“ENA…”
Coral Glasses leaned over the couch, giving the sleeping saleswoman a soft tap on the shoulder. ENA stirred with a quiet groan, her limbs sluggish as she blinked herself awake.
“…mnn…”
“I just got called in for a special Horse Door meeting. Things are moving faster than we thought. I’ve gotta head out…” Coral said, already grabbing her coat. “Can you keep an eye on the place for me?”
ENA slowly looked up at her, eyes still heavy with sleep. “Mmh…yes, of course…your home will be…immaculate,” she mumbled in her deeper register, voice foggy and slow. “You better give me a raise for this.” Her meanie side muttered, not loud enough for Coral to hear.
Coral smiled. “Thanks. I’ll be back later, alright?”
“...alright…” ENA yawned, curling up a little more into the couch cushions. “See you then…”
…She was all alone, now. But…that did not matter…
So sleepy…so….so sleepy…….
…
…ENA woke up on the floor, groggy and slightly disoriented. She must’ve rolled off the couch sometime during her nap.
…Coral still wasn’t back. It felt like hours had passed. Maybe the meeting was dragging on longer than expected.
Well, no use waiting around.
She figured now was as good a time as any to finally explore the apartment. She’d been crashing here for nearly a month but hadn’t really taken the opportunity to look around.
Naturally, she started with the kitchen…where all the mysterious food-preparing rituals took place.
Opening the fridge, she peered inside. Rows of containers, jars, and bottles greeted her: kimchi, a few side dishes, some soy sauce, a bowl of chocolates, scattered fruits, and a small stash of sweets.
Her stomach growled. Truth be told…she was a little hungry.
Without much thought, she reached for a banana and took a bite…without bothering to peel it first.
Closing the fridge door with a dull thunk, ENA wandered back into the living room. That brief snack adventure had passed the time, at least just a tiny sliver. Now she was back to standing in the middle of the apartment, unsure what to do next.
Her eyes drifted toward the bookshelf. A curious little display of colors and shapes, neatly stacked in rows. At first, she'd thought they were decorative tiles or maybe storage cases. But as she stepped closer, she realized…
“Hmm…”
They were books. Dozens of them.
She finished the rest of the fruit in three bites and raised a clawed hand, tracing her fingers along the spines as if waiting for one to speak to her. The glossy textures, the embossed titles, the occasional glittering cover… It felt like browsing a shelf of secrets.
One book caught her eye. Then another. And another.
She gently pulled a few from the shelf, angling their covers toward the light.
ENA tilted her head akin to a puppy. All of them had hearts on the covers. Or roses. Or characters embracing dramatically beneath starry skies.
“…These are about love,” she mumbled, her voice low with interest. “Romantic love.”
She flipped open the first book, eyes scanning over a passage with heavy dialogue and even heavier emotion.
“He reached for her hand, trembling. ‘Even after our farewell, I will be your love forever.’”
ENA blinked. Slowly, she set the book aside, picked up the next one, and flipped through a random chapter.
“She made him breakfast, her heart pounding as she placed the eggs just the way he liked them. He smiled, and her knees almost gave out.”
Another blink.
Then, a pause.
Then, quietly, ENA stood up, clutching the three books to her chest.
“…I see.”
She glanced toward the kitchen. Then the hallway. Then the front door.
“...I should prepare breakfast!” she declared to herself, realization in her voice. “And smile when I hand it to her. That’s what they do in love.”
She nodded, resolved.
A plan was forming. Romance required action. Gesture. Timing.
When Coral came home…she’d show her. All of it. Just like in the books.
The door clicked open softly as Coral stepped inside, letting it shut behind her with a dull clunk. She slipped off her shoes with practiced ease, dragging her fingers through her hair, half-tired and half-thinking about what she’d make for dinner.
“ENA?” she called out casually, expecting some half-sleepy murmur or odd reply.
Silence.
She walked further in and spotted her on the couch.
ENA sat cross-legged, surrounded by stacks of books from Coral’s shelf, neatly arranged like she was cataloguing them. Her head was tilted, eyes scanning a page with intense focus. One book lay open in her lap, another was tucked under her arm, and several were laid out across the cushions and floor.
Coral blinked. She discovered books. “...Huh.”
She padded over, peering at the covers. The roses, characters holding themselves wistfully, the cheesy names…
Romance novels. All of them.
“Didn’t think you’d be into those,” Coral remarked lightly, walking around the couch and plopping onto the other side.
ENA didn’t look up right away. She was mouthing something under her breath. Then she stopped, rewound a few lines with her eyes, and tried again. When she finally glanced up, it was with that peculiar glimmer of fascination she got when she found something new to study.
