She wishes that waking up doesn't have to be so hard. That it doesn't have to involve a bunch of alarms and lots of rolling around before she finally falls flat on the floor before she can even get up. Hopes could bother herself to at least turn on the heater before she takes a shower or try to at least dress herself decently according to the weather. She wishes for a strength to push the doors open and the will to leave her dorm room. 

It was Spring when she stepped out of the glass doors. The wind was harsh against her skin and she shivered, tiny hands coming to latch itself onto her biceps. The thin fabric of her flannel was deemed useless against the cold, and she's only a few steps away from her building. 

Yet her feet continued its trail towards the opposite direction, walking its usual route. I have a class from Professor Kim at the Linguistics building. That'll take some time… 

"Hey, Irene!" 

Pause. The autopilot pauses for a short instance at the call of her name. Her feet had halted, and she paused, the thoughts in her head gone in an instant. It took a brief second before she registers her name, another second for the cogs to start its slow process and another before she feels an arm latched with her own. She stumbles on her own feet, and it didn't occur to her till then how weak her footing had been. But the arms around her were firm and secure, and she stayed, her body latched into another. 

"Easy there," the girl chuckles, and for the first time since last December, she feels warmth spreading along her skin and her fist curls against the thick coat of another. 

"Wendy…" she called, her voice akin to a tired whisper. She shook her head, regained her footing and blamed the Monday blues. Her blonde companion looked at her with furrowed brows, a pout replacing her pearly grins. Irene feels the warmth leave her and she clenches her fist and hopes it stays. 

Wendy, all smiles and bright like her newly dyed blonde hair. Up to this day, Irene still wonders how they ended up becoming friends and why she stayed. It makes her ponder every single time the blonde would come up to greet her early in the morning, and every time she would insist on eating breakfast with her when she has a bunch of people waiting literally on every table in the cafeteria. Irene wonders if it's pity and feels an uncomfortable weight settle on her chest. 

She feels warm hands cradling her jaw, gently tilting to adjust her line of sight, "Are you okay?" she asked, gentle brown eyes luring her in and she shifted onto the younger's hold. Irene wonders what the blonde meant when she asked her question. Did she mean to ask if she had slept fine? Or, if there's anyone or anything that bothered her before they met? Irene ponders and Wendy waits, patient as ever. And Irene whispers, "Fine,"

She slept just fine, in fact, all she did was sleep. And it's too early for anyone to bother her or for anything bad to happen. Warm fingers tuck her hair on the back of both ears. She looks up to find the same cloud of worry in Wendy's eyes, parted for words wanting to come out. They stayed like that for a few more seconds before Wendy gently tapped her cheek, closed as she shook her head, "It's okay," she mouthed. 

"We should get breakfast, Irene." 

Wendy squeezes her hand one more time before she turns away. Irene looks at Wendy's back and feels a tug in her chest. She swallows thickly, yet it didn't dislodge the lump that had formed there. She wants to say something, anything, yet words don't come out. She doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know how to ease the burn setting blaze in her chest. 

Why did it feel like I was lying?

The day passes idly after that. They took a sit on their usual spot and Wendy bought her home-cooked beef noodles and pudding for dessert. She somehow managed to swallow her food, despite the lodge on ; although it felt more like swallowing stones. She chugs her water and chokes, and Wendy wipes her chin with a playful grin. Nonetheless, Wendy's hands are gentle and her laugh isn't mocking. Irene looks at her and tries to lock it onto her memories. 

The pair meets after class, and Wendy gives her a hug like usual. They're in front of the dance class, which is empty every evening. It was this side of the campus that was quiet and away from prying eyes. It's here when they would separate ways to get to their buildings and meet again after the day ends. 

Irene holds onto Wendy's coat, sneaks her hands past it to press onto the shirt underneath. Wendy has always been warm and Irene likes it when she holds her like this. She feels a soft press of lips on her forehead and she sighs, feels the unease leave her mind. Wendy tugs her closer and hums against her hair, finger threading through black locks. 

They stayed there for what felt like an eternity before Wendy's shirt dampens from the tears Irene had shed. Wendy holds her tighter, a hand cradling the back of her head and the other around her waist. Wendy presses a kiss on her cheek and gently backs her towards the dance studio. It's neither of their courses, but Seulgi, the kind dance student who always ends up last to stay, gave them her keys. 

"You guys seems like you needed the space,"

Irene hears a click but pays no mind to it. This is the only autopilot in her system that she likes and goes along with. She breathes hard and Wendy gently tilts her head to face her. The light was dimmed and her reflection was all over the room, but it's the only time she didn't mind that she could see herself. 

Her eyes face Wendy's who never left hers. They pressed their foreheads against each other and began a dance they only knew (or at least, in their little bubble, a dance they only knew). They sway gently, her bare feet on top of Wendy's sneakers and they danced to hum played on Wendy's phone (she didn't even realize how Wendy played a song). 

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked again, this time her fingers were soothing the back of her head and Irene closed her eyes, cherishes it and tries to remember. 

"I'm okay," she whispers, eyes coming meet brown, "I'm okay since I'm with you." 

Irene closes her eyes, feels the heavy weight slowly easing from her chest. The tug is no longer painful. She presses her lips against Wendy's chin and the need for words is gone. 

Wendy understands, and the months they've been away from each other with no contact and only plain padded walls to stare at, instantly melts from her memory. Irene closes against her lover, soft lips caressing against her own. 

She missed this. She spent Christmas and new year alone in a small room was hard and cold but here, in a small studio, Wendy is warm, always warm and she's glad that after all that she can finally cherish this warmth better, process her lover's words better. And finally, say 'I love yous' in between kisses without the constant nagging to degrade herself of how she doesn't deserve any of Wendy's affection. 

She pulls at Wendy's tucked shirt and places her hands against warm skin; welcomes the tongue to meet her own. She etches the heart beat against her palms, at how rapid they are. She feels and tries to remember every sound that Wendy lets out, the feel of her lips against her own and warmth of her skin against her hands. She loses her eyes, presses them closer and wishes that she remembers this forever even when her demons makes her forget what she cherishes the most.

"I love you" 

"I love you too" 

"I missed you" 

"I missed you every day," 

"I'm glad that you're okay," 

"I'm glad you stayed,"