongue.

Let there be Strife in your touches.

Just as long as there is Love in those eyes.

*

“There’s... no mistletoe...”

“No. Seulgi said - Well, she said that you were oblivious and obviously not getting it, despite all the kisses I’ve been giving you and told me to just get a move on.”

“I’m not getting what?”

“You’re not getting that I like you and that I want to do this kissing thing for real.”

*

Irene could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the tension bleeding from her muscles at the sight of Wendy willingly listening rather than dismiss her outright. Emboldened by that, she forged forward, her words clumsy like they always were when she was talking and nothing like it was when she wrote art out on paper.

“It sounds weird, I know. But- my brain- my mind - There’s always these out of place memories- It’s like-”

She cut herself off abruptly, a sudden flare of anger at the edge of her ribs at her inability to explain. In her mind, the sound of the ocean was deafening and the shrill cries of-

Wendy interrupted quietly.

“JooHyun. Breathe.”

And like always, she was brought back to the present where her SeungWan existed. She took in a deep breath as instructed and looked into Wendy’s eyes. Drawing strength from a soul she knew forever, she tried to speak again, this time slowly, eloquently, the pieces of a jigsaw coming together to form a picture.