Irene's used to not sleeping.

 

When the clock ticks by above the refrigerator, the hands telling her it's 12:55 AM, Irene goes back to clacking fingers away on her laptop.

 

She should be accustomed to losing sleep – she had been for the past year (almost two, now); what was a measly one evening?

 

Irene clucks her tongue at the gibberish she's typed up in a word document that has nothing important, the mixtures of letters that don't spell out any comprehensive word bothering her slightly – it was an obvious sign that she misses the noise.

 

She's supposed to be used to a quiet apartment (her former roommate was barely present except for the nights she had her bed partners over), but it's irksome to not hear the clicks of the door lock or the ticks of a wristwatch.

 

It bothers her how spending a few months with Seungwan makes her so attached to things normally not found to be charmingly endearing.

 

Irene taps away the silence, watching sentences of things made up of letters and numbers form paragraphs to steer away the fact that the quiet reminds her of Seungwan. Her eyes flit to her cellphone just beside her, dismayed at the lack of a notification.

 

Irene pretends it doesn't bother her that Seungwan forgot. It shouldn't really matter anyway – it's just a goodnight, don't be dramatic.

 

But her fingers ache to touch her: to hold her and drown around warmth that helped her sleep at night. Seungwan had replaced nightmares for dreams where eye bags didn’t lurk against her skin anymore. Had she always been this dependent?

 

Irene's supposed to be used to not sleeping. What’s wrong with her?

 

Her eyes take note of the time on the screen – it's almost 1 AM, before glancing back at her silent phone.

 

It's okay, she thinks. She forgets things too. Besides, it's not like it was important. Really. Irene’s heard it plenty of nights before; how Seungwan's tongue would curl along each syllable before she's pressing against her, wrapped up beneath the sheets and in her arms, mumbling along her skin “Goodnight,” before tapping noises away on her back. Irene remembers counting in her head the number Seungwan always ended at – 43.

 

Her fingers twitch at the memory; it’s almost like Seungwan’s tapping digits away with how her back feels like it’s tingling under memory hands.

 

Clack clack clack clack clack clack.

 

She needs a distraction.

 

“Are you bored too?”

 

Irene glances at the bear seated next to her, its beady black eyes motionless – typical of a stuffed animal. Her eyes catch the clock on her laptop screen, 1:00 AM.

 

Silence is the closest she’s got to an approval.

 

“Same.” Wry laughter spills between her lips, patting its soft furry head. “Want to clean with me?”

 

She rises on tired legs that have gotten sick of sitting around waiting for a voice she’s used to hearing every night, plucking the bear off its chair and carrying it over her shoulders. Irene feels a smile come along at the pressure of soft fur against her head, closing her laptop shut before sauntering over to her room.

 

There was no use feeling down about it. After all, it was better to use disappointment as an energy source for productivity than letting it turn her into a motionless sack of a ragdoll (Irene admits she’s disappointed, but with acknowledgement comes getting over it – this shouldn’t be any different).

 

Once she’s set the bear on a stool near her vanity mirror, Irene goes about cleaning her room. Textbooks and notebooks take up shelves along the wall, scattered papers crumpled and torn get thrown into the trash bin beside the door, and clothes that have only been worn once get folded and set aside on her study desk.

 

The bed gets made so it’s finally presentable, keeping in mind that Seungwan might wander off into her room again to sleep (Seungwan was probably too shy to wake her up or something).

 

Gathering the laundry basket and hanging the bear against her shoulders again, Irene goes to fetch Seungwan’s batch of dirty clothes too, knowing that the sound of a washing machine and dryer would be perfect noises to keep her company throughout the night. The smell of clean laundry was always a plus anyway.

 

Her fingers don’t forget to take her phone with her.

 

“Ready to watch clothes roll around to get cleaned?” She asks the bear, keeping a steady hand against its back so it wouldn’t fall, well too aware that she’s been talking to a stuffed animal. “Yeah? Me too.”

 

She’s about to head downstairs of their apartment when her pocket vibrates and it startles her hand into digging through, fumbling for the bear to stay latched onto her neck at the same time. Irene doesn’t read the caller ID, her head already registering the one call she’s been expecting when she taps the answer button.

 

“Hello?”

 

There’s a certain happy chirp to her voice; she wonders if Seungwan could hear it. Irene’s sort of embarrassed about it – she’s not supposed to be this easy to read; since when did she become this excited jumble of goo? 

 

“Irene unnie?”

 

She almost chokes out of surprise, coughing it out instead and readjusting her hold on her phone.

 

“Yerim? Is something wrong?”

 

Irene makes careful steps down the flight of stairs, keeping the bear steady on her shoulders and the basket pressed against her stomach. She can’t believe she had been quick to assume that it was Seungwan – a phone call was open to anyone.

 

“Oh n-no, I just…” she hears crackles of shuffling paper, taking note of Yerim’s odd stutter. Was she nervous? “… I just thought you’d be asleep already.”

 

Curiosity crawls along her mind as she sets the basket down before leaning against a table with Seungwan’s teddy bear idling beside her. Her fingers comb along its furry white head.

 

“Why?”

 

Yerim giggles.

 

“It’s already 1 in the morning, unnie.”

 

“Oh.” She didn’t think time would move so slowly – it was oddly faster when Seungwan was around. “Then shouldn’t you be asleep already?”

 

“I… I can’t.”

 

A frown already lines her lips, brows quick to furrow at Yerim’s nervous voice. She’s not used to hearing Yerim sound so unsure – so lost.

 

“What? Why? Is there something I could—”

 

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

 

freezes at Yerim’s tiny whisper, like she was embarrassed to say it out loud. It wouldn’t surprise her though. Even when they were dating Yerim wasn’t the type to tell her how she felt. Not with words anyway, and neither was Irene herself.

 

“You didn’t pick up before, so I thought it’d be the same today too…”

 

Right, Yerim had called before on that same night Seungwan had kissed her when she thought she was asleep. But she had been so distracted by her roommate’s behavior that she had forgotten to give Yerim a call back to ask what she needed.

 

Irene feels horrible, combing back her hair, sighing with an apology dancing along her tongue. Yerim shouldn't have to settle for just hearing her voicemail.

 

“I’m sorry, I was asleep then and—”

 

“I know.” Yerim sounds like she’s twiddling with some sort of cloth – maybe her pillow with the way it shuffles through the receiver. “I was counting on it.”

 

Irene stares up at the dark brown stain that had been stuck onto the ceiling ever since she started living here, a puzzle of “Why’s” trickling along at Yerim’s words but not one of them comes out. She still remembers how she had told Yerim to call her whenever she needed her – even if it was just to hear her voice.

 

“Then I guess you get to hear a different message from me so early in the morning, hm?”

 

Yerim’s giggles are happy and light, like relief bleeds between her teeth and a weight is off her shoulders that Irene can’t help but feel just as free too.

 

“I guess so, unnie.”

 

They talk about what they used to do together: they share memories of holding hands, walking through the rain, sharing coffee kisses with red lipstick, and combing hands through each other’s hair, that Irene’s surprised it doesn’t hurt to think about them as much anymore – that it doesn’t hurt to hear about how much they used to work.

 

At least, not compared to how it hurts to not hear from home.

 

Was Seungwan sleeping well? Did she at least eat dinner? What if she was having a nightmare? What if she needed to count the noises away and her watch wasn’t enough? Seulgi would be there though. Irene was sure Seulgi could help; Seulgi would know what to do, wouldn’t she? But what if it was really bad? Damn it, she wouldn’t be there to—

 

“Who is it?”

 

Irene’s startled by the question, her mind hasty to wipe away clouds of Seungwan, her lips quick to answer.

 

“What?”

 

“The one who makes you think about them even when I’m still here.”

