Seems like I'm rather pumped about this, huh? Thanks for the reviews! I did not expect that many. As for the question about Teresa and Irene being together, I'd like to be evil and leave it alone. But right now, they are not dating.
I hope this chapter is up to standard!
Bounce to you, bounce to you, my heart is beating so fast for you
To the point it can't be caught;
Attracted to you and is beating so fast that I can't get you
Break it down to you, down to you, if my heart
Can't get you it's gonna stop (Look at me)
- Bonamana, Super Junior
Chapter 2: Dancing Around Each Other
It was only a phone number. A short, simple string of digits strung together to help you contact someone quickly. It was neutral. But somehow it managed to make her feel as happy as, or maybe happier than when she won the championships last year. Except, well, it was not really the same victory-high euphoria she experienced. It was more like the drunken, giddy feeling she had while the medal was being put around her neck. The feeling that she had finally accomplished something. But this was also different, different from the competition-induced excitement. This was more… emotional? Soft? Sighing softly,Irene shook her head as she stepped out of the store, a plastic bag of snacks in one hand and a Magnum Gold in the other, with a bite already taken out of it. Trying to put a label on what she was feeling is like trying to run from one point to another. While on a treadmill. It would get her nowhere. What matters is that she already got the number. What she did next was more important.
She pondered over it, taking another bite out of her ice cream while suppressing the smile that clawed furiously to get onto her face. It would not do for her to be seen walking around the campus smiling like a fool to herself. She chewed on the chocolate in her mouth and swallowed it. I should get closer to her first. Irene decided. It would be weird for someone, a stranger whom you caught peeking at you through a window, to ask you out in such a short time. Better to let things flow first, before deciding on a course of action. But of course, avoiding a permanent place in the friend-zone is also important. She reminded herself. Irene had already sent a message to Flora, shortly after she left. 'Hi. Irene here. So now you have my number.' She had stared at the message for awhile, wondering if it was too terse or short. But she did not know what else to type in, so she just left the message as it was and sent it. Over thinking did not help, most of the time.
The silver-haired student reached the study room and went in, bracing herself against the inevitable questioning she was about to face.
'Why did you take so long?' Teresa opened her mouth first.
'You have a competition in two weeks, Irene. You're really out of shape.' Sophia supplied.
Noel, like before, kept quiet, but only because she had her head on her folded arms, sleeping.
'Shut up.' Irene retorted. 'I was about to treat you all to the food, but I guess not.'
'Watch out, everyone. We got a badass over here.' Teresa held up her hands up mockingly before snatching over the bag her friend placed on the table.
Irene rolled her eyes, then settled down in her seat, depositing her wallet into her bag. She pulled out her phone, intending to put it on the desk, but a new message caught her eye.
Flora – So now I do. Haha.
Irene stared at it for awhile, and typed in a reply. 'Aren't you a lucky one? How's your hand doing?' She sent it, and set the phone on the table. But before Irene could get engaged with her notes again, another message came.
'It's barely been an hour since I punched that jerk, Irene. Of course it still hurts.'
'Of course. Take care of yourself. The bandage is waterproof, by the way. So you can bathe with it.'
Irene made to set the phone on the desk again, and noticed Teresa's eyes on her.
'What?'
'You're smiling. At your phone.' Teresa fixed her with a suspicious gaze.
Irene blinked, unaware of her facial expression, then pressed her lips together. She frowned at Teresa.
'So? Is a person not entitled to smile?'
Teresa smiled sweetly at her. 'Of course she is. But it is not typical of you, Irene, to smile at a message on your phone.' She turned her eyes on Irene's gadget. 'May I ask who is it?' Irene kept her face straight. This woman is sharp, Irene reminded herself, and it seems like she was starting to put what scant few pieces of information she had together.
'Yes, you may. It's Leo.' Irene lied smoothly, using the name of the Taekwondo Club's vice-president, whose carefree personality would help reinforce the credibility of her lie. 'Would you like to hear the joke?'
'Oh? "Hear" the joke? I'd much rather read it.' Teresa smiled slyly.
