Irene's fingers pause just above the handle of the sink, ears perking up at her salon's bell chime.

 

With a towel swiping her skin dry between small hands, Irene walks out towards the counter to recite her routine greeting.

 

"Welcome," her smile is automatic, "Have a seat and I'll be with you shortly."

 

She gestures towards a chair by the window, closer to a pile of magazines to help ease the boredom.

 

Irene hears the signature snips of scissors and a muzzling whistle of a hairdryer several steps behind her, knowing her coworkers are currently working their magic as she eyes the new patron settling herself in.

 

The customer sends her a small smile, showing she's heard and Irene takes that split second to memorize her appearance.

 

Silky long auburn locks curling simple elegance beneath slim beige cheeks, blue t-shirt under a cream colored cardigan, with navy blue jeans hugging curves down to a pair of half crisp-clean white vans; her lips a deep red.

 

Irene's heel is already spinning to make strides back to her post, images of the customer reaching out to pluck a magazine from the jumbled pile etching pictures across a filled slate of short-term memory.

 

Her body runs like well-oiled machinery, motions automatic as she gathers her utensils to reorganize them once again, remembering her previous patron's happy grin at her shorter hair.

 

"Joohyun unnie, can you show me what else your fingers can do to me?"

 

Irene still can't bring herself to believe that Sooyoung had risked her soft hair for such a sleazy remark, recalling how she had nearly chopped off all of Sooyoung's ebony locks if it hadn't been for her timely remedy of promising to buy her bundles of fabric softener.

 

"Bye Soo."

 

"Love you too, unnie. And it's JOY."

 

Chuckling at a memory from just 10 minutes ago, Irene strides back to her next customer, ushering her past small pools of chopped off hair on marble flooring and into a chair with an oval mirror; she can smell tinges of soft lilac.

 

"What can I do for you today, miss...?"

 

"Oh, it's Seungwan – but i prefer Wendy!"

 

The stranger's calm expression immediately brightens at the notion of a conversation, her once quiet – even slightly mysterious, exterior a clear façade to her sunlight personality.

 

Irene watches with laughter lines curling the corners of her lips at the quick transition, readjusting her memory picture of Wendy to fit this cheery contradiction.

 

"Um," Wendy's brows crinkle at the mirror, as if squinting. "'Irene' – hi! Do you speak English?" Her voice takes on a pitch higher, excitement and curiosity ebbing away at the edges of her question at the sight of her nametag.

 

Irene finds it endearing how glee falls between Wendy's teeth, glittering her lips with happiness from just how she speaks.

 

Wendy talks like they're long lost friends – her ability to disperse looming shadows of awkward clouds flitting the air between them a trait Irene managed to learn after years of uncomfortable tension.

 

Irene shakes her head, "It's a name that my regular customers gave to me, so I'm using it now."

 

"Your customers gave you a new name?"

 

"Something about 'peace' – they all talk too much that I can't remember."

 

Irene recalls how Sooyoung and Yerim had been throwing the name around, with 'peace' as part of its description but the reason behind it escapes her. She doesn't know why she tolerates them – then again, she does (regulars were blessings for their consistency, after all).

 

"That's sweet of them," Wendy taps a finger against her cheek, as if in thought, her other hand dabbing fingers along a lock of her auburn hair. "I want to try having a fringe. Do you think it'd look good on me?"

 

Irene's sense of work immediately lines the contours of her limbs, imagining what Wendy would look like with bangs that cover her forehead. Irene compares the picture with Wendy's current appearance, her hair shaping the edges of her face parted just slightly at the middle.

 

"You'd look cute,"

 

"Am I not cute now?" Wendy's lips have coiled into a pout, forcing Irene to avoid the reflection of the mirror.

 

"Y-You are, just –" Irene scowls at her stammer, vaguely wondering why she's even stuttering. "— Erm, so a fringe right? Want a trim for the rest?" She avoids as if desperate, already sifting through her equipment for the perfect job.

 

Wendy laughs like she's made up of every tiny bits of happiness from simple things, voice a tinkling chime more pleasant than the bell attached to her salon's door, noting the way one of her eyes fold tighter, as if it's trying to hold it all in.

