Irene doesn't remember exactly when it started.

She wouldn't call it love at first sight; she was much too cynical for that. She still clearly remembers the day she met Wendy. It was a Wednesday, the weather was terrible and gloomy, and an intern mistakenly brought Irene coffee instead of her usual juice. Needless to say, she was in a bit of a mood. Irene was grumbling to herself at her desk when a flash of dark purple appeared at the corner of her vision. She looked up, and saw her. When the short bubbly girl with the bright eyes and wide smile was introduced to the office, Irene unfortunately couldn't say her day suddenly took a turn for the better.  A simple bow to one another, a quick handshake and rushed introductions were made, and the girls moved on with their lives.

Then maybe it was the week after.

The intern brought Irene coffee (again), but this time Irene was secretly grateful for it. It had been a long week, and she still had extra work she had to finish. So as the rest of her coworkers slowly trickled out of their office, lights turning off in cubicles and computers whirring as they shut down, Irene spent her Friday night working overtime and drinking her 3rd cup of coffee. She reached for the cup, bringing it to and expecting the bitter liquid to assault her tastebuds. She scrunched her nose and knotted her eyebrows together in anticipation of the abomination of a liquid other people claim they live on. But when she tilts the cup and all she can taste is air, Irene frowns. Empty. She didn't even realize she had finished it. Sighing, she gets up from her desk and drags her feet over to the floor's vending machine, which illuminates the dark office. Irene looks like a moth being drawn in to a flame, her mindless walking looking almost zombie like. She pulls her wallet out, ready to buy the canned iced coffee displayed on the machine.

"Isn't that like, your 4th coffee today?" 

For Irene to say her soul left her body would be an understatement.

She yelps in surprise, jumping and shaking her arms in the direction of the unnamed voice. 

"Whoa, oh my gosh, I didn't know you scared so easily, I'm so sorry!" It's Wendy. She looks worried for a second, but the worry is quickly replaced by amusement. She waves her hands in front of her protectively while giggling. "Or maybe the coffee has made you more jumpy than usual? I thought you were gonna karate chop me for a second!"

Irene tries to frown, but to Wendy, it looks more like a pout. "What are you doing here so late, Miss Son?"

"I suppose for the same reason you're here, Miss Bae," Wendy hums. "This week has been so crazy busy." 

The way Wendy enunciates Irene's name is playful, and it makes Irene second guess how she addressed the younger woman. Should she have just called her Wendy? They weren't that close. Heck, they haven't had a conversation at all.

Should I buy her a coffee too? Irene thinks. It would be a nice, friendly gesture. Like a welcome to the office! thing. It's been so hectic since she arrived that I haven't really been able to talk to her...

Before Irene can make up her mind, Wendy is moving to the next vending machine with money in her hand and is already punching in numbers. Two small plastic bottles drop, and Wendy bends down to pick them up.

"Here, my treat."

Irene looks down at the girl's outstretched hand and sees a bottle of yogurt with a small straw attached to the side.

"But-"

"I know, you need to finish work, blah blah. But I know for a fact you've already had way too much coffee today, even though you hate coffee," Irene gapes at this, and Wendy waves it off. "Please, Miss Bae, you're so obvious. Whenever you drink coffee your face contorts so much people might think you're in pain. Sometimes, you just need a little sweet treat to help you finish things off with a good mood." Wendy takes Irene's hands and wraps them around the yogurt drink, giving her a quick pat as she lets go. 

"I'm going to leave now Miss, but I hope you don't stay here for much longer okay?" Wendy bows, and starts walking away. "Oh and please get home safely! I'll see you on Monday!" She calls over her shoulder.

Irene just watches the woman's figure as she walks away and eventually disappears around a corner. She looks down at the yogurt in her hand, dumbfounded by what just happened. She hesitantly pokes the straw into the drink and sits back at her desk, completing the finishing touches to her work. When she's done with the document and her drink, she walks out of the office and back to her car.

