A/N: This story is a sequel/companion to this fic here : https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1023811/20/i-just-want-to-see-stars 

I would recommend reading that one first and then this one!

Once again, I would like to give a shoutout to my partner in crime, weirdlatte for listening to all my rants and guiding me through this and making sure I didn't just yeet this out of the window. She truly is the best brain cell soulmate!

 

There was a table full of cakes in front of them.

 

They were beautiful, majestic, somehow glittering under the lights, a variety of colours that boasted the professionalism of the baker that Wendy had picked out, pride written all over her face as she continued to parade her merchandise. Irene plastered a polite smile on her face, nodding to the baker’s recommendations, her hand growing cold in Wendy’s hold despite the warmth her fiancee was exuding. Her back was stiff, muscles in her shoulders arranged in such a way she hurt, phantom and unnoticeable to everyone but herself.

 

(Much like her heartache.)

 

Wendy raised her hand again, ever so polite, her smile soft and kind.

 

“Sorry, but do you have anything along the lines with coconut ash? Or bananas?”

 

Irene barely held back a flinch, the subtle tug of her hand in Wendy’s, before she forced herself to relax, making sure that her expression didn’t fall.

 

“We did show them to another couple but I thought-”

 

Wendy interjected gently, taking care not to sound confrontational, even when her grip tightened slightly.

 

“If you have them, can we try? Irene prefers those flavours.”

 

I don’t.

 

Irene swallowed tightly, tucking a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear, her chest constricting tightly. Barbs dug into her flesh, the ever present itch beneath her skin scratching away at her, prodding into wounds that never fully healed, scabs that she had opened time and again. Again, she resisted the urge to pull her hand away from Wendy, even managing to put another smile on her face when Wendy turned towards her, her face twisting with concern.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

(Wendy was still so intuned with her feelings, feeling every wave from Irene like she was a sandy beach waiting for the embrace of waves breaking against them, taking pieces away from her, small, nondescript pieces.

 

Or was it the other way around, Irene, the ever stagnant land, broken pieces of herself given away willingly to a nature’s force that was Wendy?

 

The lighthouse singing its siren’s call for a boat that would never pass its shores?)

 

She smiled, brittle and small, just wide enough to hide the broken pieces of a glass heart.

 

“I was just thinking.”

 

Wendy squeezed her hand, once, as though she was trying to anchor Irene away from her thoughts and leant in, her lips brushing past Irene’s cheek.

 

“Yeah? Were you trying to decide between coconut and banana?”

 

Irene shook her head, a jerky motion that betrayed everything and nothing.

 

(Does she even realise?)

 

“I was thinking of getting something more public friendly since we’re not the only one eating the cake.”

 

Wendy pursed her lips. There was argument in her eyes, in the lines of but there was also a reluctant agreement, a of common sense responding to Irene’s words.

 

Those aren’t the flavours I like.

 

“You don’t want to try the flavours?”

 

I have never liked those flavours.

 

“I’ll try them but I probably wouldn’t make our guests eat something they might not like.”

 

Who is it that you’re thinking of?

 

“Everyone likes bananas. Or coconut.”

 

Is it her?

 

“Not as a cake maybe?”

 

Wendy’s reply was cut off by the reappearance of the lady, her jolly smile greeting them as she brought out two plates of cakes, rich and appetising, decorated with cream, fruits, and other delicacies. She placed them down in front of them, taking care to angle the dessert forks properly before sitting back down, clapping her hands together, her motherly demeanour easing Irene away from the tension that had crept up her spine unknowingly.

 

“And these are the flavours that you requested. Have a taste! Remember, you don’t need to make a decision today, the cake is as important as the rest of the wedding, I know.”

 

She smiled expectantly at them, leaving Irene to move towards the table slightly, a shaky hand extended towards the fork. She picked it up, aware of Wendy’s gaze on the side of her face, her breath short, the grip on her hand tight.

 

(And already the cracks were forming.)

 

She cut a small piece of the cake and lifted it to her lips, pushing the fork past them and pulling the piece off with her teeth. Chewing, Irene gave the baker another smile.

 

“This is lovely as well.”

 

And she tasted nothing but bitterness.

 

*

 

Not surprisingly, they went home without making a decision.

 

Wendy continued to stare at her, a new look that she doesn’t recognise, burning into her with the force of a sun, trying her best to figure out the thoughts hidden behind screens that shuttered Irene’s eyes.

 

Irene, as she had done for their entire relationship, said nothing.

 

*

 

(She only hoped.

 

And wished.

 

SeungWan, SeungWan, SeungWan.)

 

*

 

Her eyes hurt, the words on the screen in front of her swimming and melding together before she finally gave up. She looked away from the computer, pulling off her glasses in one swift motion and massaged the bridge of her nose, trying to dispel the stress that had gathered behind her eye sockets in the disguise of a migraine. Her glasses clattered onto the desk noisily before a soft scrape drew her attention, Irene opening her eyes to see Nana putting her glasses on its back neatly.

 

“You’re going to break them.”

 

There was a warning in her voice, the same kind of warning that had laced her words for months now but her movements were gentle, even as she approached Irene. She took over easing Irene’s pain, long fingers pressing against Irene’s temple, the curve of her head, and then to the midpoint between her eyebrows. Irene leant back, her shoulders relaxing minutely.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Nana said nothing, Irene feeling her shrug before they lapsed into motions, silent and strong as their friendship had always been.