'Huh. I thought you couldn't read.' Irene countered.
Noel gave a big yawn behind them. 'You two need to stop fighting like an old married couple.' She took the bag of chips from Sophia's table and ripped the top open. 'Coz you know, the more you act like something the more likely you'll become it.' She munched on a chip. 'And the thought of you two getting together is freaky.'
'Yeah.' Sophia agreed. 'And you'll probably kill each other in your sleep.' She grinned.
'I don't believe the two of you have the right to lecture us about "fighting like an old married couple."' Teresa shot back. 'Am I right, Number Three and, or, Four?'
Irene couldn't help the smirk from forming. Noel and Sophia had tied each other for 3rd place in the overall academic performance for their level last year, with Teresa coming in first and Irene second. Ever since then, the two, who already bickered on a daily basis, started to quibble even more, fighting to decide who was better than whom. No conclusion yet. Probably will never even have one, Irene mused, give them ten years and they'll still quarrel.
Her phone vibrated again, drawing her out of her inner musings.
'Ok. Thanks again. See you soon.'
And there it was. A conversation ender. Irene gave a mental sigh as she bit off another chunk of ice cream, reducing the treat's size to half of the original. Oh well. At least there'll be more opportunities in future.
-Wind Flower-
Irene switched off the hair dryer and slotted it back into its stand beside the dressing table. She examined herself in the mirror as she ran her hands through her silky hair, using her fingers as a makeshift comb, pulling out the knots and letting her hair fall naturally down. If there was anything Irene was vain about, it was her hair. Its uncommon colour was something she inherited from her father. Though it looked white at first glance, there was a shiny quality to it that helped to bring out its silver sheen. Irene loved it. She loved the way each strand flowed through her fingers. She toyed with her fringe, which she kept tucked behind her ears most of the time. Irene used to have an actual, shorter fringe that swept downward from right to left, so that fell just above her eyes, the longer sides of it framing her face. But then she decided that she looked too immature with it and was tired of continuously pushing her hair out of her eyes, so she grew it long and hid it behind her ears. Irene thought it made her look more professional and reliable. Once she was satisfied, the elven woman rose out of the seat, her hands tucking her fringe behind her ears again, and she made her way over to her computer to turn it on. She remained standing, her hands still running through her silver strands, waiting for the computer to power up. Then a thought formed. Irene hesitated for second, before she walked out of her room, and into the "hobby room", as her mother lovingly called it.
The hobby room was odd, Irene admitted as she looked over the place. The space was divided to two. On one side was Irene's mother's music space, where she kept her instruments and practiced in when at home. The dark teak upright piano was against the wall, and not far from it was the cello sitting in its stand, wrapped in a transparent plastic wrap to prevent dust from accumulating on it. There was also a violin and a Chinese guzheng. Her mother learnt how to play the Oriental instrument because she took a liking to it, thus leading to its addition into her collection. Guests who saw it usually found it strange. But what they found stranger, was the assembly of martial arts gear that was arranged opposite the musical collection. This was Irene's half of the room, her training area at home. A punching bag was hung at one side. Near it was a training dummy, or her "anger management toy" if by chance she came home pissed off. There was also a stand to help her hold up her smaller kicking targets, and beside it on the floor were her two sets of sparring guards. This martial arts area stood in direct contrast to the musical side, but Irene appreciated the arrangement. It reminded her that no matter how different martial arts and music were, they were still "arts" at the end of the day. They were just "soft" and "hard" arts. But not many people saw it like she did, did they? Irene smiled to herself, shaking her head lightly as she made her way over to the piano.
She sat down, and lifted the cover to reveal the keys. She ran a finger over the keys, and was satisfied to find it rather clean. When her mother was away, Irene helped to take care of her parent's equipment. This used to be her father's duty, until he passed away when she was 15. He was on a flight to Russia for business, but an engine malfunction caused the pilot to lose control of the plane and it crashed. 48 lives were lost in that crash, and her father was one of them. Irene sighed and pulled herself back from memories of her mother and her 15-year-old self weeping over his casket. It was six years ago, and she had moved on along with her mother. Irene reached up and picked a scorebook randomly from a stack resting on top of the piano. She flipped it until she found a piece she liked and placed it in front of her. Slowly, she reacquainted herself with the piano, familiarizing herself with the flow that her mother had taught her when she was younger. Just like that, she started playing piece after piece, finding soothing calm in the music she played out…
…Until she remembered she had left her computer on.
