-9-

Sin your heart out.

I really want you in my bed right now...

-IB

Every infinitesimal fiber in my body quivered in hulking anticipation the very millisecond Irene's demanding yet sexily desperate text registered within the inky depths of my malignant mind.

Approximately seven days, six hours and thirty-two seconds had passed since the two of us mutually agreed to keep our distance from each other—mutual meaning Irene wanted me absolutely nowhere near her as she sailed through the 'red sea' for the entirety of the week and I willingly granted her that right.

But fuck me sideways, it was an unbearable experience.

I can't even recall a number of times I nearly gouged my own eyes out with a sharpened pencil point trying to contain my feverous urges for that damn girl.

She got a great sadistic kick out of it too.

The sneaky little vixen practically made it her mission to render me a hormonal mess every second of the day spent without her touch. I'd always catch the sly smirks she'd have twisted on those seductive rose petals she dares call lips whenever she'd gracefully saunter by me between classes.

'You want a taste, huh?' they silently teased. 'You fucking want it, don't you, Seulgi?'

That wasn't even a fraction of the torture I endured.

Spare period was a brutal fucking nightmare.

Sitting there watching Irene attractively engage in enthusiastic conversation with her dimwitted friends knowing we wouldn't be able to fuck each other's brains out afterward had me feeling rather ravenous...

About as ravenous as a handicapped lion shoved inside a cage full of mouthwatering gazelles.

The sexual frustration...

God, it almost hurt.

Yet, the agony proved well worth it in the end since she was now succumbing to the unvented yearning she harbored for me.

I've thirsted for this form of submission from the very beginning.

But, of course, I had to play with her first.

I wouldn't be me if I didn't.

You must really miss me, huh?

-xxx

Her reply was more brazen than I anticipated.

I wasn't prepared.

Yes...I miss you...

-IB

She was so shamelessly blunt about it, I almost wondered if I was the one being played with.

This theory was conveyed wholeheartedly in her next text through the damning evidence of simple words.

...I miss every inch of you.

-IB

My heart rate involuntarily skyrocketed at an uncomfortable speed as I repeatedly reread her heady confession, more or so to the fact that I hadn't expected her to flat-out admit it.

Her lust was surely present.

But something else was as well...

And I couldn't quite shake the raw confliction this 'something else' had my fluttering heart feeling...

If she's missing me...then that means she's only missing my body...right? Or...maybe...she misses more than that...like...she misses...

I sunk my teeth sharply in my bottom lip to prevent myself from finishing that absurd delusion.

Damn.

She almost had me going.

You're being played with, Seulgi.

It's your body she misses, nothing more.

Nothing more.

I told myself this in reassurance and yet the elated sensation swelling unwantedly inside my chest continued to steer my train of thought down a dangerous route.

Thankfully, I resurfaced in time to receive another text alert from Irene, which I assumed to be a cry of impatience.

So...are you coming over?

-IB

I quickly keyed in my reply, forcing on a satisfied smirk despite the fact that my heart was only three I miss you's away from self-combusting.

Over to your place?

-xxx

Her answer held not an ounce of mercy on my weak soul for the unhinged desire outlining her words was so sensually intense; I couldn't keep from softly groaning in satisfaction.

God yes...I really fucking want to see those sexy faces you made the last time I had you pinned into my mattress...

-IB

Before I was even spared a chance to freaking breathe, another text was sent rapid fire.

Hurry up and get your hot ass over here. I'm horny as fuck.

-IB

I don't know what the hell got into her—but I'd be a damn fool if I allowed a clear opportunity to slip wastefully through my fingers.

Mouth still agape, I responded as stably as I could manage.

On my way.

-xxx

I sprang up from my belly-flopped position on my bed and hastily fled over to my dresser.

Any other time I would have just rolled with my sloppy weekend bum gear of a baggy tee and holey sweatpants. But somehow, I ended up slipping into a low-cut V-neck and hip-hugging black leggings instead.

For the hell of it.

To be more specific, for me.

Yeah.

Strictly for myself and not because I felt like I had to for her.