“Oh. Coral. I have discovered many behavioral protocols. It is quite the fascinating stuff. I'm afraid I haven't had time to make you breakfast, though! My sincerest apologies.”
“You know I don't eat breakfast in the morning, ENA.” Coral chuckled softly. “What's this about protocols?”
“Yes. These books are dense with examples of verbal and physical cues exchanged between emotionally entangled humans. I’ve identified recurring themes of flowers, forehead contact, and spontaneous declarations of devotion in public places.”
“Uh-huh.” Coral picked up one of the books and flipped through a few pages lazily. “That one’s got a weird subplot about a horse that becomes a metaphor. Just so you know.”
ENA nodded, eyes back on her own book. “I will take that into account.”
Coral leaned back on the couch with a yawn. “Well, as long as you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I am.” ENA said plainly, completely absorbed. “Did you know that holding hands can be used as emotional punctuation?”
Coral gave a half-laugh through her nose. “I think I’ve heard that somewhere.”
She let her eyes drift shut for a moment, relaxing into the cushions.
ENA continued reading quietly beside her, diligently taking mental notes like this was a textbook on behavior. Coral didn’t think too hard about it; ENA always had strange fixations. Sometimes it was bugs. Sometimes it was cereal box mascots. If this week’s obsession happened to be romance novels, that was fine too.
At least she looked content...
Coral had just finished chopping some scallions when she peeked over her shoulder again. ENA was still perched on the floor by the bookshelf, surrounded by a growing pile of paperbacks. Her face was lit by the warm lamp nearby, eyes darting back and forth across the pages like she was studying for a test that could change her life.
“ENA,” Coral called over the simmering pan, “I’m making dinner. You should put the books down for a minute.”
ENA didn’t respond. Her entire expression was focused, one clawed finger sliding under each line as if her life would end if she closed that book.
“ENA.”
“Mm?” she finally mumbled, eyes still fixed to a chapter titled 'Ten Confessions That Changed Everything.'
“Dinner’s ready. Come on, before the rice hardens and I turn to dust.”
ENA finally blinked, slowly closing the book with exaggerated reverence and gently placing it on top of the stack. “Understood. I will consume food with you.”
“Great,” Coral muttered, setting plates down on the small dining table. “We love mutual sustenance.”
They ate in relative quiet. Coral talked a bit about her meeting at Horse Door and how the deadlines were moving, and ENA nodded thoughtfully, occasionally mumbling something about “emotional bandwidth” or “narrative pacing”, most of which Coral simply assumed to be ENA being her usual weirdo self.
After dinner, Coral did the dishes while ENA read another two chapters. Eventually, Coral leaned into the living room doorway, towel in hand.
“Okay, bedtime. Lights out in fifteen, alright? We got work tomorrow.”
ENA blinked up from her book, voice soft. “Do…couples usually go to bed at the same time?”
Coral, without missing a beat, replied, “Yeah, sometimes. Depends if they have work in the morning. And if one of them snores.”
She yawned. “Anyway, let’s not start the snoring discourse again. Come on.”
ENA closed her book slowly, tucking it under one arm. She followed Coral to the bedroom they’d both gradually gotten used to sharing over the last month, each curling up under their respective sides of the blanket.
The room dimmed as Coral turned the light off.
“Goodnight, ENA.”
“...Goodnight, Coral.”
Under her breath, ENA added, “Sleep well, beloved.” But Coral was already snoring softly.
ENA turned over, facing Coral in the dark. She tucked her hands under her head and whispered into the silence:
“Tomorrow, I will try chapter eight.”
Another day of work done…
After clocking off, Coral tossed her jacket onto the couch and sighed, the sound of the door clicking shut behind her marking the end of yet another long day.
“I’m gonna shower.” she mumbled, already halfway down the hall, too tired to care about anything except hot water and not being perceived. “I need one. I really do.”
“Mmhm,” came ENA’s automatic reply—but Coral didn’t hear the purposeful gleam behind it.
Because ENA had been planning.
All day, she'd mentally reviewed passages from the books, especially the one trope that had lingered in her mind like a virus:
The Rain Kiss.
A quintessential moment of vulnerability. A soaked confession. A desperate embrace, unaware of the world around them. Water is symbolic cleansing; the kiss, symbolic union.
Ah, but alas…There hadn’t been any rain lately, which was deeply inconvenient. But ENA was not one to be deterred by mere meteorology.
The shower would have to do.
As soon as Coral disappeared into her room, ENA tiptoed into the bathroom and, with quiet determination, turned on the shower. She stepped in fully clothed; overalls and shorts and all, and let the warm water pour over her until her hair stuck to her face and her shirt clung to her skin. For a final surprise effect, she concealed herself behind the shower curtain.