-Wind Flower-
'Stop callin', stop callin', I don't wanna think anymore. I left my head and my heart on the dance floor. Stop callin', stop callin', I don't wanna talk anymore…'
Irene stirred in her bed, a faint crease in her brows as she reached for the ringing phone on her nightstand. She had changed the ringtone again, this time to Lady Gaga's Telephone because she thought it was funny to have your ringtone say "stop calling". But right now it did not amuse her as much as it did when she was awake. It grated on her sleepy nerves. Irene patted around her nightstand until she found her phone, then accepted the call, placing the phone to her ear.
'Hello.' The word was mumbled incoherently out of her mouth.
'Oh. Oh sorry, dear. I forgot that it's early morning for you over there.' It was her mom. 'Were you sleeping?'
By now part of Irene's brain was conscious, and it was the sarcasm portion, apparently. 'No, mom… I'm dancing in the shower right now…' Her words came out slightly drawled.
'Well, well, well. Look what we have here. A smartypants.'
'Why did you call?' Irene kept her eyes shut.
'My performance in France was cancelled last minute. So I'll be home sometime next week.'
'Mmm…'
'Do you have class tomorrow?'
'Mmm…'
'Tsk. What time is it?'
Irene fished for the information in her head. 'Uh… 1.30.'
'Oh. What time is it now?'
The sleepy woman mimicked her mother's 'tsk' and turned her head, cracking an eye open to look at the clock on the bedside table. '3.30.'
'Ah. Well then. I shall let you sleep now. Will call you tomorrow night. I love you, Irene. My beautiful, sarcastic piece of work.'
'Love you too, mom.' Irene mumbled, listening to her mother end the call before letting her hand slide back down onto the bed, not bothering to place the phone back on the nightstand. A decision she regretted immediately the next morning when she found it lying on the floor next to the bed.
-Wind Flower-
Irene shouted, closing in on her opponent and swinging her leg in an arc to land a head hit. Leo's eyes widened, the woman's speed catching him off guard, but he managed to backpedal last minute to avoid the flying foot. The captain did not even give him time to recover. She moved in for the kill, spinning around as soon as she was close enough, and delivered a back thrust against Leo's chest. With his balance already off, the addition of Irene's sole pushing against his chest threw off his center of gravity even more and made him fly backwards. His arms flung out to try and break his fall, and he landed on his behind. The other club members watching the casual match burst out in laughter. Even their coach was smiling.
'Damn, Leo! You got owned again! Hahaha!'
'Nice technique, man! What do you call that? The Sprawling Starfish?'
'Oi, I want a replay! Leo, get your ass up so Irene can kick it again!'
'Irene, I know you like girls, but I think you should consider taking Leo as a husband. He's gonna be one helluva hen-pecked husband for you!' Another wave of laughter rippled through the dojang, and it was infectious. Irene grinned as she took her head guard off, watching as Leo did the same, except that he threw that protective equipment at the offending person.
'Shut up, Gavin!' Leo scrambled over to his friend and trapped him in a head lock, a wide playful smile on his face. 'You can have a bout with our Lightning Queen, then!' He pointed a thumb at Irene, who was taking off her body guard.
'Nah, it's okay man. She's taken off her gear already, anyway.'
'She doesn't need any gear to wipe your ass all over the floor, bud!' Leo gave him a rough noogie.
Irene shook her head in amusement, as she proceeded to pack her guards into her pack. As she was putting on her shoes, her coach came over.
'Good job, Irene.' He wore a proud, satisfied smile. 'I think you're going to sweep the competition like last year.'
'Thank you, sir. But I think I'm going to continue being humble until after it's over.' She replied, and received a pat on the shoulder.