 

Yerim’s voice gives nothing away even when she’s made a mark right on the center; almost like she’s known all along and it tugs at her chest that Yerim would know something she doesn’t.

 

“No it’s nothing, it’s just…” Irene’s well aware of Yerim’s innate ability to read her – the younger girl just seemed to know how she worked. “…I’m worried if Seungwan could handle herself.”

 

Yerim’s silence unnerves her; she wonders if she’s said something wrong. She was genuinely concerned for her roommate – was that bad?

 

“She’s a grown woman, Irene unnie. I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

 

“I know. I mean, it’s just a sleepover, but we haven’t spent a night without each other before and I’m worried that—”

 

“Unnie?”

 

Irene attempts to adjust to Yerim’s abrupt change in tone, almost wistful. Like she was smiling over the phone but there was a tinge of sadness that managed to carry over too.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Yerim’s whisper is so soft even when the phone is right against her ear and the washing machine has yet to start; she hasn’t begun doing the laundry yet.

 

“You make it sound like you can’t live without her.”

 

At best, words made dents against her skin so they’d tingle, but this made her lose her balance against the table, stumbling sideways and fumbling over the phone so it wouldn’t drop. The bear had fallen from her stuttered movements, picking it up to dust off the dirt that managed to latch onto its white fur.

 

Her chest is annoyingly loud in her ears, her ribcage rattling from each pounding beat; her bones under tremors from Yerim’s words that sound like a truth Irene had yet to know.

 

And now she does and it makes her vision go blue: the color of Seungwan’s roommate ‘couple-shirt’, the apron she wears every time she's in the kitchen, the curtain in their bathroom that Seungwan adores so much, the sheets that keep them warm at night, and the blue dress she had fixed for Seungwan’s fluffy, white, teddy bear.

 

"I - wha, no that's not—"

 

"I'm just kidding, unnie."

 

Yerim's giggles sound delicate despite her words, almost like she was trembling to keep herself together. Guilt eats at Irene's tongue, forming syllables already even when her mind hasn't made up what to say.

 

"Yerim—"

 

"Why did you fall in love with me?"

 

Irene has to juggle her phone again, winded by her blunt question, breathing in relief when it doesn't meet the floor like her jaw does. Yerim had always been the type to dart around left and right with her topics of conversation. It shouldn't have been much of a surprise.

 

"I don't know why..." She starts, her voice going quieter, shy for needing to leap back in her memories of a time she had been painfully happy. "I just knew that I did by how you reeked of coffee every single time I saw you and I still wanted to kiss you."

 

Yeri's laughter is bright and happy; something that sounds so rare from the younger girl lately and Irene is relieved to hear it again.

 

"Remember how we went shopping for lipstick?"

 

Irene remembers. There were too many to count but she knew well enough which in particular Yerim was referring to. Especially when her voice went just a dip lower, almost hushed like it was a secret.

 

Irene hums in response, her "Mhm," breaking along a short silence before Yerim is speaking again.

 

"I wanted you to kiss me for every shade of lipstick I made you wear."

 

She remembers having tried on 16 different shades; not one of them being “Up to par,” as Yerim had claimed. But why was she telling her this now?

 

Irene is about to ask, call out why Yerim suddenly sounded like she was missing what they had been when Yerim maneuvers out of it much like how she made it look so easy to leave her a year ago.

 

"It's getting late, unnie. Go sleep, okay?"

 

And just like always, Irene can’t help but listen.

 

"You too. It's way past your bedtime."

 

Yeri's yawn makes her smile. She hears what should've been Seungwan's words instead.

 

"Goodnight, Irene unnie."

 

"Goodnight Yerim."

 

When she clicks her phone shut, noting the time to only be 1:40 AM, Irene goes back to her original plan of doing the laundry.

 

She's supposed to be used to not sleeping. This shouldn't be any different.

 

This won't be any different.

 

But as Irene settles next to the fluffy white bear, combing its soft fur, watching time tick by on her phone as the sound of tumbling laundry keeps her company, she knows she's not fooling anyone – especially not herself.

 

-

 

Wendy's not used to waking up without that signature scent of vanilla and lavender.

 

It takes a moment for her to realize it's coconut, sweet and soft, much like the arms that are secured around her. Whiffs of orange filter through the closer she gets, snuggling deeper – attempting to find what she's so used to waking up to in the morning.

 

"Are you trying to burrow a hole, Wen?"

 

Seulgi's voice is feather light, covered under mists of a groggy morning, how her tone carries raspy giggles. Wendy's all too aware of the difference for this particular morning.

 

With Joohyun, it always had a lingering air of awkward intimacy even when they've been living together for so long; something so palpable underneath their muted touches that most times, it felt like all they were missing was a good morning kiss (which Wendy would always give as long as Joohyun was asleep – to her forehead or cheek of course). Wendy always pretended not to see how Joohyun sometimes looked like she would.

 

But with Seulgi, even if it had been months since their last sleepover together, familiarity colored their every movement. Even now, Wendy can tell how it feels like nothing's changed – that Seulgi's arms along her waist feels as comfortable as it had been the last time they were like this. How Seulgi's fingers comb across her hair – even how it was done, there was a subtle difference.

 

Seulgi's fingers caressed her like she finally found her. Joohyun's felt like they were lost because of her.

 

How could that be?

 

“Still sleepy?”

 

Wendy only nods to Seulgi’s gentle hand, how it curls behind her ear and flutters fingers through her locks, cuddling closer so her nose is cradled against Seulgi’s neck. It’s soothing – she swears she could fall asleep again to her touch.

 

“What time is it?” She mutters against Seulgi’s skin, tired eyes keeping closed because the warmth is just so much more comfortable to stay in.

 

“It’s almost 1 in the afternoon.”

 

That made her jump, startled at how late it was already – was she that exhausted? Did they really sleep that late? What about breakfast? Lunch?

 

“Did you eat already?” Wendy asks hurriedly, already attempting to slip out of the bed to make food – how could she have missed such an important meal of the day?

 

Seulgi’s hand clutches her wrist, feeling her pull her back gently.

 

“No, but I did try to make food…”

 

Wendy could’ve sworn her eyes had fallen out if it weren’t for the fact that she could still see Seulgi and that nervous smile she had on her face. She was just about to ask her if she had burned down the kitchen when Seulgi laughs at her like her expression told her a joke.

 

“They actually don’t taste that bad.” Seulgi attempts to reassure her.

 

She feels skeptical, especially when Seulgi places a tray on her lap with a plate filled with oddly shaped…things. Wendy pokes at a lump with a fork, scrutinizing its texture.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Pancakes.”

 

That would explain the softness. It also gives its weird shapes some loose judgment since pancakes don’t have to have a certain structure. Despite the logic playing in her head, Wendy still hesitates when Seulgi pours syrup over the lumps of ‘pancakes’.

 

“Ready?”

 

Wendy’s not sure if she will ever be (she remembers how much of a disaster Seulgi was in the kitchen – a reason that made her so used to being there that it carried over for Joohyun too) and somehow, deep down, she has this gnawing feeling in her gut that Seulgi knows exactly what she’s doing, especially since she has on this teasing grin with eyes that practically sparkled in amused anticipation.

 

Breathing in, Wendy pops a tiny piece into , chewing slowly in case there were any surprises. Her brows gradually loosened their crinkles, her face relaxing out of relief that yes, it was edible; and it actually wasn’t that bad.

 

“Told you!” Seulgi happily grins beside her, nudging her side.

 

Wendy elbows her back, a proud smile climbing along her lips.

 

They eat together, the oddly shaped pancakes no longer feeling weird to look at. It seemed to carry a charm only Seulgi had and it was cute the more Wendy stared at it.

 

“Nice to have brunch once in awhile, huh?” Seulgi says, as if thinking out loud and Wendy is reminded of Joohyun.