 

And just like always, faced with Nana’s stoic support, Irene’s airtight lock around her heart loosened, words tumbling in soft, sad staccatos.

 

“She doesn’t know what I prefer for cakes.”

 

Nana hummed, her voice low, aware of the lack of privacy in this open concept office.

 

“What did she think you would like?”

 

Irene swallowed down a scoff, the bitter feeling rising up yet again, strangling her, suffocating her.

 

“Coconut or banana.”

 

Nana stopped pressing for a moment before continuing, the scoff that Irene had swallowed present in her voice.

 

“On a cake?”

 

“What cake and why do you sound so disgusted?”

 

Nana’s hand pulled away quickly, just as Irene’s eyes snapped open, watching as Tiffany sauntered between the tables gracefully, gliding on impossibly high heels. Their boss gave them a smile, sweeping dark hair over her shoulders, always so cheery despite knowing that she was a demon when it came to deadlines.

 

Nana cleared .

 

“Irene was talking about how the baker gave them a banana cake and a coconut cake to try as their wedding cake.”

 

Tiffany gave Irene a look, one that spoke of exasperation and solid camaraderie of dealing with an odd spouse, before she let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

 

“No way. Are you using Looma’s as well?”

 

Irene nodded mindlessly, already connecting the dots, even as Tiffany confirmed her hypothesis as they were formed.

 

“We’re using them too! TaeYeon really liked those flavours, as weird as she is, but I persuaded her that we should go with a more public friendly cake.”

 

Tiffany lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaving Nana and Irene to lean in to hear her whispers.

 

“Just between you and me, banana in a cake is definitely a no.”

 

She grinned before pulling away, gesturing towards their computers with a wave of her hand.

 

“I suppose I’ll let you get back to your work. See you at lunch meeting though!”

 

And just as suddenly, she left them, black hair drawn over one shoulder in a practiced movement as she moved towards other employees, greeting everyone with the same bright smile.

 

Resolutely, Irene turned back towards her computer, leaving Nana’s burning stare in her midst, blazing a trail at the back of her head. She picked up her glasses and put them on, migraine returning anew.

 

Nana followed her lead and quietly went back to her table, though she never stopped glancing over at Irene, burning and burning until there was nothing left.

 

(And inside, another piece of her crumbled, chipped away by this impossibly terrible love, this heartbreak that seemed to be her entire being, strength seeping away like warmth on a cold winter’s day.

 

And inside-

 

SeungWan.)

 

*

 

It has always been SeungWan.

 

SeungWan’s smile.

 

SeungWan’s warmth.

 

SeungWan’s entire being.

 

With her, I’ll break.

 

Without her, I can’t live.

 

*

 

The reprieve from Nana’s interrogation was short, the blonde visiting the matter again during the lunch meeting, pulling her into a corner away from the crowd whilst their boss worked the crowd, Tiffany absolutely in her element while speaking to important investors. Her grip was tight around Irene’s arm, though not uncomfortable, making sure Irene stayed in place despite her very real reluctance in her body language.

 

“Irene-”

 

Irene looked away, unwilling to listen. Nana, as she had all those months ago when she first accepted Wendy’s proposal, pushed on, worry lacing every word.

 

“Irene, if she’s taking account what type of wedding cake TaeYeon wants, then she’s not imagining you at the end of that altar.”

 

Irene willed the tears not to form, in a deep breath before turning towards Nana.

 

“She proposed to me.”

 

(But she knew.

 

She knew, didn’t she?

 

Ever since that one night, when Wendy had been drunk, when Wendy looked at her, full of love and affection for someone she thought she was seeing.

 

I love you, TaeYeon unnie.

 

She knew when the ring was given to her.

 

Don’t leave me.

 

She always knew.

 

That this heartbreak was self inflicted, broken pieces of glass littering the ground and piercing through skin, drawing blood with every step down this road she had built for Wendy.)

 

Nana bit her lip, her eyes wide now, blonde strands falling in them and masking the look hidden behind gold flecked brown, as secretive as a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

 

“Irene... Sometimes people settle because they don’t want to feel lonely.”

 

(But even then-)

 

The urge to defend Wendy bubbled forth again, temporarily pulling her away from the jagged points that was her love life.

 

“Don’t say that about her.”

 

(She can’t help it.)

 

And much like every time Nana brought this topic up, she let it go with a sad sort of resignation, armour and swords placed down in a broken down Rome, a battle lost, even as the war waged on.

 

And much like every time Nana brought this topic up, Irene shut her ears to the last whisper, always the same, always feeling like salt in her wounds, digging deeper into scarred flesh with no sense of relief.

 

“You know I’m right.”

(Loving Wendy was all she knew at this point.)

 

*

 

(In another life, did she pine for Wendy just as she did now?

 

Did Wendy love another while looking at her?

 

In another life, was she ever happy?)

 

***

 

The question was stuck in .

 

It grew and festered, roots digging deep into her vocal chords, choking her with the pressure of it.

 

In her arms, eyes trained onto the television, Irene was malleable against her, comfortable and warm, a piece of home that she treasured dearly.

 

(And that was why it hurt.

 

It burned and it twisted, dark lines that drew blood within her, whispering and eating away at her conscience.)