Definitely not for Irene.

I mean—it's not like I'm trying to impress her or anything.

That would be ridiculous.

As if I give two shits about her personal opinion on my appearance.

I don't.

So...

...Why was it that I suddenly found myself tousling my hair wildly about in the mirror for a sexier style? Or actively scaling my bust size from head to toe like some self-conscious preteen?

Why was I thinking such asinine bullshit while doing so?

Would she like it if I had my hair thrown over my left shoulder...or my right?

Should I wear a more revealing top...?

What if I put on some lipgloss?

Would that drive her crazy?

What flavor would she lik—

Holy fuck.

When did I get so disgusting?

I eagerly ripped myself away from my reflection, fighting off any lingering superficial thoughts tooth and nail.

To hell with what she thinks of me.

It didn't fucking matter what I looked like.

It's what she wants to do to me that matters.

It's the only thing I care about.

After rolling on a coat of deodorant, I power-walked my way through the small kitchen vicinity leading into the living room. Midway, I spotted my mother's ragged frame hunched at the small tabletop with her left hand resting weakly against her forehead.

The plan was to discreetly lurk past her unnoticed.

For some reason, I stopped.

She was drabbed in her usual frayed work attire, which was severely crinkled and freshly stained with multiple unknown substances. The overpowering stench of bleach hung thickly in the air strung along with a coffee brew that steamed from the ceramic mug resting beside her boney elbow.

A disgusted grimace shaped my expression.

What a pathetic woman she's become.

My mother, the maid.

It sickened me.

There was a time when my naivety led me to believe what she did had its own sense of pride.

Void of shame, I used to be proud of her.

Now that shame creeps up my throat bitterly like bile.

This is what she traded the life of a carefree housewife for?

—To birth a bastard like me and end up cleaning houses for a living?

Fucking pathetic.

It's what she gets.

Since I had been standing there staring at her for well over a minute, my mother eventually raised her head to allow her worn eyes to connect with my glowering ones.

"Seulgi, dear," She warmly greeted me, the corners of her mouth lifting to form a welcoming smile. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," I grumbled dully, attempting to charge straight for the front door but she roped me in further with her motherly charm.

"You're always in such a rush these days, it feels like years since we last spoke," She tiredly laughed. "Certainly you can spare your mother a few words of conversation, can't you?"

So she noticed.

I've been avoiding both her and Jaebum for the last few days like diseased animals.

The delicate way they both spoke to me really pissed me off.

That didn't keep them from overly seeking my attention.

Jaebum was oddly around a little too much, pushing back his return date to the states further and further right to the point where I was starting to question if he'd ever go back.

My mother basically encouraged it.

It was definitely weird...

But not my main concern.

Left with no other choice, I reluctantly snailed back into the tiny kitchen nook and hovered above the rickety old table where she sat.

"How do you feel, Love?" My mother asked brightly, the wrinkles usually faintly etched on her face lifting miraculously as if simply looking at me shaved a few years off her.

"I feel alright," I robotically replied without bothering to conceal my sheer misery for this simple interaction.

She waited a moment, expecting me to return the question.

When I didn't, a light sigh escaped her chapped lips, that same comforting smile still very much visible.

"I'm achy everywhere," She groaned in an incompatible mixture of pain and joy. "All that bending and lifting is finally taking its toll...my body just isn't what is used to be,"

I scoffed.

"Maybe you should get a real job then..."

I didn't really intend for her to hear.

But she did.

And her smile couldn't have gotten any brighter.

"Ah, but a real job requires one too many degrees' which I greatly lack," My mother blithely joked, lightly grazing her fingers along the roots of her wiry hair. "Besides, cleaning is all I know at this point. It would be quite strange to do something different so suddenly."

She acts like it's funny.

Has she no respect for herself at all?

You're pathetic, woman...

My mother noticed the revolted scowl configured on my face but this only increased her smile's warmth.

"You know, I remember a time when a little baby girl of mine used to always want to tag along with me for work," She reminisced happily with a gentle sigh, fiddling with the bulky handle of her coffee mug. "She was such a good helper too. I wonder what happened to her?"