 

Irene catches each frame of beauty from the corner of her eyes, taking note of Wendy's cheery innocence and how it sharply contrasts to every single customer she's had.

 

When Wendy gives her the okay, "Yes please!" Irene ushers out of the chair to head near the back, leading her to settle into a new seat to wash her hair.

 

"Okay, just lean back and close your eyes." Irene instructs, watching Wendy rest her head against a cushion near a small custom sink.

 

Flitting her hands through silky auburn, Irene lifts Wendy's hair from the back to let long strands pool beneath a faucet. Squeezing shampoo into her hands, Irene rubs them between her fingers before brushing them against Wendy's scalp.

 

She massages across soft surface, pressing gently into tender spots, running circles and zig-zags near Wendy's temple, the back of her ears, to above her nape.

 

Irene watches bubbles of white absorb auburn, swallowing her hands whole in fluffy soap clouds.

 

She almost freezes up at a sound too intimate to be found in a hair salon.

 

"Mmm..." Wendy's throat sounds heavy with pleasure that it momentarily staggers Irene into a jolt – pausing briefly to register the noise before continuing again, like nothing happened.

 

Irene attempts to keep calm, pretending she doesn't hear how she's eliciting such dirty sounds from Wendy, her fingers going through the usual motion. She dares to take a glance at her face, seeing how the girl's eyes are shut with a smile like she's content.

 

It shouldn't surprise her when a customer hums out their satisfaction – it was something that always accompanied a simple hair wash.

 

Sooyoung and Yerim were no exceptions – Irene dared say it was probably the two younger girl's favorite part of the routine. They always exaggerated their groans though, attempting to make her squirm when they merely raised her tolerance for such sounds instead.

 

Wendy mewls under a pressure at a particular spot.

 

Oh sh—

 

Irene almost yanks her hands back along with fistfuls of soapy hair at Wendy's groan, the sound managing to feel too intimate that Irene starts wondering if she's been secretly taking advantage of all her customers to make them spill sounds like this.

 

"Keep going, unnie..."

 

God—

 

"U-Unnie?!" Irene parrots, yelping, her fingers slipping to free themselves from an auburn trap.

 

She's been called that so often that it startles her how Wendy's pleasured hum could make her chest ricochet with confusion and excitement.

 

Irene blinks at Wendy's wide eyes, watching how pink begins to color the customer's cheeks to pool beneath her suddenly meek gaze.

 

"S-Sorry," she sees how Wendy blushes, biting her lip that Irene knows she knows how the awkward cloud is over them. "I'm just guessing that you're older – um, are you?"

 

She doesn't know how to answer such an innocent question when Wendy's pink cheeks tell her she had just been making sounds that should only be found behind closed doors of a bedroom.

 

At least Wendy's trying to pretend nothing had happened – which nothing did, of course. Obviously.

 

Irene manages to mutter '91-liner' and it brings Wendy's cheerful smile back.

 

"Hi, unnie! You're really good with your hands."

 

Irene watches a barrage of expressions color over Wendy's face: from a genuine compliment to momentary pause, before slight confusion mists her lips to have embarrassment peel off her smile and replace it with startled shock.

 

She wonders if Wendy makes her eyebrows exercise every minute of the day to express her emotions so precisely.

 

"I-I mean – that's not what I, um, I mean it is, just..." Wendy's muffling her voice with her hands, her eyes fluttering everywhere and nowhere that Irene is slightly worried she'd make herself dizzy.

 

Irene pokes at Wendy's expressive left brow, tiny bubbles of soap latching onto the soft hairs above wide shy eyes.

 

"People have been telling me that I should open a massage parlor," she says, attempting to ease the red off Wendy's cheeks; the poor girl looked like she'd have a with all the blood going to her head. "Thanks. I get what you mean so don't worry about it."

 

Irene finds it endearing how Wendy nods behind her hands, her palms no doubt attempting to hide the stains of flaring heat covering her face.

 

Leaning back, Wendy shuts her eyes again and Irene resumes her work.