 

Her fingers pulled gently, twirling a brown lock around pale fingertips, careful and slow, watching as they unlooped quietly, falling back into place, strand by strand. Irene shifted in her arms, her sweater riding up slightly, skin smooth against Wendy’s forearm.

 

(Burning a brand into Wendy, a reminder of what she was doing, what she could do to this woman who knew nothing but loved her completely.)

 

And just like that, the words fell from her lips, Wendy taking another strand of brown hair between her fingers again.

 

“We should move in together.”

 

There was a pause, a slow moment where Irene had to drag her attention away from the show, her fingers folding inwards and over her sweater sleeves. She took a breath, soft like how she always was around Wendy before she spoke, quiet but succinct, her head barely turned towards Wendy.

 

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

 

Her tone was curiously flat, as though she was trying her best to keep her voice even. It wasn’t as though Irene was particularly excitable (except on very specific occasions) but it was too neutral. It raised a warning flag in Wendy’s mind, leaving a path of what ifs near the guilt that consumed her daily, uncomfortable and terrifying.

 

Wendy moved, her lips pressed against Irene’s temple, searing skin upon skin, hoping to push away that horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

 

(She was partially successful.)

 

“Well...You’re already here most of the time and when you’re not, I go and pick you up for work anyways. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

 

Please.

 

There was a staccato where she felt like Irene had drifted away, to a place she can’t reach and panic started to settle in before it dispersed like smoke, wafting between her ribs and squeezing at her heart yet again. Irene nodded once before settling back into Wendy’s arms, relaxing against her. Wendy relaxed minutely, smiling against Irene’s temple before speaking again, her arms growing tighter around this person she loved.

 

“I’ll pass you the keys later, okay?”

 

Irene nodded again, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

 

“Yeah. I’ll speak to Nana about my place later this week.”

 

And just like that, they were back to their normal routine, Wendy’s hand slipping underneath Irene’s shirt, dragging her nails across pale skin.

 

Thank you.

 

*

 

(Tirelessly, unsuccessfully, Wendy tried to erase the image of TaeYeon in her mind, tried her best to replace her with the image of Irene.

 

Irene who looked at her as though she had personally set the stars that shone brightly behind the brunette’s eyes.

 

Irene who loved her.

 

Irene whom she should love.

 

But the words burned and burned and a large piece of her heart tugged in a different direction, wanting someone that she shouldn’t love.)

 

*

 

I bought a house with Tiffany last weekend!

 

***

 

The thing was, even if Nana didn’t insist on revisiting the subject time and time again, it was always on Irene’s mind. Alongside Nana’s advice that circled her mind and every waking moment, it was the suffocating feeling of being absolutely sure that her current decision was wrong.

 

And she had never associated that word with Wendy before.

 

But it was the only thing she could hear ringing in her ears as she walked out in her (would be) wedding dress, the high collar pressing into her larynx, a physical representation of her constant suffering. Her arms were itchy under the intricate flower lacing, her lungs restricted by the tight bodice. The dress fell past her knees, skimming at her ankles and the train trailed behind her, a long strip of white that was shining like something holy against the dark carpet.

 

But right now, dressed to the nines, her hair brushing past her ears, gold against pearl, she has never felt like anything less.

 

There was a spark in Wendy’s eyes, the kind she only saw on dark nights and drunk happy mornings, when Wendy was less guarded about her heart. It was a look that Irene had steeled herself again, a look of longing and lust that razed the ground around them till there was nothing but smoke, a wish of turning a daydream into reality. It was the look that had Irene dying her hair blonde, lowering her voice just enough to fake it, directing her gazes just so, just enough for her to be receiving the look.

 

(Even if it was never for her.)

 

The tailor, oblivious to everything but the sale in front of her, clapped her hands merrily, her eyes practically dripping with honey.

 

“Oh, marvelous darling! You look simply exquisite!”

 

Wendy clapped her hands in agreement whilst Irene tried to smile, her lips pulling upwards in a pale imitation.

 

(Who exactly was she looking at when she looked at Irene?)

 

The tailor continued to sing her praises, leaving Irene to stare off into the distance in discomfort, feeling more like she was being strangled in the dress while Wendy listened to the tailor intensely, her face screwed up in concentration.

 

A familiar voice filtered in the room, drawing Wendy and Irene’s attention away and towards the door, where (somehow) TaeYeon and Tiffany had entered, talking with another tailor associated with the store. Irene blinked in surprise, angling her neck to look at Wendy, who did not seem all that taken aback.

 

(Wendy was the one who insisted on this bridal store.

 

Wendy said it was the best.

 

Wendy-)

 

“Unnie!”

 

TaeYeon and Tiffany turned to look at them with identical looks of surprise on their face before breaking out into grins. TaeYeon moved forward, arms extended to give Wendy a hug, one that Wendy slid right into, her arms tight around TaeYeon’s waist.

 

(There was a vacuum around her ears, only silence surrounding her, deafening and loud and-)

 

“Irene, you’re not planning on that dress, are you?”

 

Her head snapped upwards, her gaze landing on Tiffany who was staring at her with a critical eye. Her hands twitched, suddenly self conscious, and was relieved when Wendy inserted herself into the conversation, somehow extremely defensive.

 

“I think she looks really good in that dress.”

 

Tiffany raised an eyebrow, simultaneously bored and calculating with that one gesture. She waved a hand indolently, gesturing towards the bodice with the air of someone who had this conversation before.