"She grew up..." I mumbled, my nostrils flaring in embarrassment. "That was a long time ago anyway..."

The aged woman grinned at me knowingly.

"The way I remember it, you'd join me all the way up until you were at least fourteen, hardly that long ago,"

My eyes widened on spot.

What the hell?

Fourteen?

...What? I don't remember ever...I...

No—that can't be true.

It's a lie.

She's lying.

She has to be.

My confused bafflement almost seemed to amuse my mother.

"Yes, that's right. At the time, you used to worry a lot about my aches and pains. After school, you'd come to help me like the sweetheart you still are," She sighed nostalgically, a faraway look casting in her hazel eyes. "Gosh, I can't believe that was only two years ago...seems like it was just yesterday. I made the best money of my life back then working for the Park fam—" She cut off abruptly in midsentence.

The peculiarly haunting expression that waved through her fatigued features just then had her appearing about as flustered as a guilty rambling teenager slipping out a secret or two that she shouldn't have.

Her frozen state lasted merely a second for she was able to rebound her composure with a loud cough followed by a solid gulp from her coffee mug.

"S-So anyway, will you be home in time for dinner?" She asked skittishly, her previous radiant smile now transfixed into a nervous one.

Rather than question her drastic change in subject, I took it as a perfect breakaway escape.

"Probably not," I answered curtly then redirected myself to the living room.

"Try not to stay out too late, dear!" My mother concerningly bellowed behind me as I hellishly sped out of the apartment.

That.

That right there was the very reason why I avoided her and Jaebum so Goddamn hard.

The bizarre enthusiastic behavior, the phony smiles, the strange pauses in conversation, the constant hesitation—

I'm not fucking stupid.

Why am I suddenly so fragile to them?

"I made the best money of my life back then working for the Park fam —"

What was that?

Park what?

What was she speaking of?

Not knowing had my mind about as scattered as a complex jigsaw.

Are they really hiding something from me?

...Would they do that?

Fuck, it didn't matter.

It doesn't.

I had bigger things to pine over—like getting to Irene's place for example.

Yes, Irene.

That's right, Irene.

I'm going to see her.

Finally, I can touch her again.

It's all that matters.

Newly calm and collected, I directed my footsteps on course to Irene's house. I darted right down the path headed toward Horangi since it's the only way I remember getting there. The further I strayed from my slumish neighborhood, the tenser I became.

My excitement inflated with every step.

A building emotion.

This wasn't lust nor desire tremoring my heart.

I wasn't exactly okay with it.

What is wrong with me today?

My abnormal feelings must have fuddled my sense of direction for I soon found myself taking a sharp turn down a city alleyway that I knew wasn't right. I tried trekking back on path by cutting across another shallow alley, wasting about ten to fifteen minutes alone just to return to the main street.

By then, it was too late.

I was freaking lost.

Damnit.

I pulled out my cell to do what I dreaded.

What's your address again?

-xxx

She didn't keep me waiting.

Got lost, huh? Lol.

-IB

So, she ditched the horny harlot act just to be a smug asshole?

Figures.

I swallowed back my pride and replied earnestly, sidestepping on occasion so not to ram into any other pedestrians.

Just shut up and send it to me.

-xxx

Without any further teasing, Irene promptly sent me her address. Punching in the coordinates into my phone's GPS, I realized that I wasn't too far off course after all. The remaining walking distance estimated another seven minutes.

Guess what? I'm not lost so shove it.

-xxx

Not sure why I felt such a strong need to get all 'macho-man alpha' on her but her previous teases left me wallowing with such incompetence, I just had to prove myself otherwise.

I didn't quite...expect her reaction.

You're super adorable sometimes, you know that?

-IB

A surging sensation of pin needles trickled along my skin with my heart throbbing heavier than it probably would if she had decided to text me something a bit racier.

I didn't.

Fucking.

Like it.

Get it together, you.

