Seulgi was confused. She was scared.

Irene smiled at her from across the table, and Seulgi saw flashes of the emotionless girl choking herself in her dreams. She closed her eyes.

“Seulgi? Are you okay?”

She heard Irene’s concerned voice and soft, small hands touching her fisted ones. If she closed her eyes like this, she could pretend like she didn’t constantly feel the disconnect between the angelic Irene in front of her and the Bae Joohyun who ruined her family.

“Seul?”

Seulgi snapped her eyes open at the nickname to see a blushing Irene, who peered at her from behind big, round glasses. She was barefaced and had her hair in a messy bun, painting a picture of carefree beauty that embedded itself into Seulgi’s confusion and shook all the emotions she felt for Irene around. The older girl was beautiful, she had to admit, whether it was five years ago or in the few seconds that passed right now. Her eyes were incredibly expressive, which often made Seulgi stare longer than was appropriate, in an attempt to read the other girl’s thoughts.

“I hate how pretty you are.”

Seulgi’s words, from her perspective, had a bite that could have offended any other girl, but Irene didn’t seem to notice her inner turmoil as she looked down in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her wide smile. That action in itself made Seulgi’s blood rush, making her wonder if she was angry or shamelessly attracted to a girl she shouldn’t even look twice at.

“You’re one to talk.” Irene boldly met her gaze. “I’ve heard several people whispering about how they purposely visit the park near our school in the rare chance that you decide to go for a jog.”

Seulgi grimaced. She didn’t normally exercise, but she had gone running a few times to clear her mind. About issues regarding Irene. It seemed that she’d unintentionally garnered a fanbase.

“I’ve no interest in those people. Especially if they’re men.”

Irene bit her lip and tapped her index finger against the table. “So, women, huh?” She pretended to look at her notes before asking nonchalantly: “What’s your type?”

Seulgi was a bit taken aback, if she were to be honest. Irene had been awfully straightforward ever since they got back from the pool, and she was half flattered at the attention and half excited that Irene was now in her control. She decided to tease the smaller girl after noticing her fidgeting, so Seulgi tapped on her chin, looking into the distance with a mock thinking pose.

“I don’t know. Pretty?”

Irene cleared . “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Seulgi tilted her head, raising an eyebrow at Irene. “Something wrong with that?”

Irene coughed but shook her head. “What type of pretty?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Irene gestured broadly, “you said I was pretty too. But there’s different types of pretty. So I’m asking what type of pretty you like.”

Seulgi smirked. “Any pretty will do.” She leaned forward into Irene’s space, making the older girl slide down in her seat. “In fact…”

“In fact?” Irene parroted a little too enthusiastically.

“In fact,” Seulgi continued, “I like really pretty girls.”

“What?”

“Actually, forget everything I said. I do have a type.”

“Mmm.”

“Well, first she’s gotta be pretty. But since you asked what type of pretty…”

“Yeah?”

Seulgi smiled. “She’s gotta be smaller than me.”

Irene sat up straighter.

“She’s gotta have some nice curves, since I don’t have them, but have a face that’s cute.”

Irene widened her eyes and blinked rapidly, pouting just the slightest bit while “adjusting” her shirt to tease some of her assets.

“She’s gotta be smart. God, intelligent women are y.”

Irene quickly shifted her eyes to her textbooks and flipped a few pages, nodding every now and then. “That’s all?”

“No.” Seulgi cracked her knuckles, which prompted Irene to lean across and slap her hands. Seulgi frowned slightly. “I like kind-hearted women.”

Irene faltered. Seulgi watched as she seemed to withdraw into herself, hugging her stomach as she stared at a spot on the table that didn’t have her notes or books open.

“Irene? You okay?”

Irene looked up at her and nodded, eyes not mirroring the smile she gave Seulgi. Seulgi saw her vulnerability as a chance to push forward.

“Now that I think about it, you really seem to fit my ideal type, Irene.”

Irene laughed, a hollow sound that Seulgi’s ears seemed to want to reject, a reminder of a jarring whisper from years ago.

“You’re really funny, Seul.” Irene’s face was emotionless, gripping Seulgi’s heart in terror with its similarity to Irene’s dream counterpart. “I don’t think you’ll actually like someone like me.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Seulgi asked.

Irene shook her head. “Just because.”

“Well, I think you’re wrong.”

“Huh?” Irene squinted at her. “What are you talking about?”

Seulgi got up from her seat and slid into the seat next to Irene, leaning close enough to count the smaller girl’s eyelashes. There was a beauty mark near her eye that seemed to be the only imperfection on her flawless face.

“My ideal type is you, is what I’m talking about, Irene.” Seulgi tilted her head, making it seem like she was about to kiss her. “I’m telling you that I have no interest in Joy or any of the people waiting for me at the park. I only have an interest in you.”

“What?”

It was a whisper said against Seulgi’s lips, the warm breath brushing gently against her like a paintbrush to canvas. Irene’s eyelashes fluttered against Seulgi’s cheekbone as she blinked, a caress that emitted the most careful sparks of desire that Seulgi thought could ever exist. Seulgi leaned forward a bit more, but Irene didn’t move. She didn’t pull back, so Seulgi pressed to Irene’s.

Seulgi had always thought that the softest thing in the world was the feeling of her dad’s fluffy cheeks after he shaved in the morning. His skin was extremely soft for a man’s, and she would often hear her mom about spending more on skincare than herself. It was a softness paired with a happy m