 

(Behind her, TaeYeon winced, shaking her head once in warning, a warning that Wendy missed but Irene caught.)

 

“Yes, it’s great. If you don’t expect Irene to eat. Or sit. Or do anything besides stand.”

 

Wendy’s brows met in the middle and she tilted her head, unable to follow Tiffany’s line of thinking.

 

“What?”

 

Tiffany’s eyebrow crept up towards her hairline.

 

“That bodice is way too tight. Irene’s barely breathing in it, let alone standing. She’s not going to be able to do anything in that dress. It’s literally just a ‘stand there and look pretty’ dress.”

 

Wendy opened to argue, closed it and then opened it again, turning towards Irene who was still looking at TaeYeon intently.

 

“Is it really too tight?”

 

Irene shrugged, feeling the grips of phantom vines wrapping around her neck, her chest, till there was nothing she felt, only suffocating on the taste of flowers on her tongue, the press of its design imprinting on her chest. Tears were clinging to the back of , coating her unsaid words and she looked to the ground, catching Wendy’s slightly heartbroken look on her face.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Irene shrugged again, noting that TaeYeon was now staring at her intently, guilt swimming across her face before it was shuttered behind a neutral expression. She clapped her hands together, bringing everything to a standstill before smiling gently, ever the peacemaker.

 

“Since we’re all here and we all have to choose a dress, why not help each other out? More opinions and all that?”

 

Irene nodded silently, in sync with Wendy’s slightly sullen pout. She moved off the viewing floor awkwardly, the dress sweeping around her ankles, turning away from a scene she would rather not witness any longer.

 

(And then in parting whispers-

 

“You were saying that the dress was beautiful and I thought-”

 

“Yeah, but like Tiffany said, you really can’t do anything in it.”

 

“I just wanted her to be beautiful.”)

 

*

 

Their world made of glass was falling apart around them, shattering into tiny, irreparable pieces, tearing away at the facade that they had both put up since their time together began. With each step they took towards a forever that only one of them wanted, cracks appeared before them, a chasm that Irene had felt long before Wendy ever noticed, a chasm that she had built a bridge over only to find out that it extended far beyond her reach.

 

Her hands were sore, the heartache that she carried was slowly killing her and each breath she took, each confrontation she swallowed was like nails down .

 

She should have never said yes.

 

She should have rejected Wendy in private, given some excuse to prevent this wedding.

 

If only to prolong the show that she had been in the whole time.

 

And now with the curtain call, with the ominous sound of a slate cracking shut, the shadows that encompassed what was the light of her life was more pronounced.

 

She should have never said yes.

 

*

 

(Sometimes, when the night was quiet and Wendy looked at her without seeing TaeYeon behind her expressions, she dreamt.

 

There was a dream she held close to her heart, a placebo to keep her walking down this path she had chosen.

 

In that dream, there was nothing but smiles and laughter.

 

In that dream, there was a family.

 

Two mothers, a daughter, friends.

 

And sometimes, when that dream ended with the morning light streaming into their room through fluttering curtains, Irene took her time to come back to reality, where her world wouldn’t be interrupted with a soft voice teasing her as she woke or the tiny sounds that came from pattering feet.

 

And for that moment, Irene would be able to tell herself that she was content.)

 

***

 

When Irene came home that day, blonde locks trailing past her shoulders, Wendy had to put the glass she was holding in her hand down immediately.

 

And even then, she took a look to see if she shattered the glass in her grip, with its sharp edges digging into the palm of her hand, numbing her, tearing at her nerves and destroying what little of self she had at the sight of Irene.

 

Irene had always been beautiful, the type of elegant beauty that had the touch of an angel’s blessing, gently carved through loving fingers, an artwork reluctantly shown to the world.

 

But the Irene in front of her right now, with sunshine spun gold framing a face that God must have cried over, a tentative smile on her face that could have started wars so that it would stay, this Irene was resplendent.

 

Wendy swallowed tightly, watching Irene as she kept her shoes away carefully, coat hung up in the side cupboard with military precision, eyes never leaving this painting in front of her.

 

And her heart throbbed with guilt, pulsing through her veins with the stark reminder that even though she can appreciate Irene’s beauty, loves the woman behind that angelic demeanour, there was still a part of her that sought after TaeYeon like a dying man in the desert.

 

She saw a flash of TaeYeon in the small movements, in the way Irene tucked her hair behind her ear, the soft tentative smile that drew the curve of her lips. It was in the way Irene had looked up from beneath her eyelashes, before it was chased away by something distinctly Irene, the appearance of a sunset after a harsh day, the sort of warmth that Wendy had come to expect and look forward to after a long day.

 

“You should pick your jaw up from the floor before you dislocate it, SeungWan.”

 

Irene’s fingers brushed past her open mouth, lingering at her lips before they trailed down to her chin and pushed upwards, gently guiding her jaw to close. She chuckled lightly, the back of her hand pressing against Wendy’s cheek lightly before she pulled away.

 

“Does it look that bad?”

 

Wendy spluttered ungracefully, grabbing Irene by the shoulders and shaking her head aggressively.

 

“No! Never!”

 

Her voice lowered, a sort of openness that she could never fathom having before meeting Irene.

 

“There will never be a point in my life that you’d ever look bad in my eyes.”