'Well, I'm not going to boost your ego either. Just keep training and-,'
Irene's phone rang. She excused herself and stepped further away from the coach and the merry group in the training hall. It was Flora. Irene's heart started beating a little faster as she wondered what brought this call on. She put the phone to her ear.
'Hello?'
'Hello, Irene?' Flora's gentle voice came over the phone, causing a small squeeze in her chest. 'Am I interrupting your training or anything?'
'No. We just ended.' Irene replied, just as she remembered Flora's injured hand. Concern immediately washed over her. 'Is anything wrong? Is your hand okay?'
'No, no! My hand is fine. I'm at Keiton Mall right now, and there's a group of Taekwondo people performing on the stage, the one in the middle of the mall. They're from Hansen University. You're having a competition soon, right? I thought this might interest you.'
'Really?' It did interest her, in fact. Hansen was the second overall runner-up in last year's competition. The first runner-up was Westville. 'I see. Should be interesting. I'll be there in awhile. Thanks, Flora.'
'No problem. Hope I helped.'
'You did, Flora.' The "Lightning Queen" caught herself smiling unconsciously. I really need to stop doing that… 'Oh, and… um,'
'Yes?'
'Will you still be there later?' Irene asked tentatively, she did not even know where she was going with this.
'I guess so.' Came the reply. 'I've just arrived here.'
'That means I can meet you there, right?' Her tongue seemed to work by itself.
'Oh, yes, of course.' There was curiosity in her voice, which became a little softer.
'Okay, then. I'm on my way. Thanks again. Bye.'
'Bye.'
Irene put the phone away, then quickly addressed the people in the dojang.
'Hey, people.' She drew their attention to herself. 'Hansen's club is having a demonstration at Keiton Mall right now. Anyone wants to take a look with me?'
'Ooh. Spying now, are we?' Leo grinned. 'I'm in!' The rest of the competition team also voiced their assent.
'Good, now hurry up. We don't want to miss the show.' There was a chorus of "Yes, boss!" as Irene made her way for the door, while the rest of the club, along with their coach, got ready for their mini trip. She stepped outside the training hall and, taking a deep breath of fresh air, got reminded that she was going to the mall without taking a shower. And she would most probably be looking for Flora there as well. Irene dug into her pack for her deodorant, and sprayed it. As she stowed the can back into her bag, Deneve stepped out of the training hall. Deneve was a Year 1, who showed quite a lot of potential in the arena. Her attacks were clean, fast and calculated. Like Irene, her face was an impassive mask during a fight. Some were already saying that she would take over Irene's position as president, or Leo's as vice-prez, when the seniors stepped down.
'Hey.' Deneve said. She was not a conversationalist normally. But she had trained with Irene most of the time for the past few months. So they were rather familiar with each other. 'So how did you know Hansen was demonstrating?'
'A friend of mine is there right now, so she called me.'
'I see.' It was all Deneve managed to say before the loud group of athletes burst out of the dojang, on the way to a small invasion of Keiton Mall.
-Wind Flower-
As the Claymore students neared the center of the mall, the sound of fast-paced pop music reached their ears. There was a large crowd gathered around the stage, with cameras in their hands, taking photos and videos of the performance in front of them. Hansen's athletes were demonstrating various kicks, with lots of acrobatics thrown in to make the show entertaining for the audience. Irene watched as a female student ran and, stepping on the hands of her comrades, leaped into the air and kicked the wooden board held high up by two other guys, one standing on the shoulders of the other. As the wood split into two, the crowd cheered. Irene smirked to herself. The tricks, though commonly performed by Taekwondo groups everywhere, were more difficult than one thought, and it served to show one's skill level. But this was just a demonstration. It did not have the pressure of winning, the threat of an opponent, or the tension that was always present in the arena. Schools used demonstrations just as a means to help their athletes overcome stage fright. Claymore's club had done the same thing last year, and it was a rather effective ego-booster, having a large crowd cheer and stare in awe as you executed a move you had learnt through hard work.