Irene plays her music a bit louder on the drive home that night, trying to drown out the loud beating noise in her chest. 

-

Irene does see Wendy the next Monday. And the next. And the next. 

Each week it becomes harder and harder for the pale woman to conceal the obvious crush she had developed on her younger female coworker.

In the weeks following their late night interaction, Wendy had only become clingier and more cheesy around Irene. The rest of the office took it upon themselves to call the two "work wives"; everyone noticing how attentive they were to each other and how well they got along.

The nickname makes Irene's ears turn an embarrassing shade of pink. But of course, Wendy, oblivious as ever, playfully uses the term as often as she can without crossing a certain line.

A certain line that shouldn't be crossed, because Wendy has a girlfriend.

The discovery made Irene's heart sink to her stomach. And when she saw Wendy's girlfriend, Joy, for the first time, Irene felt like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Wendy's girlfriend looked like an absolute model.

She had sweet yet intimidating features, paired with a body and personality that roared confidence. 

Irene felt like a pathetic bunny rabbit in comparison.

So she tried to extinguish her crush. Tried talking less to Wendy, tried finding things about her that maybe wasn't her favorite. 

But the more Irene pulled away, the more Wendy pushed forward. 

The girl could not take a hint.

So Irene gave in, and decided to let Wendy unknowingly and slowly break her heart.

Everytime the two got closer made Irene want to pull her heart farther and farther away. 

Wendy would tell Irene everything, unsolicited. And everything included all of her dates with Joy, all the gifts she got from Joy, all the fights she had with Joy, all of it. Irene would feel genuine empathy for Wendy, feeling happy when a date went well, and feeling sad when the two fought.

Sometimes, when Wendy would tell Irene about her and Joy's fights, a flicker of hope would ignite in Irene's chest, but her guilt immediately doused the flame threatening to spread.

And so Irene lived like this for a while, in a state of dampened emotion and false hope. 

As long as I can stay close to Wendy.

-

Sometimes, Irene wakes up in the middle of night, eyes blown open from her nightmares. The night terrors take the form of her past experiences, contorting and evolving to be as terrifying as they can possibly be, combining sour memories with her current troubles. She's grown used to them, much like one eventually adapts to the smell of lingering smoke. But lately, her dreams have been filled with kind eyes, a full melodic voice, and that same flash of dark purple hair. Irene sometimes dreams of the girl in different scenarios; sometimes they're on a date, sometimes in a situation that makes Irene's palms sweat and toes curl. She doesn't know how to deal with this.

One time, Irene dreamt up a version of Wendy with chestnut brown hair, blue highlights dancing on the tips of it. She thinks the color matches her well.

She tries to close her eyes and go back to sleep, but all she sees dancing beneath her eyelids is blue, blue, blue.

-

When Wendy hadn't gone to work for 3 days in a row, Irene finally voiced her concern. After the first day with no Wendy, she was already disappointed, but didn't want her disappointment to be obvious. No one should know about her silly crush. She even practiced in her mind how she would react if someone asked about her work friend.

'Wendy's gone today? Wendy who? Oh, Wendy Son. I really have no idea.'

(There was only one Wendy in the office, and that idea was completely stupid.)

On the second day with no Wendy, Irene considered texting the woman. They had initially exchanged numbers for work purposes, but recently their text conversations have mainly consisted of Wendy sending Irene internet memes and Irene pretending to hate it. Although the two got along fairly well at work, Irene would barely call their texts genuine conversations. So she felt like contacting Wendy would be out of bounds. Plus, she shouldn't seem to care so much. No one can know, after all.

That evening, Irene sends Wendy a text anyway. Are you feeling okay?

No reply.

On the third day, Wendy's absence in the office becomes almost suffocating. No one mentions it, although Irene is completely certain everyone notices the lack of bright energy that the younger woman brought to the work environment. It was impossible to not notice her absence. During her breaktime, Irene finally gives in, and asks Eric about Wendy's whereabouts. She knows the two are close.