 

Irene blinked, surprise colouring a kaleidoscope behind a hearth that held nothing but love for Wendy. Then she blinked again, leaving Wendy with soft windfalls of laughter, the soft smile on her face widening.

 

“Now you’re just being cheesy.”

 

(And then breathing became easier.)

 

Wendy pulled Irene into her arms, her chin resting on her shoulder, just as her lips grazed the older woman’s ear.

 

“Not if it’s true.”

 

Her heart soared at the sound of Irene’s quiet laughter, the burden on her shoulders lifting when Irene’s fingers buried themselves into the back of her shirt, two souls anchored to each other, swaying in their living room.

 

She buried her nose into the crook of Irene’s neck, her vision filled with gold.

 

(Later, much later, this same rose gold sprawled across their pillows, a symphony in hand with the red that painted JooHyun’s skin.

 

She tried her best to erase the image of TaeYeon from her mind, choosing to take in the image in front of her, an image she always kept in her heart but could never figure out how to treasure in the midst of an ocean of unrequited love drowning her.

 

She buried herself in the scent of Irene’s skin, chasing a sound with each taste of Irene’s desire, with the pulsing through her veins as a reminder of a love she held now.

 

She was only marginally successful.)

 

*

 

(Blonde suited TaeYeon extremely well, painting an edge of ice around a beautiful canvas, giving the older woman an aura that Wendy can’t escape from.

 

TaeYeon looked extremely beautiful in blonde.)

 

***

 

It was difficult, talking to Nana about the wedding, Irene unable to form words that would shed a better light onto Wendy.

 

(And truth be told, she doesn’t know if she could.

 

Or if she wanted to.)

 

And this time, when Nana asked her seriously, her gorgeous features melding into a frown, fingers clasped around her wrist tightly, Irene didn't answer.

 

“Is there any part of the wedding that isn’t for TaeYeon?”

 

She kept shut because if she answered, there wouldn’t be any resistance, no more dreams to sustain her.

 

She didn’t answer because if she did, the answer would have been no.

 

*

 

“And then I thought we could have this song when you walk down the aisle?”

 

Wendy leant in, offering an earbud to Irene, easing the earphone into Irene’s ear gently, her sleeve grazing past the half eaten dinner on the plate in front of her. Irene’s hand shot out immediately, pushing the white material away from the plate, holding it steady even as she offered her ear, shivering when cold fingers brushed against the shell of her ear. Wendy pulled her hand back to press play on her phone, a grin on her face as she watched Irene expectantly.

 

The tune wove its way through her, wrapping its soft fingers around her mind and soothed the jagged edges of her heart with a soft whisper. It was beautiful and quiet, a love song written for someone who held the heart of the writer with gentle hands, cupped around a glass heart without any intention of shattering it.

 

It was a song she didn’t know.

 

She looked up to expectant eyes, chains wrapped around her vocal chords in a vice grip, pushing down her words and her disagreement, pushing it back into a box that had long lost its ability to stay locked.

 

There must have been something in her expression because Wendy’s face shifted subtly, worry prickling at the edges of her eyes and the younger woman lowered her eyes towards her phone, her eyebrows meeting together in the middle.

 

“No? Too soft? I have another favourite of yours if you didn’t think that one was appropriate.”

 

The soft melody soon changed to something gentle, a ballad that crooned nothing but dedication and affection. The singer’s voice resonated in her chest, an unwanted mating call that had no answer. constricted slightly and she shook her head, her hands clenched into fists on the table.

 

Wendy continued, her brow furrowing deeply even as she went through the playlist, utterly confused as to Irene’s rejection.

 

“I thought you liked this song? You were talking about it just the other day.”

 

It wasn’t me.

 

The grip around her neck loosened slightly, enough for her to take a breath and choke out a soft sound, leaving Wendy to stare at her incredulously.

 

“It’s a beautiful song. But I don’t know this song, Wendy.”

 

She was so confused, utterly and devastatingly so, even as she continued to pick out songs for Irene to choose, her face screwed up adorably as she tried to piece together the broken puzzle in front of her. It was only heartbreak and the thoughts of the tears she had cried that Irene finally put her foot down, reaching over to put a hand over Wendy’s hand, her voice soft but firm.

 

“That’s not a favourite of mine either, Wendy.”

 

There was turbulence behind brown eyes, molten gold turning into lava as Wendy tried to process the words, her fingers stilling over the screen. Then, just as suddenly as the anger came, guilt flooded her expression like waves breaking on shore, wordless apologies forming behind muted brown eyes. There wasn’t anything that Wendy had to say for Irene to understand just who she was being confused with, but even when the whisper came, Irene was still unprepared for it.

 

Wendy apologised, softly, quietly, words lost in the still silence of the room, spoken reverently like a psalm so that Irene can’t hear.

 

“Oh, it was TaeYeon unnie’s...”

 

Wendy’s face twisted once before a blank but happy expression took over, the other woman turning her hand so that she was holding onto Irene’s.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we will find something that you like.”

 

(But she always did.

 

And she ended up losing another piece of her glass heart.)

 

***

 

She had never seen that smile on Irene’s face before.

 

It was stiff, as though someone had forced her lips to turn upwards, a forcefully carved smile instead of brush that usually made up the beautiful smile that captured everyone’s attention. Her back was abnormally straight, her shoulders drawn up slightly even as TaeYeon laughed, one hand reaching out to twirl a lock of blonde hair around her fingers. TaeYeon’s grin never left her face, her hand trailing down to Irene’s bare shoulder, forming around inaudible words.

