Her feet have a slight throb to them, as they usually do by the time she clocks out. Irene is standing by her work locker, deciding on leaving her work vest and nametag in there tonight or not, especially after the day she’s had. Just as she goes to shrug the red vest off, two knocks on her opened locker door catches her attention.

“Hey mama, how you doin’?

Stuck in some punk rock phase is, funnily enough, her best friend at work. A 24-year-old college dropout by the name of Seungwan Son, who is now leaning against the closed locker beside Irene’s. Honestly, the first time Irene had met her, the young woman had scared the heebie-jeebies out of her. But then again, she had caught Wendy, never call her by her real first name unless you’ve already picked out your coffin, on a bad day. With a blonde and burgundy two-toned hair, septum piercing and a glare that makes you wish you were blind to un-see it, Wendy was the type of woman you want having your back. And she’s glad she does, because she’s had men and women alike running from the store, wishing they had never picked on little Irene.

Someone who had taken a liking to Wendy from the first glance was Lily. She found her cool. From her hair, to her nose earring, Wendy had Lily gushing at how cool she is. Before Seulgi ever came into the picture as Lily’s permanent playdate, Wendy had been the person who offered looking after the little one in the breakroom when Irene’s shift ran longer than usual. The two hung out together for so long, Wendy had adopted the nickname mama for her.

Irene grabs the offered chocolate bun from Wendy, giving the bread an odd look before diverting the look to the woman now tearing bites from her own piece. “Hot cross bun? It’s February.”

Wendy shrugs with a look of utmost disinterest. “It’s Easter somewhere.”

She can’t help but let out a small laugh, because it’s definitely not Easter anywhere. There’s something about Wendy’s entire aura and being the epitome of I couldn’t care less that has always tickled her humour. Maybe Lily was right. With a nod to acknowledge her excuse, Irene tucks the chocolate delight into , continuing her task of shrugging her vest off.

“You didn’t answer me. How are you?”

“Tired.”

“You’re always tired.” Wendy waves it off. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout before. That dickhead didn’t get to you, did he?”

Irene lets her honest answer swim around , her lips twisting to let her emotions out, but she’s a pro at this now. Calming her thudding heart, she lets her hurt die on her tongue before turning to Wendy with a clean smile she has perfected. “Nah, not worth it.”

Wendy slams a hand down on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That’s my girl.”

Making sure everything’s hung right, Irene unhooks her bag and goes to close her locker before her friend cuts her off again. “Lil’ draw that?” A finger points to the new paper taped onto the inside locker door.

Irene automatically smiles at seeing Lily’s artwork. That’s the sole reason why her entire locker door was plastered with a slew of Lily’s drawings and pictures. Holding a corner of the paper, Irene halts her actions of leaving to just stand there and appreciate her daughter.

“Yeah, drew it last night.”

“That’s one big purple rat.” Wendy moves to point at the small stick figure smooshed to the side of the paper. “Is that her and,” she tilts her head to read what she could of 4-year-old’s handwriting. “Slug? Is she riding a slug?”

How incorrect but close Wendy was has Irene chuckling until her sides hurt. “Firstly, that’s not a rat. It’s a dragon. Spyro, to be exact. And secondly, no, that’s not a slug. It’s supposed to be a horse that my neighbour, Seulgi, was pretending to be.”

“Right. I can totally see it now. Wow, Picasso is shaking in his coffin.”

Irene chuckles at the comment, giving the drawing another admiration before closing her locker.

She can’t wait to get home to see what Lily has drawn for her today.

❀❀

Surprised is a feeling Irene should have become accustomed to feeling by now. But this sort of surprised is different from the rest, because opening Seulgi’s door to complete silence and darkness is something she’s not used to, or really has ever seen.

Maybe they’re asleep, Irene wonders as she steps into the quiet apartment. She catches a whiff of food that’s certainly not what she had packed for Lily. Good. Seulgi’s finally eating real food for once. Fumbling the wall for the light switch, she clicks it on. Only that no lights turn on.

Leave it to Seulgi to have something broken in her apartment. It was a long time coming, if you were to ask Irene.

She tries it again, because who knows. The second time she goes for it the living room lights turn on to a dull yellow light. Once again, Seulgi’s living room floor plan has changed. No couch, no rug, no nothing really besides a small wooden table and three seats smack dab under the glowing light. Details, such a Seulgi thing.

Small feet patter from down the hallway, catching her attention. Dressed in her Belle costume comes Lily, all smiles and something hidden behind her back. Just the sight of her has Irene smiling. Bounding to just in front of her, Lily pulls a, a pun had to have been intended, pink lily from behind her, presenting it to Irene.

“Will you be my Valentine, mummy?”

The innocent and pure question has something tugging at the back of Irene’s throat. The contrast from what had happened at work before has her eyes welling without her consent, and Irene must look away from her beaming daughter to hide her incoming tears.

“You made mummy cry, Seulgi!”

Irene is laughing at how badly this most likely planned event is going, because another echo of feet running from down the hall now joins them. Yelling her innocence, nonetheless.

“I certainly did not!”

“You said this was going to make mummy happy!”

