Teddy Bear
We'll build castles in the skySynopsis: Irene's high school life is thrown into chaos when a small, cute teddy bear appears in her class (and later her dorm).
“Listen, Seulgi. I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. So you stay on your side of the room, and I’ll stay on my side. We both don’t talk to each other unless absolutely necessary. Understood?”
“I never said I didn’t like you, Miss Irene.” Seulgi piped up, eyes widening. (She doesn’t look cute. Not at all.)
“You humiliated me in class, need I remind you of that? Even if you don’t not like me, I don’t like you, so that should be enough. Now get your stuff in and don’t bother me anymore.” Irene snaps, patience wearing thin. This girl just flipped her world upside down in 24 hours. Not only was she a smart-, she was also rooming with her, which meant she would be stuck with said smart- for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Could life get any worse?
It could, apparently. Never doubt the universe. “Miss Irene, I… I can’t seem to lift my bag up.” Seulgi squeaked, looking up at Irene with hopeful eyes.
“And what exactly do you want me to do?”
“I was hoping you could help me…?” Seulgi twiddled her thumbs, suddenly intent on studying a speck of dust on the floor.
Irene sighed. I feel a headache coming on. Resigning herself to her fate, she reached for Seulgi’s bag and dragged it into the dorm, slamming the door shut behind her.
#
Quirk 1: Seulgi did not know the meaning of personal space.
Irene was currently huddled up in her blanket, all warm and cosy with a tub of ice-cream, ready to binge-watch a new series on Netflix. It was 9pm, which meant that she might be able to squeeze in a couple of hours sleep before class tomorrow. Everything was set to be perfect. She could even hear Seulgi brushing her teeth in the washroom, which meant that there was no way she could be disturbed.
Oh, how wrong she was.
C’mon, idiot, that crazy girl has a handgun! Get the hell out of that before she shoots you! Irene internally screams, then literally screams for a small, warm lump had just snuggled into her blanket with her. What the heck? She sprang out of bed, almost knocking her computer over, and then leaped halfway across the room to save the tub of ice-cream that had inadvertently flew into the air after her sudden shock.
Thank God the ice cream didn’t spill, I would face hell from the cleaning lady if it did. What was that lump though? Carefully placing the ice-cream to one side, she lifted her blanket up to see Seulgi in her pyjamas, looking up at her with warm and sleepy monolidded eyes, head tilted to one side quizzically.
“Seulgi. What. Are. You. Doing.” Irene breathes, feeling her temper rising faster than the her sugar level. (Okay, so maybe she had been drinking too many frappuccinos and eating unhealthy levels of ice cream, but that’s besides the point.)
“I was just trying to sleep, Miss Irene. But then you jumped out when I tried to get under the blanket with you. Are you alright?” Seulgi crawled over to Irene, moving her face just inches away from Irene’s own. (She’s not cute. Not at all.)
“Why would you get under the blanket with me? You have your own bed right there, with its own blanket, for heaven’s sake. And what did I say about leaving me alone?” Irene hissed.
“But I wanted to sleep with you, Miss Irene.” Seulgi mumbled, face flushed.
“And why is that?”
“Because you feel nice."
Irene’s faced flushed the deepest hue of red, and one tub of ice-cream went uneaten that night.
#
Quirk 2: Seulgi loved home cooked food.
They had settled into a routine. Seulgi would cater for Irene’s three meals a day, and in return, she would get to cuddle with Irene at night. Irene couldn’t help but feel that Seulgi was getting the short end of the stick here - she got free meals and a cuddle session with a living teddy bear. What was there not to like?
It was going to be a month since they had met, and Irene was thinking of surprising Seulgi with dinner at a restaurant. (It wasn’t a date. Not at all.) So at half past six, she went to check on Seulgi, and promptly found her dressed in a large oversized orange shirt and baggy pants, clutching the white rabbit plushie Irene had got her when they went shopping the other weekend. “Are we going now, Miss Irene?” She squeaked, eyes twinkling behind rounded spectacles.
“Yup. Are you going dressed like that?”
Seulgi nodded her head earnestly. Irene looked down at her formal midnight blue dress, and decided that maybe an oversized sweater didn’t sound so bad.
#
They ended up being early for their reservation, so they poured over the menu together.
“What kind of food do you like, Seulgi?” Irene asks, realising that even after a month, she still had no idea of her roommates preferences. The only thing she knew was that Seulgi loved food, judging from the double portions of takeaway she would wolf down while Irene could barely finish her one.