"Oh, Irene," his face sinks. "I thought you knew?" His voice drops to a whisper. "Wendy's girlfriend passed away. Wendy is on unpaid leave right now."

That night, Irene cries herself to sleep, though she's not quite sure who or what the tears are for.

-

The next two weeks pass without much fanfare. The somber mood around the workplace slowly lifts, Wendy's absence no longer taking a toll on the office's energy. After a while, you could almost say that Wendy never even worked there in the first place.

Almost.

Her desk still stood, in all its glory, filled with little knick knacks that made Wendy smile and post it notes the enthusiastic girl would write to herself. The cubicle almost looked like a shrine; it was as if Wendy was the one who passed away instead, and her desk was the ultimate combination of all things "her". The dust starting to collect on her belongings made the desk look even more like a memorial.

Sometimes, Irene purposefully walks by the empty desk a little slower, though she would never admit to the longing look she would often cast at Wendy's empty office chair. Sometimes, when Irene walks past, she steals a glance at all the pictures her younger coworker had up, and her stomach drops when she sees the one with Wendy and her late girlfriend, smiling and looking happier than any couple Irene's ever known. 

When she heard the news of Joy passing away, Irene's gut reaction was to think of how Wendy was feeling. That seemed normal enough, as she feels she had been fairly close to Wendy (in terms of coworker relationships), and had barely even talked to Joy on the few occasions they had briefly seen each other at work events. She doubts the younger woman even remembered her. 

But immediately after worrying about Wendy, Joy's death itself hit Irene in the gut. The woman oozed a fiery energy, yet managed to retain a playful and soft side that would come out when Wendy would tell a bad joke, or simply look her purposefully in the eyes. Irene didn't want to notice these things, but she just couldn't help it. Being shy means listening and observing a lot more than the average person. For example, Irene knew Joy was very talented. She had heard from Wendy about all the gigs Joy was starting to book, and how her career was beginning to take off. The fact that such a strong, compassionate, and breathtaking woman like Joy was taken from the world so young makes Irene want to scream. 

It doesn't make sense.

-

Wendy comes back to work eventually, and Irene's heart hurts.

She's not the same. Physically, Wendy looks more gaunt, cheeks more hollow, and eyes almost sunken in from what Irene can only guess is fatigue. The younger girl's previously violet dyed hair is now a dark brown, and while Irene thinks she still looks as beautiful as the first time they met, it's the way Wendy carries herself that concerns Irene most. Wendy, who used to glide around the office and smile at everyone she encountered, now drags her feet around, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. When Irene finally gathered up her courage and chriped an awkward "Hello" at Wendy, the other girl barely managed to mutter a curt "Hi" back before pushing past her and heading to the copy machine. Irene stood there for a good 30 seconds, in shock at the slightly rude encounter. Seulgi, another coworker, approaches Irene from behind, patting her on the shoulder. "Don't worry about that, Irene. Wendy has just been a bit more sensitive lately, and honestly," Seulgi sighs deeply. "You can't blame her. Eric says this is how she's always dealt with stuff. I think it's best to leave her be for now." Seulgi gives Irene's arm a final reassuring squeeze, and walks away.

Irene doesn't want to leave Wendy alone. Because she knows from personal experience, that no matter how much you want to be left alone, as soon as someone approaches you in the right way, with kind words and gentle touches, you'll be able to open up and truly heal. 

But Irene leaves Wendy alone, because Irene is Irene, and she isn't even healed enough herself to be healing someone else.

-

It's a bad idea, and Irene knows it, but she's too drunk on bad alcohol and cheesy karaoke songs to care. 

She's at a small party being thrown by her younger friend, Yeri, who recently got hired at the same workplace Irene slaves away at. Yeri credits Irene with "putting a good word in" for her, but Irene knows the only reason Yeri got in was because the girl was so promisingly competent at such a young age. Irene doubts her stuttered compliments about Yeri to her boss did much good in the whole process. 