 

A spark of something bubbled at the pit of her stomach, hot and ugly. It travelled upwards towards her chest, scorching an ash path through her veins. Ash turned into piercing glass, stabbing straight into her heart when a blush painted Irene’s cheeks pink, the older woman ducking her head bashfully to something TaeYeon had said.

 

Without thinking, Wendy crossed the room, heels clicking against the marble floor loudly. Her arm stretched out, sliding across Irene’s back easily before pulling her girlfriend towards her body, angled away from TaeYeon’s teasing grin. Her voice came out light, hiding the steeping heat that trembled through her body, fingers pressing into Irene’s waist tightly.

 

"Are you teasing my girlfriend again, unnie?"

 

Irene turned towards her, their faces close enough for her nose to brush past her cheeks. There was a question in her eyes but Wendy paid it no mind, watching TaeYeon as she yet again reached over to pull on Irene’s hair playfully. She swallowed the lump in with some difficulty, schooling her expression into her usual one.

 

"I was just telling her that blonde hair looks good on her."

 

Her grip tightened and the smile on her face felt like it was plastered on wrongly.

 

(Stop.)

 

She pulled Irene closer, skin sticking on skin and her lips skimmed the older woman’s cheeks, pressing a kiss that felt too possessive.

 

"Of course she does, unnie. She's always beautiful."

 

TaeYeon laughed again and raised her hand in surrender.

 

"Okay, okay. I get it, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone."

 

She watched as TaeYeon walked back towards Tiffany and Sunny, her smile dropping to a scowl momentarily before her lips lifted up again, the expression on her face stiff and unfamiliar. The burn in her chest died down slowly, leaving behind a warmth that she had come to associated with something belonging solely to Irene. Her shoulders drooped down, her body light even as she watched TaeYeon give Tiffany a kiss.

 

Irene shifted in her arms, snapping her out of her daze. She looked up at Wendy from beneath fluttering eyelashes, secrets hidden behind molten gold, shuttered behind blinds that Wendy had never been able to open. The corner of her lips lifted again and this time, the smile came easily, her murmur low and teasing.

 

"I didn't know TaeYeon unnie and you were close."

 

Irene shrugged, running her fingers through her hair, leaving Wendy breathless at the sight, almost staggering backwards from the pure brilliance that was Irene.

 

"It was just a compliment, Wendy. Friends do that."

 

Wendy swallowed again, taking note of the feigned nonchalance present on Irene’s face, the stiff smile still plastered on visibly.

 

It was like-

 

(There were times where she was immensely grateful that Irene took everything she said at face value.)

 

She leant in, capturing the taste of Irene between her teeth, relief pulling at the edges of her guilt when Irene reacted immediately, soft touches soothing the sides of her face.

 

(Because Irene had always believed in her, believed in her love, staying by her side whilst Wendy had longed for another.

 

She will spend the rest of her life grovelling to Irene, spend it all on her knees, praying and crying, trying to right this wrong, for putting her in a competition that she had no idea she was in.)

 

*

 

(And later-

 

Much later-

 

She realised with a jolt that she had gotten jealous.

 

Of TaeYeon.)

 

*

 

Wendy stared at the gift Irene handed over to her with open, eyebrows raised to her hairline and fingers slack around the jewelry box.

 

(Was it what she thought it was?)

 

“Wh-What’s this?”

 

Irene pressed the box onto clammy palms and smiled gently, soothing and gentle. Her fingers closed around Wendy’s unresponsive ones, wrapping them around the velvet box firmly.

 

(It can’t be-)

 

“It’s a gift. To celebrate your recent success?”

 

The relief that flooded through her was palpable, obvious even, once she realised that this was not a proposal. She took a deep breath, matching Irene’s expectant smile with a soft one. Taking her time, Wendy opened the box, watching the way blue velvet gave way to red, a flash of gold catching her eye. The box flattened with a slap, presenting a delicate rose gold necklace, a star pendant sitting right in the middle of the cushion.

 

Something soft wove through her muscles, wrapping her in a phantom hug as she touched the star reverently. In front of her, Irene stammered quietly, one hand coming up to scratch the back of her neck sheepishly.

 

“It’s not much - I mean - yeah, I wanted something meaningful? And this seemed proper.”

 

Wendy’s fingers trailed along the chain slowly, shakily, before she lifted it from the box, watching as rose gold spun midair before unfurling out, the star bouncing slightly. She let out a shaky breath, her reply lost in the whispers of her reverence.

 

“A star?”

 

But Irene was always attuned with her, always knowing exactly what she said and what to say. She answered back just as reverently, her words firm despite the volume, etching the truth from her heart into silence, her love wrapping around her explanation with no hesitation.

 

“Because that’s what you are to me.”

 

Wendy felt overwhelmed, as though she had ducked underwater, with the sound of the ocean surrounding her. It was a feeling she can’t quite describe, almost like the bud of a flower, ready to blossom but it was not quite there yet. It was a feeling she had never gotten before, a heart song written especially for Irene, the words in her head solely for Irene.

 

These words, that she was unable to form, she hoped to speak through her lips, desperately, achingly, scorching this budding feeling onto the canvas of Irene’s body.

