Wendy hadn't meant to cause a scene.

 

She had just felt bored (and a little lonely) in the apartment so she opted to take herself out and explore the neighborhood. It has only been 32 days since she's moved here and despite that, Wendy hadn't felt comfortable enough to venture out of her routine - school, apartment, and repeat.

 

Joohyun had just left to hang out with a friend (Wendy tries not to acknowledge the little envy in the corner of her mind) and being alone with noises still clamoring in her head – the lock and wristwatch soothed only a tiny portion of them today – Wendy figured she could stray from the main road for a little while.

 

Stepping out onto the clean pavement on 34^th street, Wendy roamed aimlessly about; fascinated and easing the boredom that was settled in her mind with the falling leaves of November.

 

It was slightly chilly out, the breeze colder than usual, signaling the coming of winter. Wendy vaguely wondered if the first day of snowfall would be as pretty as last year’s, with the way the street lights illuminated each snowflake, making them sparkle and covering them in a soft glow that kept Wendy awake for that one night.

 

The sight had silenced the noises – better than any song or deliberate sound – and Wendy wanted to keep it that way, for once. It healed better than sleep ever could.

 

Falling leaves of red, orange, brown, yellow, with patches of green, distracted Wendy long enough to stumble upon a small café, the window big enough that she could see all the patrons inside.

 

Wendy had spotted Joohyun, casually spinning her utensil in her cup as she nodded her head at whatever her companion was talking about.

 

She realized a little later (once she let her eyes absorb the image of Joohyun in her mind) that the other customers were staring back at her through the window. Embarrassed, Wendy had blushed and hurriedly moved out of their line of sight, forgetting that she was literally just in front of the window for everyone to see.

 

She stood by the entrance and pondered on whether she should go in, but the tickling in her stomach and the wings fluttering in her chest led her legs inside, her steps sure that by the time Wendy realized she was glaring at her feet for moving on their own, she had already made it to the cashier, the boy looking expectantly as soon as Wendy glanced back up.

 

"Oh, um. Just a regular coffee,"

 

He had merely nodded and once she paid the designated price, Wendy shuffled her feet from where she stood, looking for a table where she could sit. She saw one empty by the entrance, two tables away from a couple that had hearts for eyes and five from Joohyun's line of sight.

 

Wendy settled herself in once she got her coffee, sips small as she stared back out to watch the fall of red, orange, yellow, brown, and green, Joohyun never quite leaving her peripheral from the corner of her eyes.

 

The murmuring chatters played like a hum in her ears, a sound she liked immediately because of its constant thrumming and quiet stir amidst the view of November weather.

 

Normally she didn't like it, because it didn't have the constant tone that a click or tick would have, but maybe she had grown accustomed to Joohyun's, recognizing bouts of raspy chuckles and husky words, that she didn't mind the disorder of sounds and found comfort in them instead.

 

Joohyun was in her head again.

 

Wendy began to tap her finger on the table, the sound not quite similar to the countertop at home (it would have to do) so she could silence the pictures of her roommate that was flickering through her vision.

 

It only managed delay the images of her by two seconds and Wendy had to make her taps a little louder. It probably didn't help that Joohyun's voice was still audible in her ears despite the constant chatters of everyone else. Hers was just so clear.

 

Joohyun's voice played too much like a melody to a song Wendy had no words to, but her heart was her strings and the lyrics were somewhere between the rhythms of each beat.

 

Wendy wanted to know why the noises that were in her head mirrored the ones in her chest.

 

"Can't you just keep quiet?!"

 

 

And she remembers flinching at the loud voice, booming and harsh, disrupting the song in her head and clearing away the pictures of Joohyun.

 

She had squeaked her apology, settled for tapping on her wristwatch, before getting reprimanded again as quickly as she did and wincing at the shattering echo in her ears of words Wendy should've been used to hearing already.

 

"What are you, retarded? Can't you just keep your hands still?!"

 

Her apologies came quick and recited, but retained their meaning because she knew how much of an annoyance she was and hoped they could forgive her for it – but they never did (never do), and Wendy knew they still wouldn’t.

 

But once she heard the screeching of a chair, and found Joohyun's eyes ablaze with emotions too full and heavy and overwhelming that Wendy couldn't discern a single thing, she felt her heart leap to , Joohyun's name just across her lips before she felt a painful whack to her hands.

 

She should be used to her fingers stinging too.

 

Wendy had flinched then, shrinking back, and was afraid to look up at the man still snarling above her until she saw Joohyun right in front of her, dark pools of brown fiery and scathing. He must've felt her presence because as soon as he turned around, Joohyun's hand whipped out and slung the liquid in her cup to the man, his figure crashing down in a pit of cracks and shrieks of furniture and patrons.

 

She felt Joohyun grab her elbow and suddenly she was outside, leaves flitting by as Wendy held on, her thoughts going back to the café, her finger instinctively tapping on the soft material of Joohyun's jacket.

 

And now here she is, steps trailing just beside her roommate, attempting to keep up with her quick stride.

