"Joohyun!"

 

Her footfalls are heavy with dread, the echoes of slapping skin against concrete (the cuts get deeper but Wendy only feels the flesh tear further open) barely register in her head.

 

Streaks of floating orange and hues of red flitter the sky, the natural source of light gradually fading into the line beyond the streets.

 

Wendy didn't think it was that late already (but perhaps that was why Joohyun bought food; for dinner) and here she was, watching her filter through into shades of grey, blur out as her feet cry for care, tiny patches of rock and dirt puddling into the scratches she knows are there.

 

"J-Joohyun!"

 

Wendy hadn't thought about slipping her shoes on, not when the organ in her chest clenched as if roped in chains of thorns and squeezed her breath and logic away at Joohyun's hasty retreat.

 

Wendy can't erase the lines of tragedy that fell from brown eyes, can't forget the cascade over delicate pale skin, and hopes it won't be the last image of Joohyun she'll ever have in her head.

 

She wants to see tousled hair and lopsided smiles, see brightness in eyes that tell stories in puzzles and gentle touches of silk caresses and firm pillars for arms.

 

Don't leave me,

 

Her chest heaves at the chained weights against her heart, buckling to grasp her chest, compressed by lack of air, rough and dry and tight. Wendy's breaths come out in shuddered gasps, her legs weak and wobbly of the pressure strained

 

She doesn't recognize this part of the neighborhood, the skeletons for trees arching over like towering figures, swaying in strays of falling dead leaves. Wendy can't see Joohyun anywhere, even with the streetlights splaying puddles of flickering yellow across the harsh deep shade of red skies.

 

Joohyun's name is lodged in , playing as a barrier to her voice and the terror of a truth Wendy doesn't want.

 

She shrivels at the gust of air, cradles herself close at the howling wind. Her ragged breaths come out in puffs of clouds, and she coughs at the cold entering tired lungs. The lines of regret have frozen over her cheeks, her eyes still misting over with every picture of Joohyun twisting in her head.

 

…Please,

 

Ignoring the shots of pain from every step she takes, her flesh no doubt absorbing specks of uneven gravel, she drags herself with every breath escaping chapped lips, weak legs teetering from bursts of whistling air, the leaves dancing in scattered patterns.

 

Something sharp impales through her open skin at a single misstep, a mixture of a gasp and grunt breezing out of , as her legs crumple, hands scraping deep against cold concrete.

 

Her ears pick up something loud and blaring, attempting to destroy her eardrums, the ground in tremors like tiny quakes.

 

When she manages to look up, she stills at the familiarity of a white blinding light.

 

Don't leave me behind,

 

The sound is getting louder, the light getting closer.

 

-

 

Irene slumps against the side of a building, her hand grazing torn wood and broken cement, attempting to restore the oxygen in her lungs.

 

"Unnie, I don't need to add sugar."

 

"Why not?"

 

Her ears are ringing in pressures of chilly gusts and memories of warm breaths. Irene's hands curl into fists – tremors of white stun her limbs and she draws blood from her lip, teeth gnawed in dry quivering flesh.

 

"…You make bitter coffee taste sweet,"

 

Irene swipes her fingers over the drips of red now pooling past her chin, remembering her lips ghosting over hers, the way she'd nibble on the softness in return and forget that she hates coffee more than she hates lab reports.

 

"You look beautiful without makeup,"

 

"But unnie, it's the trend. And besides…"

 

Her fingers linger over her lips, remembers the way her touches ignited a spark across like sketching tattoos, but without the pain, permanently indenting into her even when there was no visible mark left behind once the specks of lipstick faded away.

 

"…I want to look just as pretty as you whenever we walk together outside."

 

Irene wants it all to go away.

 

Digging into her pockets, frantic as fear lined her limbs at the nightmares plaguing her mind, "Unnie, cuddle?" Irene grabs at the box perched deep in the material, jerking it out after three attempts because of her jittery fingers, and yanks the last cigarette before dumping the box somewhere behind her.

 

She wrenches the lighter out of her other pocket, wincing at the flash of pouting lips, "Smoking's bad, unnie!" before clicking it open and starting the fire that she hopes will calm her nerves and heart.

 

Her puffs come out frayed and jagged, inhaling death as it breathes into her lungs like wisps, claws reaping at her lifeline of rhythmic beats, ripping and etching off time like an hourglass.

 

"How about this unnie; you smoke to forget things right?" Irene squeezes her eyes shut, but the image only gets clearer, "Replace the smoking by thinking of me, okay?" She pushes her legs forward, shoves her weight from the wall so she can go somewhere – anywhere else to get away from the thoughts in her head. "Could you do that for me? Please?"

 

Irene shakes her head like it would will the noises away, will her big round eyes and cheery grin from her mind. What creeps in in her place are delicate eyes hiding behind curtains of auburn and small curves of timid lips curling upwards.

 

Fogs of smoke slip her lips, hands finally beginning to steady its hold on the cigarette as Irene wobbles towards somewhere that's really nowhere.

 

The lampposts barely shine dirty gold across the empty street; the sky a dark shade of grey going black. She hears the air whistle in her freezing ears, but the toxin in her lungs keep her body warm – hot even, and Irene just wants to tear her jacket off.

 

Every corner she makes look the same, bleary with skinny trees arching over her like an entrance to the world below.

 

She brushes over her eyes with her sleeve, still furious at the hurt that literally poured through them like a faucet and hopes that was the last of it.