 

She remembers how they had eaten like this before, in bed, with scrambled eggs and toast. Now she’s here, with Seulgi, and the difference makes her think – makes her realize how they’re so similar yet so contrasting.

 

Isn’t this how it’s supposed to be? That she’s – that Wendy, is supposed to be right here, next to Seulgi? They didn’t need to pretend to be friends when they could be something more – when that was what they were supposed to be, all along.

 

Her fingers automatically search for the anchor on her wrist.

 

Tick. Tick. Tick – three,

 

That’s right. This is how it’s supposed to be – no Joohyun.

 

“I want to make up for all the lost time we've had when I forgot how much I loved you.”

 

“I – what?”

 

Seulgi looks like she’s about to topple over the tray if it wasn’t for Wendy’s hand gripping hard against the latch, her skin going white.

 

This is how it should be, she thinks again – no Joohyun.

 

Wendy knows it’s sudden, but the words continue to spill from her lips. She can’t take them back – she won’t, not when this is how it’s supposed to be all along. Wendy wants to make things right – she needs to make things right again. She has to.

 

Tick. Tick. Tick – six,

 

“It hasn't been fair for you at all has it?” Her tongue forms syllables faster than her heart could tell her to stop. “And besides, you asked me to give us a chance. So why can't I take it?”

 

(“Now I wish you would give us a chance, but I’d be better off lying, wouldn’t I?”)

 

Seulgi looks startled – almost frightened at her conviction. Wendy couldn’t blame her; she’s sort of scared herself. But this was the right thing to do. No more pretending. Right?

 

“I-I'm not forcing you to love me again—”

 

“And you're not, Seul.” She intercepts quickly, attempting to regain her previous persona – her false confidence bleeding through. “I'm trying to learn it again.”

 

Tick. Tick. Tick – nine,

 

Wendy doesn’t realize how the air is thick with her ticking (every count on her watch felt like each word she’s said was a lie) until Seulgi hands her palm out. She recognizes the gesture immediately; just as fast as she had noticed that she had woken up without the scent of vanilla and lavender.

 

Wendy remembers Joohyun.

 

“N-No it’s okay, Seul.”

 

The stutter comes out as a reflection of the tremor in her chest, she’s sure, especially when all she hears is Joohyun’s voice – her sweet, soft, quiet, voice.

 

“Come on, I want to help.”

 

Seulgi nudges her gently again, almost as if she was hesitating, but Wendy can’t think past the fact that she’s suddenly craving for Joohyun’s skin beneath her fingertip and not the comfort of her watch’s glass.

 

“It...that makes me think of Joohyun.” And I’m supposed to be thinking about you, right? Wendy doesn’t say it out loud – she’s not sure if she should.

 

Seulgi’s supposed to be all she sees, all she hears, all she feels, all she smells, all she tastes; it was always Seulgi – that was how it was supposed to be.

 

“If it helps to think about her, then that's okay.” Seulgi mumbles, tapping Wendy’s nose gently.

 

Wendy attempts to blink away pictures of Joohyun when Seulgi is the one in front of her. Why must her roommate blur her eyes with thoughts of her?

 

“Seul...”

 

The taller girl takes her ticking hand, gently placing it over her palm; Wendy recognizes the feel of warm skin beneath her own (the act done so often by her roommate).

 

But it’s not Joohyun’s.

 

“I'll be okay if you think about her – if thinking about her helps clear these noises away.” Seulgi mutters as she shuffles closer to Wendy. “I'll be okay if you think of her when you're kissing me, if you think of her when you're holding me.”

 

Wendy stares at the way Seulgi smiles at her: small, wistful, but trying. She wants to tell Seulgi that she doesn’t have to be happy all the time; that she doesn’t have to always pretend that she’s all right.

 

“I'll be okay if you're thinking of her when you tell me you love me too.”

 

Love? For Joohyun? No, it can’t be – she’s not supposed to.

 

“Seul, I don't—”

 

“So it's okay to think of her,” Seulgi goes on like she never heard her, curling auburn behind Wendy’s ear. “Just as long as you can tell me that one day, you won't need to count me away anymore.”

 

Seulgi seems to know how she’s struggling; how much Joohyun takes up every image behind her eyes so she could replace the pain. Wendy admits that thinking of Joohyun helps; she’s known that for a while now – it doesn’t hurt to think about Joohyun as much as it hurts to think about Seulgi.

 

But that’s not how things are supposed to work; she’s not supposed to find comfort in Joohyun, she’s not supposed to be in love with Joohyun (oh god it must be love – her heart shakes just thinking about her), just as much as she’s not supposed to be Seungwan.

 

So Wendy grabs at Seulgi’s collar, pulls her in so she could kiss her again – kiss her more, feel her more, hear her groan. Wendy tries to pretend she’s not in love with Joohyun.

 

Wendy’s fingers can’t help but leave a dead honest touch that tells even herself that she was feeling for someone else. Wendy could tell in the way she’s searching, how her hands fumble under Seulgi’s clothes, almost like she were looking for Joohyun who was lost behind Seulgi’s skin.

 

She kisses Seulgi again and again, tasting for a flavor not there – desperate for that scent of vanilla and lavender (but all she smells is coconut and orange – they’re so different). Her mind is telling her that this is how it’s supposed to be – to have Seulgi under her fingertips; to have Seulgi kissing her, but Wendy can’t help but dig. She can’t help but scrape against the surface, tear away the skin and look for someone who isn’t there.

 

But this is close enough. Seulgi looks like Joohyun – sort of; that should make it easier. Once ‘Seungwan’ gets used to it, she’ll be ‘Wendy’ in no time. She has to be.

 

It was always about ‘Wendy’. Wendy was all that mattered – all that anyone really cared about.

 

So she’ll be Wendy.

 

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

 

She kisses Seulgi filled with “I love you's” across delicate skin, camouflaging her love for Joohyun in hues of pink and red on someone else’s lips.

 

(“I don’t mind the sound of Seungwan.”)

 

She’ll be ‘Wendy’ even if ‘Seungwan’ was the only one Joohyun ever knew.

 

After all, it didn’t matter if Seungwan was in love with Joohyun. She wasn’t the one who mattered.

 

-

 

Sooyoung had called Irene about picking up some things she had left behind. Irene knew it had been quite awhile since she'd been at her place; she couldn't recall forgetting anything. And why would it matter now anyway?

 

Running on no sleep and a single cup of cold coffee (that she still very much hates to drink) with a fluffy white stuffed teddy bear sitting comfortably over her shoulders, Irene shuffles through Sooyoung's apartment door, scowling at the various layers of clothing strewn about on the floor.

 

The mess has her grumbling, steadying the toy with a hand against its back and a stronger grip on her half-filled drink.

 

"This place looks like Yerim's bedroom."

 

She hears Sooyoung snort to her left along with clanking metal, smelling whiffs of burning food wafting through her nose and Irene wonders how Sooyoung could still be a terrible cook since the last time she's been over at her place a year ago.

 

"I know you're judging me by how you're making gagging faces, Joohyun unnie. Stop being ugly."

 

Laughter leaves Irene's mouth faster than she could avoid a green T-shirt under her left foot. Irene yelps, attempting to balance on slippery surface before steadying against Sooyoung's kitchen counter. Stupid karma.

 

She ignores Sooyoung's amused grin, settling her coffee on a sturdy stable surface so it won't have another possibility of potentially splattering everywhere out of her own sense of balance (which clearly doesn't exist).

 

"You should try figure skating unnie."

 

"No."

 

Irene smiles at Sooyoung's laughter before settling on a stool, elbows propped comfortably atop the kitchen table, plucking the bear to sit next to her on another chair. She catches Sooyoung's glance at the stuffed animal.

 

"That's the bear you were sewing the dress for, right?"

 

Irene reaches out for a piece of not-burned beef across a porcelain platter, a mumbled "Yup," squeezing past chewing lips. Despite the dry texture, it actually tastes good.

