now playing: wine - taeyeon
"the more it ages the sweeter it gets"

she lifts the cigarette to her lips and takes a slow drag, feeling it fill her lungs, closing her eyes as she parts her lips to allow the wisps of smoke to escape. 

“he doesn’t like me smoking.” she comments offhandedly, opening her eyes to watch the thin trails of white disperse into the air. her company doesn’t say anything in response to that but she smiles that smile of hers that irene knows is one of understanding and a little bit of pity. 

“or drinking.” she adds as an afterthought, taking the wine glass from the table with her free hand and distracting herself with watching the dark red liquid swirl around in the clear glass. she is feeling particularly talkative and pensive today and she is sure seulgi thinks the same - if the amused look in her eyes and the fond smile on her face is any indication. 

they don’t usually say too much to each other. they don’t have to. it is pleasant enough to sit with a companion who understands you even without words, whose presence alone is a source of consolation and relief. 

“it’s a good wine, this.” seulgi says, lifting the glass to her lips after putting out her smoke on the ashtray in the middle of the small table between them. the wine was sweeter and fruitier; a delightful change to the bitter reds that her husband kept stocked in the house. 

irene nods. 

she doesn’t tell her friend that she intentionally made a trip this morning to the liquor store around the corner of the main street. she also doesn’t tell her about the conversation she had with the friendly owner of the store when she asked for their sweetest options. nor does she tell her about the image of her sweet smile that too frequently occupied her mind these days.

~

irene moved into their apartment in the autumn and she still remembers the day they moved into the dainty building near the centre of town after her husband’s job sent them here. how their movers caused a bit of a ruckus in the hallway, drawing attention to their arrival and how the residents who lived in the unit across from them in the hallway opened their door to meet them.

she watched with a polite smile as the man and her husband exchanged firm handshakes and words of introduction which quickly transitioned into talks of business and politics. that was when she lost interest and noticed the woman inside the neighbouring apartment, leaning against the wall with a smoke in hand and an enigmatic gaze as she observed all that was happening quietly without bringing any attention to herself - and it seemed that neither of the men were aware she was behind them, but only irene saw her and she saw irene. 

something about the woman, her eyes maybe, kept irene drawn to her. she was beautiful of course, but it was the air of mysteriousness she carried that made irene interested in finding out more about her.

it might have started that day, at that moment. the mutual acknowledgement of their similar fates and the beginning of a longing to be understood, to be heard and seen. 

they didn’t speak that day, but irene learned of her name when the husbands introduced their wives. 

seulgi. 

~

“it’s kang.”

“kang seulgi.” irene tries it out, finding the name rolls off her tongue rather smoothly. it was much better- much more fitting than lee, she thought to herself but she did not say it out loud. 

“do you have a korean name?” 

“i do.” she replies and she takes her time sipping the wine and savouring its taste and seulgi waits patiently, not rushing, always calm, like nothing in this world could sway her and irene wonders how she does it. how she can seem so carefree and even content with her life when they both knew of the complaints that inevitably came from being a woman in a time like this, in a place like this. 

she tells her but she doesn’t tell her that no one has called her by her real name since her mother passed away when she was 19 and she was married off to england at 20. 

seulgi tries the name out and irene feels emotions stir inside her. she is not even drunk but her face feels warm. 

seulgi smiles. 

“it’s very beautiful.” 

~

by the second month of living in their new home, irene had become accustomed to the routine and life in this new country. she had also grown familiar with the routine of her neighbours too.

mister lee left before the sun rose every morning except for sundays and he returned home after it was dark. he always carried a briefcase and always wore that brown flat cap of his. 

her husband worked shorter hours than mister lee did. it’s a matter of position, he said once. 

irene saw the wife sometimes. passing in the hall or stairway on the way out or in. less often but sometimes in the markets too. they exchanged polite smiles and a few greeting words at the most but irene wished she had more courage in her to say more.

on the first friday of the third month, after the men had left for work, a knock on irene’s door brought her attention away from the shirts she was ironing. 

it was seulgi, with a bottle of wine in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. she smiled and irene smiled back; like she knew this would happen, like she had been waiting. 

and so it began. a transitory time to sit at the table drinking wine, smoking, and talking to someone who listened and understood. once a week, sometimes twice. it became their escape; their time to be themselves even if only for a while. 

then they would return back to their homes to prepare dinner before it got dark with discreet smiles and hopeful hearts for the next time. 