 

Irene cringes at the sound of loud honks, annoyed at the obnoxious screeching of tires amidst the darkness.

 

When she turns the corner, vaguely curious of the ruckus, Irene's already dropping her cigarette as she bounds for her roommate splayed on her hands and knees waiting for the speeding deathtrap to claim her place.

 

Seungwan's name doesn't leave her lips, stuck somewhere between the pause in her chest and the ball of fear shoved in .

 

Things went by so fast that Irene only registers yanking the girl towards her, roughly wondering if she had dislocated her shoulder as they tumble backwards, Seungwan's weight dropping hard against her as Irene's back slams the ground, a choked mix of a cough and grunt escaping as the air leaves her lungs, the car zooming past, the shrieking honk still going on even in the distance.

 

The impact leaves her dizzy, groaning at the cold concrete beneath her and the little lumps of rocks and gravel poking against her back. She attempts to sit up, but Seungwan's still above her, frighteningly still.

 

"Seungwan?" She rasps out, throat dry as she brushes the strands of auburn from the girl's face to check on her eyes.

 

Seungwan snaps up at her touch, her eyes no longer fogged over with streams of thoughts as she blinks her daze away. Her voice comes out equal parts unbelieving and hopeful, her touch ghosting over Irene's face as she cups her cheeks like satin sheets, smooth and feather light.

 

"… Joohyun?"

 

Her breath mingles with hers, and Irene wonders if it's some sort of dizzying spell for the way her head still feels like it's spinning. Irene only manages to nod a little, Seungwan's hold keeping her immobile for the most part.

 

– Then a speeding car flashes back into her mind and Irene is furious.

 

She grabs Seungwan's hands from her face, lifting her head up from the ground so she can stare through the suddenly wide eyes in front of her. Irene's voice comes out like a feral growl, akin to the quiet murmur of a lioness, gradually bearing teeth.

 

"What were you thinking?" She ignores the way Seungwan flinches from her tone, the words escaping her like a waterfall, her pitch rising. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?!"

 

Seungwan's meek shake of her head flushes a portion of the rage in her mind, but it doesn't stop Irene from lashing out for all the terror still lining her limbs.

 

"What did you think would've happened if I didn't make it in time?!" Irene doesn't realize her fingers are trembling until Seungwan's curling over them as if to help them stop, but she's still hysterical from the way her words stumble out of her lips like discord. "If I had just been a second later – if I had stopped somewhere along the way just to stare at a light post even – god, what did you think was going to happen?!"

 

Irene's unnerved at Seungwan's silence, so she attempts to move again until pain shoots through her back. She shuts her eyes as she drops her head back to the pavement and gives up for now, not willing to look at torn brown pools hovering over her looking as lost as she felt.

 

When droplets of something warm and wet falls onto her cheeks like beginning cascades of rain, Irene scrunches her eyes open, daring to peek to witness light auburn streaming over her face, cocooning her in like a shield so it's only the two of them – not even the stars could see.

 

Seungwan's whimper startles her, the girl's lips quivering that Irene has half a mind to brush the tremors away, but she can't when her hands are still in her grip. Seungwan brings them into her, cradling them against her chest, as if the action will keep her close.

 

"I-I'm sorry I just - I thought – I thought you…" Seungwan hiccups, choking on her tears and Irene ushers her to continue with her thumb dancing across the back of Seungwan's hand. "… I thought you left me," her words come out as hushed whispers and Irene would've missed it if not for Seungwan's bowed head so they're still breathing the same air.

 

Right. She ran –

 

… I left her behind,

 

– away from Seungwan.

 

I left her to nearly get hit by a car.

 

Something tugs at her chest, coiled in ropes of a past Irene wants to forget.

 

She tries for Seungwan, bearing the ghosting nails of her kisses and touches into the farthest corner of her mind, locking it and throwing the key away because the girl needs her (needs her more than her insecurities) and because that's what roommates are for.

 

"… I'm sorry," Irene frees one of her hands to reach for her face, wiping the trails of fear on wet skin, her other clasping their fingers together, offering support unwavering unlike the swaying trees. "I didn't mean to, I –"

 

Seungwan shakes her head, "You shouldn't be – I-I should, for…" and her words end there as she trails her fingers – cold, dainty – across the wells of her eyes. Irene can hear it even when Seungwan doesn't say it from the way her touch caresses over invisible streaks long faded away.

 

… For making you cry,

 

Irene finds it amusing despite the circumstance how they're trying to write off the tears from each other's faces.

 

Making light of the situation, Irene prods a finger between Seungwan's furrowed brows, mimicking what the girl did to her once before, to ease the crinkles across soft skin.

 

A smile tilts her lips upwards at the lost look Seungwan is giving her.

 

"Aren't we a pair of hopeless roommates?"

 

Seungwan's laughter a second later is divine as she rubs away the remnants of mist from her puffy eyes, Irene aiding her with gentle swipes along her cheeks and jawline.

 

In Seungwan's voice lies hope with feathers for wings.

 

Irene wants her to keep it, because it sounds a lot like happiness and that shouldn't be something new to Seungwan.

 

-

 

They manage to make it back to their apartment somehow (apparently the flickering streetlights are only on their street and it played as a good marker), Joohyun setting her down from her back – Joohyun wouldn't allow her to walk back because of her lack of shoes – and despite the initial worry over Joohyun's fall,

 

"But what about your back Joohyun…?" all the girl apparently needed was a massage, "Good as new Seungwan, now hurry up or I'll really just leave you behind."

