As soon as they enter the room, Rosé fidgets. She leans back against her desk, as Wendy scans the room she hasn't been to in years.

There are major changes in the room. Wendy looks at Rosé and is impressed at the makeshift office right behind her. Now working from home, Rosé has to make her room conducive for work. Drawers and cabinets are carefully arranged near her desk to maximize her productivity.

Wendy particularly smiles at the post its on her wall – pink of different shades adorned with scribbles, notes and endless to-do lists. Rosé can’t help but feel exposed even though Wendy’s smug look indicates she is not surprised to see them.

On the other side of the home office is a previously blank white wall but now covered in prints of various things. Wendy turns her attention there and walks closer. Rosé follows but stops to sit instead on her bed at the side of the room.

She can’t help but feel more nervous as Wendy takes her time looking at each detail. Rosé didn’t consider this when she made it. The wall was somewhat her journal – her thoughts, dreams, and inspirations.

She was proud when she made them, not so now that someone else is looking.

There are postcards of animals, sceneries, and artwork. A few of them were bought from countries she’s been to, but most of them are prints she found in tiny bookstores and craft shops. She feels like she found each one at the right time, evoking a certain emotion and comfort she needed in that moment. One is quoted from a movie, can’t you stay?, and it’s vivid and it makes her heart ache as the thought resonates.

Rosé also found comfort in painting – a new hobby she discovered two years ago. Some of it adorns her wall now and parts of the ensemble are watercolor songbirds. Of course, it’s easy to say that’s herself. Singing has been Rosé passion since she was a young kid. Right above where Wendy is standing is a pretty blue wren. Rosé hopes she doesn’t ask, but it’s obvious who inspired her to make that.

Aside from birds, paintings of pink roses are scattered around. Different hues, different shape, different style.

“Which one is your favorite?”

Wendy asks as she points at the baby pink and Rosé can’t help but smile.

“The one in front of you.”

At the time she made that, she had an actual rose in front of her – a single stem in an empty glass bottle. That particular moment was bittersweet at best and the intentions may not be as romantic. But still, it’s from Wendy, and it was enough reason.

Flowers bloom and wither… like feelings do. Despite that, Rosé makes sure to keep it to memory.

Her sudden sentimental thoughts are disrupted when Wendy laughs, looking at one of the photos. It’s of Rosé, wide eyed, mouth open as her pet fish snuggles against her hand for the first time. She can’t help the giggle that escapes her lips, too.

Most of the pictures have her family and best friends on them. Towards the middle is a Christmas photo in Australia. Below it is her trip to Thailand with Jisoo, Jennie, and Lisa. Most photos were taken at random – at her favorite restaurant, by the beach, and against the night sky.

She waits as Wendy moves nearer towards their photo together, a few inches beside her bed’s headboard.

The photo is quite small enough in comparison to the rest of the pictures but it holds just as much weight. In the photo, Wendy and Rosé are looking at each other, engrossed in a conversation deep enough to ignore the sunset in front of them. They had just finished racing to swing the highest, now feet placed firmly on the ground. Joy had given her the photo of a few days after, when Rosé told her about her growing feelings for Wendy.

Rosé releases a sigh when Wendy finally takes notice. Her heart beats loudly in anticipation. Isn’t it weird? Displaying a photo the other didn’t know was taken?

“I remember this moment well.”

Wendy’s voice was soft. Her smile stays on her lips as she turns to face her. Rosé didn’t hesitate to take an outstretched hand and despite the initial awkwardness, she now feels content and warm.

They stare at each other for what felt like forever. Years passed by and nothing ever changed the way Rosé feels about Wendy.

Wendy takes a step closer and Rosé still stays seated on her bed.

“I missed you a lot.”

Rosé closes her eyes to relish in the moment of Wendy’s honesty before tugging on her hand to move closer.

With each second, the distance between them diminishes until Wendy’s bending to kiss her.

Rosé swears it felt exactly like the first time as if the empty years didn’t happen at all. She wraps her arms around Wendy’s neck, pulling her in closer if it was possible.

More kisses and they end up lying sideways on the bed, facing each other again after all this time.

“I still love you.”

Wendy confesses first and Rosé nods. She didn’t have to say it because Wendy can already see it in her eyes. Instead, she reaches to comb the hair away from Wendy’s face, feeling content that she’s here right now.

“Thank you for coming back.”

Rosé falls asleep snuggly in her lover’s arms that day. In the years to follow, more postcards and paintings are taped against the wall. But her new favorite is the one in the middle – two women in white with the biggest smiles, holding hands as they celebrate with a dance on a beach at sunset.