Seulgi hasn’t moved from the couch since she flopped onto it five hours ago. It’s been a bad day, and her mood is incredibly sour. She doesn’t bother replying to any of her texts, or pick up any phone calls. She doesn’t even move to go eat lunch, which has been long past due three hours. She knows she’ll get scolded later by the one and only, but she doesn’t right now, planting face down on the couch is the most inviting.

A sharp series of knocks on the front door jolts her head up just enough to peer over the armrest. Seulgi doesn’t bother moving when she sees the oh-too-familiar silhouette, already rummaging through a bag, behind her curtained windows. After all, only one other person has the keys to her apartment.

The front door shoves open and Irene tumbles in, worry etched all over her face. Her eyes scan the room wildly before she realizes Seulgi is lying on her stomach on the couch, looking at her. Irene rushes over, kneels by Seulgi's side, and grasps her hands tightly. Seulgi just stares, her usually lined eyes deceptively innocent today.

“Oh my gosh, Seul, are you okay?” Irene asks, almost whimpering. “Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Do you-”

Seulgi forces her hands out of Irene's grip and pokes a finger to the older girl's forehead.

She sighs. “I’m okay. I’m just in a bad mood.” She doesn’t elaborate, knowing how Irene will disapprove. She's already slightly intimidated by how Irene, who is normally much more calm, is unnerved today.

Irene purses her lips. “Have you eaten yet?” Seulgi only gives her a guilty, cheeky smile. Irene frowns even more before standing up, pulling Seulgi up with her. “Come on, let’s go.” She interlocks their fingers instinctively and drags Seulgi with her, whose hair is still disheveled and eyes still puffy.

“Wait, but I haven’t changed yet!” Seulgi struggles to pull Irene back, but Irene stops altogether and looks back. Irene glances up and down at Seulgi, a full two seconds, as Seulgi tries to pout to get her way.

Irene shrugs. “You look beautiful already,” she says casually. “Let’s go!”

Seulgi lets Irene pull her along this time, a soft smile tugging at her lips. It may have been an offhand comment to outsiders, especially coming from someone as seemingly nonchalant as Irene, but she knows better.

Irene doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask Seulgi anything, only focuses on the road with two hands on the steering wheel. Seulgi doesn’t dare speak up either. She just wonders when Irene will stop the car and lecture her about eating on time and answering text messages.

Instead, the car suddenly jolts and Seulgi looks up from her lap to see that they’ve pulled up to her favorite diner.

“Are you coming?” Irene is already out of the car, walking in the direction of the diner. Seulgi wonders if Irene is angry, since she usually opens the car door for her.

By the time Seulgi finally decides to walk in, Irene has already purchased a plate of fries and a bowl of vanilla ice cream, set on the tray she’s carrying. The two shuffle into a booth, with one sitting across from each other.

Irene pushes the tray toward Seulgi. “Eat.” Before Seulgi can protest, Irene dips a fry into the ice cream and pokes it into Seulgi's mouth. It hangs there awkwardly before Seulgi chews on it tentatively, swallows it, and realizes how hungry she really is.

She immediately grabs some fries and drowns them in the ice cream by the fistful, and stuffs them into .

“See, I knew you were hungry!” Seulgi can hear the smugness in Irene's tone, but chooses to ignore it.

She doesn’t look up from the tray, only picks up some fries, dunks them in ice cream, gulps them down, repeat.

“What were you sad about today?”

Seulgi's hand hangs in midair, just as another fry is about to be delivered to her inviting appetite. She peeks at Irene sheepishly.

“The-.” she suddenly feels extremely foolish and wants to forget the entire situation, but she knows Irene is waiting. “The drama I’ve been following had a really terrible ending. The guy got hit by a car and the girl ended up with the loser.”

Her eyes drop back down at her plate, as she feels the shame creeping in. The little smudge of old ketchup on the corner of the tray suddenly seems extremely interesting.

Seulgi feels soft fingers tracing up her cheek, as Irene reaches for a dangling strand of hair and tenderly tucks it behind Seulgi's ears.

“Do you feel better now?”

Seulgi raises her head, sees Irene staring at her delicately, lovingly.

Something flutters inside of her, giddily, growing. Seulgi smiles widely, and nods.

Irene grins, her twinkling eyes curving slightly. “As long you’re happy, then everything’s good!”

Seulgi beams, glowing with a sudden, immense love she has for her girlfriend. Only Irene can be this sincere with her. She almost bursts from the giddy butterflies diving around in her stomach, and doesn’t realize what she does next.

Just as Irene looks up from dipping another fry, she’s suddenly attacked by two hands squeezing her cheeks together, an adorable button nose closing in in her view, and a pair of plump lips planting a wet one on her. Neither realize that the ice cream coated on Seulgi lips, which she never bothered to wipe clean, has been smudged all over Irene's face, until Seulgi sits back down happily in her seat.

Irene blinks and is about to smile when she her lips, tasting something horrifyingly sticky and sweet, something she hasn't even had a chance to eat today but the other girl has.

“Ew! Yah!”