 

(Inwardly, even as she chased a sound that came with the worship of Irene’s love, she wondered.

 

She wondered if this was her salvation.

 

Her one step forward to moving on.)

 

***

 

Wendy had never thought wedding planning would be the end of her until she started planning her own wedding.

 

It should have been easy, drawing a picture around a day where Irene should be the only thing she saw walking down the aisle, her chance at a happy ending, their one day together where the world could see how much they mean to each other. A script that she had written deep in her heart, with a house that held warmth at its heart and the dreams of love and being loved.

 

(But she forgot that she had once written that script in the name of another.)

 

It should have been easy but it wasn’t.

 

TaeYeon had always confided in her, the both of them against the world, fighting tooth and nail to gain a foothold in today’s world of ever increasing man ego. She had seen the darkest side of TaeYeon and the brightest, always one step behind whilst TaeYeon moved forward, ever confident, ever fearful.

 

She had fallen in love with TaeYeon while running after her, breathless as she tried to walk in the footsteps she had left behind.

 

It should have been easy but it wasn’t because she wasn’t planning just her own wedding.

 

She was also helping TaeYeon.

 

(Like she always had.)

 

It was fine at first because TaeYeon and Irene had different tastes in almost everything. It was fine up till the point they started using the same tailor, the same bakery, the same-

 

Then it was confusing, her own wedding and TaeYeon’s melding into an almost single entity, differentiated by only Tiffany’s iron will and Irene’s quiet protests.

 

(And whilst she tried wading through murky waters, her hand never extended out towards Irene.

 

Irene who had been steadily getting more tense as the weeks went by.

 

And it wasn’t until later that she realised what Irene’s smiles meant.

 

And by then-)

 

*

 

Nana pressed a cold towel to her forehead, her fingers rubbing at the tips of her ears gently. Irene timed her breathing with Nana’s, feeling her heart slow down and soon enough, the anxiety that had turned to lead in her chest dispersed, leaving her with only the sound of Nana’s breathing in her ears. She shifted slightly, turning her cheek towards Nana’s hand and pressing her nose on her palm.

 

They sat in silence for a moment, Irene’s head cradled on Nana’s lap. Nana continued to comfort her, her fingers moving from her ears to her forehead, gently easing out frown lines with soft touches.

 

And then, she spoke, her voice low, mindful of the fragile peace they had built around them.

 

“Irene, you’re breaking apart.”

 

Irene kept her eyes closed, her cheek still cradled in Nana’s hand.

 

And then-

 

“I don’t know what else to do.”

 

And right there, in Nana’s living room, the final piece of the remains of Irene’s shattered heart crumbled into dust, leaving her empty, leaving her vacant, with the fingers of loneliness playing a sullen song on the cracked walls that surrounded her ribcage.

 

Rome finally fell in all its glory.

 

*

 

And like with every fall of an empire, it started with a single word.

 

The baker’s pen paused over the form, the tip of it pressing a black dot on white. She looked up, her eyes kind and warm and she gave them a smile, her cheeks red under the light.

 

“And which of you should I put the cake reservation under?”

 

(It was like looking at a collision heading straight for disaster.

 

Explosive, destructive-

 

Utterly unstoppable.)

 

Irene had to take a breath when Wendy answered, resolutely, definitively, without a pause or a thought.

 

“TaeYeon.”

 

Irene jerked minutely, barely trampling down the surge of emotions that rumbled in her chest, her teeth clenched tightly. The scream locked itself in , pressing against her windpipe with a force so crushing, she wondered if she could speak after this. A spark of red burst behind her eyes, blinding her momentarily and for just a second, she saw nothing but red, red, red and it was as though she had started bleeding.

 

It took a second.

 

It took about a second for Wendy to realise her mistake and start stammering, excuses leaving her lips in a strange staccato motion, but the damage was done.

 

“I mean- Ah, that wouldn’t work- Could you please use Irene?”

 

Irene had heard it, loud and clear, the dirty secret between the both of them that was never acknowledged, courageously spoken into existence in broad daylight, hanging between them, drawn into the air like sunlight pulling colour from a window.

 

(And she broke and shattered, the ache in her chest settling inside like an old friend.

 

Torn into pieces so small that she couldn’t be put together again.)

 

The lady hummed, her pen moving in slow, silent curves, the word ‘Irene’ forming neatly above the line.

 

“No problem. It makes things easier actually, that you have an English name, we have another couple where there is a TaeYeon as well, so this way, I won’t get things mixed up.”

 

She shot them another smile before going through the details of the cake they had just ordered. With each sentence, it drove the nails that were already present in the coffin of their relationship deeper home, the lid closing with a resonating thud once she confirmed everything. She gave them another smile before standing up, lowering her head into a bow.

 

“Thank you for choosing Looma’s. Please wait here while I get you a receipt.”

 

And with a swish of her skirt, she left them sitting there, unaware of the pieces of their relationship surrounding like rubble after an explosion.

 

Wendy immediately turned towards her, her face contorted with apologies that had stacked up over the years, always hidden away from sight, always just out of reach and enough for Irene to dream.

 

“JooHyun, I-”

 

The scream that was locked in earlier had died away, leaving ashes in its way, with the traces of a love that left nothing but a graveyard inside of her. Irene cut her off softly, the pieces of her glass heart crawling up like vines, lodging themselves in and cutting off any strength that she might have had left.