She was ready.
Moments later, Coral, towel draped over her arm, opened the bathroom door, and began undressing while humming a song. She stepped into the shower, looking down and not even noticing ENA.
…but as soon as she looked up…
“EEK!!!” Coral squealed, hiding her privates with her hands. “ENA!!” she gasped.
ENA turned dramatically in the mist and steam, blinking water out of her eyes. “Coral,” she said softly, her voice trembling with artificial sincerity. “You came…”
“What—why are you in the shower with your clothes on?!”
“The rain kiss,” ENA stated. “Page 67. I initiate the moment. You walk in. Our gazes meet. And then…”
Coral stared, mouth slightly open. She was too shocked to even laugh or think of any of this lightheartedly.
“You’re soaking wet!” she managed.
“It’s for realism,” ENA insisted, slowly stepping out of the shower like she was in a movie montage. Water dripped from her sleeves. “You see, you’re supposed to yell at me at first, then I cut you off with a kiss. It’s part of the tension.”
“Oh my god,” Coral whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying not to grimace. “Did you…did you seriously stage an entire trope moment while I was gone?”
“I read several chapters. I bookmarked the most effective ones.” She held up a sopping wet page of notes, the ink already bleeding.
“ENA—”
“I have already planned our next scene as well,” ENA continued confidently. “It takes place in a library, with lingering eye contact over a shared book about pengui—”
Coral finally cut her off. “Okay, okay! Stop before you ruin every romantic comedy I’ve ever owned! AND MY SHOWER !!!”
“I am simply applying what I’ve learned.” ENA tilted her head. “Did I not interpret the prompt correctly?”
Coral sighed and stepped forward, gently taking the ruined book out of her hand, and shook her head with her eyes closed. “You’re soaked. Come on, get out of those clothes before you short out.”
“Do we kiss first, or—?”
“No! No kissing while you’re dripping all over the bathmat!”
ENA pouted, but let herself be guided out of the bathroom. “I still believe the moment had potential…”
Coral chuckled, grabbing a towel to toss over ENA’s head. “Next time, let’s talk about the moment before you try to script it, okay?”
“Fine…” ENA said, muffled under the towel. “But you have to admit it was at least a little romantic.”
Coral paused.
“…Yeah. It kinda was, I guess.”
Coral shut the bathroom door gently behind her, twisting the lock with a quiet click. Steam still hung in the air from ENA’s theatrical shower stunt, and the faint smell of chocolate milk clung to the dampness.
She let the water run for a few seconds before stepping in.
Warm droplets pattered against her skin, soothing her tired shoulders, but her mind wasn’t relaxing…rather the opposite.
What the hell was that?
ENA standing fully clothed in the shower, spouting about rain-kisses and tension, trying to recreate a romance novel scene line for line…
Coral exhaled sharply, brushing water from her face.
It wasn’t the weirdest thing ENA had done. Not even close. But this had felt different. More…deliberate.
The slight shift of warm water turning suddenly cold and then back to warm made her gasp quietly, while she let the water run down her spine.
Ever since ENA found those books, she'd been fixated. Memorizing lines. Rehearsing gestures. Referring to everything like it was a story arc. At first, Coral had thought it was harmless, just ENA being curious, maybe even sweet in her own glitchy way.
But now…?
Is this how she thinks love works?
Coral frowned.
Does she really want to kiss me under the rain, or does she just want to follow the script?
Because if this wasn’t real… if ENA was just mimicking something she read, trying to feel something she didn’t understand… that could get messy. For both of them.
“Maybe I should talk to her,” Coral muttered, fingers dragging through her hair. “Before this escalates…”
What if ENA thought this was the only way to express affection?
What if she was doing all this just to perform closeness, instead of feeling it?
It was like her Salesperson persona got overwritten by this obsession with fiction. She wasn't making sales pitches, instead she was making references to books.
She had to nip this in the bud.
Coral turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around herself, still chewing the thought over.
Meanwhile, outside the bathroom…ENA sat cross-legged on the floor, completely dry now and flipping rapidly through another of Coral’s romance novels. Her eyes darted across the pages like scanners.
“Ohhh yes,” she whispered with an eager grin. “Jealousy scene. Page 112. Longing gaze. Passive-aggressive small talk. Repressed feelings. Perfect.”
She held the book up to her face, giggling.
“We’ll need two mugs, some sharp banter, and…I must locate a third-party decoy character. Hm. Maybe that intern from the 4th floor…he does have decent cheekbones…”
ENA’s cheeks glitched pink for a moment as she imagined it: Coral seeing her laughing with someone else, feeling that pang of romantic jealousy, and then …
a confession scene.
