Title: Falling Up Into Your Arms Genre: Romance (?) (I honestly have no idea) Length: 1538 words Characters: Irene, Wendy Pairing: WenRene A/N: I don't know what this is because I wrote most of this at 3 am and I just wrote whatever comes into my head. Haven't edited this yet, and maybe I won't. Sorry.       There's a cold shiver that runs down from her exposed shoulder to her fingertips that makes Wendy's eyes shoot open. After a few seconds, the coldness gradually numbs the exposed part of Wendy's body – that is her shoulders and neck. The rest of her body is covered by two thick blankets – one that is a pristine white, and the other that is a nearly glowing pink with small white bunnies printed all over. It takes her a few moments to remember that it is winter and she lifts the blankets – which she has come to notice, aren't hers as well – to see that, oh, she's still .   As Wendy sits up on the bed, she doesn't remember what happened yesterday, but she knows what happened, because it happens every single time. She sees folded clothes lying neatly on the wooden study table near the bed, and when she lands her feet on the floor, she notices that the floor is heated and the warmth helps her as she slips on the jeans and oversized sweater that smells like sweet, sweet vanilla with a hint of lavender.   The door isn't closed, has never been whenever Wendy wakes up in this familiar apartment. The apartment isn't hers, but she doesn't have to keep her eyes open as she rubs her eyes with her hand, proceeding where she knows is the living room. The apartment smells like a mixture of vanilla, lavender and nicotine, and Wendy doesn't need to keep her eyes open to know where – or rather who – the last scent is coming from.   But she opens her eyes anyway, and the first thing she spots is Irene's side profile and the smoke slowly wisping from between her lips and up and up and up before it vanishes. She doesn't move for a while – opting to study Irene. Irene is sitting cross legged on the couch, a half-done cigarette in between her index finger and middle finger of her right hand, and the other hand resting idly on her calf. Her eyes are half-lidded as she stares at – Wendy thinks – nothing, and she brings the cigarette to her lips, taking a short drag before she rests her hand on her right knee, the smoke slowly wisping out from in between her lips and up and up and up before it vanishes.   Wendy continues observing from her position – observing Irene in her idle state. She marvels at the differences of Irene in mornings, and Irene at nights – nights usually mean 2 in the morning. She's seen Irene in many different states, and she finds that Irene is beautiful no matter which state she is in.   Irene decides to break the silence after she pulls the cigarette away from her lips to tap it twice on the glass ash tray on the coffee table in front of her, not bothering to meet eyes with Wendy as she mutters, just loud enough for Wendy to hear, "It's rude to stare."   Wendy snaps out of her thoughts – more of a trance – and she blinks before walking over to the kitchen, not bothering to give a reply to Irene's statement but instead opting to ask, "Have you eaten breakfast?"   Irene replies with a short, "No."   Wendy hums in acknowledgement, starting to take out ingrediants for her to cook bacon and eggs. As she takes out the last packet of bacon, she reminds Irene, "Remember to buy bacon."   Wendy doesn't get a reply, but she's okay with that because she knows Irene will remember – she doesn't forge