 

Wendy remembers scurrying over to her as Joohyun knelt down, flushing from her roommate's chuckles as she wrapped her arms securely around her shoulders.

 

She won't admit that her favorite moment so far with Joohyun was definitely on their way home.

 

Wendy hisses at the antiseptic Joohyun pours over her feet, the taller girl wiping away any excess around the various scratches across calloused skin as Wendy sits on the edge of the tub.

 

"Now just let it dry off before putting the bandage on okay?"

 

Wendy snaps up at Joohyun's rising form, "Where are you going?" she doesn't mean to let the panic tinge her voice, the fear beginning to claw up again.

 

Joohyun tousles Wendy's hair, and the terror draws back into the depths.

 

"I want to cool the heat off first," Joohyun says, gesturing to herself but Wendy knows vaguely what she's referring to.

 

She smoked, Wendy remembers, Joohyun's breath mingling with lines of a cigarette when they had been close enough to count the specks that makeup barely touched on each other's faces. Wendy could've sworn she saw dark circles beneath the wells of brown eyes.

 

"At least keep your coat," Wendy says and begins to remove the apparel (Joohyun had leant it to her on their way back) but Joohyun raises a hand, shooing her away with a curve of her lips.

 

"Just hold onto it, I won't be long."

 

Wendy wants to wait it out with Joohyun.

 

Her hesitation plays with the gears in her limbs (even when she's still immobile), half staggering towards her but the other twisting away like faltering November leaves. Wendy doesn't want to intrude once she sees Joohyun turn her back on her, walking off through the bathroom door.

 

Wendy wants to know what she's thinking, but Joohyun won't be telling her (eventually, maybe) so she settles in her spot, leaning her back against the square-tiled wall, lets her feet heal for the time being.

 

She holds onto Joohyun's jacket, cradled against her chest, the scent of lavender and vanilla still wafting her senses, creeping into her mind so it could embed itself in her memory.

 

"… Am I heavy?" Wendy remembers asking Joohyun on the way back, makes sure her arms don't squeeze too tightly around the girl's neck. "You can put me down, um – I can handle it."

 

Joohyun's grunt lets her know the lie that spills from her lips.

 

"You're as light as an obese hamster,"

 

"I… I don't know if that's a good thing,"

 

"Good, now while you go think about that for the next few minutes –" Joohyun grunts again, readjusts her hold, hoisting her up so she can better grip Wendy's legs. " – Let me save some breaths for energy okay?"

 

Wendy remembers burying her face against onyx hair, resting her cheek against Joohyun's small shoulder. The red made it up to her ears, Wendy knew, and whispered her thanks, meek and grateful.

 

"… Okay," she took the silence to add more, gripping Joohyun close, "Sorry…"

 

"Don't be," Joohyun paused for a moment, Wendy nuzzling deeper as the cold breezed through like a roaring tide. "Or else I should be apologizing too for making you cook all the time. Now," Wendy felt Joohyun's fingers curl tighter around her legs, making the flames across already burned skin flame brighter. "I'm going to keep quiet and if you want to talk, just talk." Wendy froze up at Joohyun's head turning to look at her, "I'm always listening,"

 

Joohyun's breath ghosting over her lips had to be a sin. After all, it would explain the sudden desire to lean in and just kiss her.

 

She feels the cool air drift over her wounded skin, and wraps the bandages over delicate injuries.

 

Wendy only makes it to the living room, splaying herself across the couch – half because she wants to wait for Joohyun and the other because she can't be in her room knowing Joohyun's not in hers.

 

Her feet still has tickles of pain coursing through whenever she takes a step, and it encourages Wendy to just lie there on the sofa, not moving an inch. She pulls Joohyun's jacket over herself to play as a makeshift blanket, willing her eyes to stay open.

 

"… I like it," Wendy had begun her little 'talk' as they trekked amidst dry leaves crunching beneath Joohyun's black converse. "That you call me 'Seungwan'… not that 'Wendy' is bad or anything – it's just," she felt Joohyun nod along, listening from the way strands of onyx poured over her shoulder. "… It's good to hear 'Seungwan', once in awhile."

 

A few minutes in and Wendy's eyes already begin to droop, the room fading away into blurs of grey in the dim landscape, the moon's ray of light filtering through the slits of the windowsill.

 

"… I wanted to wish for someone who could listen to me, even when I couldn't handle listening to myself," Wendy said, hearing Joohyun hum, ushering her to continue. Wendy smiled into her hair, breathed her in, "… but I was afraid of making up hope for something I knew wouldn't come true."

 

She manages another minute longer through the counts in her head; one, two, three… until the curtains finally close and her breaths come out steady.

 

Her nose nuzzled the space between Joohyun's shoulder and jawline, where the contour led to her ear; attempting to hide her face even when Joohyun couldn't see her anyway.

 

"And then you came; sweet, quiet, playful – and true."

 

She felt Joohyun smile against her cheek.

 

Wendy sleeps dreaming caresses of vanilla and tender lavender.

 

-

 

Irene locks the door behind her, twisting the knob before turning around just to pause near the doorway, a lump settled across the couch.

 

She attempts to check it over, before her foot knocks into something and it clanks, rolling off in murmurs of bumps against the wooden floor.

 

Coffee.

 

Irene cradles the container between shaky hands, remembering how she had preferred this particular brand over anything else. How the aroma wafted through her nose whenever they shared silly kisses and hushed whispers.

 

"Then, if I can, maybe – um, I can make you coffee. Sometime."

 

Seungwan.

