Irene has royally ed up. The things she said to Seulgi were cruel and inexcusable; that, she knows. She knows she was wrong, and she should never have said any of the words she let go of because none of them were true. 

     But she did. And she can’t undo what has been done no matter how much she tries. She knows this.

     What she doesn’t know is what to do next. Now that the hurt has been inflicted, what else can she do? An apology isn’t enough. It could never be enough. Seulgi was doing her best in accepting Irene into her life while Irene just kept on pushing her out, giving her false hope that she had broken down Irene’s walls.

     Two steps forward, a dozen steps back.

     She didn’t sleep that whole morning. Lying down and staring at the ceiling, she ponders how she would apologize to Seulgi, properly, listing down what had happened in her head and thinking of ways to fix things.

     Getting up as soon as the sun had set, she ends up pacing around the house for another few hours before realizing she doesn’t even know where Wendy lives or where Wendy’s bakery was. Seulgi’s home was at the edge of town, right by the trail that splits into a path towards the sea and the other towards the mountains. 

     She walks around town with a hood over her eyes and a scarf to hide her fangs. It’s loud. It’s bright, and the clerks calling out for potential customers had her flinching in surprise. In the middle of town’s noise, where the crowd was thick and people were celebrating, she smelled cinnamon and that same sweet scent in the cave when Seulgi made s’mores. 

     A short girl with shaggy hair stood in front of the shop, flipping the sign hanging by the door to say ‘closed’. Irene walks up to her and clears to make her presence known.

     “Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Wendy?”

     “Oh, hello! Right in front of you,” she smiles kindly. “How may I help you?”

     Irene lifts her hood slightly. “My name is Irene…” She trails off as she sees a look of recognition wash over Wendy’s face.

     “Seulgi doesn’t want to see you right now.” Wendy’s tone is a complete 180 from a few seconds ago.

     “I know. I just-- I want to know if she’s alright,” Irene shakes her head. Of course, Seulgi wasn’t alright. “What I meant to say was, how is she? And where...” She loses her confidence as Wendy turns around.

     “Come with me.”

***

     Seulgi was twice orphaned.

     She was born into a poor family.

     Her mother died giving birth while her father worked hard and devoted his life to his daughter. At times, he had no choice but to do dirty work to come home and put food on the table. Seulgi never thought ill of him, though. In her eyes, he was a hero. He was the king of the blades of grass they had rolled around in. He was the guardian who soothed the tiny cuts she got all over. 

     One night, he got captured smuggling cargo for a rich bastard uptown. Seulgi never saw him again.

     He had always called her princess and would make her feel that way despite what scarce belongings they had. Seulgi cherishes those feelings so dearly. Children tend to forget their childhoods, and Seulgi was no exception to that. But she held onto the affection and fondness she felt, the unadulterated and unconditional love.

     A loving couple who couldn’t bear a child found her working at a coal mine when she was 13. They took her in and gave her a home. It was the first time she’d lain on a bed, had a hot meal that filled her stomach, had warm and untattered clothes that were more than just one dress. She had finally felt comfort, and she was happy. Unfortunately, the man died at sea and the woman couldn’t handle the heartbreak and followed soon after. Relatives had seized the property and thrown Seulgi out.

     Seulgi was alone once again at the age of 16. 

     She worked carrying supplies for the builders, making deliveries from town to town, jobs that didn’t involve talking to other people. She was cursed, they said. Everyone who tried to get close to her had miraculously died. She left a trail of dead bodies in her shadow despite all her efforts of kindness.

     Krystal, the daughter of the local butcher, had slipped and fallen to her death on the mountain a week after trying to befriend Seulgi. 

     Chanyeol, the tall bard who led tavern sing-alongs, got struck by lightning during a storm not too long after playing a song with her.

     Mr. Song, the tax collector, had been trampled by his horse the afternoon after he shoved Seulgi to the ground for not having enough money to pay him.

     It was all pure coincidence. Krystal loved to hike. Chanyeol chased after thrills and storms. Mr. Song mistreated the people around him, what more his animals. But the townspeople needed someone to blame, so they blamed Seulgi because they were all somehow involved with her in some way.