 

Joohyun's been silent since the event, and Wendy can feel the tension in Joohyun’s arm beneath her grip, the muscles tight under her cheek.

 

With every tap she makes against her forearm, Wendy can feel the stress in her limb ease off of Joohyun, can feel her give way to a cooler head and feel the relief leak out of her roommate’s posture.

 

So she keeps it constant, making Joohyun relax under her touch as the leaves rustle beneath their feet. Wendy likes the fact that her habit – unwanted, not liked, annoying – can settle the blazing fire in Joohyun's eyes.

 

Wendy feels a light tap on her shoulder, "Uh, so, you okay there?" She recognizes the girl as Joohyun's companion, tall and with long slick black hair that mirrors her roommate's. "It looked like he hit you pretty hard..." She says concernedly, bending down a little so she could see Wendy’s fingers.

 

And something must've clicked in Joohyun's head because Wendy can feel her unloop their arms so she can check on her hands, her touch warm amidst the slight chill in the air as she studies them between her fingers, cradles them like they're delicate porcelain.

 

Wendy tries to hush the slight panic she can see in Joohyun's eyes that now cloud over them, "I'm okay," she could see the worry reflected across her roommates lips, "I'm okay," she says again, but Joohyun doesn't seem to hear her.

 

Joohyun’s friend merely gives her a wistful smile and a lighthearted shrug.

 

Wendy tries again, "I'm okay," Wendy frees one of her hands so she can cradle Joohyun’s cheek, rub her thumb gently across the corner of her lips. "I'm okay, Joohyun. Really," Wendy whispers as soothingly as she can be, watches the smoke that had covered over Joohyun's eyes fade to clear brown she finds enchanting every time.

 

"...Right, well." Wendy vaguely hears Joohyun's friend beside her, murmuring under her breath as the sounds of steps begin to get distant. "I'll talk to you later unnie,"

 

Wendy feels kind of bad for practically ignoring the girl, but when Joohyun's still looking at her with dazed pools of brown, she can't look away.

 

Tenderly, almost as if possessed by the strings of her heart and the lyrics to a song Wendy's trying to find, she glides her hand up from Joohyun's cheek to her brow, tapping three times; a few thank you’s made the only way she knows how.

 

The first time she taps her brow, Joohyun crinkles them, and Wendy can feel the hairs slide under her touch – one for accepting her.

 

When she taps for the second time, Joohyun raises the brow as if trying to get it to run away and Wendy giggles at the curiosity now blanketing Joohyun's eyes – two for being there.

 

The third time, Wendy reaches up just a little higher so she can touch the soft hairs that tried to wiggle away, Joohyun squinting her eyes, trying to read the words to the lyrics Wendy knows are currently reflected in her eyes (but she doesn’t know them either) – three, for staying.

 

She knows it’s silly. But with the way Joohyun’s looking at her now, with round eyes, curious and confused, Wendy can’t help it. It gives her faux courage and even if it’s false, Wendy wants to enjoy it while she can.

 

Joohyun's lips cross and jut into a pout, and Wendy catches herself looking a second too long. "What were those for?"

 

The genuine curiosity spills with each word from , and Wendy tries not to let the meager gap between them affect her so much. Joohyun's voice already does more than enough.  

 

Wendy doesn't want to pull away, her thumb lingering over the arch of her brow, the little hairs soft under her touch.

 

"...They were thank you's," she mumbles, keenly aware of her other hand still within Joohyun's grasp.

 

The breeze that whizzes by is harder than usual and it breaks the spell that casted over them as soon as Joohyun shuts her eyes at the gust, letting go of Wendy's hand to shield them.

 

No longer spell bound by the courage that had once taken over – too short, way too short, she thinks – Wendy reverts back to feeling timid, retracting her hand so she can cradle it close to her chest. She can still feel Joohyun's skin across her palm, soft and tender, tingling under her fingers.

 

"Let's head back, it's getting cold out." Joohyun says, placing a hand on the small of Wendy's back and the action makes her warm.

 

She tries not to stutter, much to her chagrin. "O-okay," Wendy can feel Joohyun guide her on the pavement, hand gently keeping her steady from the bursts of wind, keeping her close so that her arm cradles Wendy's back. 

 

"...And," Joohyun starts, Wendy turns her head and spots a blush tinting Joohyun's cheeks, "You're welcome," she finishes with a murmur, before she taps on Wendy's brow with a finger in return, gentle and playful, a small smile taking the corners of her lips.

 

The strings are loud in her ears, the rhythm of her heart echoing hard against her chest. Wendy's starting to see the words of a song in her head, but they're blurry blobs, fuzzy and incoherent, and it bugs her that she can't read them.

 

Wendy can't help but smile, mirroring the brightness in Joohyun's eyes. The wings in her stomach have yet to stop fluttering.

 

The noises don’t hurt anymore.

