#newboldtrue

With a sigh, Irene then continued, spreading the pages across the table. “Right. So, admittedly, it’s not that simple. The security of this building is the top-of-the-top, and the stakes if we get caught--well, they’re higher than I’d like to have to mention.”

“And you want to go nonlethal,” Wendy added.

“And you don’t want to leave a single trace,” Yeri pitched in.

“And you don’t know if this information is up-to-date,” Joy said.

“And you seem to think we’re capable of actually working together without a hitch,” Seulgi threw in, brow raised.

Irene’s lips quirked up in a small smile.

Wendy closed her eyes as the women in the car made conversation--from amplitude modulated radio signals to the latest flick. If she thought hard enough, she could almost pretend nothing was out of the ordinary--as if her fake death had never been thwarted by the woman in the passenger seat, her friendship with Seulgi intact, her evenings accompanied by light hearted conversation.

Wendy opened her eyes, watching the trees whiz by. There was no time for thoughts of what could have been.

Seulgi let out a laugh, sniffling slightly. “Sounds like we went through a rough breakup.” “If breakups involved guns and getaway vehicles and two other women,” Wendy laughed, wiping under her eyes quickly. “Speaking of which… Your driving,” Wendy stated, question dangling in the air. “You’ve done this before.” Seulgi scrunched her face a little, suddenly becoming a small child being reprimanded for stealing cookies after dark.

"Are all of your associates female?" Wendy interjected.

Joy gave something that was partially a pleasant smile and partially an insufferable smirk. "Do you happen to take issue with women, Seungwan?"

"First of all, don't call me that." Wendy clamped her mouth shut for a moment. She wasn't quite sure what her second point was supposed to be.

it's "all's well that ends well," but they're not sure it had really gone well in the first place.

the thrill of the chase is—well, sometimes that's all there is.

Two women, a car, a gun, and three state’s worth of police authority hot on their heels. It would have been easier if feelings weren’t so messy.

A Thelma & Louise AU.

Irene says, “Thanks for not thinking I’m a serial killer. I guess.” “Thanks for letting me throw up the worst New Year’s Eve of my life in your apartment,” Room 53 returns, and Irene cracks a tiny smile at that.

or,

Irene doesn't know her upstairs neighbor, really, but it's 5am and she won't stop ringing the doorbell; 3rd from the bottom prompt from this post.