The demonstration continued, but Irene's attention on the stage was gone. She searched the crowd for the blonde who called her just now, but there were just too many bodies blocking her view. Even with her height, she could not catch sight of the one she was looking for. Irene caught Leo giving her an inquisitive look, perhaps wondering why the president was not focusing on the stage but directing her eyes everywhere else. She gave him a mild glare and forced her eyes back onto the demonstration. She would look for Flora later. Or is she not here anymore? The uncertain thought entered her mind, but she pushed it away. The girl had told her she would be here. So she will be here. No need to think so much.
At last, the performance finished. The demonstrators all went up on stage, and bowed in unison to the crowd, then raised their hands to accept the applause from the audience. Then the large congregation of people slowly dispersed.
'Well, then! Shall we have dinner together?' Leo turned to ask the rest of them. There were both 'yes' and 'no' in reply. Irene kept quiet, looking for the blonde again.
'Irene? What about you?' The vice-president inquired.
'Hm? I…' Irene's eyes continue to search her surroundings, and finally landed on familiar blonde locks. Her heart skipped. 'I don't think so.' She turned to give Leo, who was trying to act cute by pouting, an apologetic look followed by an eye-roll. 'Stop that.'
'Oh fine. Bye then, you party-pooper.' He gave an exaggerated sigh and waved his hand, like a king dismissing his subject.
The captain rolled her eyes heavenwards yet again, before waving them goodbye and making her way towards the gentle girl. As she approached, Flora noticed her and smiled.
'Hi.' Irene started, unable to think of what else to say.
'Hi…' Flora replied, but then she looked over the senior's shoulder. 'Oh, Deneve… I forgot you were in the club too.' Irene turned to find Deneve walking towards them.
'Flora.' Deneve inclined her head in greeting. 'So you were the one who told Irene?'
'Yes. I hope it did not waste your time…' Flora looked uncertainly between the two martial artists.
'No, it did not.' Irene assured her. 'It gives us ideas for our upcoming demonstration.' Deneve nodded in agreement. Flora smiled yet again. She has such a beautiful smile, Irene thought to herself, eyes not leaving the junior's face.
'How did the two of you know each other?' The brown-haired junior asked, a faint crease appearing between her brows. 'Was it through Clare?' She looked at her president, who blinked. Clare was Teresa's so-called protégé in the school's Gymnastics club, and the girl had taken to following her senior around when she had free time in school. Irene had wondered why the black-haired woman had not already chased, or intimidated, the girl away. She had attracted many admirers since high school, both guys and girls who either wanted to get a girlfriend or just get laid. But Teresa had rejected each and every one of them, telling them she simply was not interested in getting attached. She did not want to get "tied down" by a relationship, the gorgeous woman had told Irene airily, and added that she felt annoyed at people following her around. Irene just shrugged, telling her friend that she was sparing herself from unnecessary heartache anyway. But Clare was not a romantic attachment, was she? Irene decided that it was just Teresa's motherly instincts coming into play with the girl, after coming across her friend patting the junior's head affectionately one day.
Irene remembered Clare hanging out around the school with Jean, and vaguely recalled the pair playing basketball with Deneve and her two other friends, whose name escaped her at the moment. Was Flora Clare's friend?
Flora, seeing that her senior was not about to answer yet, replied first. 'No, actually we met by accident.' She glanced quickly at Irene, who was slowly returning her attention back onto the conversation. 'I think we… clicked.' Flora looked questioningly at Irene, who gave a small smile in return.
Deneve quirked an eyebrow slightly, examining both girls, though her eyes stayed on Irene a little longer. 'I see.' The silver-haired woman felt as if Deneve was catching on a little, and kept her face neutral.
'Aren't you eating dinner with your club?' The blonde pointed at the retreating backs of the Taekwondo club, looking inquiringly at both the athletes.
'No.' Deneve replied, looking down at her watch. 'I'm meeting Miria at Helen's house. Helen's cooking.' Flora smiled more widely at the mention of Helen.
'Helen loves food, doesn't she?' The blonde sounded amused. Deneve shook her head resignedly.
'Yes, she does. And at the rate she's feeding me and Miria, we're going to get fat, one day.' Deneve made to leave. 'Well, it was nice seeing you. Bye.' The short-haired woman turned, and left the remaining two alone.