“All kinds!” Seulgi raised her hands up in joy, eyes glowing upon seeing the menu. Irene smiled. She should take her out for dinner more often, cheerful Seulgi was beyond adorable.
“But what kind do you really like?” She probed further. “Surely you have some sort of preference?”
Seulgi shook her head, still all smiles. And maybe Irene imagined it, but she swore she saw a dark look cross Seulgi’s face as her eyes screamed for attention as she mumbled, “Home cooked food is the best.” But Seulgi was cheery again the next second, so she probably had. (It didn’t stop her from grabbing a packet of instant ramyun from the convenience store as they were on the way back.)
#
Irene stared at the packet. It had never, ever occurred to her in her life just what a spoilt brat she was.
How do I not know how to cook Instant Ramyun? Oh lords above, have mercy on my cooking skills as I attempt what is going to be the impossible. She took a huge breath and opened the packet. Out tumbled a block of noodles and two packets of… stuff. One appeared to be some sort of powder - it said soup mix; the other appeared to be vegetables? What was she supposed to do, just toss everything inside a pot and hope for the ramyun gods to cook it? Well, that was kind of simple. She grabbed a pot, tossed everything inside, set the timer for 5 minutes, and waited.
#
Finally, the 5 minutes were over. Trembling with excitement over having successfully cooked her first meal, she opened the pot and saw… one block of noodles and two packets of stuff. What? What went wrong?
She flipped over the packaging of the ramyun again, desperate to find out her error. Oh. She was supposed to add boiling water, and open the two packets of stuff. In hindsight, that did make sense, because if all she had to do was let the contents rot in the pot for 5 minutes, then wouldn’t it have been cooked in the packaging?
Smiling to herself, she set about boiling water.
#
It was a disaster. I am never cooking as long as I live again, not even for Seulgi. She stared at the abonimation in the kitchen that she had just created, and wondered whether she had a legitimate entry for the 8th deadly sin. Thank God Seulgi wasn’t here to see it.
Again, Irene learned not to doubt the universe. “Miss Irene, I’m home!” She heard Seulgi’s voice resonate throughout their dorm. Panicking, Irene looked around the room, desperate to find some place to trash the thing that she had created. It was too late.
“Is that ramyun? For me?” Seulgi piped up, eyes filled with hope and excitement. “No, wait I mean yes, but I don’t think you want to eat it, I mean, it’s my first time cooking and it didn’t turn out as well as I expected it to be, actually it turned out horrible, so I don’t think…” Irene trailed off as Seulgi skipped over and pressed a finger against . “You talk too much, Miss Irene.” She said quietly. Taking a pair of chopsticks, she pulled out a large chunk of ramyun and stuffed it into .
Irene held her breath, hoping Seulgi wouldn’t spit it out or worse, get food poisoning. (It was that bad.)
Instead, she saw tears form in Seulgi’s eyes, who quickly tried to wipe it away with the sleeve of her shirt. Irene felt like she had been shot in the heart. This has got to be a new low in cooking standards: so bad it attacks the heart and not the body.
However, before she could quiz Seulgi more about the atrocity that was her noodles, Seulgi rushed towards Irene, wrapping her arms around in a tight embrace as tears started to flow freely from her eyes.
“Seulgi? What’s wrong?” Irene whispered, hands caressing Seulgi’s hair comfortingly.
“Nothing, Miss Irene. It… It’s just nobody has ever cooked for me before.” Seulgi whimpered into the crook of Irene’s now damp shirt, face snuggling closer into her warmth.
And Irene remembered. Seulgi was an orphan. She probably never had a home cooked meal before, and had only eaten takeouts and the like all her life. Her heart softened at the thought of Seulgi eating all alone in a large dinner table, and decided nobody should ever have to go through that.
“I’ll cook for you. I can’t say everyday, but maybe once a week?” She asked, wiping the tears that had dripped from her own eyes.
“Really, Miss Irene?” Seulgi stared up at her, smiling through the tears.
“Of course. You aren’t alone anymore. You have me.” And she smiles as she feels Seulgi’s muffled ‘thank you’ against her chest, a feeling of warmth spreads throughout her body.
SO DID YOU GUYS SEE SEULGI HUGGING IRENE IN THAT MUSIC SHOW INTERVIEW AHFJDSAHFJKDSAHFDJKSAHFDJSAKFHJSAKD THIS IS THAT QUALITY CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR 100%
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