~

“can i take a photograph of you?” seulgi asks.

irene’s lips curl up in a small, slightly bashful smile and her fingers toy with the cigarette in her hand while she thinks over seulgi’s bold request that was delivered with gentleness and hopefulness. she keeps seulgi hanging for moments longer before she finally nods her head once, the smile growing on her face as she sees seulgi’s expression brighten up even in the dim lighting of the room. 

seulgi rises from the table to the set of drawers near the bed and irene watches her retrieve a vintage camera from the second draw. she fiddles with the device as she nears the table again and irene looks at her with an expression that could only be described as fondness. 

“how do you want me?” 

seulgi looks up from the viewfinder, holding her gaze for a moment. “just like this.” she replies softly. 

but irene still feels self-conscious with the camera lens pointed at her and she straightens up in her seat, adjusting the way her elbow is resting on the table and letting the smoke dangle between two fingers. she isn’t sure where to look so she looks at seulgi, waiting for some direction. 

the shutter clicks and a flash goes off. 

~

seulgi looks at her like it is her first time seeing her every time. it is something akin to when one is shown a beautiful piece of artwork and they desire to view it intently so as to not miss a single detail and to admire it to the fullest. it is not like the way others look at her like what irene is used to. it fascinates her and excites her to be truly seen by someone for who she is. 

she’s lost count of how many times they have sat at seulgi’s table across from each other with the scent of smoke and sweet aged wine lingering in the air between them. but it is enough times that she’s committed the image of seulgi to her mind in the finest detail. from the mole above her left eye to the crinkle of her nose when she smiles widely to her lips that irene spent most of her time admiring. 

the shape of them when she was smiling or when she wasn’t, when she’s in deep thought, when she’s irritated, when she’s laughing, when she’s talking, when she’s biting them, when she wraps her lips around the end of the cigarette to take a puff and when she exhales the smoke, when she wets her lips before speaking.

irene observed all of it keenly.

the colour after she’s just applied lipstick, the colour after the lipstick comes off, the colour when she's finished her first glass of wine, the colour after she's been biting her lip too many times. 

some days they don’t really speak, they just look. and it is just as enjoyable as the days where conversation flows easy. 

~

irene thinks her husband might be growing a moustache these days but she’s not sure; she hasn’t noticed. 

~

“‘do you love him?”

“love?”

“yes. love.” 

a slow exhale and another drag from the cigarette before seulgi stubs it out in the ashtray and leans back in her chair. 

“it is certainly an interesting thing.” seulgi thinks aloud, looking out the window. 

it is raining today and irene knows that seulgi doesn’t like the rain as much as she does. she prefers the sunnier days and clear skies. 

seulgi says nothing else and irene thinks that means she doesn’t. 

“does he love you?” she asks then. 

at that, seulgi smiles like she has been told a silly joke. instead of answering she asks her a question in return. “what is something you love?”

“i suppose i love flowers.” irene answers. she’s just bought a fresh batch of tulips from the markets this morning so it came to mind rather quickly. 

“how much do you love them? what would you be willing to do for the flowers which you love so much?” 

“i do not know. perhaps not that much.” irene says with a crease in her eyebrows as she does not know where this is going. 

“so why do you love them?” 

“because they are beautiful and when i have them, it brings me joy.”  

“and so perhaps in that same way i am loved.” seulgi murmurs and she lights another smoke. irene is pretty sure she understands what seulgi means and just watches as seulgi watches the rain hit the window for a while. during this time she admires her side profile and her pensive expression that always intrigues irene. it takes some time before she speaks again. 

“allow me to ask you this then, joohyun. something i often think about but do not know the answer to. perhaps there is no answer, only individual opinion and belief.” seulgi finishes her smoke and puts it out before continuing. “but say there is a person who loves someone with all her heart but do not do anything or say anything that could possibly imply that they love them. because of this, the one they love believes that they are unloved. so then is this love? what i’m trying to say is that perhaps the condition for love to be love is that it must be felt. otherwise what is the point? what is the use of claiming you love someone if they do not feel that you do? or is love still love if one truly loves another regardless of whether it is received? am i making any sense?” 

irene wonders if seulgi asks this with her husband in mind or if it could possibly be someone else that she is thinking of. 

but maybe seulgi is right. it is not love- or at least it is a meaningless love if it is not felt. in this case, irene is not sure anymore if she is loved by her own partner as she has not felt loved. respected maybe, admired maybe, but loved? 

she mulls over seulgi's words carefully before responding. 

“i think love is what you believe it to be and it is real to the person who feels it. so then to the one who loves another but does not show it, it is still love to them. it would be wrong to say it is not love or that it is fake just because others do not perceive it or feel it in the same way. however, to the one who is loved but does not feel lo