 

She wants to throw it away, get it out of her home, and make it disappear out of her life for good. But –

 

Irene kneels in front of the quiet figure, recognizing her grey jacket playing as a shield for Seungwan as she slumbers, breathing slow and steady. She brushes away light auburn so it curls over Seungwan's ear, sees the way Seungwan's face is relaxed and it settles the tremor in Irene's chest, keeps memories locked for just a little longer.

 

– She won't throw away Seungwan's effort.

 

Making sure her jacket covers the girl completely, Irene turns around so she won't stare longer than she should at how the moonlight collapses over Seungwan like filtering spot lights, her face a stage.

 

She settles herself with her back against the sofa on the ground, head right beside Seungwan's as Irene places the homebrew coffee and her newly opened box of cigarettes next to her on the floor. She doesn't mind the dark room, allowing the natural light to seep through in slits from the window, providing a somber view amidst the quiet.

 

Irene doesn't want to sleep. Not when dreams are entrances to the past she wants to forget.

 

"And then you came; sweet, quiet, playful – and true."

 

She smiles at the way Seungwan had pressed against her neck, heat emitting from her face that Irene didn't need to imagine the blush seeping into her own skin.

 

"Unnie, kiss me?"

 

Irene squeezes her eyes shut, clasping her head in shaking hands and tries to will away her voice. She slumps over so her knees provide support over her exhausted form, fingers digging hard into her scalp. Don't think. Don't think. Don't think. Irene can feel strands of hair peel across her nails.

 

"… 'Irene' unnie,"

 

"Why 'Irene'?"

 

Biting of her lips, big eyes twinkling in melodies of twilight.

 

"Because unnie, you bring me peace."

 

Stop thinking,

 

"… I wanted to wish for someone who could listen to me, even when I couldn't handle listening to myself,"

 

Seungwan.

 

"… but I was afraid of making up hope for something I knew wouldn't come true."

 

Just think of Seungwan.

 

Irene repeats the name again and again in her head – Seungwan, Seungwan – like a mantra that would ward off the claws of her from her mind. She doesn't want to see her again once her eyes close completely and the erratic beats of her heart steady to a quiet calm.

 

So she cradles herself, rocking in rhythm to the hum of Seungwan's voice, willing her roommate's to overpower in sound from her's. Irene doesn't want to sleep – she can't.

 

She doesn't want her dreams to give false wings to hope.

 

-

 

Wendy almost gets a heart attack.

 

As soon as she realizes the head of black hair is remaining still, near from where she just slept, Wendy lets her chest settle to a softer thrum, gradually unclenching jittery fingers from her navy blue sweater as the breaths come out slower in smaller puffs.

 

Wendy's so relieved when she peers closer to see Joohyun instead of the infamous horror movie character she loathed so much, slumping against the cushion of the sofa to let her mind sink reality back in.

 

Sunlight casted gold in shattered rays, cascading in a way that keeps the room half lit in calm, suitable for a morning that's not too bright.

 

Wendy shuffles over, watches the way puddles of light hover across Joohyun's face, kissing skin like brushes painting over empty canvas.

 

Joohyun's slumped against the bottom of the sofa, head lolled back and face partially covered in onyx strands disarrayed. Her lips are slightly parted, brows crinkled like pain painted her expression, chest rising and falling in rhythm to every wisps of breath escaping like whispers.

 

As soon as it fully registers, Wendy hurries to her bedroom (ignoring the minute pains coursing from her feet), pulling out the fluffiest pillow she owns and lays it out beside her. Carefully, she guides Joohyun so she lies down flat across the wooden floor, head safely cushioned against the cyan pillow.

 

Wendy removes the jacket around herself to splay it over the slumbering owner, tucking it right beneath Joohyun's chin and patting it down so it keeps her warm.

 

Once Joohyun looks comfortable in her new position, Wendy settles across her, watching the patterned rise and falls of her chest. Her hand crawls up to her left wrist, feeling the cool leather and glass of her watch; her finger begins its morning ritual.

 

Tick. Tick. Tick – three,

 

Why didn't Joohyun sleep in her room? Was she too tired to walk all the way there?

 

But it only takes ten steps – depending on the distance of each stride so at max; fifteen – to get to either room from the door.

 

Perhaps Joohyun didn't mean to fall asleep there?

 

Tick. Tick. Tick – twelve,

 

Wendy winces at portions of light hitting her eye as she tries to move, spotting the reflection made by the plastic seal of a cigarette box (right next to the coffee brew). She crawls towards them, taking them into her hands and lets regret pile up in her chest like mountains.

 

She shouldn't have gone along with Seulgi's suggestion. If it weren't for her idea of giving Joohyun a present (Wendy won't admit that the coffee idea belonged to her – she can't), then none of those things would've –

 

"I'm always listening," Joohyun said, voice warm, soft, gentle.

 

– none of them would've happened.

 

Wendy slumps against the bottom of the couch, noticing the ripped tear of a portion of the plastic seal on the box of cigarettes (she's not surprised to recognize the container from earlier). She remembers the line of gold strip across the bottom; Joohyun really does smoke.

 

It bothers her a little, knowing Joohyun's allowing poison into her body. But Wendy also knows they're not close enough to talk about things like that – things like what makes them hurt.

 

She rests her head back like Joohyun did before, settling the items back beside her before wincing at the stream of light hitting her face again. It reminds her.

 

Bright light. Wendy doesn't know why it feels familiar to her, like she's seen it somewhere before, but she knows it's part of a memory she can't remember. Is it even important?