'What about you?' Flora turned to face Irene.
'Were you about to eat here?' Irene answered the question with another. The blonde nodded. 'Would you mind if I ate with you?' As the last word left her mouth, Irene's blood ran a little faster than usual.
Flora stared at her for awhile, looking a little surprised, but she recovered quickly. 'No.' The junior gave another smile. Irene swore that her heart just skipped a beat. 'Where would you like to eat? I haven't really decided where to go yet.'
'Oh…' Irene ran mentally through the various shops that she remembered were this mall, then remembered something, looking quickly up at the fourth floor. 'I think there's a new pasta place that just opened. It's on the fourth floor.'
'Okay, then. Let's go.'
Fifteen minutes later, they were shown into the casual restaurant to their seats. The waitress handed them the menu, and went through the customary introductions of the soup of the day, chef's choice pick, etc, then left them to look through the selection of food. They went through their menus in silence, before Irene waved a waiter over and they placed their orders. When they were left alone again, Irene attempted to start a conversation so that they were not just sitting awkwardly and looking at each other. They were still unfamiliar after all, having just met.
'So, were you here alone? No one to accompany you or anything?' Irene asked.
'Hm? No. I just came here for a quick dinner. Then I saw the Hansen demonstration and called you.' Flora gave a small shrug.
'I see. Your parents are not at home?' Irene tossed the question over innocently, but she regretted it. Flora seemed to stiffen a little. The senior examined her more closely, and realized that the blonde looked mildly tired. Her eyes lacked the same clarity that they had when the two just met at the music room. Did I say something wrong? Irene thought uncomfortably as she saw Flora shift a little.
'No. I live alone.'
'Oh. You moved out?'
Flora tilted her head. 'I moved here to Sutare to study. My parents are in France.'
'You're French?' Irene lifted a brow.
'Half.' Flora corrected. 'My father's French, my mother's Korean.' A hint of amusement entered her eyes. 'I don't look like it, huh?'
'Actually, you do look like it. People with mixed blood are usually more good-looking than average.' The indirect compliment slipped past her lips, but Irene did not make any attempt to change the position she had put herself in. This advance on the girl could give a hint on whether she was… open, or interested. Although she hoped that she had not stepped across the line. Her pulse quickened, but her anxiety was driven away by the blonde's next words.
'So you are mixed too, then?' Flora said it with a shy smile, before her gaze dropped and her hand started playing with her fork. Irene blinked, caught a little off guard by the response, but she let a smile spread across her face at the sight of the blush tingeing the younger's cheeks. Her heart lifted greatly, but she noted her pulse did not calm down. Instead did just the opposite. The senior looked down at Flora's fidgeting hand and squashed a sudden impulse to lay her hand over it.
'No. Both my parents are Sutarean. But,' Irene went through her family tree in her mind. 'my maternal grandmother was Japanese. So I guess I'm a one-quarter mix.'
'I see.' Flora lifted her gaze to meet Irene's, but before she could say anything the waiter brought over their soups.
'Thank you.' The waiter smiled at them and left.
As Flora brought a spoonful of soup into her mouth, Irene asked her another question, hoping fervently for a positive answer to this one. 'So… are you moving back to France after you finish your studies?'
A weird look came over the beautiful girl's face. She swallowed the broth, placing the spoon back into the soup bowl and stirring it. 'I'm applying for citizenship here.' She looked up at Irene's curious gaze, then dropped back to the soup bowl. 'I… don't want to go back to France.' Flora pressed her lips together.
Irene decided to change the topic of conversation. She was obviously treading on dangerous waters. 'What course are you taking?
'Music. That's my major.' Flora replied, looking slightly relieved at the change in direction. 'I'm taking fashion design as a minor.'
'Hm?' Irene tilted her head. 'You're interested in design?'
'Well…' Flora started slowly. 'If all else fails… if I don't want to pursue music anymore, then I want a safety net, you know?' She connected her gaze with Irene's. 'What about you?'
'I'm majoring in business, with a minor in English literature.' The silver-haired woman lifted a brow at the blonde's amused expression. 'What?'