 

"Why did you bring it?" Sooyoung leans over to reach for its blue dress, caressing fingers over a once-broken patch. "And you surprisingly didn't do so bad, unnie. I was expecting worse."

 

Irene only shrugs, taking another piece of beef.

 

"It looked lonely, so I brought it with me."

 

Maybe it was in the way her tone dipped just a tad lower that made Sooyoung look at her like she was referring to herself. Sooyoung’s brow rises as if alarmed; she always had that expression when some sort of idea clicked in place.

 

"What?"

 

Sooyoung shrugs, pointing at her hair with a fork before stabbing into a piece of beef.

 

"Your hair doesn't look messed up." Irene throws her a curious look before chomping on another meat, waiting for Sooyoung to continue. "Did you even sleep?"

 

"How're you so sure I didn't just fix myself up as soon as I got up in the morning?"

 

"You're wearing the same clothes you did yesterday when I said I'd rather have a crush on you instead."

 

Irene glances at her own clothes – she was right.

 

"Oh."

 

She hears Sooyoung hum in return, but just like the good friend Irene always knew her to be, Sooyoung doesn't probe, settling for pushing the plate closer to Irene so it'd be easier for her to reach.

 

Sooyoung was great like that. Blunt when speaking, but tactful. She never goes any further than necessary yet just enough to understand. She listens when spoken to and never asks when the situation doesn't call for it. It was why Irene never complained when Sooyoung needed her to just talk her feelings out. Maybe that was why Irene found herself forming such a hasty but steady friendship with her. She had never met someone so alike; they were almost mirror images of each other.

 

"Seulgi mentioned that you told her I like taking pictures of beautiful things." Sooyoung begins and Irene knows it's her turn to listen. "How did you end up talking about me?"

 

Irene pokes at a burnt beef.

 

"She said she used to paint. Her favorite was painting the seasons and it reminded me of you, so I told her you took pictures of those too." Irene takes a glance at Sooyoung's silent expression, the way her lips form a thin line. "You two aren't that different." 

 

Sooyoung scoffs, rolling her eyes as she motions up, ditching her fork to slump on her couch instead. Irene watches her hang her head off the armrest.

 

"She's short and I'm tall. 'Nuff said."

 

"So are we."

 

"But you're almost as beautiful as me."

 

Irene never once found Sooyoung's light narcissistic streak as annoying. It gave her charm – something that never escaped the younger girl.

 

"'Almost'? And what about Seulgi?"

 

"That's all the compliment you'll be getting today, unnie." She sees Sooyoung send her a glare. "And again, just no." 

 

Taking the last piece of unburned meat, Irene clutches the bear under an arm to bring with her, settling on the opposite side of the couch as Sooyoung curls her legs so there's room.

 

Except for her soft munching, silence plays as their company. Irene cuddles the bear against her, the color blue reminding her of Seungwan. She wonders what her roommate is doing now. Did she sleep well? Did she sleep at all? Was she cold? Irene was sure Seulgi would've had the temperature up; she knew Seungwan better than anyone else (they were best friends after all). Would Seulgi be holding her while they slept?

 

She pinches the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes and attempting to will away images of Seulgi's arms around Seungwan – to erase how much it makes her heart loud in her ears, her brows crinkling at the sight of something that could very much be real even if it was all in her head. Irene could feel how her fingers twitch to touch Seungwan, to have her heat embedded under her skin. God, what was wrong with her?

 

... Did Seulgi get to hear Seungwan's goodnight?

 

“Go down on me, unnie.”

 

Irene should've expected nothing less from her giant no-filter walking tree to scrape her thoughts so crudely. Then again, she's kind of glad Sooyoung did.

 

“Excuse me? You're very inappropriate.”

 

She watches Sooyoung readjust herself on the couch, sitting up and patting her lap, gesturing with a tilt of her head to Irene to come closer.

 

“And you think dirty, unnie. What's the difference?”

 

She pats her legs once more, urging her to lie down and for a minute Irene wonders if it was obvious (her lack of sleep; Sooyoung did point it out earlier) until Sooyoung is leaning closer to poke at her cheek.

 

“Come on Joohyun unnie. I won't bite. Unless you want me to." Irene scowls at Sooyoung's cheeky grin. "And I'm very comfortable, you know.”

 

Irene scoffs but despite rolling her eyes at Sooyoung's teasing smile, she listens, her head settling gently atop Sooyoung's lap. It is comfortable; she’s not sure if she should add to the giant’s ego though.

 

“Now what'd I tell you?”

 

She ignores the smug smile in Sooyoung's voice, turning over so she could snuggle into Sooyoung's soft tummy, the feel of cotton warm against her tired eyes.

 

“Now it's comfy.” Irene mutters against Sooyoung's aqua colored sweater.

 

Sooyoung laughs with her signature snort, girlish and gruff at the same time – her stomach bouncing gently as a result. She likes how it massages her eyes.

 

"What are you doing?" Irene can't help but ask, especially when Sooyoung starts to comb fingers through her hair, the gesture forming slumber clouds in her head.

 

"Making you sleep even if it's already 1 in the afternoon."

 

She hums under Sooyoung's tender touches, how they flutter against the back of her ear before crossing over her scalp. Sooyoung was always the biggest softie under her thick narcissistic shell.

 

Against her better judgment (or maybe she was really that tired) Irene lets her mind rest – to ease away how Seungwan plagues her every thought.

 

Irene sleeps to someone else's goodnight.

 

“Goodnight, Joohyun unnie.”

 

-

 

Wendy thinks she’s getting the hang of it.

 

She’s been looking at paintings that Seulgi has done, grateful for the distractions it provides – she hasn’t really thought about Joohyun since she’s made her choice to be just ‘Wendy’ (or so she tries to convince herself).

 

Yet here she was, lying in her own head, having kissed Seulgi more than once – attempting to regain parts of herself that didn’t feel like hers anymore. Despite finally starting a relationship with someone who had been waiting for them to begin for so long, Wendy was still thinking of someone else.

 

It’ll take time, she thinks, until Joohyun’s no longer behind her eyes, with Seungwan finally out of the picture. She just needs to be patient.

 

“This looks beautiful,” Wendy says, gliding soft fingers across a colorful canvas. “Where is this?”

 

She notes how a lake is just below a hill, several people illustrated near benches: the elderly, the teens, and a group of children that appeared to be running with orange and green balloons. Her eyes fall on a woman with long ebony hair painted with a camera (was it a polaroid?) just off to the side, idle on the sidewalk, having been drawn as if taking pictures.

 

“Thanks.” Seulgi comes up beside her, slithering an arm around her waist. “It was at a park not too far from here. It’s my autumn entry for my personal season collection.”

 

Wendy is keenly aware of the heat around her, something that she should be getting accustomed to soon. She just needs time.

 

“Will you take me there, one day?”

 

Seulgi’s laughter tickles her neck and Wendy finds herself swallowed in her arms, her back pressed tightly against Seulgi, her whispered “Of course,” dancing along the edges of her ear.

 

She just needs time.

 

“Will you…” Seulgi’s hesitation plays with the curiosity growing in Wendy’s head, urging her to glance back at the taller girl. “…Will I get to hear your goodnight again?”

 

And just like that something clicks in her head and she feels like she’s back to square one. All she hears is Joohyun’s voice: she sees the way the corners of her roommate’s lips curl up just a little bit as if to smirk, how she always mutely handed her palm out when she was counting thoughts away, and how they whispered “Goodnight” before bed.

 

(“Can I hear your ‘goodnight’ then? Since you won’t be home.”)

 

Oh no.

 

Wendy remembers her promise written on a tiny blue sticky-note; how she had grinned as she wrote it, eager to tell her roommate “Goodnight” before bed and had felt childishly giddy at the thought that Joohyun wouldn’t sleep until she did.

