Her roommate hates the door.

"It clicks." The shorter girl says, almost in afterthought.

Irene raises a curious brow, hums in acknowledgement despite the odd comment and turns the upper dial of the door to act as secondary protection.

"...It's noisy." She says as she inches towards it, eyes steady on the silver knob.

So this is her roommate; picky with sounds, Irene thinks, bringing the cup to her lips, discreetly observing the girl above the rim.

Light brown hair and relatively long in length, with a pout seemingly permanent on her lips. Her dark brown eyes share the same shade of her drink, never leaving the doorknob as she steps forward, nearing the doorway.

Irene drops the cup down so it rests close to her stomach, observes the other girl as her thumb rubs gently against the coated material that protects her hand from the heat of her drink.

Her roommate doesn't seem all that bad, despite the nitpicking. Irene has just moved in because her Satan of a friend said it was the only one available in the quiet neighborhood on 34^th street. Irene likes it so far, but she’s not quite sure about her roommate yet.

Irene had already placed her things on the left most side of the room; hoping her roommate wouldn't mind her having settled on a spot already, before having left to get coffee. The coffee shop just around the block was small and quaint, just how she likes it.

“But it’s not as loud as home,” the shorter girl mutters as she taps at the lock.

From the sounds of her roommate’s fascination with the door, the girl’s new too.

“Hey,” Irene calls out gently, walking towards her and hoping her greeting doesn’t frighten the girl off. She wouldn’t be surprised if she did, since she looks more eccentric than the average type. “I’m Joohyun,”

The stranger nods almost absently, glancing at her shortly before returning her gaze back to the door.

“Wendy.” The girl says, fiddling with the chain of the lock. “People don’t really like the sound of ‘Seungwan’ so I go by ‘Wendy’ instead.”

Irene ends up nodding to herself, considering that the girl isn’t even looking at her. She’s not really disturbed by the fact that the girl doesn’t pay much attention to her (which she’s grateful for because she’s usually the center everywhere else) and heads back to her luggage to unpack.

The apartment isn’t too small; they each have their own separate rooms and the living room space looks considerably big, though it may be due to the kitchen being open along with it.

She’s not too bothered by having a roommate. She had one before, but the previous girl always had boys over too and that had often led to disasters (too much ogling), and so Irene just got out.

This one seems quiet – sort of. And not much of a loves-boys-lots type of girl, from the looks of it. Irene doesn’t really mind whether she does or doesn’t, as long as her business stays her business.

Click, click, click, click.

Irene glances back at Seungwan, inwardly surprised that the girl is still in front of the door, twisting the lock so it’d open, before closing it again, and repeat.

She wonders if she should ask. She’s not bothered by the sounds (she has heard worse, like a boy and a girl alone in a bedroom – mixtures of screams and thumps) so she walks up to her again as she sips her drink.

“You okay?” Irene manages to ask from the rim of her cup. Seungwan looks normal really, except for the fact that her ear is against the door and her clear itch to repeat things over and over again.

Seungwan’s bubbly despite the oddness of everything.

“Superb,” Irene can’t tell if it’s sarcasm, but Seungwan looks as genuine as her mother when she’s going on about her favorite drama. “Don’t you like the sound?”

Irene blinks once, twice, before sipping her coffee again to fully process the question her roommate has just asked.

Her reply is tentative and unsure, but Seungwan doesn’t seem to notice it.

“…It’s nice,”

Seungwan’s brows perk up at her and after one more click, she stops. Irene’s actually rather surprised the girl is pulling away from the door. She was getting accustomed to having the girl practically attached to it like a second skin.

Irene’s slightly stunned when Seungwan begins to bow her head, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, I’m – um, I’m pretty weird, huh?”

She’s not sure she should answer; she’s rather curt, but honesty has always been the best policy.

“… Yeah,” Irene gauges the girl’s reaction to her words, though the girl doesn’t seem bothered at all. “Why is that?”

Irene doesn’t mean to come off as callous or anything, and thankfully the girl doesn’t take it to heart either, if she’s reading her right.