 

“Don’t.”

 

(Staying with her would break her.

 

But leaving would kill her.

 

But now-)

 

Irene stood up, tears drawing paths of their broken relationship down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hands, with more force that she thought she could generate at this moment and made her way towards the door. She ignored the press of Wendy’s fingers to her back and the gurgled, desperate way Wendy had called out to her, leaving behind the image of a war torn Wendy in the midst of a battlefield that had no winners.

 

“JooHyun, please-”

 

Drawing in a breath, Irene spoke again, taking care not to turn around.

 

(She can’t, she can’t, she can’t.)

 

“I need to be alone for a while. Please don’t look for me.”

 

And then she left, an empty husk that ran on aches and pains, hurting so much that she could barely feel the joints of her body.

 

(Like a doll, like a robot, broken down beyond repair.)

 

And she left SeungWan behind, feeling her eyes on the back of her head, pleading, begging, asking for her to stay.

 

(And it was nothing but SeungWan, SeungWan, SeungWan.)

 

*

 

(And by then, it was too late.

 

It was too late.

 

JooHyun had already left.

 

Left behind a blazing trail of fire, leaving behind the imprint of a sunset, beautiful, mesmerising-

 

And not hers to keep.)

 

*

 

(Now there was nothing but rubble in her wake, the destruction of a home that she had built with bleeding hands and broken arms, each layer of brick held together only by the tears that she had shed silently in the dead of night.

 

Now she walked away from someone who was like the star to her, someone who had placed the wishes of stardust in her chest, given her hope like a wishing star.

 

But she forgot that stars only shone brightly when they were about to collapse and that shooting stars vanished in a blink of an eye, leaving behind nothing but smoke and the remnants of a wish never coming true.)

 

*

 

Without a word, without even questioning what she was doing in her apartment, the key that Nana had given her back then clenched in her hand so tightly that it tore her palm open, Nana had opened her arms and swept her into a rib crushing hug.

 

With one swift motion, Nana had drawn in the shattered pieces of her and held her tight, trying her very best to meld them back together, imperfect but whole.

 

She buried her face into Nana’s shoulder, the key in her hand clattering on the floor loudly, specks of red splattered across white. The tears that she had held onto with firm resolution dripped down her face silently, leaving behind nothing but a story that had already ended.

 

And Nana, sullen, quiet, loyal, Nana held her close, whispering words that were neither comforting or consoling.

 

But it soothed her nonetheless.

 

“You’re going to be alright.”

 

Her hand pressed into the notches of her spine, holding Irene up with all her strength.

 

“You’ve done so well.”

 

*

 

Staying will break her.

 

But leaving will kill her.

 

But perhaps this stagnant purgatory she was in-

 

Leaving but leaving behind pieces of her that mattered most.

 

This was a purgatory she burned in.

 

***

 

She woke up to the sound of pots and pans in her head, throbbing pain pulsating from the middle of her forehead all the way to the back, phantom fingers pressing deep into her skull and clawing at her brain. Fighting back the urge to cough, Wendy pushed herself up into a sitting position, her elbow pressing into the warmth of her pillow and denting it. Blinking slowly, she took in the room around her, her mind barely catching up to the change of scenery.

 

I was at the club.

 

Her hand moved towards the spot beside her, her fingers finding only cold sheets.

 

And then-

 

Tensing, Wendy turned towards the empty space beside her, undisturbed and pristine, the covers pulled back slightly as though no one had gotten in.

 

JooHyun came.

 

A deep unseated feeling sparked at the base of her spine, drawing a path straight up and into the crevices of her ribcage. Her chest tightened, leaving her slightly breathless and she moved again, this time seeking out the one person that she had wanted to see.

 

She spotted Irene by the window, seated gracefully on the wide ledge, legs pulled up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, a blanket draped her shoulders precariously, the dark material glowing softly under the moonlight. Her face was angled away from Wendy, catching the drops of stardust from the night sky on pristine skin, her side profile bathed in a beauty Wendy only knew from Irene.

 

Her eyes were glazed over, looking out the window but barely seeing anything, a slight frown creasing her brow. It was a look that was familiar yet unfamiliar, as though it was a memory that she had but lost clarity of. It was a look that had Wendy slipping from warmth and into the cold of the room, wanting nothing more than to wipe away that expression.

 

(Irene looked like she was preparing for war.

 

And it was a war she couldn’t win.)

 

She called out softly, watching as Irene pulled herself together and then turned towards her, her eyes shuttered.

 

“Irene...?”

 

And like always, Irene heeded her call, her legs unfolding in a graceful motion before she made her way back towards Wendy. She slipped into Wendy’s outstretched arms, slotting their bodies in a familiar dance, two pieces of a puzzle coming together. Her cold fingers brushed past Wendy’s exposed thighs, drawing a shiver from her.

 

“Cold...”

 

Irene rubbed Wendy’s arms comfortingly.

 

“Sorry, sorry. I was going to get some water and got distracted by a bird outside the window.”

 

There was a warning at the back of her head, buried under the throbbing of the hangover she nursed. It was complicated, too muted to decipher properly and thus, Wendy chose to ignore it, to examine it on another day, a better day.

 

She whined petulantly, burying herself further into Irene, chasing away the cold with her own body heat.

 

“And my head hurts.”

 

Irene chided softly.

 

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