Within less than a minute, I arrived at the polished stone walkway that chained to the Bae's property. The front Iron Gate had already been unlatched and pried open enough for me to just walk right in, which was...oddly convenient.

Irene technically was expecting me so it would make sense for her to at least unlock the bolt but for it to be pushed open wide and welcoming as this seemed...

...Suspicious.

That was only warning sign number one.

Number two fired its pressing alarm when the sight of a silver Porsche and a sleek black Mercedes sailed into view during my slow ascend up the lengthy driveway.

My instincts practically screamed to me that something just wasn't right but I ignore its caution and continued forward for the front entrance.

I dug my cell from my pocket again to notify Irene of my arrival.

At your front door.

-xxx

As I advanced a few paces ahead for the tinted glass doubled doors, my cell started crazily vibrating my palm.

What?! Shit! Get away!

-IB

Gee.

That's a pretty funny way of greeting someone you claimed to miss blind not too long ago.

I was halfway through texting a questioning reply when my cell buzzed with yet another urgent text from Irene.

Get away from the door! Hurry!

-IB

Confused? Undoubtedly.

Frustrated? Beyond the tolerable level.

However, once the muffled laughter and heavy footsteps began to noisily sound from behind the glass doors, I shoved all that shit aside and let my instincts take the wheel.

I immediately trotted around the side of the house right before the doors swung open. Properly concealed by a row of neatly trimmed hedges, I discreetly surfaced my head above in order to see who had emerged from the house.

I nearly puked.

A grinning shit-faced Seungyoon stalked out onto the front stoop decked in a crisp collared white button-down shirt and classic black slacks. His freshly clipped Boy Scout haircut sickeningly complimented his overall formal appearance. Standing next to him was a much taller, slightly balding middle-aged man linked by the arm to an attractive yet just as aged woman who was also fashionably wrapped in fancy attire.

The three faced towards the front door, politely chatting with yet another adult couple standing a few steps above them. I couldn't quite make out the distinct features but I was able to distinguish enough to determine the striking resemblance they bared with Irene.

Speaking of the devil, she too popped into view.

And there went my focus.

Irene ravishingly wore a strapless spring dress stitched in a colorful floral pattern that effectively enhanced the muted complexion of her porcelain skin. Her hair was pinned neatly in a tight bun, which left her stunning rosy-cheeked face on full display.

My knees quaked from her natural beauty...but not long enough to distract from the absolute audacity taking place before me.

Okay.

So.

Let me get my ducks the fuck in order.

Irene, she-wolf in church girl's clothing, ordered me over here horny as fuck; her words not mine; yet she's hosting some sort of weird family dinner with her dumbass, ass-puppet, ass of an ass boy bot?

That sneaky little...

I lividly watched as the two pairs of families happily engrossed themselves in a conversation too inaudible for me to make sense of. The further they lingered onto the driveway, the more I could see. The taller couple, assuming to be Seungyoon's parents, gradually headed towards the silver Porsche while Irene and Seungyoon appropriately said their goodbyes to each other with a platonic hug.

As the three drove off, Irene's parents briefly slipped back inside the house while Irene remained on the front steps.

Vibrant green eyes frantically scanned the perimeter of the large driveway in a desperate search until they locked onto me squatting by the hedges. She wildly gestured for me to sway further around the side of the house, waving her phone in her palm to signal that she'd text me.

My parents are about to leave. Keep walking until you reach the back patio. I'll meet you there.-IB

Obeying instructions, I darted back to the fenced-off backyard of her house. A huge elegant rosewood deck overlooking a widespread tarp-covered pool greeted me upon arrival. Without letting myself get too caught up in the extravagance of the yard, I stepped up on the spotless wood and walked toward the sliding glass door shielded by shutter blinds.

The first logical assumption that came to mind was that after she finished whatever the crap she needed to with her parents, Irene would soon appear at the back door to let me inside.

But she didn't.

Ten minutes chiseled by.

Still no Irene.

Impatience prodded my side.

She better not be fucking around with me again.

I'm so not in the mood for that shit.