 

-

 

Somewhere between Joohyun working on another one of her reports and Wendy flicking through the channels of the TV (the sounds are still unfamiliar to her so she can’t stop pressing each button), they find themselves on the leather couch, too far apart to be called close friends but close enough to not be considered strangers.

 

Wendy figures this distance must be the equivalent to roommates then.

 

Joohyun’s going over her notes – she had mentioned to Wendy before about an exam coming up, so Wendy tries not to bother her when she’s got a pencil between as she highlights over terms Wendy doesn’t even want to try understanding.

 

She lowers the volume so Joohyun could concentrate a little better, hoping that her habit of pressing the still unfamiliar buttons on the remote not too troubling. Wendy tries to memorize the sound faster, tries to familiarize herself so that she won’t have to hold onto it anymore.

 

“I’m not bothered, just so you know.” Joohyun’s voice comes out alarmingly loud amidst the quiet apartment, despite it being just above a whisper.

 

Wendy laughs sheepishly, before raising the volume a little louder; just enough to play as background sound to Joohyun’s scribbling.

 

Only a few moments pass before Joohyun’s phone rings, the sound distant enough that it’s muffled by the closed door of her room.

 

“Could you get that for me?” Joohyun asks lightly, clearly distracted by her work. “I’m thinking through a problem right now and the answer’s just escaping me,” she sighs, but sends her a thankful smile once Wendy gets up to look for it.

 

Wendy turns her head once she reaches the knob of Joohyun’s room, and when she receives a distant “Yeah, go ahead,” she twists it and enters, the scent of fabric softener wafting through her nose immediately.

 

It smells so good that Wendy wonders if Joohyun had secretly stashed a personal laundry room somewhere in here.

 

The room mirrors her own – except with a more rugged look (in terms of organization). Textbooks sprawled everywhere, from the countertop of her vanity to a portion of the floor, crumpled papers piled up in her little trash bin with a segment of them surrounding the filled container.

 

Wendy vaguely wonders if this could be considered a mirror of what’s in Joohyun’s head.

 

But Joohyun’s so prim and proper. Most of the time. She doesn’t seem like the type to have jumbled thoughts, but then again, it’s not like they talk much about each other, to each other.

 

Despite all the disarray, Wendy finds a charming order in its chaos. It still resembles Joohyun: neatly anarchic.

 

She finds the ringing phone (a default tone of beeps that Wendy doesn’t find too appalling) beneath a bundle of clothes splayed out on the bed.

 

But as she fishes for it, she finds a box of cigarettes instead; the ringing coming out in discord and fading into mere muddled sounds that doesn’t register anymore as she stares at the container.

 

Joohyun smokes?

 

The question sounds foreign even in her own ears, in her own head, as she inspects the box. It hasn’t been opened yet though, evident from the transparent tape still plastered across the latch.

 

Perhaps Joohyun wanted to try it? Unless this wasn’t her first box. But she hadn’t caught Joohyun smoking at all since she had moved here. Perhaps it was a gift then?

 

The incessant ringing comes back in full volume, and Wendy shuffles to scavenge the phone again, dumping the box of cigarettes back into the pile as she pulls the noisy device instead.

 

She doesn’t want to intrude on her privacy any longer, and hopes Joohyun isn’t suspicious with her.

 

“Here you go,” Wendy says once she shuts the door behind her, hurrying to Joohyun’s side so she can pass it over. “I just… had a little trouble finding it for a bit…”

 

Joohyun doesn’t think much of it, taking the phone with a grateful curve of her lips and answering on the way up from the couch.

 

As Joohyun walks away to take the call, Wendy settles back down on her side of the chair, slumping into the cushion and absorbing the information she has just found.

 

Smoking doesn’t bother Wendy all that much (but she prefers to keep away if someone is because she doesn’t want second-hand entering her lungs), though she will admit that she had stereotyped such persons who do, for leather belts and black clothes with a wide array of piercings on almost every inch of the body (exaggerated, she knows, but it gets the point across).

 

Wendy just didn’t peg Joohyun as the smoking type.

 

“I can’t manage to catch a break,” Joohyun groans as she walks back to the living room, a frown evident on her lips.

 

Wendy stands up and attempts to ease the frustration on her face as she bounds for the kitchen, snatching up the bag of Ferrero’s Joohyun had given her a while back (she doesn’t gulp it all down thankfully like her roommate) and offers her one.

 

“Thanks,” Joohyun sighs as she sprawls her whole body across the entire couch, before sitting up as if jolted by electricity at the realization that Wendy needed space. “Sorry,” The apology comes off easy from her tongue but Wendy hushes her by lifting her head so she can place it on her lap instead.

 

Wendy doesn’t know when it came over her, just that it did, and allows such faux courage – it returned, she thinks, both glad and terrified – to control the gears in her limbs.

 

And now they’re just there, Joohyun’s head on her lap, curious brown eyes raised up at her as Wendy tries to ease the crease between Joohyun’s brows with her thumb.