“I… um, I’m sensitive to sounds. Not in the ‘sensitive hearing’ sense like that – uh, superhero devil guy.” Irene raises a brow at the blush beginning to stain the shorter girl’s cheeks, “But – um, rather, it’s the type of sounds that I hear. Like, I only like sounds that ‘tick’ or ‘click’…”

“… Okay?”

Seungwan begins to tap on her wristwatch, a consecutive sequence of ticks coming off from the surface of its glass. Irene counts the length of time of each tap – one second – at a steady rhythmic pace.

Maybe this girl’s getting nervous.

“It’s, well, ‘normal’ noises to everyone else is – um, to me, it bothers me. And I, sometimes – most of the time, need to reign myself in and, um, as you can see…” she gestures to her wristwatch, still tapping on it. “Sounds like ‘ticks’ and ‘clicks’ keep me anchored.”

Irene is starting to understand. And it’s not that odd, now that she thinks about it. She just has a different way of coping with things, than most people.

“So your wristwatch…”

“… I tap on it because the ticks are familiar to me,” Seungwan looks relieved, and Irene has an inkling it has to do with her lack of reaction to the confession. “It blocks out the other noises,”

“Other noises?”

“… Like thoughts,” Seungwan mutters softly that Irene almost misses it, “I – um, I think a lot. I think things, then think it over, and start to overthink it again and again and – um,” she lowers her head so she’s staring at her watch, “I get lost in thinking…”

Irene knows it’s deeper than that, from the way Seungwan’s eyes are shifty beneath her fringe, to the incessant taps she continues to make on her watch.

She won’t probe any further. It’s not her business, anyway.

“Well,” Irene gives her a reassuring smile, something small and something she’s not quite fond of giving too often, but Seungwan’s okay. “It’s nice to meet you, Seungwan.”

“S-Seungwan?” Irene guesses she’s not called by that name very often.

Irene attempts to adapt to her roommate’s preference, “If that’s okay with you,” she continues as if in afterthought, “I don’t mind the sound of Seungwan.”

And she’s not sure why it affects her when Seungwan’s eyes shimmer in response, like she’s about to cry (and oh god, she hopes she’s not going to because she at comforting people) before Seungwan returns it with a tiny smile – “Yes, that’s okay. It’s still my name,” she finishes, before turning away to enter the kitchen.

The older girl furrows her brows at the odd reaction. It’s as if it’s the first time she’s been accepted for something as simple as a name.

Irene lifts her cup to finish the rest of her coffee. It’s gotten cold. She doesn’t even like coffee.

…She shouldn’t bother thinking so much. It’s none of her business anyway.

-

"Are you checking the lock again?" Irene asks absentmindedly – it’s the second day of living on 34^th street, typing away on her laptop; her lab report is due tomorrow but it’s always nice to be finished earlier than on the day of.

She can hear Seungwan moving the lock on the door, click, click, click.

"Y-yes…" Seungwan looks embarrassed once Irene takes a short glance at the smaller girl, her roommate sending back a sheepish smile before continuing on her little ritual.

Irene doesn’t see anything wrong with asking things, so she does. "Why?"

"Because it clicks,"

"Clicks?" Irene echoes after her, seeing Seungwan nod from her peripheral.

"Whatever clicks, it makes me tick."

Irene hums, remembering how Seungwan copes with ‘noises’. She kind of wonders how her thoughts go if it’s to the point that she has to distract herself with something else.

"Like a clock - tick tock tick tock - y'know?" Seungwan says after a minute, Irene knows because the clock on her laptop now says 9:09 PM instead of 9:08 PM.

"… I know," she nods to herself at her work, before sipping on a glass of milk. Now’s the time for proof reading.

Seungwan’s voice filters through the air, which is silent other than the clacking of her laptop and the clicking of the door. "If it clicks, I have to make sure it properly clicks."

"Properly clicks?” Irene parrots, pushing down several backspaces because a sentence doesn’t sit well with the rest. “…Why?"