Just as I whipped out my phone to rage text my frustrations, an enchanting voice caressed my eardrums.

"Seulgi?"

My head automatically turned to the scenery behind me hoping to find Irene standing there.

She wasn't.

Yet she kept talking.

"Seulgi, are you down there?"

Judging from the range of her voice, I suspected that it might have been projecting from somewhere above. However, from where I was standing, a sloping overhead roof blocked my view to the upper level of the house.

I leaped down from the deck and back peddled a few inches so that I could get a clearer perspective, careful not to accidentally trip into the tarp-covered pool.

That's when I saw Irene high above in a large window flamboyantly waving down at me to catch my attention.

"There you are," My green-eyed muse cooed to me sporting one of her captivating playful smirks. "I've been waiting for freaking ever,"

I stared up at her expressionlessly.

She stared back.

"Are you coming up or what?" She peevishly asked after a few more moments of blank stares were exchanged.

Oh.

I get it.

The backdoor must have already been unlocked.

Totally, that's it.

How silly of me.

I excitably raced back onto the deck to let myself in but as I gripped the sliding knob, it remained bolted firmly in place.

Now, I'm pissed.

I returned back to the grassed area in front of the deck to glare up at Irene. My eyes shifted acutely from her to the sliding doors then back up to her, silently implying that there was no way I could get inside the house without her assistance.

Yet she remained in the windowsill, vastly growing just as irritated and impatient as I was.

"Do you plan on standing there like a mouth-breathing idiot all night or are you going to come up here?" Irene agitatedly sniped.

"I can't get in the house if the fucking door is locked," I snapped.

She shrugged carelessly.

"So?"

Is this bitch for real?

"So, how the hell do you expect me to get up there if the door is loc—"

A fat coconut of realization clunked its weight right on my head just as those words began to leave my lips.

My eyes trailed from the sliding back door in the faraway distance then up to Irene towering above me in her bedroom window, chocolate locks once pinned in a bun now flowing lightly down past her shoulders.

Her devilish twist of a smile only confirmed her cruel intentions.

"You're joking," I hollowly spoke, my eyes sharp as knives ready to slash into the thick smugness of her condescending smirk.

"Not at all," She answered innocently. "Payback is a hell of a bitch, isn't it?"

And there it is again.

Her sadistic streak.

Payback.

Dear Lord.

She's more like me now than ever.

"For the last time, are you coming up, doofus?" Irene gleefully goaded me from above.

After sending another set of scathing glares her way, I headed back over to the rosewood deck and sought out for a platform wide enough to step on. I settled on using one of the plaid patio chairs nearest to the bricked wall to assist boosting me onto the deck's railing. From there, I placed my foot on the side of the house for traction then hoisted my body weight upward to the sloping rooftop.

Irene's pleased gaze ogled me the entire duration of my climb to her bedroom. Strained muscles and all, I steadily tiptoed my way to her window, keeping my steps nice and balanced in case I accidentally lost footing.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked her irritably as she helped drag me inside her room, her amused smirk still burning quarter-sized holes in the side of my face.

"Very much," She giggled, lightly tapping the tip of my nose with her index finger. "I like seeing you put in so much effort just to be close to me, it's cute."

My cheeks flared red-hot.

"Don't call me cute."

Bunnies are cute.

I am not a fucking bunny.

"Whatever you say," She chortled, the same finger she dabbed my nose with softly raking underneath my chin. "But you know it's true,"

Her spontaneously flirtatious behavior had my stomach spiraling in a dozen loopdy loops of God knows what.

Luckily, I withheld a poker face.

Remaining motionless in front of the window, I watched as Irene began scampering impulsively around her room in an attempt to tidy any petty messes that barely littered her white carpeting. Her shampoo's savory sweet scent whipped my senses silly each time she swung around my way.

It shaped me restless.

Again, not in the way I preferred.

Good God.

"What the hell was Seungyoon doing here?" I unexpectedly blurted out; mainly to avert myself from the fuzziness her honey touch previously infected me with.