“Maybe she’s crying from happiness!” Seulgi is bantering with her daughter like she was also 4, before quickly turning to Irene with concern knitting at her brows. “Irene, you okay?”

“No! Because you made her sad!”

“No, I didn’t!” Seulgi’s neck would snap if she turns her head down to Lily and up to Irene any faster. “Irene, why’re you crying?”

Irene’s laughing through her tears at Seulgi’s panicking. Dabbing her eyes, she bends down to hug Lily, sighing into her daughter’s tangles of hair when she feels her little arms tighten around her shoulders. “I’m not sad, baby. Just happy. Very happy.” Moving to look at her daughter, she gives her nose a peck to wash the worry away. “And yes, I’d be honoured to be your valentine.”

❀❀

“Seulgi and I made this.” Lily is on the edge of her booster seat between both Seulgi and Irene, showing off all the dishes to her.

Sat in the middle of Seulgi’s living room, Irene is treated to an odd slew of clashing dishes. On one side, there’s pancakes and scrambled eggs. And going around, she sees peanut butter sandwiches, a bowl of jelly then a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “It looks delicious, baby.” She gives a smile to Lily to show her appreciation, before turning to look at Seulgi who mouths an: I made it. Irene rolls her eyes at how childish Seulgi can be, thinking: Right. Show off. But not really what she was questioning right at this moment.

Finally catching onto Irene’s gaze, Seulgi replies, “I asked Lily what your favourite food was.” Seulgi gives all the dishes a glance before chuckling, because honestly, it looks ridiculous all set up against each other. “Apparently all of this was your favourite, and Lily couldn’t decide what you liked better.”

The thought and effort warm Irene’s heart. They eat all this a lot because it’s cheap to make, not because it’s her favourite. But if Lily says so, then they’re all her favourite now.

It’s way past Lily’s dinner time, so Irene only allows her a spoonful of every dish. Which certainly seems enough, as Lily’s tucked under a blanket, fast asleep, on Seulgi’s couch.

Now sharing a glass of wine, after much convincing on Seulgi’s part, Irene folds into herself on her chair opposite Seulgi, who’s still ripping off small chunks of the peanut butter sandwich before popping them into .

“Thanks,” her breaking the comfortable silence takes Seulgi’s attention away from the sandwich. “For all of this. I haven’t celebrated Valentine’s Day since,” Irene thinks for a bit, “since the year I conceived Lillian.” A nostalgic smile greets Irene in her wine’s reflection, and she swishes it to swirl the look away.

“You deserve it.” It’s now her turn to tear her stare away from her beverage to look at Seulgi, who’s gone from ripping off pieces to just nibbling on the corners. “Everyone deserves to feel special, especially today.”

Irene smiles at how genuine Seulgi is with her words. It must be the wine, or that Seulgi is just that good with evoking emotions out of her, must be an author thing, because Irene is tearing up for the second time today in her apartment.

“Hey, I know I asked before, but are you really okay?” Seulgi’s voice comes out soft, almost a whisper, afraid of setting Irene off even more.

Wine glass now abandoned on the table, Irene laughs away her embarrassment for crying in front of Seulgi, trying with all her might to dab away at her tears. “I’m okay. It’s nothing you did,” she tries to clear the air just in case the woman thought it was her fault. “Just something a customer did today.”

“What’d they do?”

Irene humorously laughs again. Embarrassed and now hurt. “Just some prick,” she looks up at Seulgi to see a look that she’s never seen on the woman’s face before. Anger? She’s never really seen Seulgi with such an unhappy expression. “He just said some things. I guess I let it get to me.”

“What’d he say?”

She really doesn’t want to relive it, especially say those words again. But she does, because it’s Seulgi. “He was hitting on me, saying it’s valentine’s day and everything. I tried to reject him nicely, but he said he’ll make it worth my while, you know, make it special.” When Seulgi grunts with displeasure, Irene wanted to too. “When I rejected him again, he exploded in anger, gaining everyone’s attention. Started spewing how I wasn’t so hot anyways, which isn’t why I’m upset” she shakes her hands out to further deny that reason being why. “He just said,” she sighs, “that I was going to die alone and no wonder why I’m this old working at a grocery store,” Irene rolls her eyes closed to try and stop the next wave of tears threatening to fall, “it’s because no one else wants a like me.” Irene whispers, not wanting to rehear all of this again.

“Hey,” Seulgi’s voice is so low, Irene wouldn’t have known she was even there if her hand didn’t move to hold hers. She didn’t even know when Seulgi had shifted to sit in Lily’s seat. “That prick doesn’t know what he’s saying. You just hurt his ego and pride, and he decided to grasp at straws to make his masculinity feel intact. You are none of those things he said. None of them, you hear me, Irene?” Irene nods at Seulgi’s words, and the reassuring smile Seulgi gives her makes her smile too.

“And besides,” she gives Irene’s hand a squeeze and pauses for a second. “You have Lily and me. Two valentine’s dates, that prick wishes he could even get one.” Irene laughs at Seulgi’s jab, the weight on her chest lifting already.

“You’re not alone, Irene.”

Irene squeezes the hand in her own. “I know."

a/n: happy valentine's day, kids :)