     Seulgi could handle all the hard work. She could handle the isolation. But what she could not stand were the stares. They were all filled with pity and self-righteousness. They would look at her as if she was the bottom of the barrel. As if they could be anything, so long as they weren’t Seulgi.

     And they talked. Talked as if they cared. Talked to each other in front of her as if she was a spectacle and not a real person. They talked to each other about wishing to help, about sympathy, when they only said it to fluff their own feathers. To make themselves feel morally superior among their peers. They always kept a short distance from Seulgi. Close enough to witness the wreck, but not too close to be involved. 

     Seulgi vowed to never become like them. Seulgi had vowed to be strong in the face of cowards. She vowed to never leave empty words and promises of helping. What greater strength is there than to be kind in a cruel world?

     She saved up her money and left that hellish town at the age of 21.

     A fresh start was what she needed. Hopping on a boat and leaving all traces of her previous life, she held the hope in her heart dearly. She started working as a mortician in the new town to avoid meeting people and having the same events repeat. She was good with the dead. Might as well make use of the “curse” the people had accused her of.

     As far as she could tell, the place seemed alright. The people weren’t as nosy, and when she did hear gossip, it was never outright wicked. For the first time since she last felt her father’s hug, she felt at peace; albeit a little lonesome.  

     Her peace was disrupted when two arguing ladies could be heard outside the mortuary’s door, voices loud enough to echo through the hallway and to where Seulgi was working. She walked over to see what the commotion was all about.

     “Hi! You’re the new girl, right?” A tall girl with long hair the color of fox’s fur had stood before her.

     “Do you have any hearts in a jar in here?” The other girl had stepped out from behind the tall one, much shorter in height and hair length and with a smile that screamed mischief. “I’m Yeri. This tree is Joy,” she points to the taller woman way too close to her face, and Joy slaps her hand away.

     “Uh, no… I discard the organs.”

     “Aw, bummer.” Joy pouts.

     “I’m still ing right. I’m sure of it,” said Yeri.

     “Hell no. How do you explain the shape then? It’s literally called a heart! The shape of a heart is a heart!”

     “No, it looks like a fist! As big as one too!” 

      Seulgi smiled at the two women. The people here seemed a lot nicer than from where she was. Though they were a bit odd.

     “Um, If I may interrupt,” Seulgi steps forward and smiles shyly at the two, “The heart is actually a little larger than a fist, but it’s a good approximation.”

     Joy beams at the information.”See, Yeri? You’re wrong. Pay up.” She laughs. “I like your funny words, funeral lady.”

     “Oh! My name is Kang Seulgi. Just Seulgi is fine,” she says as she looks at Yeri sulking in the corner.

     “Uh,” she glances between the two. “The heart also isn’t shaped like, you know…” Seulgi makes a heart with her hands.

     “Aha! We’re both wrong. I don’t owe you !” Yeri taunts Joy.

     Seulgi laughs for the first time in years. It echoes throughout the morgue, contrasting the aura of death with the sound of lighthearted happiness.

***

     Wendy led Irene to a door behind the bakery. 

     “Stay here,” said Wendy before going inside.

     Irene looks down on the cobblestone ground. Her eyes trace the crevices along each stone like rivers flowing. She was scuffing her shoe against the stone when the door opened. She saw Seulgi sitting by the fireplace, her back turned, as Wendy held the door open. 

     Wendy looks at her curiously, as if signaling her to go in and wondering why she wasn’t budging.

     “I can’t enter without--”

     “Come in, Irene,” she hears Seulgi say. Seulgi kept her gaze on the fire.

     Irene entered with tentative steps, moving slowly like Seulgi was an untamed tiger. She was cautious as to not worsen the situation by causing more damage. She barely notices Wendy leaving and giving her a firm pat on the back, encouraging but telling her to watch her actions. 

     “Seulgi,” she starts. Seulgi stays sitting silently. Irene takes this as her cue to continue, her chance to apologize.

