A/N : This is not the type of fanfic that will make you scream or

The Way She Makes Me Feel

She typed onto the search bar and hit the enter key. While reading the paragraphs of words which suggested to her what she’s been searching for, lines creased on her forehead as she shook her head.

No matter how many times she punched the keys of her keyboard with the pads of her fingers and no matter how hard she hits the enter key every time, they will never be able to provide her with what she was searching for.

//

She suppressed her urge to run and throw her arms around the girl with pink backpack when she saw her for the first time.

Instead, she picked up the paper that slipped off the latter’s fingers and passed it back to her.

She made a mental note of the metallic badge that was pinned onto the pink backpack.

Her name was Irene.

//

Irene pushed open the classroom’s door and look around the room. Her eyes scanned the room, most of the seats were taken except for that one; that one seat next to the brunette girl.

She remembered the light vanilla smell of the girl with pink backpack and it was coming her way. She heard how the chair next to her was being dragged lightly, scratching against the linoleum floor covering before Irene collected in the seat, next to her.

“Hey, you,” Irene smiled. “Thank you for returning me my notes earlier that day.”

“Hello,” she greeted back, spinning her pen between her fore and middle finger. “It’s nothing. You should pay attention to this class, it’s important.”

Irene nodded to her words and ped her pencil case.

Before she slipped past the crowd of people in the classroom, Irene got hold of her arms.

She lifted an eyebrow at her action.

“What’s your name?” Irene asked boldly, heart hammering her chest.

“My name is Wendy,” she answered before she gently peeled off the slender fingers wrapping around her wrist and left the classroom.

That day, Wendy felt electricity running across her body when slender fingers touched her skin. It was as if heat radiating from Irene’s skin was being passed on to her body with that simple touch.

Wendy tried googling and typed specific words into the search engine.

She found nothing.

//

That day, Irene saw a shadow slipped into a classroom with only a lecturer and a few students.

Wendy graced her fingers around the fine wood of the chair. She felt no electricity coursing through her veins. She felt the warm air wrapping around her skin like a piece of blanket.

“You look happy. Have you found what I told you to?” Professor Kim looked at her.

“I felt electricity when she touched me,” Wendy spoke while playing with her own fingers, wondering how a simple touch could do wonders to her heart.

“You’re making an improvement,” Professor Kim jotted onto the piece of paper on her clip board before she looked up to a smiling face.

Irene hid behind the opaque wooden door and peeped through the transparent glass on it. She smiled lightly when she saw the corner of Wendy’s lips turned up.

//

For the past two weeks, Wendy happened to have lunch at the same yellow, wooden table, under the same tree with Irene.

Wendy didn’t understand how jittery she felt whenever Irene scooted closer to her and offered to share food from her lunch box, with her.

Sometimes they will meet there to do revision together after they are done with their classes. And sometimes Irene will ditch her last period just to hear Wendy strumming to her guitar and humming to her own music.

That night, Wendy tilted her head to a pink faced Irene who bent down, with hands on her knees and beads of perspiration hanging onto the sides of her face, apologizing to the former for being late for the study session they had planned.

“It’s okay,” Wendy remembered herself saying as she uncapped a bottle of mineral water she had bought for Irene for the studying session.

Then, she casually reached out for a piece of tissue and wiped the beads of perspiration off Irene’s face.

She didn’t forget how the shades of pink on Irene’s face became crimson red and she didn’t know how to explain the bubbles in her stomach when she saw the curves of Irene’s lips.

//

She lifted her hand and hesitated before she knocked on the door lightly.

“Irene?”

“It’s me.”

There was nothing striking about this room that Irene was in now. Plain walls on the sides and glitters hanging onto the ceiling with classical music playing softly against the gentle wind.

“You wanted me here, right?” Irene asked as she walked around the room. The nothingness in this room made her more intrigued about the few students who were in here, especially Wendy.

“Wendy told me about you and I would like to thank you for helping her,” Professor Kim rested her pen on her table, pushed her spectacles to the bridge of her nose, to look properly at Irene.

“I helped her with nothing,” Irene looked back, confusion evident in her eyes.

“Wendy is different, Irene. She doesn’t know how to love neither does she feel love,” Kim sighed quietly, sadness weighing her down.

“Why is that so? Did something happen to her?” Irene felt herself panic for some reason.

--

Professor Kim explained how Wendy was an abandoned child after her mother had given birth to her. Just like the other students who frequent this room, Wendy needed help. The other students had problems ranging from the basic livelihood problems to anger management issues.

Professor Kim later explained that once a child is separated with her mother when she is born, she wouldn’t be able to trust people easily.

However Wendy was different, Professor Kim said. Irene felt the same way too.

Not that Wendy was different the way how Professor Kim described her to Irene, but rather, Wendy was different to Irene because Irene loved her.

 “Wendy is different because of her inability to love. Even if she is falling in love, she doesn’t know that she is, indeed, in love. Her time spent with you proves that you made her learnt how to love, except, she doesn’t understand what love is.”

“This is why I need you to help her; help her navigate her way to love and hopefully, to you.”

Irene felt how clammy her palms were before she gave a firm nod to Professor Kim and left the room with a racing heart.

She knew how different Wendy was. Wendy was never the type with more than five words; she was quiet, calm and peaceful, Wendy rarely smiles and when she does, it was to Irene and only Irene, Wendy waits patiently for Irene and never blamed her once, for being late at times.

It was as if the word “anger” never occurred to Wendy and Irene always felt that Wendy’s inability to feel love caused her to forget anger in some ways.

//

One day, Wendy flipped open to a page in a light blue book and gently shoved it across the table to Irene.

Irene read the different adjectives that was on the page with a title of “How Irene makes me feel”.

Words like “fire”, “electricity”, “happy” and “smiley” were all on the page and Irene smiled softly.

“Professor Kim said you could help me and she told me to write all the words associated to how I feel when I’m with you, down on this page,” Wendy said quietly. “Will you help me?”

Irene felt a tug on her heart and she slowly in a breath of the lukewarm air. “Yes, I will.”

“Okay,” Wendy took Irene’s hand and felt how her heart bubbled at the touch, how sweaty her palms were and how Irene didn’t mind and tighten her hold instead.

//

Irene agreed to help and Wendy was happy that she did.

Holding of hands turned to hugging and occasional pecks on cheeks.

Smiles turned to laughter and sweet silence that enveloped them together.

Studying sessions turned to movie nights with Wendy lying on Irene’s shoulders.

Wendy remembered how her tear-stained cheeks were kissed by Irene before the latter told her to take care for her exchange programme.

Wendy promised to be back and Irene nodded and smiled sweetly at her before she boarded the plane.

They were never apart and even if they were, they were close at heart.

//

She pulled open her curtains and felt the sunrays against her skin. She loved the smell of flowers in her garden and bitter taste of coffee lingering in the room after her breakfast.

“Hello,” she said when she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her waist and a sharp chin resting on her shoulders.

“Hello,” Irene replied and Wendy giggled.

“It tickles,” Wendy touched those fingers that made her feel all sorts of emotions in her own heart whenever Irene touches her.

“It does,” Irene rested her cheek against Wendy’s cheek.

“I…” Wendy said softly.

“It’s okay,” Irene preferred words hanging in the air when she knew how Wendy’s actions proved what she wanted to say.

“I love you,” Wendy said quietly, happy with the fact that she finally said those three words after three years. Irene told her that “I love you” meant more than just three simple words; it meant promises and sticking with one another through thick and thin.

“I love you too.”

//

P.S : Not the best written Wenrene fic I’ve written, I know.