 

She can feel the harsh thrumming in her stomach, the pounding throbs in her ears of the rattling organ in her chest, and the chaotic discord of her thoughts; all exponentially louder than Wendy thought she could handle.

 

But they’re not painful.

 

Wendy presses down on the skin gently, her thumb lingering over the wrinkle there until it fades back into soft surface. She wants to know why all this noise; all this chaos happens to her when she’s with Joohyun, but they don’t hurt.

 

They don’t hurt like how it hurts to think about her parents, or her friends.

 

Joohyun looks lost and Wendy almost coos at the sight. “… Seungwan?”

 

Wendy has to admit, despite the synthetic confidence, it doesn’t make her words any less true.

 

“You know…” Wendy trails off, pushing away stray strands of black from Joohyun’s face. “… The noises don’t hurt so much anymore,”

 

Joohyun looks pleasantly surprised, from the way her brown eyes go a tad bit wider, her frown flipping to a curve of a smile. Wendy can feel affection bubble inside her and it’s warm. So warm.

 

“That’s great,” Joohyun says and it’s relieving to hear the tinge of happiness dripping from her words. Wendy’s heart sings at the sound.

 

Maybe it’s because of the fluttering feels of butterflies in her stomach or the song that’s playing in her chest, but whatever it is, Wendy is grateful for the encouragement.

 

Wendy bends down so she can have her lips brush Joohyun’s forehead, a mixture of a chaste kiss and marks of words that she’d like to write across as it spills out of ; a part of the lyrics to the song she’s still trying to figure out.

 

But she’s getting there.

 

“… You make the noises hurt less,” Wendy whispers, brushing on smooth canvas of skin, and she lets it linger there – lets the words sink in before her courage runs out.

 

When Wendy finally snaps back to her senses a few seconds later, she pulls away with a jolt only to see the burning red blush Joohyun’s sporting mirror the one she feels on her face.

 

They try to laugh it off together, try to make the warm air fade away with awkward chuckles and misplaced giggles, and with a bit of trouble, they manage to resume their tasks: Wendy flicking through channels and Joohyun reviewing her notes.

 

But Wendy can feel that the air between them has changed, and it was for the better.

 

She knew because Joohyun splayed her legs across the couch several minutes later so she could have her feet settle on Wendy’s lap, allowing her to fiddle with the toes as she continued taking notes.

 

Wendy laughs and plays with them, drumming her fingers across the smooth skin; she can barely hear the noises.

 

This feels like home.

 

-

 

It has been a month since then.

 

They've gotten closer. Wendy won't deny it.

 

Sometimes, when Joohyun's free, they'll go shopping together, buying groceries the apartment needs. And if not for groceries, they'd go window-shopping – and if there was something one of them liked, they’d give their input and exchange opinions.

 

They even bought roommate sweaters together – one blue and the other pink (Joohyun’s favorite color purple was unfortunately out of stock so she settled for the lesser of two neutrals; pink rather than brown), which had the term ‘roommates’ plastered blatantly across the front.

 

Wendy won’t admit that she likes it when Joohyun calls it a ‘couple shirt’. It was just too embarrassing and Joohyun tended to get a kick out of her reaction whenever she wore it.

 

Especially when she was particularly playful.

 

“I – I told you, it’s ‘sweater’!” Wendy would squeak out, slightly exasperated at the number of times – 13 going on 14 – Wendy has to remind her of the technicality, before shrinking inside the material so she could hide her rosy ears too.

 

“No correction for ‘couple’ again, I see.” The taller girl says between smiling teeth, amused, and Joohyun’s eyes would twinkle with mirth at Wendy’s fiery blush.

 

Wendy could never argue with that.

 

It would always end – most of the time if not vice versa, with Joohyun heading into her room to grab her respective sweater and pull it on, before she would sit back down and continue writing up another one of her assignments, a small smile on her lips.

 

And something that simple was more than enough to remind Wendy how sweet Joohyun could be too.

 

Joohyun’s currently out to hand in her report, and Wendy’s strumming the strings of her guitar, oddly comfortable doing so. The noises haven’t been bothering her for a while now (they’ve been rendered to a quiet hum) and it’s the most normal she has ever been.

 

So this is what it’s like, Wendy thinks, to be normal. She has an inkling feeling it’s because they’re all about Joohyun – sweet, quiet (she should add in playful now too) Joohyun – and it’s not something Wendy’s bothered about thinking about at all.

 

It’s the first time she’s comfortable about thinking; thinking about the way Joohyun smiles in the morning, all lopsided and hair unkempt, or when she comes home, refined and elegant until the end of the day, in the comfort of their apartment, a tired and tender curve across her lips.

 

The noises became Joohyun and Wendy doesn’t get hurt from it.

 

Sometimes there’ll be bouts of other thoughts, of mom and dad – “Seungwan come home, please,” or “Wan-Wan we miss you,”from her friends echoing in her head, and Wendy has to go to the lock on the door and turn the dial over and over again to stop it.