"Because I can't go to bed if it doesn't properly click. What if someone waltzes in because it’s open?"

Irene should have expected her to be a bit OCD too, now that she thinks about it. She resumes her typing, taking short glances back to the shorter girl because she actually looks really worried about someone breaking in.

"No one will waltz in," she says, hopefully reassuring enough that Seungwan wouldn’t worry anymore, though she’s not surprised it doesn’t stop her from playing with the lock still.

"I'll just make sure,"

And it takes sixty seconds – Irene’s been watching Seungwan count in whispers –before she's finally satisfied, switching the tab on the knob so it locks for the 43^rd time.

When she flickers the light off in her respective room, Irene isn't surprised that Seungwan spends another minute switching it on and off, before finally coming to terms with the fact that it is indeed off.

“… Um,” Irene looks up from the living room, where she’s seated at the kitchen counter. Seungwan’s head is peeking out from the little slit of her door. “… G-good night, Joohyun.”

Irene smiles back, “Good night, Seungwan.” And Seungwan ducks her head, retreating back into her room, sliding the door shut.

Despite how… quirky, the girl is, Irene likes her presence. She’s glad she moved in. 

-

It’s been twelve days. Twelve days since she’s moved here, and Irene is enjoying herself. Quiet neighborhood, clean streets (relatively), and a great roommate; Irene wouldn’t have it any other way.

Seungwan’s adapting to the apartment too, considering she’s not as overly attentive with the lock on the door anymore, or the light switch in her room. Seungwan settles mostly now for the tapping on her wristwatch whenever she’s thinking. At least, that’s what Irene thinks anyway.

But was it really all just about thinking?

Sometimes she sees Seungwan be like any other person, especially when she’s cooking – and Irene can’t lie that the girl’s a great cook – that an outsider wouldn’t have guessed she had such a unique condition.

When Seungwan’s not wearing her wristwatch, she’s as normal as one could ever be. It’s also the time when Irene watches her the most (though she has been watching her an awful lot from the get-go, Seungwan’s always been interesting from the start) and notices the littlest of differences.

How Seungwan looks more calmer, relaxed, and more composed. She laughs more and talks more; confidence oozing like it has always been there, and happiness flits from her lips that Irene’s not convinced that she’s the same person.

But she is because she still shares that same shy smile and that same habit of hers to hide behind her fringe.

Irene likes this side of Seungwan, but she also likes her quirky part too. The clumsy half that can’t keep from stuttering and loves to count the sounds of the ticks and clicks she makes from the door lock or her wristwatch.

And frankly, she can write a report on her observations about Seungwan because most of the time she’s just sitting on the chair stool writing another lab report, and there’s really nothing much to see except Seungwan wandering about, whether she be in the kitchen cooking something or fiddling with the sounds again. The only time she’s ever somewhere else is at the coffee shop on early mornings or doing her laundry some time in the afternoon.

10:43 AM, Irene sees the blaring time on her laptop. She’ll hopefully be finished by 11 o’clock if there are no more edits to be done.

“Good morning, Joohyun.” Irene nods her head at the girl, giving a quick smile in return before getting back to her work.

Seungwan’s not wearing her wristwatch right now. She figures there’s not a lot to be worried about so far.

“’Morning,”

Irene hears the clatter of dishes and it makes her wonder why Seungwan’s more bothered by the sound of the door lock than the sound of, well, anything else. She wasn’t bothered by a lot of things, much to Irene’s surprise, such as the sound of running water, or the squeaking of the tap. Seungwan’s not even bothered by the ding of the toaster every morning or the tapping on her keyboard (Irene wonders if maybe Seungwan’s just tolerating it though).

But other than the chain lock on the door or her wristwatch, nothing else affected Seungwan at all. Maybe the sounds are too different?

“Did you eat yet?” Irene is startled at the sight of eggs and toast beside her laptop, Seungwan’s voice bubbly and light as she settles to sit across from her. “I hope not; we don’t eat together often even though we’re roommates.”