 

(In case you get too lonely. It’s cuddly to hug, I promise! Wait for my goodnight before you sleep, okay? — Wan)

 

Oh god, did Joohyun actually follow through with it?

 

“Please no,” Wendy mutters to herself, tapping a finger against her watch, worry etching each beat in her heart. “No, please. Don’t be stupid,”

 

She unlatches Seulgi’s arms around her, hastily making it to her bag, fumbling through piles of things she suddenly found unnecessary for the one item that should’ve been close to her at all times. Wendy’s vaguely aware of Seulgi’s questioning “What’s wrong?” as she rummages for her phone that somehow has gotten harder to find.

 

Would Joohyun be stupid enough to listen to her? No, she wouldn’t. Joohyun would sleep if it had gotten too late, wouldn’t she? She’s smarter than that. She’d have slept once she realized she wouldn’t be calling, right?

 

So stupid. How could she have forgotten?

 

Wendy was glad she had put Joohyun on speed dial, eagerly waiting for her to pick up; just to hear her voice – would she sound sleepy?

 

I’m so sorry,

 

She hears the line click open. Wendy can’t wait; she’s already spouting her apologies for a promise she couldn’t keep.

 

I’m sorry I forgot,

 

“Hyun, I-I didn't mean to forget I just—”

 

“Wendy unnie?”

 

She felt like someone had torn her insides to splatter out, her shoulders suddenly heavy with a weight she didn’t want to acknowledge – a truth she had been desperate to ignore. But it was speaking to her and Wendy knew it couldn’t get any more real than this.

 

Joohyun’s with Yeri – of course. She still loves her.

 

Wendy repeats it again and again in her head, akin to a mantra so it’d dig deep into her brain and never get out. When Yeri tells her Joohyun is asleep (and that she could pick her up) she’s relieved that Joohyun is at least resting. She was suspicious of the time – it was already 2 in the afternoon, but as long as Joohyun was catching up on sleep, it didn’t really matter.

 

Once the call ends Wendy is already packing her things, changing into her outside wear and tugging her backpack onto her shoulder. She barely hears Seulgi’s curious “Where are you going?” until she’s repeating it again.

 

“I-I have to go,” the urgency bleeds easy past Wendy’s lips, “I just remembered something – I’m sorry Seul. Not tonight. Maybe some other time, okay?”

 

Her jacket isn’t even closed when Wendy makes it through half of Seulgi’s door, glancing back for one more goodbye before watching how Seulgi’s expression looks so unsure – like Seulgi was hoping to hold her just a little bit longer.

 

Wendy remembers how Joohyun still has Yeri. It was about time Seulgi had her long-awaited wish too (after all, she was sure Joohyun had been wishing for Yeri).

 

She hurries back to give Seulgi a long kiss – shutting her eyes and willing away images of Joohyun. They were dating now. Seungwan will be gone eventually.

 

She just needs time.

 

(“Don't apologize for being my priority.”)

 

Even if Joohyun is suddenly all she sees.

 

Wendy tries not to cry as she nods to Seulgi's glowing smile, taking her hand and squeezing for reassurance. Wendy makes sure to kiss her again: harder, deeper, just so Joohyun's voice would go away – just so it won't remind her of how much of a monster she has become.

 

She’s afraid of how much time she needs. How long would it take until Joohyun isn’t in every kiss anymore?

 

“I’ll talk to you later.” She mutters against Seulgi’s mouth before running out onto the snow, rejecting Seulgi’s offer to tag along with a shake of her head.

 

Wendy hates how she is Joohyun's priority when she has made her a mere option.

 

-

 

“I'm back,” Yeri says, seeing Joy raise a hand to her lips as soon as she walks into the giant’s apartment; it has Yeri curious, grocery bags in hand.

 

“Who’s that?” Yeri asks, plopping the plastic bags onto the kitchen island, having spotted a woman lying on Joy’s lap. She catches a plate filled with burnt meat. “You didn’t save any edible ones for me?”

 

“Well. I didn’t know I was cooking for you.”

 

“But you cooked for…whoever that is?”

 

Joy’s laugh is muffled by a hand, clearly attempting to keep quiet, and Yeri only grows more curious at the silent lump lying across the couch. She’s about to probe again when Joy intercepts.

 

“Come here.”

 

Yeri has a growing suspicion that she won’t like what Joy is planning. She obliges half-heartedly, dumping her empty tube of red lipstick onto the table so she could put her jacket into the laundry basket (and clean up all the mess she’s made on the floor) before treading carefully to shorten the distance between them, narrowing her eyes at Joy’s insistence.

 

“What?”

 

“I have errands to run,” Joy quips, yanking her closer whilst lifting the woman’s head. “So keep her company.”

 

Yeri almost falls at the sight of Joohyun.

 

“Are you insane?!” She hisses harshly, steadying her hands against the top of the couch, feeling all too close to knocking out Joy’s pearly-white perfect teeth. She almost fell on her! “It’s Irene unnie!”

 

“So? Last time I checked you’re still in love with her.” Joy retorts and Yeri has half a mind to punch her if it weren’t for the fact that the noise would probably wake Joohyun. “And nice catch. You almost fell for her – again.”

 

“Shut up.” Yeri settles for slapping the back of Joy’s head – lightly (she can’t have Joohyun waking up – it’s different when they talk in person compared to on the phone). “Is she staying over? Because if that’s the case, I’m just going to find somewhere else to—”

 

“Relax, temporary roomie.” Joy’s Cheshire smile has Yeri’s skin crawling. “She just took a nap. I don’t think she slept at all last night.”

 

Yeri remembers their phone call – she was definitely partially to blame for Joohyun’s lack of sleep. But did that mean Joohyun hadn’t bothered to sleep even after their conversation ended? What kept her awake? And since when did Joohyun get herself a teddy bear?

 

“So are you going to be her next pillow or what?”

 

Yeri wonders if it’s okay. She’s gradually getting used to living life without Joohyun – sort of. At least, she didn’t need to depend on her much anymore. She could get through most days without hearing a peep from her, with thoughts of Joohyun being the only thing left to remind her that Joohyun was still around.

 

“Yeah,” she’s sure she’ll be okay, cradling Joohyun’s head gently as Joy stands to leave. “Sure, whatever.”

 

Joohyun’s head on her lap has Yeri’s heart tingling from familiarity, how her fingers suddenly crave to touch her, already combing her hand through silky onyx hair. It was as soft as Yeri remembered it to be.

 

She giggles instinctively when Joohyun nuzzles against her tummy, as if readjusting for comfort. Yeri could feel tears burn behind her eyes. She never realized how much she missed this.

 

“Call me if you need anything.”

 

Joy says like she knew what Yeri was going through, not waiting for her reply. Yeri wonders if it was obvious that she suddenly couldn’t speak; not when was clogged up from ghost nails of their memories together that came crashing in.

 

She remembers holding Joohyun like this all too well. 

 

Even when the door to Joy’s apartment shuts with a click and nothing but silence protrudes the air, Yeri finds her greatest peace in combing her fingers through locks of Joohyun’s hair.

 

She wishes they could be like this forever, but when Joohyun’s phone vibrates in her jean pocket, Yeri makes haste to pluck it out, panicking for the way Joohyun’s brows crinkle; she was going to wake.

 

Once she finds the annoying device, Yeri keeps the phone as far from Joohyun as possible, holding her breath until Joohyun’s expression relaxes. There was no way Joohyun was going to wake up when she was present. Yeri can’t handle looking into her eyes again – she might never get out.

 

Remembering something that almost always did the trick when it came to making Joohyun sleep, Yeri curls her hand to cup Joohyun’s ear, rubbing her fingers gently above it to massage her temple. Immediately she sees the way Joohyun’s brows loosen, her frown lifting to parted lips, a soft hum of approval escaping as she repositions herself, nuzzling deeper. Yeri holds back her giggles, being reminded of just how much Joohyun resembles a cat.