 

If it’s particularly persistent, she memorizes the tune of the lock and taps on her watch instead so they both play in her mind. She doesn’t want to think about them, no, not yet. Wendy doesn’t want to face them yet. She’s not ready.

 

She’s not –

 

Wendy jumps at the sound of her phone blaring through her thoughts – noise, and flicks it open (she prefers the phones that flip since it snaps with a click).

 

“Hello?”

 

“Wendy!”

 

She can feel her lips curl up into a grin, recognizing the voice of the one person who was the closest she’s got to a best friend.  

 

“Seul? What are you calling for?”

 

Wendy can feel the other girl roll her eyes, and she tries not to laugh too loud. Seulgi sighs, as if exasperated.

 

“I got you that apartment but you never invite me over! And is your roommate treating you okay?” Wendy can hear the slight worry in her voice and she gets it because she knows.

 

Wendy chuckles, “Sorry, I’ve… I’ve just been busy.” She says, before placating Seulgi with a quieter voice, timid at even the mention of her roommate. “And… yeah, she’s treating me okay.”

 

“She better be,”

 

Wendy lets herself laugh more, “Don’t worry Seul, she is.” She reassures her, not realizing the way her tone is just a tad warmer, a bit softer, and a lot gentler.

 

Seulgi picks it up, quick with her ears. “Hey, Wendy…?”

 

“Hm?” She mumbles distractedly, the noises – pictures, of Joohyun plaguing the corners of her mind. Wendy wonders when she’ll be back, and would she be carrying another coffee from the café again?

 

“… Should I just hang up so you can think about her some more?” Seulgi practically whines into the phone and Wendy feels her face burn into an inferno at being read so easily. “Seriously, I can literally feel you blush from here.”

 

“Seul…!”

 

Seulgi laughs, and Wendy can easily imagine the girl throwing her head back from the way she guffaws on the other end, raucous and loud. Wendy pouts, puffing her cheeks even when she knows Seulgi can’t see.

 

Once her laughter dies down, Seulgi’s smile can be felt through the phone. “But really, I’m glad you’re okay,” a minute of silence pass and Wendy can practically see the gears turn in her friend’s head. “And that she’s treating you okay too.”

 

Wendy can feel affection rise in her chest, “Thanks, Seul.”

 

“… But now it certainly explains why you haven’t invited me over yet,” Wendy doesn’t have to imagine the smirk slowly gracing Seulgi’s face and she tries not to have her ears redden too. “Spending all this precious time, just the two of you… you’re so possessive, Wendy!”

 

“A-Am not!” She argues immediately, refusing to acknowledge the little voice in her head that’s saying, ‘Yes, kind of, sort of, a little, totally did,’ and tries to keep her friend from having the widest, stupidest grin permanently plastered on her face. “I just – well, I just forgot, that’s all.”

 

Seulgi’s snort is so loud that Wendy has to push the phone away before bringing it back to her ear. “Riiiight, well, just making sure you’re okay over there without my supervision.” Wendy scoffs into the receiver and Seulgi chuckles at the sound, “Make sure you keep warm because snow’s going to fall down any day now.”

 

Wendy nods out of excitement, before remembering Seulgi still can’t see her. “Yeah I will, I still have my portable heater with me.”

 

“Yeah you better, or would you like a sleepover so I can cuddle with you again and keep you warm like the teddy bear I am?”

 

“No!” Wendy shrieks, embarrassed at the reminder of needing to hug something warm during the winter, “And I should have never given you that nickname…”

 

“It’s a cute nickname though so I’ll keep it,” Seulgi trails on with a lilt in her tone, playful and teasing, “And no need for sleepovers when you got a roommate to ask instead, hm?”

 

Wendy wonders if this is what it feels like to explode and burn in the fire left in its wake. She might faint from the blazing heat that’s in her head.

 

“But anyways,” Seulgi continues, expertly avoiding the more interesting route in fear of losing Wendy from 4^th degree burns. “Have you given her a present yet?”

 

“A present?”

 

“Yeah,” and Wendy begins to hear the sounds of chewing. Seulgi must be eating her Pringles again, “Something like an appreciation gift or even a ‘welcome to being my roommate’ kind of present,”

 

Wendy hadn’t thought of it at all, “Oh, I… I didn’t think of that,” she trails off before panic begins to seize her, eyes widening at a potential mistake on her part. “Wait, is that, um, is that part of the protocol?”

 

“Protocol?”

 

“Roommate protocol,”

 

Silence protrudes for a minute before Seulgi starts guffawing again, howling in laughter that Wendy sort of fears for her vocal chords.

 

She sounds like she’s crying with the way she’s sighing and giggling at the same time, “… Roommate protocol,” Seulgi snorts to herself and Wendy groans, “You innocent girl, it’s just an idea. You don’t actually have to,”

 

“Oh,”

 

“Yup,” she finishes, before munching again.

 

Wendy starts thinking, and normally she would be tapping on her wristwatch by now but she doesn’t because Joohyun’s not something she’s afraid of thinking about.