She should also mention that Seungwan doesn’t stutter much at all either when she’s like this.

“Oh,” How coherent, Irene thinks, before saving her work and setting it to the side. “Thanks, I haven’t eaten yet, actually.”

Seungwan’s smile is beaming before she munches on her own toast, the sounds of crunching now the only thing that plagues the room. Irene chews on her own and relishes in the taste of such a simple meal. She’s certainly thankful to have a roommate like Seungwan.

“I – um,” Irene’s brow rises infinitesimally. Seungwan’s stuttering? But she has no watch on, “Can I ask you something?”

Irene blinks the surprise away, nodding her head and ushering the girl to go on with a simple wave of her hand.

Seungwan’s head is bowing low a little, like she’s trying to hide her eyes behind her bangs. Her voice comes out small. “How come you’re tolerating me?”

The taller girl is impressed she doesn’t choke on her food, coughing a bit instead and swallowing hard before staring at Seungwan like she has on the wrong light bulb in her head.

Seungwan’s apologizing.

“S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to make you choke, I-I was just wondering why you’re still here, is all…”

“… Do you not want me here?”

Seungwan’s shaking her head so fast that Irene’s afraid the girl will give herself whiplash.

“No! No, no no no, not at all! I – um,” the table plays as Seungwan’s new wristwatch, the other girl now beginning to tap her finger against the wood. “…I was just, well, I’m just surprised you haven’t left me yet…” Seungwan makes herself look smaller than she already does, shrinking back like she’ll get hit for even saying what’s on her mind.

Irene frowns. The girl shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“Why would I leave you?”

Seungwan’s smile is wry, almost as if she wants to laugh at the question. Her voice comes out weak and tiny.

“… Why wouldn’t you?” Irene glances at Seungwan’s tapping finger, and Seungwan catches her line of sight and attempts to stop herself, pressing down on her hand with the other. “… See? Doesn’t it bother you…?”

Irene bites into her toast then, as if taking the time to contemplate, but her eyes never leave Seungwan’s and she watches the girl shrink further into herself, her brown pools now hidden behind curtains of light auburn hair.

She swallows before saying something, finally collecting her thoughts into words she knows she wants to say.

“If it did, I would have left a long time ago.” And it’s true. Irene’s not the type to stick around if it was hindering her in some way. But that’s not the case with Seungwan. It never was. “What does bother me is how you can think like that.”

If Seungwan could look any smaller than she already was, she’s doing it now. Her shoulders are curled in, light chestnut hair falling over her face, with her hands no longer above the table but Irene can still hear the constant tapping of wood.

Irene’s not the type to hold back on her words though, because why wouldn’t she be blunt about how she feels?

“… It’s just…” Seungwan’s voice is small, barely audible that Irene has to lean forward slightly from where she sits. “… People don’t like it, the sounds I make.” Irene keeps mum as Seungwan continues on, the shorter girl biting her lips to keep them from quivering. “They say it’s – well, annoying.” Seungwan’s hands are slowly crawling back up the table, and Irene can see Seungwan’s hiding them beneath her long sleeves, a single finger evidently peeking out to keep the noise constant. “Same with, um – this stuttering, well – and broken, speech of mine.”

Irene hums, nodding her head, but keeps her eyes on Seungwan because the girl looks so fragile and it’s a wonder why it affects her so. The taller girl understands her predicament; some people just can’t tolerate constant noise – preferring peace and quiet. And some find it as annoying as the screeching of chalkboard.

“That’s… that’s why I thought, um, that you were thinking of leaving, being so quiet and all…” Irene raises a brow and she wonders if she’s imagining the faint red in Seungwan’s cheeks. “… So I thought I’d – um, give you a way out. Let you go?”

She gets it. It makes sense, considering she’s not the type to talk much; never talking about herself. But that’s not entirely why she’s silent.

Irene finishes the last bits of her toast, swallowing it whole before wiping off whatever crumbs were left behind.