 

Tick. Tick. Tick – twenty.

 

Wendy hears Joohyun stir, the girl nuzzling further into her cyan pillow before stilling again. A smile paints itself across her lips, and softly, Wendy reaches out to Joohyun's temple, leaves smooth caresses like brushes of a picture and feels affection rise up her chest at Joohyun's instinctive reflex to shuffle closer to her hand.

 

Wendy keeps her fingers there, massaging gently like small tides washing over the shoreline, noting the slight curl at the corners of Joohyun's lips and the fading crinkles between her brows.

 

Time slips from her like ghost feathers with every caress of her hand, the sunlight rising, rays burning brighter; but it feels sort of like forever and Wendy's afraid to know it will still end.

 

So she keeps herself deathly silent (keeps from making any sound), and lets Joohyun sleep under tender touches, brushing the dry blood stained on her bottom lip (she must've bit it). It won't be forever, but it'll be close enough.

 

-

 

It's the last day of November.

 

Wendy's waiting for Seulgi to pick up the homebrew (she managed to keep it from Joohyun's sight in case it triggered something in the raven-haired again) as she strums the strings of her guitar in the living room.

 

Her fingers have plucked a melody Wendy knows isn't in any song she's heard so far, but sounds familiar enough that it rattles the chains in her heart. She's trying to figure out the chords, but only some of them sound right so far.

 

She can hear the thrumming of the shower, and Wendy tries not to think anything further than the doorway to the bathroom knowing Joohyun's in there.

 

Wendy jumps at the sudden rasps of knocks, banging the bottom of her classical guitar against the floor before hurrying to the door, settling the instrument in its stand by the coatrack.

 

"Hey, Wendy!"

 

She chokes in Seulgi's bone-crushing hug, but the warmth is overflowing and Wendy grasps out weakly in return, clutching at her back, smiling into her close friend's shoulder knowing this was the closest she'll ever get to hugging a bear.

 

"H-Hi, Seul – now, um, can I breathe?" Her voice comes out in muffled gasps before breathing in lungful air at Seulgi's sheepish release.

 

Seulgi giggles, "Sorry, I just – well, haven't seen you in awhile." She says before ruffling Wendy's hair, affectionate. "Now as cheap as this sounds, where's the coffee?"

 

Wendy laughs as she leads her in, ushering her towards the couch as she fishes for the coffee brew hidden in her room. She can still hear the shower running even when she's in the sanctuary of her bedroom and Wendy wonders when the sound of streaming water started getting loud enough to not strain her ears to hear for it anymore.

 

"Here, all yours." She says, tossing it towards the girl, Seulgi happily catching it with ease of both hands.

 

Seulgi cradles the container like it's her baby. "Don't know why your roommate doesn't like it, but I'm not complaining!" She coos as Wendy settles to sit beside her. "Where is she, anyway?"

 

"Showering," Wendy doesn't want to know why she's flushing at her own answer. It was the truth anyway.

 

Seulgi wiggles her brows, "Ooh, are you planning to join her once I –"

 

"Seulgi!" Wendy yelps, hiding behind her hands as Seulgi's chortle crackles in the air. "No – she's just, we're – um,"

 

"'We're'?"

 

The red across her cheeks shouldn't be getting any redder but it is and Wendy can feel it bleed out in smokes of heat between her fingers.

 

"W-we're going shopping together so it's – it's nothing like that!"

 

"Did you shower yet, Wendy?" Wendy misses the way Seulgi's eyes glint in glee as Wendy peeks between the spaces of her fingers.

 

"Um, no, but why would that –"

 

"Then go hop in so you have more shopping time together!" Seulgi earns herself a hard slap on her shoulder that the girl nearly drops the coffee brew cradled in her arms. "… You're so abusive,"

 

Wendy snorts, crossing her arms. "Yeah well, you deserve it okay –"

 

"Then I'll have to let your roommate know about this!"

 

Seulgi rises to stand and Wendy jumps at the lacking sound of running water. Joohyun.

 

"W-What?! NO!" Almost as if possessed by emotions Wendy can't discern – fear, anxiety, panic, maybe (why was she so frantic anyway?) – she shoves Seulgi towards the doorway, urging her to leave.

 

It's almost like she's afraid of Seulgi stealing Joohyun away.

 

Seulgi takes her jostling nerves for embarrassment, "Are you that nervous about your roommate, Wen?" She tousles her hair again, clutching the brew in her free arm. "Relax, I'll leave you two alone for some bonding time." Wendy can feel guilt scratch the walls of as Seulgi smiles, "But one day, I'm going to have to interrogate her to make sure she's treating you right, okay?"

 

Wendy nods, an apology written across her lips. "Seul, I'm sorry I just –"

 

Seulgi curls locks of auburn from Wendy's face, behind her ear so her eyes show clear.

 

"Do you look at her with eyes like that, Wen?"

 

Wendy's brows furrow, loose strands falling over as she tilts her head to the side.

 

"Like what?"

 

Seulgi grins, Wendy keenly aware of an opening door and shuffling footsteps across the floor; creaks of wood squeaking in her ears. Joohyun's done.

 

She leans in to her ear and whisper words akin to the lyrics transcribed between the beats in her chest.

 

"Like a love letter?"

 

"Seungwan?"

 

Wendy jolts at the sound of her name, Joohyun's voice a signature rasp, husky lined with quiet strength as Seulgi winks at her before she starts off down the hall. No words form in response, lips opening and clicking close as Seulgi turns to give a wave, "See you!" before disappearing behind double doors.