 

She thinks about the way Joohyun’s always at her laptop, coffee settled beside her.

 

It clicks.

 

“Coffee,”

 

Seulgi’s chewing abruptly stops, her words jumbled by the sounds of cracking chips. “What?”

 

Wendy speaks like a light bulb lit up in her head, “Coffee,” and she doesn’t wait for Seulgi to finish swallowing as she continues on, “… she’s always drinking coffee.”

 

“… Um, okay? I do too,”

 

Wendy stands up, setting the guitar back in her room as she keeps her phone against her ear. She checks her watch and sees it’s not too late to run to the store.

 

“No, it’s – it’s not that,” she hurries to the coatrack and worms her arms through the sleeves, “She drinks coffee every morning, but –“ Wendy twists the key on the knob so she can lock it, “ –It’s not homemade, it’s always bought,”

 

“Wow… that’s some active coffee lover,” Seulgi says, before crunching on something again, “I wouldn’t bother walking outside just to get coffee if I could make one on my own.”

 

“Do you have a recommendation?” Wendy strides through the halls, pushing through the doors to chilly air, and pulls her cotton gloves out of her pockets. “I, well, I don’t drink coffee so I don’t really know which brand to get…”

 

Seulgi’s words reassure her and Wendy’s thankful her voice is louder than the suddenly pounding rhythm in her chest. She can barely hear Seulgi over the beats in her ears.

 

“No worries, I got you!”

 

Wendy hopes Joohyun will like it.

 

-

 

It always feels nice to submit a report.

 

Once Irene lets go of the dreaded sheets of paper stapled twice together (the first time the staple itself managed to go only through half of it due to its amount), it’s like lifting unbearable weights off her shoulders.

 

“You got the rest of the week off from lab reports, so enjoy it.”

 

Irene smiles weakly one last time to the TA, nodding at his words before walking out of his office, a sigh of relief (and dread) escaping tired lips as Irene trudges down the staircase, looking forward to spending time bonding with the sheets of her bed, and staying there.

 

December’s the time of year Irene both loved and hated; loved because she gets to cuddle in thicker blankets, and hated because it gets so cold that she needs thicker blankets. The dilemma.

 

Shoving her hands in her pockets (she regrets not bringing her gloves with her), Irene hurries back to the apartment in quick strides.

 

Normally she would have loved the thought of no reports – even for a week, but it’s the only thing that keeps her anchored when she’s too busy thinking (drinking coffee), over and over again.

 

But just like always, Irene finds herself in front of the café and not the entrance to her apartment, itching for a cup of coffee. She can’t control the need, so her legs take her to the cashier and her hands pay for the drink with a bill, before the coffee is in her hands and she’s already sipping from it.

 

Irene’s thinking again.

 

She forces herself out of the café, vaguely aware of the newly renovated space where the incident had occurred (they hadn’t bothered kicking her out permanently because they probably supported her stand too), and in a breath of cold air.

 

She raises her drink, the hot liquid passing her lips and Irene lets it burn her tongue, burn through , and burn her chest – burn her whole, for her weak attempt at trying to forget someone who just won’t go away.

 

Irene laughs wryly to herself, before taking another long sip, ignoring the pain of heat against fragile lips.

 

She hates coffee. But she needs it because it reminds her of her and Irene can’t bring herself to stop thinking about her, even when she shouldn’t.

 

She can’t really expect to forget the person behind the coffee – her mind at least tries to listen to her – when her body keeps craving for it.

 

Even when she thinks she’s got it down, got her out of her head and managed to move on, Irene catches herself swallowing down the dreaded drink, a cup of coffee firm within her hand. It reminds her.

 

It reminds her of the fact that she’s still looped around her finger.

 

Irene can’t remember the number of times she has moved back to square one.

 

Her body is sore from the stress she keeps (she attempts to massage her shoulder but the cup is in the way), and her mind is tired from the lack of sleep (but she’s still there, always – and she doesn’t want to sleep because she’ll dream of her and that’s even more terrifying).

 

Irene had managed to keep it from her roommate, blending the black circles under her eyes with make up and practiced expressions. She doesn’t want to burden Seungwan with her insecurities, her thoughts – her noises.

 

She made it through a year of sleepless nights already; another would be nothing.

 

Irene supposes, as she gulps down another batch of the hot liquid, wincing at the heat, that maybe that’s why she’s soft with Seungwan; because they both have nightmares that haunt them even outside of dreams, remaining in their minds to remind them even when the night is over.

 

She needs another anchor – a week of no reports to do is terrifying because Irene doesn’t want to let her mind wander back to coffee kisses and silly grins and keep her caged in memories that still come to torture her.

 

And then she sees Seungwan – small, gentle, careful, Seungwan.

 

How she still manages to look remotely neat in the early mornings, with small smiles and timid greetings, or in the evenings when she’s more composed, looking both sweet and confident at the same time, but equal parts tender and soft.

 

Irene can feel the curve of her lips smile into her cup.