 

Feeling relieved, Yeri goes back to massaging Joohyun’s scalp, glancing at her phone to check the caller ID.

 

‘Home’.

 

Now that was a surprise.

 

She wonders how Joohyun had fixed her relationship with her family (maybe they were finally accepting of her?). Yeri actually didn't mind her younger sister; they were definitely closer in age so it hadn't been hard to get along with her. She even remembers Joohyun having been worried before about losing her to her younger sibling – a silly moment of jealousy that Yeri had been quick to erase with a kiss on the cheek when her family wasn't looking.

 

Clearly she missed a lot while they were out of contact.

 

Yeri clicks answer, her lips parting to speak when the caller beats her to it.

 

“Hyun, I-I didn't mean to forget I just—”

 

She recognizes that voice anywhere. How it carried fragility under its stuttering syllables, the tremor in her tone so distinctive of her character (from the short time Yeri had spent with her at least).

 

“Wendy unnie?”

 

Yeri notes the pause that suddenly feels like it’s suffocating her, pulling Joohyun’s phone away just so she could mar the label tattooed for this woman into her brain. She should’ve known.

 

(“You shouldn’t make someone your home.”)

 

Of course Joohyun wouldn’t listen to her. She never does. Always so stubborn…

 

“Y-Yeri?”

 

She finds some comfort in knowing that Wendy gets nervous around her, how her voice gets just a tiny bit softer, a little more timid – and a lot more scared. She should be – Yeri would hurt her if she did anything bad to Joohyun; especially now that the older woman has settled for calling her ‘Home’. That was never an easy feat.

 

“She’s asleep right now,” Yeri says, caressing Joohyun’s scalp, brushing away loose strands of onyx. “You can come by and pick her up if you want. I’ll give you Joy unnie’s address.”

 

What sounds like a breath of relief latches onto her earlobe, Wendy’s sigh a neon sign that practically screams “Yes,” and Yeri can’t help but grip Joohyun just a little closer – hold her just a little bit tighter.

 

“Yes please, that’d be great Yeri. Thank you.”

 

Yeri doesn’t question the obvious grateful tone in her voice, nodding absently (forgetting that Wendy couldn’t see her) before hastily mumbling Joy’s address into the receiver. When Wendy thanks her once again with a particular bouncy chirp before hanging up, Yeri sort of regrets telling her to take Joohyun away.

 

Her eyes automatically glance back at the older woman’s face and thinks: this is okay – just one more time.

 

Gently, Yeri writes across Joohyun’s arm with her free hand the words she can no longer say out loud (“I love you”), before bending down, letting her lips hover over Joohyun’s for one last kiss.

 

-

 

Irene wakes up to Seungwan’s smile.

 

She blinks her sleep away, thinking that maybe she’s still dreaming, but Seungwan is giggling and curling her hair behind her ear – which feels all too real, that Irene knows she’s not imagining it.

 

“…Wan?”

 

Seungwan taps at her brow and Irene is bewildered at her roommate’s playful character; how she is grinning from ear-to-ear, her expression full of life – something so different from how she had looked glum the past few days. She momentarily wonders if she had woken up in some alternate universe when it’s Seungwan’s lap she’s lying on and not Sooyoung’s.

 

Wait, where was Sooyoung?

 

“I came to pick you up,” Seungwan laughs, her fingers feeling soft against Irene’s skin, her hand curling behind her ear, cupping it. “Why did you need to sleep on Joy’s couch if we have two perfectly good beds waiting for you back home?”

 

Irene is well too aware of Seungwan’s sudden confidence – her lacking stutter and bold gestures tell her she’s changed. She notices by how Seungwan massages fingers just above her ear (how bold she is for touching her so comfortably), a particular sweet spot for Irene that it has her sighing instantly at the pressure – how Seungwan even knew of her weakness, Irene isn’t sure.

 

She keeps mum, attempting to blink bleary sleep images of Seungwan away, focusing on the way her roommate is tapping on her brow again before Seungwan speaks, her smile curving downwards. No, it shouldn’t be getting smaller, Irene thinks then; she likes looking at it.

 

“I’m sorry,” Seungwan mumbles softly, fluttering her fingers through her hair and Irene swears she could fall right back to sleep with her touch. “I want to make up for last night. I-I didn’t mean to forget your goodnight…” There it was – a peep of Seungwan’s timid self.

 

Irene wants to wipe that sad look on her face; it doesn’t suit her at all – she should be smiling more.

 

“What about tonight?”

 

Seungwan is suddenly colored in shades of glowing red, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons as breaks into that glimmering curve Irene adores so much.

 

Her roommate takes her by surprise again, watching Seungwan bend down so their foreheads touch and Irene wonders if Seungwan’s blushing skin is melding into her own so Seungwan won’t be the only one feeling shy. She sees how her roommate’s eyes have closed, how her laugh tickles Irene’s cheek, painting happiness in pink along her skin. Irene can’t help but squeeze her eyes shut too; she missed Seungwan – so much.

 

“I promise.”

 

Logic should’ve played the bigger role in her head when she heard Seungwan’s second vow – that doubt should be eating away at Irene’s ears and tearing at the gears in to spout some sort of snarky response for the fact that Seungwan had already broken one. She should be smarter than that.

 

But she must be a bigger idiot than even Sooyoung could guess because Irene can’t help but believe her again.

 

They leave Sooyoung’s apartment not long after once the giant returns. Irene remembers how she had gotten up to see no clothes loitering about anymore (the green shirt no longer there to disrupt her poor balance). Sooyoung must have cleaned it before she left – or maybe even Seungwan when she arrived considering she was still very much picky when it comes to being tidy.

 

But she remembers one crucial detail: she had spotted a particular tube of red lipstick with that same brand that Yerim always wore on the kitchen counter right before she closed Sooyoung’s door.

 

Maybe Sooyoung wanted the same shade as hers (which would be a little odd considering how much they hated sharing things – though that may have changed too).

 

But Irene could’ve sworn Sooyoung wasn’t wearing any lipstick.

 

“Come on, we have some grocery shopping to do.”

 

Seungwan grabs her hand, jostling the thoughts in her head.

 

“What for?”

 

“Food, silly.”

 

Seungwan’s laughter melts into her ears and Irene wonders how she had been able to survive several hours without it.

 

-

 

It’s already 10 in the evening.

 

They’ve managed to buy enough food to last a week, buying more necessities that they needed and re-stocking on products that have been depleted. But despite the usual comfortable air that hovers over them, Irene can’t help but stare just a little longer at her roommate.

 

Seungwan practically hops around with a bounce in each step, a smile so wide that Irene fears it’d crack out of exhaustion, her roommate’s limbs so fluid with motion. Seungwan’s words lack choppy syllables and normally Irene would’ve found the change new and endearing, but this feels artificial. Almost like Seungwan was forcing herself to be confident (or hiding away what she considered were imperfections).

 

Irene knew it was all pretend as soon as Seungwan attempted to count her thoughts away on a wrist that no longer held her watch.

 

She had asked the shorter girl about it multiple times (she never noticed it was gone until Seungwan started trying to tap numbers and Irene couldn’t hear those signature ‘ticks’ anymore), but all Seungwan would ever say was “I didn’t need it before,” and left it at that.

 

Was Seungwan trying to be someone else?

 

“Hyun?”

 

Irene hums in response to show that she’s heard, nuzzling deeper against the back of Seungwan’s neck, auburn hair tickling her eyelids.

 

They’re in bed together, their hands tangled in each other’s skin, and Irene wonders if roommates even do this in the first place. The intimacy doesn’t escape her but just like always, they seemed to have come up with a mutual understanding that it was okay.