 

They don't say anything more, finishing her task up with a quick thorough rinse, not forgetting to wipe off the tinge of soap bubbles she left on Wendy's left brow with a thumb.

 

Irene can't help the smile curving her lips when Wendy giggles under her gentle touch, her left eye scrunching up just a tad more, as if to hide the beauty behind bright pools of brown.

 

"Now that you've pretty much taken a shower, let's go get you that haircut."

 

-

 

"I've never seen a bear mascot represent a hair salon before. Is that why the name is 'Teddy Scissors'?"

 

Irene glances at the large bear waving and greeting passerby's near the entrance of the building, laughing gently at the children that loiter about to give the mascot a hug.

 

"Seulgi had always wanted to work as a mascot," she begins, snipping at strands of brown. "And because I'm such a good best friend, I let her work as one."

 

Wendy's laughter is a song in her ears that Irene momentarily forgets that she shouldn't be staring and listening to her sing.

 

"That's cute. She was quite the surprise when I came by." Wendy giggles, playing with the plastic over her body, lifting it up slightly to pat the snips of hair off to slide to the floor. "I thought I made a wrong turn into the teddy bear workshop that most kids won't stop gushing about."

 

Irene chuckles at the comparison, brushing away stray wet strands from Wendy's face.

 

"Seulgi said she was jealous of the girl who got the job over there. I felt bad so..." She takes another peek when she hears children laugh through the open gap of the door as a customer walks out. "...Yeah. She makes a good teddy bear though. I'll probably make her stay since she attracts so many customers."

 

Wendy laughs.

 

"She does. I felt like hugging her because she looked so fluffy." Wendy's smile is soft, a sheet of fondness curtaining over her eyes.

 

"You should before you leave. She gives great hugs." Irene quips as she measures the next length of hair to cut, leveling the strands just above her brows.

 

Her teeth presses against her bottom lip, biting to steady her hands.

 

"...Can I get a hug from you too?"

 

Irene almost cuts at an angle that would've sheared off Wendy's beautiful hair into something horribly horrendous if it hadn't been for her hard bite on her own lip.

 

She yelps, staggering backwards to turn away, grimacing at the pain thrumming her lip. Irene blanches at the taste of iron on her tongue before attempting to wipe it off with her fingers.

 

"Here," Wendy pops in from the side, her hair still visibly damp, loose strands curling beneath her chin. She passes her a piece of tissue from the counter. "Sorry. Are you okay?"

 

Irene nods, waving a dismissive hand, urging her to sit back on her seat, but Wendy doesn't listen, stepping closer to dab at her lip, worry coloring her expression.

 

She winces under Wendy’s tender touch, vaguely wondering if it was okay for her to stare at red, red lips before realizing exactly what they were doing.

 

Irene grips at her wrist, pushing her gently to urge her back to her chair. She ignores the frown on her customer's lips.

 

"Sorry, I'm normally not this clumsy. I'm fine though – it has happened before." Irene remarks on her own mishap, pretending she doesn't see the way several pairs of eyes follow their movements. A public salon, after all.

 

"...You sure?"  Wendy stares at her through the mirror with a look resembling too close to an, 'I don't believe you'.

 

Irene laughs her doubt away, silencing her by settling in front her to grasp at her hair, smoothing it between her fingers. She sees how Wendy's frown hides behind long lengths of auburn.

 

"I'm sure." Irene reassures her, kneeling to meet her eyes that hide behind curtains of hair.

 

It's automatic when her lip gets caught between her teeth again (it helps her focus), iron drawing along her taste buds. Irene steadies her hands before slowly snipping across; her scissors cutting smooth locks away.

 

She makes sure to be careful, not wanting to etch scars on smooth skin. Irene pretends she doesn't find it hard not to look at how Wendy's eyes are squinted to a close, her face gradually making its appearance from every cut of her scissors; flecks of auburn making pools around her feet.

 

Her hands sculpt an image she has in her head, how the style would fit along the shape of her cheekbones to how it cascades over small shoulders. Irene wants to carve perfection akin to the wearer with happiness for her lips; she can't allow it to be anything less than that.