 

"Seungwan?" Wendy snaps at attention as Joohyun stands beside her, rubbing a towel through her hair. "What are you doing?"

 

She sees specks of water droplets cascading down the arches of her neck, over the bumps of her collarbone before disappearing under a black tank top.

 

Wendy stumbles backwards, words staggering out of her lips like broken cracks on pavement. She's suddenly drenched in emotions that feel like she's known them all along but the words are blaringly bright across her heart and the sounds are loud in her head.

 

"I-I, I gotta go take a shower – yeah, um, I'll go do that now –"

 

Wendy trips on strings of Seulgi's voice, "Like a love letter," and Joohyun's grip is tight on her upper arm, keeping her steady.

 

"Hey, are you okay?" Joohyun's bending her head so she can see her eyes, but Wendy keeps them hidden behind her fringe.

 

"Yeah – yeah, I'm fine just –" Wendy says in murmurs, releasing Joohyun's grip with jittery fingers (she hopes Joohyun can't feel them tremor). "– Just wait for me, I'll, uh – I'll be quick."

 

Wendy manages to make it to the bathroom in record time, making sure the lock is turned (ten times as opposed to the normal thirty-three; she convinced herself it was really locked) before sliding down against the door and cradling her head in shaky hands.

 

She hears Joohyun's footsteps nearing the doorway, soft and tentative. Wendy knows she wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for the fact that she was sitting against the door. Wendy waits and holds her breath when she feels Joohyun stall there; perhaps she forgot something?

 

Tick. Tick. Tick – three,

 

Wendy doesn't know what's taking Joohyun so long, and she almost calls out to ask before her footsteps start again and it fades away into the distance, creaking wood falling faint.

 

Even when she knows Joohyun's nowhere near her now, it doesn't calm the pulsating drums in her ears, the rattling chains tied around the beating organ beneath her chest clinking harsh and loud.

 

Wendy rubs at her eyes, willing to wipe the letter away – she can't let Joohyun see, could she? – and clenches at her sweater where her heart lies to hush its pounding thrum.

 

Has Joohyun already seen it though? But how long has her eyes carried the words to the lyrics of the song she's been trying to figure out?

 

Wendy hopes the water will help calm the shuddering nerves; wash away the words from her eyes.

 

She can't let Joohyun know, not when all this time the tattered words she's seen in Joohyun's soft brown eyes has been a letter of her own.

 

How can she look at Joohyun now?

 

-

 

Seungwan looks like Seungwan from the first day she moved into the apartment.

 

Shuffling feet, eyes hiding behind auburn fringe, stuttering lips, and ticking wristwatches, as they walk through the mall.

 

Irene keeps her attention on Seungwan trailing beside her, oddly quiet (quieter than usual) with curtains of hair shielding her face, her figure slumped like she's afraid to be seen.

 

It bothers her.

 

Irene tugs at Seungwan's hand, "Want to go home?" she asks, close enough to the shorter girl's ear so that she could hear amidst the cluster of people chattering like audio plaque.

 

Seungwan jolts in her grip (a mere clasp of the ends of her fingers) and gazes up at her before immediately staring back down like she's afraid to look at her. Irene can feel her lips jutting out, forming a frown.

 

"Is there something wrong?" Irene crinkles her brows at Seungwan's vehement shake of her head, hair waving in array of scattered tendrils. She tugs at meek fingers, curling hers between the spaces of Seungwan's, filling them in. "Come on, how about we go eat instead? My treat,"

 

She drags Seungwan out of the mall, guiding her through crowds and out into the open. Irene can feel Seungwan tighten their fingers together and it makes her smile as they walk onto the busy streets.

 

It's nighttime, the lights from lampposts acting as maps for the bustling clusters of people flitting about in ray of streams, spilling hues of yellow and white across various stands.

 

The moon is full, providing a natural shade of light as they walk past the hustling crowds, allowing the sounds of chatter to fall into a shimmer of soft murmurs not blaringly loud.

 

Irene recognizes the makeup stand, "Unnie, red lipstick makes me look mature doesn't it? And it looks great on your cheek!"

 

"Joohyun?"

 

Irene blinks away the image reel from her eyes, "Y-yeah?" she says, suddenly stuffy at the memory of plump lips on her skin.

 

Seungwan points up and Irene sees snowflakes cascade down from starry skies, twinkling in shimmers that it momentarily keeps Irene in awe as snow silvers down like rain; gradually washing the neon colors of yellow lampposts off into specks of twinkling white.

 

"I sometimes get carried away when I watch them fall," Seungwan says beside her, their fingers clutching loosely together. "They make the noises disappear,"

 

Irene tilts her head as Seungwan continues keeping her gaze upwards.

 

"Are they gone?" She asks, squeezing gently so the cold doesn't flit between the spaces of their hands.

 

Seungwan looks like she's about to turn her head to look at her before her gaze settles for the ground instead, dusts of shiny white stuck in crevices of the sidewalk.

 

"I… I don't know if…"

 

"… If?" Irene parrots, urging her out of her circle of hesitation.

 

Irene catches a glimpse of Seungwan's eyes before she stares back at the spots of snow on her brown boots, but the swirling loops painting across brown pools make her dizzy.

 

Seungwan tugs Irene closer, as if shy at the confession but Irene's not sure why her pull loosens the grip of her nails from her heart.

 

"… If I even want the noises to go away," Irene has to strain her ears as Seungwan's voice trails into quiet murmurs. "… What does it mean if I don't want them to?"