"Oh yeah, about that," She sheepishly chuckled after tossing a few stray pieces of clothing inside her laundry basket. "He and I always have brunch together with our parents at least once a month. It's sort of become a routine tradition for us,"

My chest tightened in restive jealousy.

I ignored it.

"Why didn't you just warn me?"

At this, she paused in her movements and elevated her gaze up to mine, immobilizing my body instantaneously with those soft tints of green.

"I...wasn't really thinking when I called you over here like that..." She admitted in a hushed tone, our eyes now clamped in a compelling death lock of connection. "Guess I got a little too anxious to see you..."

God...the way she was looking at me...

I trembled.

Fortunately, contact was broken before we could allow ourselves to be devoured in the monstrous tension we unintentionally created.

"Anyway," Irene quickly veered back on topic, commencing with her random cleaning frenzy. "I took so long before because I had to see my parents off to their couple therapy session. My support is basically the only reason they bother showing up,"

The rancor pressuring her tone wasn't subtle.

"Why not just have me meet them? Would have saved you the trouble," I said jokingly, leaning myself against the window frame.

Irene looked all but amused.

"To be honest, that would have been a lot more trouble than it's worth," She solemnly stated, slogging over to her bed and slumping down tiredly on it. "My parents are extremely judgmental. Anyone I bring over for company gets hammered with unnecessary questions about their home life and aspiration goals, it's so stupid..."

Yikes.

Glad I evaded that disaster.

If they knew about the scandalous shit I did with their daughter and what she's become, as a result, I'm sure I'd be Joan of Arced at the stakes in a blink of an eye.

But I'm a wretch anyway.

Would have been a fitting end.

"The one thing I wished they'd do for me is to butt out of my personal life..." Irene continued, her eyes drilling into her carpeting.

"Well, what about your little Nancy boy?" I asked with dripping sarcasm. "I'm sure he met all their tedious requirements since you two have family fuck fests together every month."

She rolled her eyes with an amused smile tugging at her lips.

"I suppose it was rather easy for Seungyoon considering both his parents are lawyers and he's an athlete with an elite grade point average,"

Jesus, what a pop-tart.

"Lucky him," I grunted displeasingly.

"Yeah, luck would definitely be the appropriate word to describe our relationship," Irene laughed serenely. "My father despised the thought of me dating so when I brought Seungyoon over for the first time he was ready to wring his neck. Yet, when he met them it was like he knew all the right things to say, how to act, what to wear—he had their approval within a few weeks. They were thoroughly impressed."

I bet they were.

Seungyoon might as well have been the poster child for brown-nosing.

Wouldn't be surprised if her parents had bowel movement complications with his bloated head shoved so far up their asses.

"I can put on a good show but I refuse to kiss ass longer than a day, so I'd fail their test," I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest rebelliously. "But all your brainwashed drones must have passed just like your boy toy."

Her face contorted gravely.

"Not...all of them..."

Curiosity, once again getting the best of me, prompted me to stay silent for her to elaborate.

She started with a question.

"Remember when you tagged along with Wendy and I for our study session last time?"

I nodded, shifting my weight against the windowsill to a more comfortable position.

"Yeah, I remember,"

"...You now know that I snuck you in here since my parents don't know you...right?"

I nodded again.

"Well..." She paused, fidgety fingers thoughtlessly twirling around her hershey locks as her green-eyed gaze lolled around from wall to spotless wall. "...I kinda snuck Wendy in too."

My brows furrowed in puzzlement.

Wait, Wendy?

The big-mouthed blonde?

Really?

"But isn't she like your main groupie?" I asked with both amusement and intrigue.

"Doesn't matter to them how close we are..." She scoffed angrily. "They can't stand her,"

"Why?"

Irene's perturbed gaze took rest in her lap.

"They believe she's a bad influence..."

Wrong.

That was my job.

"But they only think that because she doesn't have a mother in her life," She added distraughtly. "And her father is..."

"...Is what?" I found myself asking her when she trailed off into silence.

Usually, I'm not one to gossip but I found it sort of fascinating how thin the ice of approval lies between different social classes.