 

The sounds of hairdryers and patrons chattering fall short in her ears, barely grasping at her lobes only to slip off, Wendy's soft humming a louder distraction to the noise everywhere else; the scent of lilac only adding to her spell.

 

Irene lifts stray portions to make clean cuts, adding the finishing touches, her fingers flitting through Wendy's newly acquired bangs.

 

She finds it hard to ignore the sudden stutter in her chest, how Wendy wears her art like a fitted glove, her eyes gradually opening to smile at her.

 

"There, it's –" Irene begins, attempting to keep her heart from stopping, only to pause at Wendy's tender touch to her lip.

 

"Do you have ointment? Like Vaseline? It'll help with the healing process..." Wendy probes, her thumb circling around the cut, rubbing away at the small bits of blood Irene knows are there.

 

She watches the way Wendy swipes at it clean, how her skin carries red that Irene takes her hand to wipe it off precious porcelain, pretending she doesn't feel her skin burn under Wendy's. Irene dismisses Wendy's surprised look as she flutters her fingers through Wendy's fringe, fixing her hair and making sure auburn has been sculpted to be worthy of kind perfection.

 

"I do, but let me just dry your hair first okay?" Irene doesn't understand how she could stray away from her work so easily as today. How uncharacteristic of her.

 

Wendy's hum of approval is all she needs to hear before her hand flits through her scalp, brushing away waves of auburn as the dryer whistles air to remove the tinges of water that are left. She adds a simple drop of oil treatment for silky shine once she's done, shaping the form of her art to curve along the slopes of Wendy's cheeks, fluttering her bangs so it adds slight volume as well as sharpness along the structure of her brows.

 

"What do you think?" Irene asks, stepping aside to let Wendy see her reflection.

 

Wendy's eyes shimmer with delight, how her cheeks color a savory scarlet from the happiness that dance along the edges of her lips.

 

Irene wonders how Wendy manages to keep her gaze from looking anywhere else but at the reddish hues of her customer’s mouth.

 

"I love it!" She jumps, startling Irene as the older girl unclasps the plastic cover, almost dropping it from Wendy's quick embrace.

 

Irene coughs her surprise, patting her back and ignoring how much Wendy's breathing against her neck is making heat rise to scorch her skin. It takes a moment before Wendy finally lets go, noting how the younger girl beams at her as soon as she pulls away, all pearly whites; her eyes contoured by the arches of her fringe, highlighting her glee.

 

"Cute." The word slips from Irene's lips before she could catch it behind her teeth.

 

Wendy gives her a knowing look, how curls up at the corners, and Irene just wants to run.

 

"I know." She says simply, confidently. Wendy passes her the exact change, curving her fingers over Irene's palm before reaching out to run a thumb over her wounded lip. "I think I owe you more than a hug now, though."

 

Irene doesn't get to ask when Wendy leans in, playing as a band-aid to her simple cut, replacing a long faded pain with her particular shade of red lipstick.

 

The scent of tender lilac filter through, dizzying Irene before Wendy pulls away, whispering, "Thanks again," dancing eyelashes along Irene's cheeks from a kiss that heals better than any treatment.

 

Wendy leaves her to her turbulent silence, not forgetting to send a wink as a goodbye that squeezes what little air Irene has left in her lungs.

 

She watches how she hugs Seulgi goodbye, the mascot's giant fluffy hand encircling her tiny waist before disappearing behind gaggles of people; Wendy’s faded presence failing to restore the oxygen she needs to breathe again.

 

Irene doesn't let her walk away knowing Wendy is wearing her kiss.

 

"Seulgi, you're in charge. I'll be right back." She calls over her shoulder, frantic, passing a dismissive wave at Seulgi's flailing hands and muffled question ("Where are you going?"); she vaguely hears her.

 

Irene’s steps are quick, following the scent trail of lilac, yanking her red pea coat off the hook to chase after a woman who still has her heart on her lips.

 

-

 

Quick, pointless, fluff. Happy Wenrene day. And yes, bear mascot Seulgi.

 

Hope you all have enjoyed this one-shot. Until next time.