 

"Do they hurt you?" Irene asks, bending to meet Seungwan's avoidant gaze. "When you hear the noises; does it hurt?"

 

"… No," her timid voice squeaks out, but Irene can see Seungwan's eyes between curtains of auburn. They look lost, nervous – unsure, but hopeful.

 

Irene doesn't know why she does it, but she eases Seungwan's lip from being harshly bit, rubbing a thumb over the indent so Seungwan would release the poor flesh from gnawing teeth.

 

"Then it means it's okay to think about it, whatever it is."

 

They continue on their trek for dinner, hands cradled together like they're sewn there. Irene takes Seungwan's sudden closeness (a hand encircled around her arm) and cheek pressed against her shoulder as a sign that they're okay, since she could see Seungwan's eyes again.

 

Irene likes her eyes, even when they're misted in colors and waves of things Irene can't distinguish, because it patches the scars her nails leave across her torn chest like bandages, healing and shielding.

 

-

 

Wendy wonders if Joohyun skips sleep.

 

It's already 4 AM (she needed the bathroom because it's so cold now considering snow was sticking to stay and she was freezing in her bed) and Joohyun's fingers continue to click away on her keyboard, typing like her brain still works properly at such an ungodly hour.

 

Wendy would have thought it to be normal if it weren't for the laptop's screen light beaming across Joohyun's face. She's baffled at how she missed the dark wells looming down like dripping honey beneath pressed makeup. Or maybe the circles have darkened enough that makeup couldn't hide them much anymore.

 

Wendy aims to remedy that – if only for one night.

 

"Um… Joohyun?"

 

"Hm?" Joohyun responds distractedly, fingers dabbing at the keys in rhythm as Wendy goes through the script and motions in her head.

 

They had dinner together just several hours ago, and the first snowfall was as amazing as it had been a year ago (she would have never anticipated sharing it with a person who understood her), though it did nothing to quell the thrumming sounds in her ears and chest; remaining as loud as they were the minute Seulgi gave her heart away.

 

It hasn't really settled in yet; these… noises (she wants to say feelings but it numbs her tongue and the word doesn't leave her lips). They're out in the open, in the nooks and cranny of her mind, coloring behind her eyes in warmth and relief of finally understanding why she yearns to just be close to Joohyun and never let go.

 

It still scares her, how her want sometimes feel like need. She finds herself unable to discern the two at times whenever Joohyun smiles her way, and Wendy wonders if feeling so anxious yet happy is something healthy to keep.

 

She knew Joohyun couldn't read the letter from her eyes, considering the way she still looks at her like things are the same, even when they aren't anymore (Wendy herself has changed, but she's not sure if it's for the better).

 

She twiddles with her fingers, shuffling closer to the busy girl and hopes she's convincing enough.

 

It takes five seconds to get comfortable, twenty seconds to register the heat, thirty-five seconds to know it's not going anywhere, and sixty seconds to fall asleep.

 

"I – um, I know we're not really, um – that close and…" Wendy is marveled at her false bravado, keeping it going as Joohyun looks up from her computer. "… I know a blanket is naturally, well, more practical,"

 

"… That's why there are such things as blankets." Joohyun says matter-of-factly, but her tone doesn't imply any hostility towards the incoming suggestion.

 

Wendy pouts a little, but it doesn't stop her from her script, keeping her façade of nervous limbs and stuttering lips (were they just pretend though?) as she glances at Joohyun's dark circles to continue on.

 

"… But because I don't get, well, warm enough with just a blanket, can I…" Joohyun raises a brow, ushering her to continue, and Wendy blushes at the steady gaze Joohyun is giving her. "…C-can I hold onto you?" She doesn't mean to stutter then (it's not part of her impromptu speech) but she's inwardly proud of her masked display.

 

"And no need for sleepovers when you got a roommate to ask instead, hm?" Seulgi's voice plays in her head, teasing and playful.

 

Joohyun blinks, trying to process the innocent request. Her voice comes out curious, glancing at the thermostat near the doorway.

 

"Is the heater not on?"

 

"I-It is, I'm just – well, really sensitive."

 

The taller girl speaks once the gears turn in her head. "...Why not just use your portable heater?"

 

She remembers Joohyun prodding her about the item, amusement lining her lips as Wendy struggled to mention about being easily cold during the winter (she was just so embarrassed).

 

Wendy shakes her head, "It's… It's not good enough," she mutters, fiddling with her fingers and stares at a small speck of dust around the edges of her desk chair.

 

Joohyun hums, contemplating, "…So you want us to sleep together,"

 

Wendy sputters a response akin to the jitters in her heart and she's not sure why it's still doing that.

 

"J-J-Just for sixty seconds –"

 

Joohyun quirks a brow, "A minute?"

 

"S-same thing," Wendy mumbles shyly, well aware of the skeptical stare Joohyun is giving her at the moment.

 

The plan of having soft brown eyes rest keeps her going; it can't be healthy to lose sleep, not when the marks are visible under her eyes.

 

Wendy tries not to stare at the corners of Joohyun's lips that begin to curve upwards. Joohyun prods on steadily, almost amusedly,

 

"... And do what?" Her question is innocent yet teasing; amusement lining and Wendy drops her gaze back to the ground because she can't level with Joohyun's eyes. It's daunting.

 

Wendy begins to play with the ends of her sleeves, her fringe acting as a hood for her expression and she's thankful it covers her from Joohyun's curious sight.