My background is painted all types of dysfunctional.

Them rejecting me would make total sense.

So, what was it about Wendy that her parents look down on her?

I wanted to know.

"Her father suffers from alcoholism...my parents only found out by mistake. My mother would sometimes offer to drop Wendy off at her house when we were finished hanging out. Once, we found him completely trashed—he was so wasted he could barely even speak...Wendy was so embarrassed. Ever since, my parents became skeptical about me hanging around her, said she'd spread her poisonous home life onto me..." Irene fell quiet briefly before starting again. "I hate how they can look at her and see nothing but a motherless daughter of an alcoholic. It's like they don't expect her to amount to anything because of that...but they have no idea what she goes through..."

Something was clearly bothering her.

Her distorted melancholic expression broadened the fact.

And like before, at the café, I let her talk it out.

At her own pace.

"S-Sometimes...he gets really really drunk...like crazy drunk...and....and he takes it out on Wendy..." Helplessness and shame panned across her face in an unsettling manner the more she revealed. "...He just...flies into this blind drunken rage...and when he's like that it's almost like Wendy isn't even his daughter anymore...like...she's nothing more than an object for him to...to...for him to..."

She paused to swallow hard.

When she opened her mouth to start again, she failed.

I could tell she was struggling to properly finish her sentences from the leaden amount of discomfort rapidly filling her voice. For several moments, she attempted to speak yet continuously fumbled through her emotions.

"It's okay," I interjected after the seventh pause. "...You don't have to say it."

There was no need.

I got the message.

And it made my stomach churn.

Irene nodded her understanding then released a shaky sigh.

"W-Whenever that happens, I always have Wendy stay over with me..." She cleared her throat roughly between words, steadily pacing herself, as she should. "Of course, my parents were completely against this. They loathed the fact that she was over all the time and suspected that she might have just been using me... they didn't even listen when I tried to explain to them that that wasn't the case. But...I know they'd listen if they only knew....they'd understand and maybe even get her help...if only I told them..."

"Why didn't you?" My mouth dried from the very question.

"...I've wanted to so many times but Wendy begged me not to... despite what a terrible bastard he is; Wendy loves her father dearly...she often says he's all she has...but that just isn't true. She has me. She's always had me and if she'd just trust me enough to help I cou—" Her voice raised in pitch to the point where she was almost shouting her last sentence but she quickly reformed herself. "...For now, all I can do for her is be there. At night, I keep my window unlocked for her," She gestured over to where I lingered by the windowsill. "We don't talk about it at all...when she shows up I know it's just another one of those nights...I make room for her in my bed and we just sleep it over until morning...it's all I can do..."

Her eyes wandered around before inevitably connecting with mine once again.

"I didn't mean to get all morbid...or to share something so private either...something that I have no right to even say..."

"Then why say it?" The words flew from my mouth instinctively, a question I didn't even realize I wanted to know. "What gives me the right to know...?"

That's when she pensively rose to her feet, drawing in closer toward me as if her body had been magnetized.

"You seem to think that you're the only one who is capable of suffering...but that just isn't true...looking at Wendy, you'd never know just how fucked up her life really is, she hides it so damn well behind that smile..."

I wasn't sure exactly when we had gotten in breathing distance of each other.

But there she was.

Our breaths hitched the more she spoke.

"No one is immune to pain...we're all human...and no matter what, we try our best to overcome those struggles..."

I also wasn't sure when we started holding hands...

But we were.

She cradled my hand in her palm delicately as we gazed at each other.

My body numbed in an emotion I wished to reject—one that I have been rejecting this entire fucking time, it wasn't right.

None of this was right.

Hours beforehand, I craved her body.

Fuck, I've lusted for a week for her but was that even lust or....longing?

It's not right...

...This isn't what I wanted.

"No matter what it is that we keep buried within ourselves, as long as we know we aren't alone...we can heal..." She gently whispered to me, our fingers interlocking under her command since I couldn't find the strength to break away from her. "Sometimes it's hard to bring out...but with a little encouragement...maybe it'll get easier. Everyone needs someone to help them through..."