 

Thinking of Seungwan doesn’t hurt.

 

So Irene will think of her. She will think of shy smiles and soft eyes behind curtains of hair, think of the sounds of tapping watches and clicking locks.

 

She will think of Seungwan because it doesn’t hurt, because it doesn’t twist the insides of her chest and make it churn and bleed.

 

Irene makes a detour to a restaurant she knows serves great side dishes. She hopes Seungwan doesn’t mind Chinese food (and besides, she should give the girl a break from cooking all the time).

 

… Just think of Seungwan.

 

But as she grabs the plastic bag of takeout, Irene is still keenly aware of the cup of coffee in her other hand.

 

-

 

"She'll like it for sure!"

 

"How are you so sure?" she says, hanging back her jacket on the rack.

 

"Because I like it!"

 

Wendy laughs into the phone, and she can hear Seulgi's echo with hers as she places the present in her room.

 

"I hope so Seul,"

 

"Let me know how it goes and we'll celebrate your new blossoming friendship!"

 

She hears the knob rattle, the sound of the lock clicking and Wendy bids her friend a quick good bye as she hurries out, eager to greet her.

 

"Hey, I'll talk to you later, she's home."

 

"'Home'," Seulgi snickers and Wendy can feel the red on her cheeks, her neck warm that Wendy hisses into the phone to silence her. "Yeah yeah, good luck!"

 

Wendy shuts her phone just as Joohyun opens the door, the taller girl looking rather disheveled, hair unkempt. 

 

She hurries to her side to take the bag from her hand, surprise lining her lips at the sight of takeout.

 

"You bought food?" Wendy can feel her eyes pop out at the number of containers, Joohyun's low chuckle playing like a melody in her ears and Wendy tries not to think about the way her tousled hair looks unbelievably great on her. "And why do you look so..."

 

"…Wrecked?" Joohyun laughs as she turns the dial to place the lock, "It's really windy out, and about the food," she lends Wendy a hand with sorting out the containers, opening them one by one. "It's Friday. A great way to end the week, don’t you think?"

 

Their hands brush whenever they reach into the bag, and instinctively Wendy grasps her fingers, startled at the cold.

 

"Seungwan?" Joohyun's voice is so close to her ear, her breath tickling the fragile skin of its rim.

 

Wendy can feel the shivers run across her back, and over the beating organ beneath her chest. She attempts to ignore the way her ears are gradually heating up, ignore the way her stomach flutters as she cradles Joohyun's hand between her own.

 

"You didn't wear gloves?" She mutters as she begins to rub her hands slowly against hers, trying to bring back the warmth that's reflected in Joohyun's eyes whenever she looks at her.

 

Wendy tries not to think about the fact that this is the closest they have ever been (since the incident; since she aimed to soothe the worry in Joohyun’s eyes, since the moment on the couch), with Joohyun right in front of her again.

 

She applauds herself for not stuttering so far, but she hopes the red over her face and ears are hidden enough behind her long locks of auburn hair.

 

"Well," Joohyun starts, curling back a strand of hair behind her ear with her free hand. "I didn't think I really needed it."

 

Wendy tries not to stare between her fringe at the shaggy look Joohyun’s sporting at the moment. It doesn't work until Joohyun lifts her eyes from their hands to catch her gaze and Wendy snaps her attention back to the task in front of her.

 

"Oh, um..." Wendy trails off, keenly aware of the scrutiny burning through her bangs and forehead. "...Don’t forget to bring it next time, okay?"

 

Frankly Wendy's frightened at her own attachment towards her roommate, this odd affection she has in her for Joohyun that won't settle even in her stomach; the wings of something that won't stop flying whenever she's close or nearby, or when she's thinking of her.

 

Whenever she begins her tapping on her wristwatch, or playing with the lock, the noise - it gradually becomes just about Joohyun. Not her mom, or her dad, or her friends.

 

Sometimes when she thinks of them, pictures of long onyx hair and coy smiles - oh god those smiles - gradually cover the frame of her parents and friends instead.

 

Sometimes even Joohyun’s image changes too. One hour, it’s Joohyun with a frown lining her lips and her fingers clacking away on her laptop, the next, a lopsided smile and jumbled bed hair on Saturday mornings with a notebook in her hands, reviewing school material for the day.

 

On Sundays, Joohyun would be folding her laundry, the scent of fabric softener wafting through her nose as she greets the taller girl and makes breakfast like they've always done since they've begun the routine.

 

It has become home.

 

Joohyun curls her hand over Wendy's, squeezing gently and it stirs her from her thoughts that doesn't feel much like noise anymore.

 

"I won’t," she says and Wendy can feel the heat rise up from her neck again, "Thanks, Seungwan."

 

Her hand is back to the same warmth that's reflecting in her eyes at that moment and Wendy's words stumble out of because it renders her brain empty at the sight.

 

Wendy lets go, "Y-You're welcome," she says, inwardly scolding herself for the stutter and returns her attention back to the remaining containers still in the bag, sorting them out to distract herself from the husky chuckles beside her.