     “Seulgi, I’m so sorry. I had said things that were malign and untruthful. You are undeserving of my irrational outbursts due to my own frustrations.” Irene pauses and takes a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. What had happened was because of my immaturity. You didn’t do anything wrong. I-I was just interpreting it all weirdly. Everything is so new to me. I got overwhelmed.” 

     Seulgi stands and turns to her but keeps mum. 

     Irene bows deeply. “I want to apologize deeply and sincerely. I will work on myself. I’ll be better. I’ll learn how to feel things better.” She exhales and her breath shakes. “What happens next is all up to you. I understand if you do not forgive me. You don’t have to. If you wish for me to stay, then I will, but… if you want me to leave, I have no objections.”

     Irene finally hears Seulgi’s voice. Had it been any other scenario, she would have wept. The usually soft and demure woman sounded cutthroat and somber. All it does is amplify the sting. Irene had done this to Seulgi with her words alone. She couldn’t bear to imagine what damage she could do if she lost control of herself. 

     “Look, what you said was out of line. And it’s going to take some time for the pain from your words to go away.” Seulgi steps forward into Irene’s space and holds her by the shoulder, pulling her up. She looks at her in the eye, a blaze behind her dark irises. “But let me ask you, did you mean what you said?”

     “No! Of course not. I wasn’t thinking and my mouth just let go of the first thought that came into my head. I realize that my words weren’t directed at you. I was just frustrated with myself.”

     “Then I forgive you,” says Seulgi with a straight face.

     Irene is conflicted. She’s relieved that Seulgi doesn’t hate her, though she would be justified if she did. But she’s also apprehensive and concerned. She feels guilt more than anything.

     “But why? I hurt you, and yet you forgive me that easily.” Irene’s mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Why…”

     “Because I want to.”

     “I told you already several times. I’m dangerous. This time, I hurt you with my words. I-I’m afraid I might… If I--”

     “Enough, Irene.” Seulgi’s voice is stern and it silences the world around them.

     “Can’t you see that I don’t care about that?” rasped Seulgi. “What else should I do? How else can I show you? What can I do to make you trust me?”

     Irene doesn’t respond, and Seulgi takes this as an opportunity to speak. 

     “You were right. I did take pity on you. You looked miserable every time we met by coincidence, and I wanted to help you. Is that so wrong?” Seulgi doesn’t want to prolong the argument. But she’s only human. And humans have a nasty instinct for revenge, no matter how much of an angel Seulgi seemed to be. “Honestly, I think I had my hopes a little too high up. How could I have expected you to trust me when you have your own pity party going on inside your head?”

     Hands fidget under the cloak Irene’s wearing, clawing at her forearms the same way she was scratching the dinner table a week ago. She hangs her head down in shame.

     “I’m sorry. That came out harsher than intended.” Seulgi softens for a second. “But I mean my words, Irene. I won’t take them back.” Seulgi’s exasperated, the confrontation is tiring her out. “I want to help you, Irene. And the journey is going to be rough and painful, but what is life without its troubles? Talk to me, okay? You have to let me help you.” 

     “Believe me when I say I forgive you. I do,” Seulgi reiterates, her voice firm. She places her hand on her chest and her next words are a little lighter, playful almost. “But it still hurts here, so you better make up for that.” 

     Seulgi finally lets out a small smile. It’s minuscule, hardly noticeable, but it’s there. “Let’s go home and talk some more, hm?” 

     Seulgi puts her hand out, but Irene doesn’t take it, still looking at the ground.

     The tense silence stretches. Irene is gripping at her own wrist and it leaves red crescents on her skin.

     “I know it’s foolish of me to ask when I came here to apologize, but,” Irene pauses contemplating her next words carefully, “Do you… do you think you can kill me when the time comes?”

     She’s only answered by silence. Irene smiles bitterly at that and lets the moment pass. 

     “Nevermind. That’s just me not thinking before speaking again.”

     When she looks up at Seulgi, she sees that look in her eyes again. 

     It stabs her heart. But instead of pulling it out and throwing the meaning away, she lets it be. She lets herself hurt. 

     All of that hurt goes away at the touch of Seulgi’s hand leading her back to their home.