...So that's it.

That's what's happening.

She tricked me.

All along—from the zesty texts to the flirting—

This was her goal.

And I fell for it.

She fucking tricked me.

I retracted my hand swiftly from her warm palm.

"You didn't really call me over here to fuck, huh?"

Irene confidently stood her ground.

"Would you have come over if I were honest about it?" She asked in justification for her deception. "You didn't really expect me to let it go, did you?"

"I expect you to mind your own fucking business," I spat angrily, my entire body now trembling in fueling rage.

"I find it very disturbing how you can't remember your first sexual experience or the woman you were with at the time," She distressingly retorted. "It's messed up, Seulgi, can't you see that?"

"I told you I didn't want to talk about it."

"And I'm telling you, we have to."

"Like hell we do," I maneuvered my body around in a reeling motion, ready and willing to escape out from her window, to flee from her life, to be free from the searing pain power drilling into my chest every single time I tried to remember it all.

But Irene wasn't settling for that.

Not this time.

Her petite body rammed into mine, knocking me a good foot away from the window so that she could slam it shut and secure its sturdy latch.

"No, you're not running away again," She instated in an adrenaline-driven panic. "I won't let you,"

Neglecting her determination, I shot over to her bedroom door. But somehow she beat me there, pressing herself up hard against the paneled, wood hell-bent not letting me pass.

"Move the fuck out of my way," I growled with as much venom and malice I could muster.

She didn't even flinch.

"Never."

Fuck it.

Since she was no longer guarding the window, my feet already began moving in that direction, however, I was sent slightly off balance by a strong force pressing into my back.

"God, you're such a hypocrite," Irene snapped in vexation, hurdling me backward open palmed against my chest once I curled my body around to face her. "You despised how I was always running away but when things get too deep for you, you're the first to run out the damn door!"

The infuriated brunette mightily jostled me back with every word she slurred.

"You're such a hypocrite!"

Push.

"You hypocrite!"

Shove.

"Hypocrite!"

Like a withered twig in the dead of winter, my last nerve of sense snapped.

"Why the fuck does it even matter to you?!" I belted at her in blind fury, trapping her thin wrists in my grasp when they attempted to shove me backward once more. "I'm not your fucking friend or your stupid boyfriend, just some bitch you screw!" She tried to frantically wrestle from my grip but I only clenched tighter. "Tell me why Irene, why—"

"Because I fucking care about you!" She suddenly cried in unbridled emotion, jade eyes blurring with tears.

I immediately uncoiled my fingers from around her wrists, temporary paralysis seeding me rigidly to the floor.

Deafening silence overpowered the atmosphere.

Irene's face paled an ill shade of white, her teary gaze averting from mine in humility as she quickly wiped her face clean with back of her hand.

Neither of us spoke until the grueling tension forced us to.

"...Y-You should go."

Though it was stuttered, her words were clear.

Certain.

It didn't take much for me to comply with her gut-wrenching suggestion.

She is right.

I should leave.

I chanted this countlessly in my mind as I headed for her bedroom door to take my leave so I wouldn't forget.

My hand curled around the knob.

I turned it.

This is right.

I clicked the door open.

I should go.

I closed it behind me.

This is right.

My feet moved.

I'll leave.

My heart pulsed loudly in my ears.

I stood at the top of the stairwell.

This is...right...

I slowly inhaled.

I'm leaving.

Another step was taken.

This isn't right.

Then, I exhaled.

I shouldn't leave.

My heartbeat continued drumming its hyperactive tune.

She cares.

Somehow...I could hear her heartbeat too.

Go to her.

Maybe it was the relentless chanting that hurricaned me back up those stairs and the rippling confliction haunting my heart all fucking day that had me busting my way through her bedroom.

Regardless, I went to her, not the least bit surprised to see that she had moved from the place I left her.

She stood right there, stationary in front of the doorway, just breathing.

Our gazes infused.

To hell with it all.

To hell with holding back.

I can't anymore.

I struck.