“By tomorrow night, we will reach the ‘it was always you’ climax,” she said proudly, clapping the book shut.
The bathroom door creaked.
ENA shot to her feet.
“Coral!” she chirped, practically vibrating with excitement. “I have our next scene ready!”
Coral blinked at her, towel still wrapped around her head. “ENA, we need to—”
But ENA was already flipping to her bookmarked page.
“There will be longing. And confusion. And maybe a slight altercation in the kitchen, but with emotion! I’ve got the lines rehearsed. All we need is props, and—”
“ENA.”
She stopped mid-sentence. Her smile faltered. “...Yes, Coral…?”
Coral looked at her, eyes soft and a little tired. “Can we…talk first?”
…
ENA blinked, claws clutching the open novel like it was a sacred script. “...Talk?” she echoed, her voice tilting upward like she’d forgotten the meaning of the word. “We can…talk during the scene, if you want! There’s a dialogue beat, I can improvise-”
Coral gently stepped closer, barefoot on the floor, towel still wrapped around her shoulders. “ENA.” she said again, softer this time. “Not as characters. Just us.”
The way ENA’s head tilted, it was like her thoughts had to recalibrate. She blinked, realization struck on her face. “Oh,” she muttered. “You’re not…playing right now.”
“No.” Coral offered a small smile. “I just wanna talk to you. Not the you from page 34.”
ENA’s gaze lowered to the book. “But I thought you liked this story…” she said quietly, running her claw along the spine. “You own so many of them. All the love, the drama, the…confessions. They’re very compelling.”
“I do like them,” Coral admitted, taking a seat on the couch, patting the spot next to her. “But I read them because they’re stories. Not guides.”
ENA hesitated before sitting, her movements more careful now, like she wasn’t sure what she was allowed to be.
“I just…” She hugged the book to her chest. “I didn’t want to get it wrong.”
Coral looked at her, heart softening. “Get what wrong?”
“You.” ENA’s voice cracked; subtle but audible. “Us. If we are an us. I thought maybe if I did the things people do in books, it would make everything…feel how it’s supposed to.”
There was a long pause. Coral looked down, her thumb idly tracing the seam of the towel.
“You don’t need to rehearse feelings with me,” she said gently. “I’d rather have the real you. Glitchy pauses, weird logic, over-explaining metaphors and all.”
“But…what if the real me doesn’t do love right?”
Coral laughed a little; kind, not mocking. “Honestly, I think most of us are winging it.”
ENA looked at her, expression somewhere between stunned and hopeful. “So…you’re not mad?”
“No.” Coral replied, voice quiet but firm. “But I do want you to be real with me. Not a reenactment. Not a checklist.”
The book in ENA’s hands trembled with them, a corner page digitally curling up as if melting under her warming fingers. Slowly, she closed it and set it aside.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Then…can we figure it out together?”
Coral smiled.
“Yeah,” she said. “We can.”
She reached out, not suddenly, but slowly. ENA didn’t move at first. But as Coral’s arms gently wrapped around her, ENA melted in a way that no storybook had ever described. Not dramatic, not staged, just…warm.
They sat like that for a long moment, ENA tucked against her chest. Coral stroked her hair, lovingly smoothing over her fringe, even when her hand passed through a slight visual flicker. It didn’t matter. It never did.
“This is what it’s like?” ENA murmured. “To…just sit together?”
“Sometimes.” Coral whispered. “No big speeches. No grand gestures. Just this. Just…you and me. Together.”
ENA let out a long breath, one that sounded almost like static fading.
Then, with a tremble that betrayed how new this was to her, ENA tilted her head. “So when do you…ever kiss people…in real relationships?”
Coral’s face softened, and she leaned in close, brushing her nose lightly against ENA’s. “Only when they ask nicely.”
ENA blinked. Her eyes went static a few times. “Would it be appropriate to request a…romantic facial press?”
Coral laughed softly. “A kiss, ENA. You can just say ‘kiss.’”
ENA fumbled with the word for a second. “...Would you kiss me, Coral?”
Coral didn’t answer right away. She just leaned in and gave ENA the gentlest kiss she could; soft, still, warm. When she pulled back, ENA’s cheeks were glowing faintly.
Her smile, real, glitchless, formed on her polygonal face. “This…feels nicer than the books.”
“Heh, what'd I tell you?” Coral murmured, wrapping her arms around her again. “Real always beats fiction.”
They curled up together, quiet and close in this tender moment. No storylines to follow, no lines to memorize, just the soft silence of two people learning how to love.