It was the most cliche of early winter mornings: the sun had yet to rise and the stars were shining bright; they twinkled alongside the freshly fallen snow that covered the ground in a white blanket, muting the crisp air and casting everything a different shade of blue. 

The cold front had come in a week ago, and with it, the imminent holiday cheer that had been bubbling in everyone’s chests ever since Thanksgiving. Trees went up, candy canes went on display, and everything was on sale in the good-natured commercial spirit of Christmas.

And Irene was freezing her off.

Really, she shouldn’t have been, and she wouldn’t have been, if Wendy hadn’t caught the flu and the Christmas party hadn’t been moved to her house. But the flu went rampant in poor Wendy’s apartment complex, so it was now up to Irene to “save the holidays,” as the woman had so eloquently put it whilst emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Apparently, “saving the holidays” included not only the already arduous tasks of baking, cooking, and setting up a tree, but also putting up Christmas lights in front of her house. And since Irene and her broke harbored less holiday spirit and generosity than Wendy by far, she didn’t own Christmas lights.

Thus, her broke was now out in the cold, growing icicles as she assessed her house to figure out the optimal amount of Christmas lights she could purchase and have set up before the day’s end for the lowest price possible. That was the other thing; Irene needed to have the lights set up, too. No way in hell was she going to spend more time outside than necessary. 

Blowing out a puff of predictably cold air, she flicked through the flyers for house decoration that Wendy had so kindly given her. Three of them came in various shades of yellow, and Irene wrinkled her nose in disgust simply from looking at the color.

“Nobody who gives out flyers in lemon yellow can be trusted,” she muttered, tossing them out into the snow. “Don’t eat the yellow snow; don’t touch the yellow flyers.” The woman blew on her hands before glancing at the other two.

Blue. Taemin’s Light and Decorating Services. Not half bad.

$200 flat rate.The blue flyer joined the yellow flyers out in the snow. 

Irene sighed heavily, shaking her limbs out and peering at the last flyer. “Lavender!” A smile graced Irene’s face for a split second before the cold in her cheek muscles caught up to her and she winced. “Ouch.” 

She looked back down at the flyer. Kang Lawn and Home Decorating Company. $50 flat rate for lawn services and outdoor decorations - Holiday Discount for lights! Only $25!

Irene blinked. “How are these guys not out of business?” Shaking her head, she pulled out her phone and eyed the number. “Worth a try.” Before the cold could nip at her fingers too much, she swiftly pulled off her gloves, dialed the number, and put them back on. Just as she finished pulling her left glove back onto her frozen hands, a gravelly voice came through on the other side.

“Kang Lawn and Home Decorating Company, how may I help you?” Whoever it was - Mr. Kang - sounded positively terrible. 

Irene assessed the risks in her head before answering. Rough voice? A smoker, perhaps? Male… maybe in his forties? A e? Stalker? Serial killer?

A violent cough resounded in her ear, interrupting her chain of thoughts. “Oh, yes, um, I was wondering if I could get my house outfitted with Christmas lights?” Even if this man was any of the above, she would simply have to trust him for the time being. It was a stranger or the wrath of Wendy when she realized she’d be having a Christmas party with no lights; Irene would take the stranger any day.

“Yeah, okay.” Nonetheless, the man sounded like his soul had left his body. Out in the cold, Irene could relate. “When do you need the lights by?”

Before Wendy could call her to check up on her progress. “Ah, in the next… hour, if you could?” She winced unconsciously at the thought of making some poor guy come out in the cold at this early hour. But it seemed to be of no issue to the man on the line.

“Okay. Give me your name and address and we’ll have somebody out there within 30 minutes.” Irene quirked an eyebrow. Damn fast service, that was. She relayed the information back to him and ended the call.

Finally. The warmth of her indoor heater was calling her.

---

It was, of course, just as Irene was starting to make herself a cup of hot cocoa that her doorbell rang. She rolled her eyes. What else did she expect? Seems like Christmas came early. 

Setting her cup down on the counter remorsefully, Irene walked to the door at a sloth's pace, savoring the warmth of her home before she had to face the bitter cold. A deep inhale brought her inner peace as she prepared to open the door, and -

The doorbell rang again. Irene scowled and threw open the door, forcing herself not to splutter indignantly as the frigid air whooshed right into her face. Instinctively, she screwed her eyes shut at the chilling sensation, but opened them again, recalling that there was, indeed, a visitor. She sighed, expecting to deal with some middle aged ert with visible hair up his asscrack and focused her eyes on the bottom of her doorframe. The petite girl really didn't want to have to look until it was necessary.

"You're Bae Irene, right?" A soft voice tinkled in the said woman's ears, and her head snapped up. This was not the same voice as the phone guy. Nope, not a damn chance. Irene's eyes widened as she found a tall, lean, rosy-cheeked, female stranger at her door, smiling faintly with a bundle of Christmas lights slung over her shoulder. The stranger smiled brightly at Irene's shell-shocked reaction. "What, do you know me or something?"

God, she sounded like everything warm and fuzzy. Irene blinked up at her, then knocked herself out of her reverie. She chuckled nervously. "Well, no, you're just - you're not the guy on the phone." The taller girl laughed, her eyes creasing up into crescents. 

Irene found herself lost just looking at the stranger yet again. Hell, this girl even looked warm in the freezing weather. Her laughter died down a bit as she spoke. "That was my dad you were speaking to. I apologize; he's caught the flu and it's made him a bit rougher around the edges than usual."

Irene couldn't help but smile at the girl's good natured responses. She really did look so warm. Warm, the petite woman decided, would be the best word to describe everything about her. And beautiful. The stranger offered her hand to Irene and broke the short silence. "I'm Seulgi. Better to put a name to a face, right?"

"Ah, yes. I'm - " Irene stopped herself. Seulgi already knew her name. " - pleased to meet you." Irene gave herself a mental pat on the back for her genius save. She took Seulgi's hand and her eyes widened yet again. Perhaps the girl looked like she housed a million fresh gingerbread cookies, but her hand was freezing cold.

Right. It was freezing cold outside. Seulgi quirked an eyebrow at their still joined hands and moved to pull away, but yelped as Irene yanked her inside and shut the front door. The shorter girl glanced apologetically at her before turning to lock the door, and Seulgi couldn't help but find it adorable. "Sorry about that," Irene muttered, "but your hand was cold, and I realized it was cold outside, and - "

Seulgi cut her tangent off politely. "It's fine. I'm here to work outside, remember?" Lifting the Christmas lights from her shoulder, she smiled down at Irene. "Oh. Right." Blushing, Irene walked briskly to the kitchen and grabbed her now lukewarm mug of hot cocoa. "I suppose you'd want me to show you where to hang them up, then...?"

The taller girl shrugged and casually tugged on the hem of her sweater. "You could do that. Or you could just stay in the warmth of your house and trust me to hang up the lights in a good place." Seulgi shot her a cocky smile accompanied by an oh-so-terribly charming wink, and Irene swore that it hit her right in the heart. "I've been doing this since high school, so I think the latter option would be a plus for you." This girl seemed too potent to keep in her house - keep? Have? Accomodate, more appropriately? - so Irene decided to take protective measures, mostly for her own well-being.

And, perhaps, for the fact that she wasn't quite sure what sort of mess she'd make if she stayed in an enclosed space with Seulgi much longer. It had been five minutes since she'd opened the door, but she had already figured out that the taller girl was an unacceptably attractive void armed with Christmas lights and a charming everything, and Irene was pretty sure she was falling in.

"Well, then." Irene marched back over to the front door, mentally steeling herself and prepared to battle both the