“I like it,” Irene says after some time, Seungwan looking up as fast as she did then, making Irene wonder if the girl had just given herself a broken neck, “The sounds you make. I keep quiet so I can listen to them,” – because they’re a constant and that’s comforting. Irene’s eyes have never left Seungwan’s face even as she pushes her plate away and settles her laptop in front of her again. “So no, I’m not planning to leave, and I’m not about to start now either.” Irene opens the screen but Seungwan’s eyes are still visible above the rim, her brown pools peeking out from the curtains of her fringe. “You’ll just have to get used to me,”

Irene starts typing away at her laptop, clack clack clack, not because she wants to do the rest of her report (but she will because she should), but because she knows the silence that comes afterwards would be too overbearing to hear (Seungwan has stopped tapping on the table and that just means she’s done thinking – and she can’t predict what will happen) and Irene’s too used to sounds being present that she just has to type the quiet away.

She’s acutely aware of the sound of Seungwan’s chair screeching lightly against the floor, she’s moving, but Irene has no clue where she’s going. But before Irene registers the fact that her hands have stopped pressing the keys to her laptop, Seungwan’s touching her back, palms resting against her, her hands trembling (she can feel the shaking of her fingers) and Irene knows this is as close to a hug as Seungwan will give her.

They were never the touchy type of roommates, not because Irene didn’t want it – she was sure to keep Seungwan’s space though, but because she was unsure of whether it was okay to. Seungwan probably thought the same.

Irene can feel Seungwan’s finger begin their tapping, and it’s soft and silent – it makes no noise, but she can feel Seungwan’s relief from the mere touch of her palms. They’re warm against her sweater.

… And then Seungwan’s mouth is against the space between the back of her shoulders, the words burning through her sweater that Irene can feel the heat grazing her skin.

It’s a mere whisper but it’s so loud amidst the quiet.

“… I won’t be able to let you go if you’re going to be like this,” it was a straight sentence, and Irene’s taken aback at how delicate she sounds – and hopeful. “… Don’t be like this to me, please…”

Seungwan sounds so used to being left behind and it twists something in Irene’s chest.

Irene combs back stray strands of her dark hair, inwardly sighing at the wreck of jumbled feelings and thoughts and frustration because geez, I’m going softer than a soft pillow. But she has always been soft with Seungwan from day 1, and that’s kind of terrifying.

She doesn’t get what’s going on with her – because why is the sound of her heart so loud that it echoes in her ears – but Irene hopes that it’s nothing overly horrifying.

“Get used to it,” Irene wants to sound cold and firm but it’s coming off as gentle and tender instead, “And don’t let go. It’s not like I’ll be complaining anyway,” she’s trying so hard to be indifferent with her words but her tone of voice is at the opposite end of the spectrum.

And tentatively, Seungwan’s hands stop trembling and her forehead presses against her back – Irene can hear it. The sound of the girl’s tears as it drops onto her sweater, but nothing comes out of . She can imagine Seungwan’s lips quivering again, trying to muffle the sound of sobs – feels Seungwan’s hope seep into her skin, a spot on her sweater getting wet.

Irene stays where she is, perched on their stool chair, no longer bothering to type away because she wants to listen to Seungwan’s relief – and it’s sad that she’s relieved at something like this, something as simple as someone who’s willing to stay, Irene thinks, and it’s tragic.

She won’t turn around because Seungwan has a death grip on her and she doesn’t want to see the girl so broken, so she sits still and listens to the muffled cries that escape shaky lips.

Irene wants to be her pillar, but she can’t do that if she gets torn – feel like she’s cracking – seeing Seungwan like this. So she doesn’t.

-

Wendy had been terrified at the prospect of a roommate. And rightly so, considering she had such an… interesting condition.

It doesn’t show up very often, at least, not at school. When she’s in class, her mind is at rest because there’s music being played and music keeps her from thinking. Whether the students were singing, or playing an instrument, it was a place Wendy loved most – because it silenced the noise.

Being a music student, she was passionate in singing and enjoyed playing the guitar. But she only ever sings and strums strings at school, not at home. It’s because she’s afraid that if she does, the noises will get louder and if it gets louder at home, then she’ll never be able to go back.