Yeri just made an embarrassing toast to Irene, who kept drunkenly sputtering "thats not the point of the party! Im not the staaar" to the amusement of the other guests. Irene stumbled outside to get some fresh air, where she finds herself staring at a particular contact in her phone. 

Wendy Son, the phone glares back at her. Irene's finger hovers over the call button. She's still contemplating calling when suddenly she hears a hoarse, sleep-ridden voice come out of the phone. 

"Irene? Is something up?"

Irene jumps in surprise, then giggles incredulously. 

"Woops, I guess my hand slipped, pfft haha. I've been wanting to call you, you know, Wendyyy..."

Irene's voice trails off, expecting a response from the other end. But none comes, so she keeps talking.

"I was deciding to call because I know we're not suuuuuper close, but I still wanted to talk to you, heh. I feel like we haven't talked in a while, and i like talking to you. Like a lot," Irene smiles goofily. "But I don't think you like me? I dunno. My hand kinda moved on its own i guess, haha."

More silence. Irene is about to start blabbering again, but a hushed voice finally comes out of the phone.

"I'm sorry we haven't been able to talk." A shaky sigh. "I-I guess - well, I know I've been really out of it lately. Thats my fault."

"Noooo, no no, shhh. That's not something to apologize about. I just missed you." Irene pauses, sobriety seeming to suddenly kick in. "The, uh, the whole office misses you."

"Yeah, Eric's been saying the same thing..." The call crackles with static. Wendy continues in a softer, but more steady voice. "Irene, it sounds like you might be a little drunk right now. Is there anyone with you looking after you?"

The question catches Irene by surprise, and she nods vigorously. "Yes! Yes, I'm at a friend's house. Very safe. No need to worry." 

The way Irene speaks is so business-like and matter-of-fact in contrast to her childish slurring earlier, and it makes Wendy laugh on the other end of the call. 

Irene gasps at the noise. She didn't realize how much she missed it. 

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Get some sleep later and drink plenty of water, okay?"

Irene can't help the goofy smile creeping on to her face. 

"Yes! Ahem. Yes, I will. Thank you, Wendy."

"You're welcome, Ms. Bae. I'll see you soon." Irene can practically hear the smile in the other woman's voice. 

Irene is about to bid her goodbye as well, when she remembers something. 

"Wait!"

"Oh. Yes?" Wendy asks patiently.

"Merry Christmas, Wendy."

A pause. 

"Merry Christmas to you too, Irene."

-

Soon, the holidays pass, and everyone is back at work. Irene has been seeing a therapist about her nightmares, and she starts to feel more like her old self by the day. Even her coworkers comment on how she's a little less stiff, and her laughs have grown more carefree. 

This change in attitude has only welcomed more and more confessions of love from people in their department and in neighboring departments.

It's been happening for a while, and while Irene will admit that she was flattered at first and enjoyed the sweet gifts she would get from suitors, after a while it became more embarassing than anything. It could be disruptive and pretty distracting at times, especially when the worse of the admirers would loiter by her desk uninvited, repeatedly trying to chat her up when all she wanted to do was finish her work. 

She's glad for people like Seulgi and Eric who come by and shoo her suitors away, sensing when Irene would get uncomfortable and/or irritated. 

They jokingly call her the "heartbreaker" of the office, bearing witness to dozens of men and women being rejected outright by the straightforward woman.

Irene doesn't like having a reputation, and she certainly doesn't like all eyes being on her. 

Especially not when her eyes have been set on one person for months. 

After the Christmas and New Year's holidays, Wendy came back to work more energized, and certainly the most productive Irene has ever seen her. She worked longer hours now, sometimes staying back even longer than Irene. On those nights, Irene would simply pass her desk and place a coffee in front of Wendy, the two sharing a knowing look before Irene made her way out. 