 

“How am I?” Seungwan’s voice is oddly quiet, almost like a whisper.

 

Irene brushes her fingers along Seungwan’s left wrist – so bare. She can feel how Seungwan’s attempting to tap noises away by how she continues to feel for her own skin before pulling back as if to reprimand herself.

 

Carefully, Irene lifts Seungwan's wrist to her lips, meeting warm skin for a silent kiss that makes Irene’s heart loud. She presses gently against the space where Seungwan's watch used to be, a sign to show she's just as appreciative of what Seungwan had been.

 

“J-Joohyun?” Seungwan's voice is delightfully sweet in her ears, a stutter reveal under her persona of confidence; the person Irene's been looking to kiss. She’s still there.

 

Her lips motion against Seungwan's small wrist.

 

“Shy or bold, you're still the same to me.” Irene mutters, eyes shutting to a close so she can't see Seungwan's expression when the shorter girl attempts to look at her. She's not sure she's brave enough to witness what her roommate's face will tell. “You're still…” Home.

 

Irene kisses her skin again, leaving it at that, etching her mark by warmth, hoping her bared heart reaches Seungwan's (because she can’t bring herself to say it out loud), feeling the way her roommate’s pulse draws rhythms against her lips.

 

Irene can't bear to look at her when she lets go, burying her nose into Seungwan's peach-scented hair, curling her arms around her waist so their hands tangle against Seungwan's stomach again. Irene knows Seungwan wants to turn around, wants to look at her and potentially say something (Irene's positive she's itching to ask what she meant; to have her finish what she was supposed to say – oh god, what was she thinking), but all Seungwan does is curl their fingers tighter together.

 

Seungwan is intoxicating.

 

She shouldn't be this dangerous – shouldn't be this hungry for Seungwan. It's terrifying how even when she's closing her eyes she's still seeing Seungwan. What’s gotten into her?

 

“Goodnight, Hyun.” Seungwan whispers and Irene squeezes just a little tighter, pulling her closer, loving how much her voice drips honey over her ears.

 

She wants to kiss her.

 

“…Goodnight, Wan.” Irene mutters into Seungwan’s hair, her lips motioning every syllable against warm skin, letting the words kiss into Seungwan’s bones. She’s smiling at the way her roommate shivers under .

 

She really wants to kiss her. But what about Yerim?

 

-

 

It gets easier being Wendy.

 

Or maybe she's just so used to pretending to be Wendy that she could fool even herself that she is.

 

She had adopted the memory image that Seulgi had told her about, playing the part of her former self – the confident walk, the teasing smile, the happy voice.

 

It came easier than she thought, as if her former personality fitted like a glove, masking her newer, bashful self – what everyone seems to consider as a mistake (wasn't it a mistake?) – hiding away the one who Joohyun only ever knew.

 

But it gets easier to ignore the noises; easier to pretend to not need to tap away the sounds that coil her head. Every count she makes it’s Joohyun that comes to mind. It made sense: thinking of Joohyun always helped make the noises go away, but now she needed to do the opposite – to let her thoughts (memories of Seulgi) stay and not tap them away anymore.

 

Wendy’s not supposed to be thinking about Joohyun. Joohyun’s not supposed to be the one she finds comfort in; it should be Seulgi. But Joohyun doesn’t make it easy when she sometimes looks at her like she wants to kiss her (and it’s not like Wendy – Seungwan, wants to keep thoughts of Joohyun away either which is terrifying).

 

She hasn’t even told Joohyun that she was dating Seulgi yet, hanging out and letting her taste her and love her and touch her and feel her; did she even want to?

 

No, she couldn’t tell Joohyun about Seulgi – not when it would change how Joohyun touches her, feels her, watches her; she doesn’t want those to go away – she can’t let them go.

 

It has been several weeks since she’s slept over at Seulgi’s and had found Joohyun sleeping at Joy’s apartment (which Yeri had been occupying as a temporary roommate).

 

Wendy had managed to catch a short conversation with the younger girl as soon as she entered Joy’s complex.

 

“Curl your hand behind her ear. She likes that soft ‘echoey’ sound like she’s in a cave. Not that she’s ever been in one.” Yeri had instructed her as soon as she knelt to meet Joohyun’s closed eyes.

 

“What?”

 

Yeri had lifted Joohyun’s head then, ushering her with a nod to carry it on her lap. Wendy truthfully had no clue what she was getting herself into. And why was Yeri letting her be so close to Joohyun?

 

“Then just massage the area right above it,” Wendy didn’t know why she was listening either – it was almost like Yeri had that ‘authority’ to her voice. “It’s useful to know whenever Irene unnie is stressed or if she can’t sleep – it makes her feel relaxed.”

 

“But…” Wendy had begun, having stared up at someone who very much looked like she was pondering herself as to why she was giving her tips. “…Why are you telling me this?”

 

It had taken a few moments: Yeri pacing a bit in front of her, rubbing her fingers against a strand of copper-brown hair, biting her lip, before she finally gave Wendy (and possibly herself if Wendy had guessed it right) a plausible explanation.

 

“I won’t always be there.”

 

“Are you saying that I will?”

 

“Are you implying that you won’t?”

 

Wendy had been ready to raise her voice in defense; she wanted to argue that she’d never leave Joohyun, but she knew she already made that mistake the night before by forgetting.

 

When Joohyun had begun to stir, Yeri was quick to tell her not to mention anything about her being there before rushing into a room and shutting the door.

 

Wendy had no time to ask why when Joohyun’s eyes had fluttered open to stare at her looking so innocently lost and utterly sleepy. How could Wendy bring herself to not think of her?

 

They’re in the kitchen now with Joohyun cleaning up the dining table (having just returned from getting her coffee), Wendy busying herself with the finishing touches to their breakfast.

 

Wendy hasn’t been able to look at Joohyun properly. At best, she settled for short glances to Joohyun’s eyes before looking elsewhere. She found it hard to stare for long when Joohyun always looked at her like she was promising to love her.

 

She knew in how Joohyun held her tighter than usual, closer than typical roommates, and longer than best friends. The older woman was touchier too, affection pouring out like scathing marks for every fingernail that slid against Wendy’s skin.

 

Joohyun had no reservations lately: she’d find herself in Joohyun’s embrace whenever she cooked, or cuddled up at the end of their sofa in front of the television, to walking around the city with hands interlaced and arms squished together.

 

Most were quite typical though, especially when they were in bed together. What changed was how it felt. It didn’t feel like they were roommates finding comfort in each other, or friends who just loved being overly touchy together – it felt all too much like they were in love and Wendy knew then that it had to stop.

 

Joohyun loving her? She must’ve fallen in love with ‘Wendy’.

 

Who wouldn’t?

 

“Coffee again, Hyun?” Wendy doesn’t know why the words sound eerily familiar, leaving her lips like they were rushing to pour out. “I bet you taste like it now too, what with your obsession every morning.”

 

The words had come out automatically, her limbs motioning in rhythm to a beat Wendy didn’t remember. She feels like she’s had this conversation before.

 

“I think I’m getting over it,” Joohyun taps at the rim, looking mildly pleased with herself. “But besides that, wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

Wendy swears she’s heard this conversation before, recognizing that teasing lilt in Joohyun’s voice. The words are similar, the mood frighteningly the same – her lips part for syllables she doesn’t remember, her legs taking control and circling the table to lean over Joohyun who’s still seated at their table.

 

“I would, actually.”

 

Something has crawled up in her, clawing at Wendy’s chest to tell her that that’s as far as her body recalls. Wendy can feel she’s back to being in control, but she doesn’t pull away, letting her breath tickle Joohyun’s lips and watch how her roommate’s eyes flicker to .