And that was why she moved. She tried to block away the noises so much that her own home became the very thing she was afraid of. So Seulgi, sweet bear-like Seulgi, helped out with her move and now she was here, in a quiet apartment on 34^th street.

“I’m Joohyun,”

Pretty. Very pretty, with dark hair and white skin akin to the famous – or infamous, horror movie character that made long awful groaning sounds that Wendy feared so much and – oh god, she’ll be living with the Grudge?! – she should stop thinking about it. Really.

… Oh god she hoped she wouldn’t die in her sleep.

She had kept herself close to the door, distracting herself from such terrifying thoughts with the lock; it helped. Twelve, Wendy counted in her head, continuing on her little habit. Turn it open. Then close it again. And repeat.

“People don’t really like the sound of ‘Seungwan’ so I go by ‘Wendy’ instead.”

She was trying to familiarize the sound of the lock; it was slightly quieter than her previous home, but not excruciatingly so that it was hard to hear. She wanted to engrave the sound in her head, memorize the click; click, click, click – fifteen, before leaving the door. It had a nice tick to it.

Wendy had been terrified at the prospect of a roommate.

But once she saw Joohyun – similar to the movie character in appearance that it truthfully startled her when she walked through the door – and heard her words, “I don’t mind the sound of Seungwan,” she wasn’t so terrified anymore.

-

It’s been 22 days since they’ve been living together.

They don’t go to school together, even though they attend the same one; Joohyun’s building is on the other side of the campus, and their schedules don’t mesh well to begin with. That’s why it’s rare to see Joohyun in the mornings, since she’s almost always off to school by the time Wendy’s up and getting ready for her classes, or sometimes even in the evenings when Joohyun’s too tired by the end of the day and heads straight to her room.

But when Wendy does see her in the mornings or evenings, Joohyun’s on her laptop, typing away on her keyboard and sipping a cup of coffee like always.

Wendy sometimes wonders if she’s annoying Joohyun.

Sometimes, when her head starts thinking more than it should, she heads to the lock on the door and plays with it; turning the dial open, then close. It keeps the noise to a mere hum, and she has to keep it going until she memorizes the sound so she can play it in her head on repeat without it anymore.

Joohyun’s such a quiet girl.

Wendy’s afraid she’s bothering her but every time she starts thinking that way, her mind wanders back to the 12^th day, with eyes so piercing Wendy thought she was reading the noises in her head. “The sounds you make. I keep quiet so I can listen to them,”

… And there’s that weird gnawing feeling again. Something primal and warm and tight squeezing its way into her heart and settling there, leaving burns and tattooing its mark with every beat. It makes her chest heavy with thoughts and ears filled with the pounding rhythm and –

– there’s noise again.

Wendy settles for the tapping on her wristwatch, one, two, three, hoping the beating of her heart lessens so her eardrums won’t be crushed and her thoughts would stop picturing Joohyun all the time. She doesn’t even understand why.

The noises that terrified her used to be about home – about her mom and dad, her friends who left her because she was; just so loud, about passing strangers who; just had enough of her sounds, get lost, and everything else that hurt her; go away, weirdo.

Eight, nine, ten…

But now the noise is just Joohyun – sweet, quiet, Joohyun. Her precious roommate; you’ll just have to get used to me, Joohyun.

“I didn’t know which one you liked more, so…” Joohyun’s smile is tired and droopy and lazy and gentle, as she drops a bag of chocolates in her hand, cradling hers so it could balance better; Ferrero’s. “… Here you go, because I like it and you should too.” Before tousling Wendy’s hair with a hand, tender and sweet, and moving on to hang her jacket on the coatrack.

And when Joohyun shows up with a side like that, oh god what number am I on, thirteen? It makes the noise harder to ignore. Joohyun was better off being just quiet – for Wendy’s sake. And this noise – this noise filled with just Joohyun, is every bit more terrifying than the ones before.