Wendy had changed. She became more determined, more decisive, more efficient. She would walk around the office like she owned it, but still respecting others to the fullest and not trampling over anyone's egos. 

So Wendy didn't always act like the new hire Irene had fallen for that late night by the vending machines. But that didn't matter, because Irene liked her either way.

Sometimes, she still gets sparks of hope that maybe Wendy could like her the same way back.

One day, an especially persistent admirer of Irene's sidles up to her, leaning on the desk like he owned it. 

"Hey, Irene. How are you today?"

She puts on her best, most polite smile.

"I'm alright." The man raises his eyebrows, like he's expecting something. Oh, Irene thinks. "And how are you?"

"I'm doing amazing, actually," He laughs boisterously, no doubt an attempt to appear charming, but the laugh is forced and loud, which makes Irene scrunch her nose in annoyance. He continues talking, bragging about a concert which he managed to get tickets for because he "knows a guy."

Irene nods politely at him, and makes a noise at the back of throat, like she's acknowleding it as an achievement. She's been staring past the man (trying to non-verbally hint that she was not invested in this conversation) and noticed Wendy walking past, but slowing down her pace until she's at a complete stop near Irene's desk. She doesn't really look back in Irene's direction, instead just filing through the papers in her hand, as if she'd forgotten something. 

"Yeah, I know. I got lucky." He scoffs. A mischevious glint appears in his eyes, and his voice takes on a more greasy tone. "And, I was hoping to get lucky again tonight. When you go to the concert with me."

Irene's eyes shoot back to the man, devoid of the misplaced kindness from earlier. "I'm sorry, but I won't be going with you. Maybe take your friend instead."

She looks back at Wendy, who has stopped shuffling through the papers, and is now just standing still with a frown on her face. 

"Ah, well the whole reason I got the tickets was to take you. You wouldn't let me go alone, would you?"

"I think attending concerts alone is perfectly fine."

The man falters, but finds a reply. 

"I guess it's fine, but not ideal. You on the other hand," He looks her up and down dramatically, and Irene shivers from his gaze. "are ideal."

"I'd like you to leave me alone, please."

By this time, Seulgi or Eric would have interrupted with a diplomatic "Alright, get back to work buddy" or "Irene, can you come look at this real quick?". But the two were currently in a meeting, as were many of her surrounding coworkers. 

"Just give it a chance, and come with me tonight. You won't regret it, I promise."

He steps towards Irene, and before she can come up with a scathing reply or a kick to his shins, Wendy is between them, one hand on Irene's arm and the other gripping the papers she was just shuffling through so tightly that they crumple. 

"She was very clear on not wanting to go. Or talk to you right now." Wendy shoves the papers at the man's chest. "Now, go make copies of this Mr. Park, before I have a conversation with HR about workplace harrasment." 

He sputters a bit, but takes the papers anyways, whining as he stomps away. 

Wendy's hand is still on Irene's arm. 

Wendy turns to face the older woman, pressing her temples like she has a migraine. 

"You're way too nice to those idiots," the younger girl groans.

Wendy's hand is still on Irene's arm. 

"I'm still talking to Human Resources about that little creep. I don't care if he's a new hire."

Wendy's hand is, alas, still on Irene's arm, but is now repeating an up and down rubbing motion.

"Are you okay?"

Irene knows it's meant to be comforting, but all it's doing is making her brain short circuit.

"Ah-I-you...um."

The concern in Wendy's eyes triples, and Irene feels a little sorry that she's making the other girl worry this much when her stuttering is really just the product of her

hopeless admiration towards the other girl.

". Here, sit down." Wendy guides Irene to her chair. Irene doesn't think she's ever heard her coworker curse before, and it makes her skin tingle. "I'm talking to HR right now, okay? He's going to get what's coming to him-"

"Wait,"

Wendy's tirade is stopped by a gentle voice.

"Just stay here with me for now. We can tell stories and catch up and-" Irene sounds unsure, and it breaks Wendy's heart. "and just. Talk. Please?"

