Irene should pretend her interaction with Seulgi never happened. She should forget about Seulgi’s foolish kindness and run far away from the town. There is no point in remembering a moment so insignificant with a lifespan that lasts ‘till the sun’s last breath, or at least until she gets killed by pure misfortune. 

     But she has Seulgi’s coat. And it really shouldn't bother Irene. She’s done more atrocities greater than accidentally stealing a piece of clothing. Is it even considered stealing if it was given to her? Whatever. She has Seulgi’s coat and it’s annoying her. She normally wouldn’t care, but it seems Seulgi didn’t realize she gave Irene one of her possessions. 

     Worn out and well loved, a small notebook sits in one of the coat’s pockets. Inside are a few grocery lists, reminders, numbers, but most importantly there’s several doodles and sketches. Some of them are simple depictions of different places. Irene recognizes one illustration of the lake by the edge of the forest nearby. Most of the notebook is filled with sketches of different objects. However, what catches Irene’s attention are the detailed drawings of people. Seulgi’s art captures emotions in moments. And Irene, ever haunted by the curse of moments going faster than she can savor them, is enamored.

     She can’t keep this. It feels too personal. It feels wrong. Irene decides she has to go back. She would just return Seulgi’s belongings and leave. She has already thanked Seulgi that same night, she recalls and winces. 

     “What the , Irene? What are you doing?” Irene mumbles to herself. 

     Irene hops to her feet and stomps out of her little hideout. She’s temporarily residing in a small empty cave that could only fit a person of her height. She’d rather not interact with humans as much as possible.

***

     Around the same time she bumped into Seulgi the night before, she waits in the shadows of the trees and bushes by the right of the door to the mortuary. As she contemplates whether to just leave the coat by the doorstep or personally hand it to Seulgi, the door opens and the smell of citrus greets her. 

     “Ack! What the--” Seulgi yelps in surprise at the figure looming by the trees. She puts her hand to her heart, eyes closed, and exhales softly. She squints at the person and her voice rises a pitch higher when she recognizes the form. “Irene?”

     “Um…” , she was sure she had a curt response rehearsed. Say something short and straight to the point. Perhaps she’d compliment Seulgi’s drawings. And then she leaves. But here she is stalling, mind full of absolutely nothing. 

     “You know I gave you my coat so you could wear it, right?” Seulgi teases. Irene is holding her coat on her arm, neatly folded. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon. Although, I did say you’re welcome any time. And you are! I’m not saying it’s too soon for you to return or anything. I’m just surprised you’re back. Pleasantly surprised, I mean.” Seulgi’s words awkwardly trail off and she scratches the back of her neck while looking away from Irene.

     Irene steps forward with her hands outstretched, handing the coat over to Seulgi. A sudden gust of wind passes through. Seulgi takes the coat from her hands, but to Irene’s surprise, drapes it around Irene’s shoulders. 

     “You’re shivering.” Seulgi says.

     “I’m not cold. It’s more of a reflex. Muscle memory.”

     “Are you sure? You’re still shivering.” Seulgi states skeptically and looks Irene up and down with a grin.

     Irene huffs. “Nevermind that. I came here to return your coat.” 

     Just as Irene was about to slide it off, Seulgi holds her hands still with a gentle but firm grip. Her hands are warm against Irene’s icy skin.

     “Keep it.” Seulgi stretches her arms outward and gestures to herself and her many layers of clothing. “As you can see, I am plenty warm.” 

     Irene catches herself missing the heat from Seulgi's hands on top of hers that moved away sooner than she would’ve liked. She snapped out of her few seconds of silence when she remembered what compelled her to return Seulgi’s belongings in the first place.

     Irene reaches into the hidden pocket within the coat and retrieves the small notebook she’s adamant on returning. She can negotiate on the cloak, she’s thankful even, but she’ll make sure the sketchbook is reunited with its owner.

     “This is yours.” Irene hands over the notebook and Seulgi’s eyes light up in recognition and relief.

     “So that’s where it was! My god, I’ve been looking everywhere for this old thing.” Seulgi beams as she takes it and absentmindedly flips through the worn pages. “I thought I had lost it.” She chuckles as she places it into a satchel around her waist. “Thank you, Irene.”

     That’s it. Irene has returned Seulgi’s belongings. Seulgi insists on her keeping the coat, so Irene will. She should leave, really. The interaction is done. But they both stand still for a few moments. Seulgi sways her head from side to side as if thinking of something while Irene is completely unmoving. White wisps come from Seulgi’s every breath. Irene looks like a statue, unbreathing. The only sign of life is the moonlight glinting in her eyes.

     Irene turns to leave. The crunch of snow under a heavy step makes her pause. 

     “Wait!” Seulgi blurts out. “I-- Um-- Irene--” She clears and starts over. “Um, would you like to stay for dinner?”

     Irene raises her brow at that. “What?”

     “I mean, you could accompany me in the morgue. To feed. On the blood I extracted, of course. Not like there’s anyone else pumping blood around here. Ha ha…” 

     “Relax, Seulgi. I won’t bite.” Irene smirks. Her fangs peek out and the irony of what she said doesn’t go over Seulgi’s head.

     Irene turns and starts walking away.

     “That’s a no on dinner then?” 

     Irene hums in response, looking straight ahead.

     “Will I see you again?” 

      Irene hums again, but the pitch rises at the end. Seulgi takes this as a hopeful maybe. 

      She watches Irene’s back get smaller as she walks away. The vampire looks completely harmless from where she stands. She looks so tiny in Seulgi’s clothes, trudging away in the snow. Seulgi thinks Irene looks more like a fairy than a vampire; blonde hair, skin as white as the snow, and her eyes that sparkle in the dark. Seulgi’s overcome with the need to see her again already.