Because it’s terrifying just how much she likes thinking about Joohyun and how she makes her feel.

Wendy continues to tap on her watch, mindful of the chocolates still in her grip.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…

-

“How’s the apartment?”

Irene plays with the spoon in her cup, the coffee stench wafting through her nose and it keeps her awake. It’s still too hot to drink, but it’s not like she likes it anyway.

“Good, my roommate isn’t bad either.”

Satan – Joy (Sooyoung), as she preferred to be called, grins so wide it stretches from ear to ear. Irene doesn’t want to hear what comes out next from .

“Is she cute?” Her brows are dancing on her face, up and down, over and over again, like that famous song going around lately. Irene shrugs, lifting the spoon to have a taste of it.

…Yeah, she hates coffee. And it’s still hot.

Sooyoung is mumbling as she taps on her cup, a frown on her lips. “What, so she’s not cute?” Irene attempts to shrug again but Sooyoung is having none of it, taking her cup away before Irene could even dip her spoon back in. “And why do you keep ordering coffee when you don’t even like it?”

Sooyoung takes a sip of it before she immediately retracts her hand to settle it back on the table, fanning away, ignoring the way Irene laughs at her.

Irene slides it back to her side and runs a thumb across its rim.

“She’s…” Sooyoung looks on as if expecting something interesting to come out of , “… normal.”

“… Normal.” Sooyoung deadpans, the excitement oozing off just as quickly as it came on.

Irene nods, knowing the term carries far more than what was just on the surface. Sooyoung doesn’t need to know that, though.

“And I drink coffee because I hate it.” Sooyoung raises a brow and Irene attempts to take a sip. Hm, just a little longer. “So it keeps me awake,”

They say nothing else after that, enjoying the Saturday afternoon in the little coffee shop just around the corner. The window is large enough that it covers a whole side of the café, so every table has a chance to just look out and stare at the red and orange leaves that were falling onto the street.

Sooyoung wanted a quick hangout before she left for work, and because Joohyun needed a break from another report, she went with her. Seungwan had given her a short smile and a wave of goodbye, “See you later,” before the taller girl walked out. And that was it.

So Irene doesn’t know why it’s still in her head. Replaying that scene again and again. Why was she even thinking about her?

“Can’t you just keep quiet?!”

“S-Sorry!”

Irene immediately turns to the familiar voice, watching Seungwan squeak at a man who’s a head taller than her. The shorter girl is attempting to stop her hands from tapping on the wooden table but when she begins to tap on her watch instead, the man is yelling at her again.

“What are you, retarded? Can’t you just keep your hands still?!”

The man looks much older than her, with specks of white hair growing out on the sides of his head. His table is just right next to Seungwan’s, so it’s not surprising he’d be able to hear her tapping.

“Hey, what went up that guy’s ?” Sooyoung’s voice barely registers in her head as she watches the man roll up his newspaper, his gaze locked on Seungwan’s hands.

Irene knows the rest of the café are silent in their watching, waiting with bated breaths as the man now towers over Seungwan, the girl looking as small as she must’ve felt at that moment.

Something cracks in her mind and makes everything red at the sight of Seungwan flinching from his movement, the pounding of her heart painfully loud and aching in her ears.

Her chair screeches beneath her, and her steps are firm and calculating, three, two, one – she vaguely hears Sooyoung’s, “Wait, what are you –” before she slings her drink at the man, watching him screech at the hot liquid burning his face. Irene can hear the occupants in the room gasp as he stumbles backwards, breaking a table on the way down.

Irene settles her glass cup calmly on Seungwan’s table, the shorter girl stunned into silence at what had just happened as Irene ushers her up by the elbow. She can hear Sooyoung follow closely behind as she drags Seungwan out of the café and away from judging eyes.

Seungwan’s thinking again, from the way her finger is tapping on her forearm as she holds onto her, Seungwan’s cheek pressing up against her shoulder. But the constant motion clears Irene’s head and takes away the red from her eyes, soothing her heart into a softer pattern.

She hates coffee anyway.