Wendy smiles warmly, patting Irene's hand.

"Of course. Let's talk."

-

Irene is very proud of herself for asking Wendy to spend time together outside of work as casually as she did. The other woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she pointed to herself as if confirming that Irene was talking to her. The mousy girl even went so far as to ask if the purpose of their meeting would be for work.

"No, to hang out, silly." Irene blurts out. She regrets the words and the giggle immediately after they leave , aware of much she sounds like a schoolgirl with a silly crush. It doesn't seem like Wendy catches on though, because she just enthusiastically nods in assent. After Wendy walks away, Seulgi shoots Irene a silent thumbs up, mouthing an exaggerated "Good job, scaredy-cat!"

Apparently, almost the entire office had caught on to Irene's liking of Wendy except for the said girl herself. 

So when the day of their date outing finally rolled around, Irene figured she had nothing to lose. 

They bonded for hours over that cafe table, each telling stories that they thought they would never be comfortable enough to tell anyone. But somehow, there was this air of trust and safety that settled around the two girls, allowing both of them to release all the stress and tension they had been feeling from carrying these little traumas alone. 

Once they relocated to the riverside, Irene was almost sure Wendy felt at least a little affection (and maybe even attraction) towards Irene. She would notice the younger woman staring at her lips when she smiled, and holding her gaze for a little longer than friends would. The realization that Wendy might like her even a fraction of the way that Irene liked Wendy was a lot to process, and she mainly got through the rest of the day by just laughing at everything Wendy said. The picture together was not planned, and Irene was genuinely just excited to see the sunset from the river. She raised her phone and took a picture, examining the photo. She already knows it'll be a photo she'll cherish for a while. Irene asks for another one, just to be sure she can remember this moment better. She raises the phone, and can't help but see Wendy's face smiling back at her on the screen. Irene turns to look at her, and thinks that if she could, she would lean forward, just a little, just enough to capture the other girl's lips in her own, in a way that would say everything she couldn't say out loud. To express all the complicated feelings she's been holding in for so long. It would be so simple to do it. 

So she does. 

It's simple, and nice, and everything she's ever wanted, but only for a few moments. Because after those seconds pass, it becomes unbelievably complicated all over again. 

Wendy pulls back, looking shocked and a little afraid. Every inch she draws further away breaks Irene's heart a little more, the pieces ricocheting across her chest and landing at the pit of her stomach. Irene apologizes, the words spilling out of . She runs away, replaying the terrible moment in her head. 

So, so stupid.

-

The next few days at the office are some of the longest Irene's ever had, and not just because she's been working overtime.

She spends extra effort to not bother Wendy, limiting any kind of interaction to mumbled requests for progress reports or anything else of that nature. Irene can tell Wendy keeps trying to pull her aside, and she just knows for a fact that Wendy is attempting to apologize. Irene can practically see the apology forming in the chestnut haired girl's puppy dog eyes whenever they make eye contact. But Irene doesn't want to hear it. An apology would mean that Wendy did something wrong, which she absolutely didn't. If anything, Irene should be the one apologizing profusely. She technically already did, right after it happened, but Irene would rather allow the past to be the past, and for the both of them to move on. My therapist would be so proud, Irene thinks bitterly in her head. She buries herself in work, convinced that a constant throbbing in her head hurt much less than the steady fluttering threatening her heart. 

It's much too late, and Irene is certain she's alone on the office floor. It's a Friday night, and even the janitors don't like staying back too long on Fridays. People have families and friends to go back to, they wouldn't be wasting away in a cold steel building. 

It actually was really cold.

Irene thinks the heat turned off hours ago, around the same time the main lights all shut off instantaneously. The light that remains comes from her office desk lamp, the glow of the various office machines still , and the emergency lights that stay on 24/7. She actually likes the somberness of the office like this. It helps her focus a bit better. She's focused so well, that she doesn't notice the patter of footsteps approaching her, stopping to the side of her desk.