'You have the business look… But I can't imagine you writing poems. You look more like a money-making cutthroat.' Flora said with a smile.
'Ouch.' But Irene reciprocated her interest's smile. But their moment was interrupted by the arrival of their food, and the ringing of Flora's phone. When the waitress moved away, Irene saw the blonde's face cloud over as she looked at the ringing device.
'Excuse me.' Flora slid out of her chair and walked out of the restaurant. Irene watched her back as it left the restaurant, concerned at her change in demeanour.
After awhile, as Irene was depositing a forkful of linguine into her mouth, Flora returned, her face looking sombre, even though she tried to hide it.
'Are you all right?' Irene probed a little. Her concern was not alleviated by the other's nod and tight smile, but she tried to start a new conversation.
'So, where do you live?' And with that, they went through dinner with mild conversation, though Irene remained conscious of Flora's slightly withdrawn attitude. After dinner, Irene, on the pretense of making a house call to one of her friends, rode on the same bus as Flora until the girl alighted. Then she got off the bus on the next stop and made her way home. As she inserted the key into the lock of her door, her phone rang. Irene pushed the door open as she placed the phone against her ear, not bothering to check who was calling.
'Hello?' Irene closed the door behind her and locked it.
'Hello, sweetheart. I hope you're not sleeping this time?'
'No, mom. I just came home.' Irene slipped off her shoes and moved towards her room.
'Good, so I can talk to you more. I'm going to be back next Thursday, and I should be home longer this time round…'
-Wind Flower-
Irene controlled her breathing, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail; stray silver strands were matted on the sides of her face with perspiration. Her headphones transmitted music directly into her ears, connected to the iPhone strapped to her bicep. Her calves were burning with the effort of running the extra distance she forced herself to go today. Irene wiped away beads of perspiration from her eyes with the back of her hand, focusing on her destination for today. Just a bit more, Irene egged herself on, and she picked up her speed, pushing herself the last few metres to her designated end point. The athlete finally reached it in a few minutes, hands holding onto the railings for support as tried to catch her breath and stretched her leg muscles. She turned her face skyward, straightening her body to get as much oxygen into her lungs as possible.
It was Friday night; one of Irene's designated days for her runs. She looked out over the vista from her vantage point. From the railing she stood behind, there was a slope of rocks which went downwards before touching the sea. Irene closed her eyes, letting the cool sea breeze caress her face. She loved night runs. Running without the sun bearing down on her with its heat is so much more comfortable, and it spared her from a tan she did not want to get. There were also not many people in the park at this time, and she was not afraid of any attacks. She was, after all, trained. The lithe woman stretched her back, music still playing through her headphones, and bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. Irene felt proud of herself for achieving a longer running distance this time. It would certainly help with her stamina in the sparring competition.
She smiled to herself, enjoying the view of the sea before walking up a nearby slope to a higher point of the park. The slope, though it had been a popular road for people to climb, became less popular ever since the park was expanded, with the addition of new exercise installments and a playground. That suited Irene just fine. It gave her the privacy she cherished. The slope led to a small secluded, peaceful area that was perfect for her when she felt keyed up after a day's activities. Sometimes, Irene just went there to practice her Taekwondo forms in the open and well-ventilated place.
As she reached the small clearing, she saw that one of the two benches was occupied. It was occupied by a blonde, who had wavy locks that looked terribly familiar, and a large golden retriever by her side. Irene stepped quietly around the perimeter, eyes searching for the familiar face, trying to determine if the blonde was the one she knew. It is her, Irene decided, as she took in the delicate form, even though the blonde's head was bowed. The dog's head was resting on its owner's knees, its ears flat on its head. Irene watched as the canine reached up and gave the girl's face a light lick, who scratched its head in return without looking.
Irene smiled, confirming that it was Flora. She made a step in the girl's direction, but stopped cold.
Tiny droplets dripped from her covered eyes.
May I ask if the chapter length is too long? Should I trim it down or seperate them into different chapters?
Anyway, the usual. Please review, criticise, comment, anything.