 

When she spots the cup of coffee Joohyun’s carrying in her hand, she mutters quickly, “Hold on,” and dismisses Joohyun’s “What is it?” before running to her room, remembering the gift she should be giving; excitement lining her limbs.

 

As soon as she comes back out, she meets Joohyun’s curious eyes and Wendy smiles under her gaze, feeling warm.

 

Wendy shows her the present.

 

Joohyun seems to love coffee a lot and she hopes that this will help her roommate save up some money and energy from walking all the way to a café just to get coffee every morning.

 

"Here, I - um, I figured it'd be nice, to have homemade coffee once in a while.” Wendy shuffles her feet, bringing out the gift from behind her. “You won't have to wake up so early just to buy one at the café anymore, if you'd like."

 

Joohyun looks stunned.

 

Wendy's sheepish, scratching her cheek and hides behind her fringe as she gazes at Joohyun's wide eyes.

 

"I, um, I always see you going out just to get coffee, so I figured, why not get one homebrewed?” Wendy can feel the heat rise slightly to her cheeks as she continues on, timidly staring at the lint on her feet. “Then, if I can, maybe – um, I can make you coffee. Sometime."

 

There’s only silence.

 

Tentatively, Wendy looks back up, curious as to why no sound is leaving her roommate’s mouth.

 

Joohyun looks too shocked to process what she has just said. The quiet, though usually wouldn’t bother her, is beginning to now.

 

Why is she not saying anything?

 

Wendy's slightly worried, "...Joohyun?" She calls out, brows furrowing at the way her eyes are swirling with mixtures of things she can't recognize. "Joohyun?" She tries again, looming in closer to see Joohyun look so lost, look so far off that Wendy's heart feels like it's about to jump out of her chest if she were to keep silent a second longer.

 

Wendy only feels clog up further once Joohyun finally speaks up, in a voice so low and hoarse that it startles her.

 

"…Where'd you get that?”

 

She’s surprised at how Joohyun manages to sound parts broken, paralyzed, and angry, all at once. It takes the air out of Wendy’s lungs and suddenly she’s gasping for oxygen but doesn’t move.

 

They’re frozen by the sight of Joohyun’s eyes filling up; glistening with tears left unshed.

 

“…Where,” Joohyun sounds almost out of breath, her gaze hazy. “… Where did you get that?”

 

Wendy is stunned at the growl escaping from Joohyun’s lips, the animosity lining each word. But the hostility isn’t what scares her.

 

She’s too shocked to move from where she stands. The words blurt out before she can stop it.

 

“… Are you crying?”

 

The silence that follows is suffocating.

 

But Wendy’s too preoccupied with watching the tears fall from brown eyes to notice the noises are getting louder in her head. She can see the pain color Joohyun’s eyes and she wants to fix it. She wants to fix what she has just done.

 

Wendy takes a step forward, cautious in her movements, soft in her attempt.

 

Her apology is right at the tips of her lips.

 

She made Joohyun cry.

 

…Oh god – she made her cry.

 

As if finally registering her words, Joohyun snaps out of her daze, reaching up to touch the streaks of tears that have stained her cheeks. Wendy watches with apprehension as realization begins to dawn on Joohyun’s face, from the way her eyes widen as she stares at her hand, fingers drawing remnants of the hurt that fell (and continue to fall) from pools of brown.

 

And then Joohyun was running.

 

“Joohyun?!” Wendy yelps, panic seizing her immediately, eyes barely catching the girl sprint out the door before her own legs begin to move on its own, giving chase. “Wait!” She drops the container of homebrewed coffee, vaguely hearing the resounding clank as it hits the floor.

 

Shooting off down the hall, she spots Joohyun slamming through the entrance of the apartment, and pushes her legs to move faster.

 

Wendy doesn’t want to acknowledge the panic rising in her chest, the fear creeping in from the corners of her mind. Her ears are throbbing with the beats – loud and painful and deafening – in her heart and Wendy can’t recognize the feeling in her stomach.

 

It’s not wings that are fluttering anymore.

 

Wendy ignores the fact that the wind is freezing and she had forgotten her coat. She stumbles on uneven concrete but doesn’t let it stop her momentum.

 

She doesn’t want to be left behind.

 

She’s scared of being left behind, again.

 

“J-Joohyun!” Wendy can hear her own tears from the way her voice cracks and hurts, her roommate getting farther and farther away from her; fading into streaks of grey and black.

 

I’m sorry,

 

She only sees blurs of red, orange, brown, yellow, and green, falling from the sky; blurs of cars and people she doesn’t care about; her sight is worsening from the way her tears ruin her vision and her chest aching for air and Joohyun.

 

I’m sorry,

 

Wendy hadn’t meant to cause pain in soft brown eyes; hadn’t meant to hurt the one who healed hers away.

 

I’m so sorry.

 

The noises hurt again.

 

- 

 

AN: Yes, they deal with their noises (thoughts) differently.