 

She mumbles beneath her breath and Joohyun has to motion closer to catch the rest of her sentence. "I-It takes sixty seconds - a minute - to make me warm and fall asleep,"

 

"That's..." Wendy lifts her head enough so that she can peek through her bangs, "… that's actually pretty fast," Joohyun says simply, and Wendy almost sighs in relief at the lack of hostility.

 

Joohyun needs sleep.

 

Wendy clears before reiterating her request, hiding behind curtains of light auburn when Joohyun directs her gaze back to her. "…Which is why, um, if it's not too much to ask," Wendy looks at her wristwatch for support, its presence helping anchor her down. "… I want you to hold me," she forces the blush to stay beneath her teal sweater, not rising any farther up than her collarbone (hopefully).

 

Joohyun hums again, "Until you fall asleep?" she asks thoughtfully, a finger tapping lightly against her chin.

 

"…Yes," Wendy's not sure whether she should add onto it to tilt it fully towards her favor – she should though, because Joohyun doesn't look like she's going to give in – and hopes all will go well. "… Please?"

 

… She immediately regrets it because it comes out as a pathetic squeak instead.

 

Wendy flushes the brightest red she has compared to her colorful wardrobe and buries her face in shaky hands (keeping it from her face never works). She hopes her hair helps with covering her flaring shame that's coloring her cheeks.

 

She's so embarrassed and was already more than halfway through her apology speech that was being computed in her head that Wendy jumps at the gentle pressure pressing down on her head.

 

Wendy hesitates to look up (because what if the red is still on her face?) that she doesn't realize the older girl's hand is patting her crown until Joohyun's voice drives away the nerves in her fingers and the tremors go louder in her heart.

 

"Okay," It was as simple as Joohyun herself; the gentle lilt lining her tone so well that Wendy forgets the rest of her script.

 

Stumbling over words that normally come as easily as counting the ticks in her head, Wendy manages to shield her face from Joohyun's amused gaze as she reaches up to take a hold of the taller girl's hand.

 

Wendy's grateful and relieved and thankful and apologetic – because Joohyun has to deal with someone as difficult as her and that's not okay (especially on a daily basis) – and just a bunch of things, that the sounds that come out of become a jumbled mess of syllables and slurred words and that's not how she should be thanking her, so Wendy's stuttering apologies again.

 

Even if at the root of it all it's just so Joohyun would sleep.

 

"Thank you, and – um, I'm sorry for this, really! I hope I'm not intruding or anything because – well, you're the first person who's willing to deal with living with me and I know people don't tolerate me for very long so I promise I'll stay out of your way so thank you and I'm sorry again –"

 

It's not part of the script, so what is she doing –

 

"You're welcome," Wendy barely registers the quiet reply until Joohyun tugs back her hand gently, but not enough that Wendy has to let it go. "You're welcome," Joohyun says again, softly but firmly, lowering her head so she is eye level with Wendy's. "…You're welcome, Seungwan."

 

Wendy doesn't know how the repeated phrase can carry so much meaning to her, how it can tell her "You're welcome, don't apologize, I'm here, don't worry," and everything else in between from the way Joohyun's lips are curved upwards with a smile that's warm and gentle to her eyes that are tender and soft.

 

Joohyun's hand is still cradled between her fingers, and Wendy looks down to stare at her own hands stilled from their normal tremor. Droplets of something warm and wet begin to fall onto her fingers that Wendy hasn't registered what was happening until her tears are being wiped away.

 

Why was she even crying? This wasn't part of the script –

 

"…Sorry," She shakes her head quickly at Joohyun's unnecessary apology, but stops when Joohyun cradles the space behind her ear and to her jaw and neck with her free hand.

 

Her thumb is wiping off the stains left on her cheek that Wendy settles her gaze downwards to avoid such undivided attention. It doesn't work because a second later Joohyun is leveled with her, trying to peek from under her messy fringe as she silently continues to dry the water beneath her eyes.

 

Joohyun's so persistent. It reminds her of that night, where fear laced Joohyun's voice, "Were you trying to get yourself killed?!" the screeching of tires fading into nothing.

 

Wendy vaguely wonders if the letter is still written across her eyes. She hopes Joohyun can't read it.

 

Once they're settled into her bed, Wendy isn't sure how to reach out to her. And maybe Joohyun has a knack of understanding her body language that the taller girl catches on and pulls the smaller girl towards her, arms secured around her waist that Wendy can feel the warmth seep through.

 

It takes five seconds to get comfortable,

 

Wendy thinks it's automatic, but she's not really counting anymore as she reaches the front of Joohyun's black sweater.

 

Twenty seconds to register the heat,

 

It plays like a record player in her head, timidly shifting forward so she can hug the girl better.

 

Thirty-five seconds to know it's not going anywhere,

 

Joohyun's soft chuckles tickle her forehead (did she just say it out loud?), and Wendy is starting to like resting against the crook of her neck.

 

And sixty seconds to fall asleep,

 

Wendy remembers vividly, and her eyes flutter shut at the warmth of her hold.

 

Joohyun's rhythmic heart is the only thing she can hear now, and Wendy likes the sound of it.

 

-

 

Okay so 'she'/'her' was not revealed here (I was planning to but then it felt a little too fast) so I figured to delay it to next chapter instead (very sorry!) – considering this is already more than long enough. Hopefully the hints I've thrown here give you a clearer picture of who it may be.

And here it is; fluff – or at least, my version of it, as well as a closer look of what goes on in their heads.