Wendy Oneshot

WELCOME HOME

From: sominbiased
Pairing: Seulgi/ Wendy
Genre: fluff, confessions, warnings for slight mentions of ED but no unhealthy mindsets

“Loneliness, I began to realise, was a populated place: a city in itself” – Olivia Laing

When Wendy finally makes it out of the plane, the cool, crisp air hits her in the face and she takes a deep breath. For a second, she almost misses the snow.

It snows in Seoul too, soft fluffy flakes lightly dusting the ground, but there’s something fundamentally different about the same weather in another city; some sort of metaphor about how places had personalities that seemed to bleed into the climate. In Vancouver, it would snow relentlessly during the coldest nights, thick heavy sheets that blanketed everything and made it impossible to push the door open when she was a little kid. It was the kind of cold that chased you, seeped into the cracks of the buildings, made you wear socks even to bed and turn up the heating. It was the kind of weather that demanded attention, that required every conversation to start with the words wow its really freezing today isn’t it?

She’s always had a funny relationship with snow. Back in Canada it had been the biggest nuisance when she was a kid, forcing her to bundle up in layer after layer that eventually made her feel hot and suffocated, struggling to wade through mountains of the sparkling white power with her tiny frame that never seemed to grow taller.  Mostly, though, Wendy used to hate how the snow blanketed everything around her and cut her off from the rest of the outside world in their old family home. Sometimes during early mornings when everyone else was fast asleep, she used to peer out of the windows with her hands pressed to the cold glass, watching the flakes swirl around outside with an aching sense of loneliness that was too big and too strong for someone so young.

Now in Seoul, she couldn’t cut herself off from the world if she tried. The air in Seoul buzzes with friction, cars honking endlessly, the subway making endless loops, businessmen running frantically in the mornings and children heading off to their hogwans late into the night. Even the houses seem to get smaller and more cramped every time she returns even if that’s not actually possible, the thin walls leaving everyone inevitably eavesdropping on each other. In Seoul there is no feeling of infinity, of Wendy being swallowed whole by her feelings. Instead there’s only the relentless drive to push herself further to the breaking point, the intense pressure that can only come when everyone around you seems to be working harder than you.

( It’s not perfect but when you’ve felt it long enough, loneliness could be comforting. There could be some real, genuine satisfaction in that mass anonymity, in a place were you were known for nothing but your work. Wendy will take it, she thinks, as she unlocks the front door of her dorm, ready for to be confronted by a freezing cold apartment  covered in dust and a todo list that will be miles long. It’s what she left home for. )

When she unlocks her door and walks into her dorm  though, the heating has already been turned up and the curtains are drawn, muffling the sounds of traffic outside. The dorm is usually cramped, but now even more so thanks to all the cardboard boxes littered on the furniture and floor, as well as a bunch of grocery bags thrown on the table instead of stocked in the fridge. The shower isn’t running, but the bathroom door has been left open and the room smells like the fruity scent of shampoo.

“Hey” says Seulgi.

Wendy squints, trying to adjust to darkness and can just about make out a lump of blankets she assumes is her roommate and fellow student Kang Seulgi.

(And girlfriend, if months and months of Seulgi flirting with her and Wendy misreading the signs and then one kiss and confession just before winter vacation qualifies as dating. Wendy isn’t sure how to have that conversation yet)