 

She should be backing off – erase this moment and pretend it never happened. But Wendy can’t bring herself to do it, not when there’s still Seungwan somewhere inside and it’s all she’s ever wanted: that she’s wanted to be this close to Joohyun, to feel her lips and taste her, to breathe in vanilla and lavender – she’s never been this close to Joohyun even when the older girl has been shortening the distance all along.

 

To think she thought it was easy pretending to be Wendy.

 

Stupid.

 

“You can't do this to me,” Joohyun whispers against her lips and Wendy has to steady herself when the older woman rises from her chair. “You shouldn't be doing this to me…” Wendy grasps at Joohyun’s arms, finding her legs teetering and she needs balance. “Please don't do this to me, Seungwan…”

 

It startles her how Joohyun's words eerily match Seulgi's plead that night she let Seulgi love her.

 

“Don't make me come up with reasons not to kiss you if you're just going to turn them all into a giant excuse.”

 

Wendy can feel Joohyun's breath scrape at , the distance unbearably close that it's amazing how their lips have yet to really meet.

 

So she was right. Joohyun really was looking at her like she wanted to kiss her.

 

The restraint reflects their relationship, Wendy thinks, how there seems to still be a wall of formality despite their ease of sleeping in the same bed. Joohyun is too conscious over boundaries despite already breaking them while she herself is busy thinking about what ifs – when she’s not supposed to.

 

But Wendy wants Joohyun to break whatever invisible fortress they have between them, conjured up completely by their own kindness and hesitation. She wants Joohyun to be the one to bridge their gap because that'd mean Yeri really isn't part of the picture anymore.

 

But that didn’t mean Seulgi wasn’t.

 

No, she still can’t tell Joohyun about them – not when she wants this.

 

Wendy can’t help but tempt her.

 

“Then stop making up reasons for your excuses and kiss me.”

 

When Joohyun hesitates, that little second that flutters between their lips, Wendy – Seungwan, is tired of waiting, yanking Joohyun in by the collar of her white dress-shirt, kissing the fact that she was dating Seulgi away for this short moment.

 

Wendy wonders if it's selfish of her to give them what they all want.

 

Joohyun bites on Wendy’s bottom lip, eliciting a sound from the shorter girl too similar to what should be found in a bedroom between the sheets. She can feel Joohyun's hands cradle the skin along her waist, her fingers already playing with the edges of Wendy's denim jeans (they were supposed to go out shopping again – it’ll have to wait).  

 

“This is wrong. This is so wrong.”

 

Joohyun is mumbling along Wendy's jaw, to the skin of her neck. Wendy can't help but tilt her head, allow Joohyun to draw kisses across a canvas already ghost-marked by Seulgi's lips.

 

This is wrong, Wendy thinks, agreeing (because here she is, kissing someone else when she’s dating another), but even when she knows, she's already comparing how the two of them tattoo heat along her skin.

 

Seulgi had been slow and gentle, almost like she was afraid of breaking her – of touching fragility like she’d crumble. Joohyun was ripping her down raw – fiery by how her teeth scorched marks along her skin, shredding her apart into a breathless heap.

 

They were similar yet so different.

 

“I'm supposed to love Yerim,” Joohyun murmurs against her neck, tongue swiping along her pulse point. “Aren't I?”

 

Wendy clutches at Joohyun's hair, her fingers swallowed in tangles of ebony. She doesn't know why she's bringing Joohyun closer, urging her to kiss deeper – harder, even when Joohyun's trying to remind herself of a different lover.

 

Joohyun's trying to stop this madness and Wendy doesn't want it to end.

 

I'm crazy, Wendy thinks then, mewling Joohyun's name, “Hyun...” when she feels Joohyun bite into her skin, the indents of her teeth circling the spot her heart beats the loudest.

 

“This is so wrong, Seungwan...”

 

Joohyun is chastising her despite the lips still pressing fire against her neck. Wendy doesn't know why she is loving this contradiction – why she loves how Joohyun is trying so hard to resist her.

 

Wendy is loving how Joohyun just can't.

 

Joohyun's attempting to have logic play between their potent intimacy. Wendy feels a bit proud of herself for scratching off Joohyun's reasoning with tangled hands in her roommate's hair and the sounds from .

 

“This is wrong,” Joohyun mutters again, as if to remind herself, her breath marring delightful scars across Wendy's neck.

 

She writes out Joohyun's poor method of escape with a temptress's touch, caressing doubt along Joohyun's mind with words clawing desire past .

 

Wendy’s aching for Joohyun.

 

“Let's be wrong together.” Wendy whispers the words against Joohyun’s lips, her voice meshing against their heavy breaths.

 

Wendy didn't think she could want Joohyun this much – to have her roommate's fingers burn magma along her hips, Joohyun's mouth marking her mutual want against her pulse. She whimpers under tender pressures of Joohyun's teeth, stumbling backwards on weak, weak knees until her back meets the door.

 

Joohyun helps keep her up by arms encircled around her waist, pressing against her so the surface acts as her pillar.

 

It's instinctive when another sound leaves Wendy’s mouth at Joohyun's hot lips digging against her skin, teeth biting down before a supple tongue heals over indents, and then repeat.

 

Wendy groans at every burning pressure, loving the feel of Joohyun's hunger – enjoying how much Joohyun wants her.

 

Her gasp spills between desperate breaths for air as Joohyun's knee wedges itself between her already weak legs, lighting an ember to burn in Wendy’s stomach; every butterfly scorching in ruins much like the noises she no longer hears in her head.

 

“Joohyun...”

 

Wendy whimpers under Joohyun's slim fingers gliding beneath her shirt, nails clawing along her back to reach the clasp of her bra, etching trails across her skin. Wendy arches towards her so it'll be easier for her, pressing closer into a hot warmth, molding their bodies together so there's not a single space that keeps them apart.

 

“Hyun...” She breathes again, uncurling her arms to cradle Joohyun's cheeks, guiding Joohyun's head back up so their lips could mesh their fever want together.

 

Joohyun's kisses are searing, blistering heat against to burn her taste and tattoo it along her lips. They're wanting, loving, bruising – so unlike Seulgi's in terms of ferocity that Wendy wishes they were similar in that aspect too.

 

It'd be easier to compare which she wanted – needed, more.

 

Wendy groans into a stinging kiss, feeling impatience settle in her stomach at Joohyun's finger teasingly playing with the strap of her bra. She can feel Joohyun's other hand release her waist, her knee now the only thing keeping Wendy upright.

 

Her fingers streak down along Joohyun's jaw, resting nails along her neck, attempting to pull her impossibly closer, her lungs emptying of air. Wendy wonders where Joohyun's free hand is going, smirking against her lips – waiting.

 

She hears the dial of their door's lock click open and close.

 

Click. Click. Click.

 

“...Three,” Joohyun whispers against , her panting squeezing between her teeth and into Wendy's heart.

 

It startles Wendy out of her cloudy haze, feeling her eyes clear away feral desire as Joohyun turns the lock again, right beside her ear.

 

Click. Click. Click.

 

... Six, Wendy counts in her head, the notion automatic.

 

She can feel Joohyun smile, disappointment lining Wendy’s limbs when the taller girl pulls away so they're no longer kissing words. Wendy wants to ask why – why Joohyun chose to stop when pools of brown still looked at her like Joohyun didn't want it to end.

 

“W-What is it?”

 

Joohyun’s eyes suddenly carry so much – like they’re filled with so many words, so many questions, so many things, that Wendy’s not sure what they mean until Joohyun speaks; it chills her bones and freezes her heart to a pause.

 

“Why do you taste like the same orange lip balm Seulgi always wears?”

 

-

 

AN:

 

Sorry for the long wait. Life just loves keeping us busy sometimes – if not all the time.

 

Thank you once again for reading, for all the upvotes, and for all the comments. I see and read every single one of them and cherish them all the same.

 

Hope you all have enjoyed this update – until next time.