A pack of yogurt drink is plopped onto her desk, and Irene thinks she sees the afterlife for a second.

"You," she seethes. "have to stop surprisng me like that."

Wendy is standing above her, blanket draped over her shoulders. Irene looks her up and down and sees that she's dressed more casually, in what looks like an outfit that could be for sleep. Irene's eyes dip further to Wendy's feet, which are being protected by hedgehog slippers.

"Were you just sleeping?"

"Ah, yeah," Wendy says sheepishly. "I actually had already went home for the day, but I kept worrying about you. You've been working a lot of extra hours so I was hoping that you would give yourself a break today. I just-I had to check." She points her head at the papers strewn across Irene's desk. "And it's a good thing I did. You're overworking yourself, Irene. Just go home and get some rest. I can drive you if you want."

"I drove myself today."

"I know, but I can take you back to get your car tomorrow. Or I can even drive you in your car so you don't have to worry. Maybe you can even get some sleep on the way to your house."

"I need to finish this as soon as possible."

"It can wait till Monday, Irene. I should know, we're working together on that file."

"I can finish it myself. You don't need to worry."

"That's not what I meant."

"I think I know what you mean."

"How could you? With you avoiding me for the past week?"

Irene feels like she struck out. She sighs deeply.

"I'm not avoiding you. I just didn't want to have this conversation."

Wendy scoffs. "Same thing."

"I really don't think so." Irene's voice is higher pitched, and she knows she does this when she's upset but she also doesn't know how to stop it. "Because I think we can pretend it never happened so that we can both move on with our lives."

"Pretending something didn't happen is not moving on." There's both a conviction and pain behind Wendy's words that makes Irene hesitate to argue. She gets flashes of memories from December. 

I thought you knew? Wendy's girlfriend passed away.

Irene stays silent. 

"Moving on would be acknowledging something happened, and knowing it can't hurt you in the same way anymore," Wendy clenches her fists. "Moving on is letting something reside in your mind and your heart, even if it's not controlling those things anymore. Moving on is being okay with where something left off." She moves closer to Irene, almost looking straight down at her. "I know I haven't moved on, because I'm not quite done with you yet."

The words strike something in Irene that spur her to stand up, and meet Wendy's eyes as best as she can from this close proximity. 

"And what does that mean." Irene challenges. 

Velvet lips meet hers, and Irene thinks that Wendy will never stop surprising her.

When they separate, they're both breathing deeply, and Irene smirks against her. 

"Took you long enough."

Wendy frowns in mock annoyance. "Me? You're the one who's had a wild crush on me since I first walked into this office."

Irene burns red. "Was I that obvious?" She asks, horrified.

"Well, apparently. I actually needed a couple of hints from Seulgi and Yeri to catch on. Lucky for you, I'm as dense as you are hopeless." Wendy chuckles. "A match made in heaven."

The two giggle, and Wendy wraps the blanket from her shoulders around Irene instead. The older woman then eyes the yogurt drinks, reaching for one and opening it graciously. 

"I'm so glad you bought these. I was starting to get tired of drinking coffee every night this week."

She takes a generous gulp, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. Wendy can only laugh at how cute she is. 

"That's so much better." Irene looks at the half finished coffee on her table, knitting her eyebrows together. "I hate coffee."

Wendy takes a good look at the businesswoman in front of her, who's holding a small yogurt drink with both hands, and is authentically glaring at an inanimate cup of coffee with deep malice. Something new blooms in her heart, something warm that starts beating throughout her whole body. Wendy thinks she could grow used to the feeling.

"I know."

=

soooo i got a little carried away
I know there isn't much context to the irene/wendy relationship in the first part, and that is the reason i wanted to do an epilogue, to provide some context. but this ended up being way longer than i expected so oops

it also starts out more serious but then gets kind of cheesy and campy in later scenes but oh well! i still hope you enjoy it for what it is haha