***

     They return to Seulgi's home--their home--hand in hand. The walk was quiet. Both of them have a lot on their minds. They were both tired, but neither of them wanted to go to bed with animosity festering in their hearts.

     Irene is the first to break the silence. "Have you eaten?"

     "Yeah," Seulgi curtly replies. "You?"

     Irene hums in response. It feels as if they're back to square one. All the progress they've made together was for naught. It annoys Seulgi, though she may be patient. It was as if something was perpetually blocking their relationship from improving.

     "Look," Seulgi calls Irene's attention. Seulgi sits by the dinner table and gestures for Irene to sit beside her. "You have to tell me what's bothering you. I did not pester you about it in the past because clearly, it's a sensitive subject, but it's affecting other people now, Rene." She holds Irene's hands and guides her to look at Seulgi directly. "I know you don't want to hurt anyone. But trying to force everything down only suffocates you."

     Irene observes the way Seulgi's hands wrap around hers. The way they engulf her smaller ones. She whispers her words. "I don't like it when you treat me like I'm porcelain or like a child."

     "What do you mean?"

     "I know I've gone astray from humanity for a long time. But I... I tried so hard to preserve what was left of me before I turned into this." Her eyebrows meet in the middle as she grimaces. "Sometimes, you treat me like I'm so different from you. Like I'm a foreign entity you have to teach." 

     Seulgi starts drawing soothing circles on the back of Irene's palms as she talks. 

     "It's so frustrating because you have to teach me all of these things. You're doing all of this to guide me, but I can't help but feel useless. Like I'm a burden. Like I've lost who I was along the way and succumbed to being a monster." She chuckles darkly. "I really am wallowing in my own misery, aren't I?"

     "Hey, none of that, alright?" Seulgi hushes her distress. "Let yourself feel hurt, but don't blame yourself for your emotions," mutters Seulgi delicately.

     Seulgi softly smiles as she tucks Irene's hair behind her ear, affectionately patting her on the head. "Thank you for telling me, Rene. I'm sorry I misunderstood as well. I was imposing onto you what I thought you wanted without considering your actual feelings." 

     She sees Irene's eyes turn glassy. The dim light indoors making them sparkle with unshed tears. "I understand what you're going through more than you think. I was an outcast once. People looked at me with guilt and disgust and turned away." 

     A lone tear finally breaks free. Seulgi is quick to wipe it away. "I thought you would have wanted what I did at the time: for people to help. I acted with good intentions, but good intentions don't necessarily mean it will have a good effect. I'm sorry for assuming, Irene."

     "No! No, don't apologize." Irene's voice is hoarse and trembling. "I just wasn't ready. I was not prepared to trust someone again." More tears start flowing down her cheeks, and Seulgi pulls her in for a hug. 

     Irene mumbles into Seulgi's neck. "I'm ready now, Seulgi. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she cries.

     "Shh. I'm here. You did well today. One step at a time, okay? You did well," Seulgi consoles her while writing love letters on the expanse of Irene's back, giving her assurance. 

     The sun is up by the time Irene's tears die down to hiccups. She's halfway to dreamland with a headache and a sore throat in Seulgi's warm, accepting embrace. She thinks the soft feeling of Seulgi's lips on her forehead was a delusion from drifting in and out of slumber. 

     In her fatigue, Irene mumbles something incoherent. Seulgi tries to coax it out of her. 

     "Hm? What did you say," she whispers.

     "Joohyun. My name from before. Call. That," she slurs.

     Seulgi giggles fondly at her. "Alright. Go to sleep now, Joohyun." 

     Joohyun cuddles all the more closer. Her nose buries into Seulgi's neck, and she inhales her scent. She dreams of vast fields out in a sun-shower, frolicking around with her hand wrapped around another. She sees round cheeks and hears twinkling laughter. 

     Eternity in any heaven will get old in a while. But in Seulgi's arms, with the noontime heat permeating the house, Joohyun could have lived in that moment for all time.

A/N

A slightly longer update hehe thank you all for waiting

This one took me a little longer to write. I've been busy with juggling school and work and my own mental health. If this story starts turning a little angsty I'm sorry! hehe should I add an angst tag?