An anxious sigh escaped Taeyeon’s nostrils as she stared out the window. The events of the previous night had had an unnerving effect on her. Her mind remained doubtful, wondering if her agreeing with Mr. Hwang’s new proposal had been the right thing to do. It had been an impulsive decision, she knewㅡthat bothered her more than the situation itself. Her impulses never resulted in anything good.

She glanced down, eyeing the pack of cigarettes and the small box of matches on the nightstand. She reached out, but stopped before her hand could touch either of the objects. This isn’t good for your health. Especially before breakfast, she heard Tiffany’s voice echo in her mind. She inhaled sharply, retreating her hand. The cigarettes remained on the nightstand.

There came a gentle, demure knocking on the door before Taeyeon could have had time to think about anything else, or develop her thoughts any further. She turned around, slipped into the silk dressing gown that lay on a lonely armchair in the corner of the room and, as she brought the ends of the garment together over and across her chest to cover the exposed skin, she walked towards the sound. Welcomed by the nicest of sights as she opened the door, she smiled.

“I had a feeling I would find you here.”

Taeyeon’s eyes scanned Tiffany rapidly. The raven-black tresses fell loosely on Tiffany’s shoulders, which were poorly covered by the sheer fabric of her own dressing gown, through which Taeyeon could faintly see the straps of Tiffany’s nightgown. Taeyeon didn’t dare to look further down, afraid her indiscretion could be noticed, but she could tell by their height difference that Tiffany was probably in her slippers. She wanted to grin at the thought, finding it adorable how she girl could be noticeably shorter than her when she wasn’t clicking her heels around the house, but she didn’t. Instead, she just quit studying Tiffany’s appearance, and beckoned the girl inside. “Come in,” she said. Tiffany followed the command, stepping a bit hesitantly inside the bedroom. Taeyeon kept a safe and decent distant from the younger as she took a few steps further into the room.

“How did you know I would be here?” Taeyeon asked, hugging her arms. “By the time you wake up, I’m always downstairs already.”

Tiffany turned around to face Taeyeon. She eyed the woman for a moment, but quickly diverted her gaze. “It’s Sunday. Father is home. I premised you wouldn’t want to have breakfast with him.”

Taeyeon nodded a little, looking away. She sat down by the edge of the bed in silence, yet again incapable of responding to Tiffany.

“Listen,” Tiffany said as she glided across the room, towards Taeyeon, “I promise I will no longer inquire about any of this. About you and my father. I’ll simply let it go. I will. I can’t say I understand, I’m just as puzzled as I’ve ever been, but I...”

The blonde lifted her gaze with a quizzical look as Tiffany trailed off. “Yes?”

Tiffany took a quiet deep breath. “I just want you to be okay. And I can’t guarantee that if I keep dragging you into an uncomfortable position by insisting on this subject.”

Taeyeon eased. Her countenance was tender, thankful, and her lips nearly curled into another smile.

“I’ll retain my curiosity. If you ever decide to enlighten me regarding… well, this matter, you can just come to me.”

“I’m glad,” Taeyeon responded, nodding. “Thank you.”

“But under one condition,” Tiffany added, rather bluntly.

Taeyeon’s eyebrows shot up. “Which is?”

Tiffany frowned and looked down for a moment before she glanced back at Taeyeon. “Well, give me a chance,” she said. Her tone became demanding and imposing, although it still did carry its natural gentleness and warmth. “Stop retreating when I try to reach out for you. You do that quite often, you know.” She paused, and her tone softened again as she continued, “It’s hard to make acquaintances with you, Taeyeon. Regardless, I’ve been trying to, but my attempts have been fruitless. Sometimes I think you simply do not enjoy my company at all.”

“No,” Taeyeon readily said, unwilling to let Tiffany further that thought. “No, you’re wrong. I do enjoy your company. Very much so,” she added sincerely as she got up and walked calmly towards Tiffany, beaming softly at her. She thought she had seen a joyful sparkle in Tiffany’s eyes when the brunette looked up at her.

“Then… do try? Try to open up a bit.” She turned her body around, making it face Taeyeon’s, and took a step further closer to the woman. She locked her gaze with the blonde’s and, toning her voice down, she continued, “I see how guarded you are. I don’t want you to demolish this wall you’ve built around yourself. I want you to allow me through it.”

Taeyeon fell silent. Instead of responding verbally, she brought her hand up and landed her palm on Tiffany’s cheek, cradling it so softly and lightly Tiffany thought she had been touched by a feather. An unconscious, tender smile formed on Taeyeon’s lips, the best smile she had for Tiffany, one she had been keeping for a while now. Her fingertips grazed the girl’s pale skin as she withdrew her hand. “I’ll try.”

“Well,” Tiffany said, finally breaking into a relieved smile. “Well, that is a start.” She nodded, exhaling heavily. “Now would you like to accompany me downstairs for breakfast? I’m starving. You must be hungry as well.”

Taeyeon nodded too, chuckling faintly. “All right. Let me change and I’ll be down in a jiffy.”

“Oh, you needn’t to. Just...” She reached her arms out and, bending forward a little, began to brush Taeyeon’s blonde locks backwards, running her fingertips carefully through the strands. Once she was done, she took hold of Taeyeon’s blonde tresses, twirled them together gently, and placed the whole of the hair over the woman’s right shoulder. “There,” she said, showing a satisfied smile. “That’s better.”

The way Tiffany’s fingertips accidentally brushed softly against her neck as the girl played with her hair had been enough to send tingles and goosebumps down Taeyeon’s entire body and then freeze it in place. Moonstruck, she eyed Tiffany silently, unable to find an appropriate verbal or physical response to the girl’s actions. It was one of those moments when Taeyeon didn’t know if she should be grateful or frustrated that her reason hindered her from her worst impulses, such as the urge she felt to pull Tiffany in, held the girl in her arms, and kiss her lips in that very momentㅡeven though she did feel her self control wearing thinner and thinner as the days passed.

Naturally, it didn’t take long for Tiffany to notice Taeyeon’s watchful eyesㅡnot when they were burning through her own. Slowly, her smile faded, albeit not from sadness. Her fingertips slowly brushed away from Taeyeon’s golden tresses, and her breath was caught in the moment she took notice of the way the blonde’s eyes slowly traveled down towards her lips, and lingered there for a few seconds. And Tiffany thought Taeyeon’s breath had become a bit heavy, but she knew better.

Thankfully, Taeyeon came to her senses before the situation could possibly aggravate.

“You’re right,” the woman suddenly said as she averted her gaze, startling Tiffany a little. “I am hungry. Shall we go?”

***

Downstairs, in the dining room, Anthony Hwang ate quietly in his solitude. His eyes merely flinched when he heard Tiffany and Taeyeon’s faint steps approaching the room. He only became aware of their presence once the two women had walked inside the place, and Mrs. Winters had popped in out of nowhere, as though she had sensed she had other people to care for.

Anthony’s hand quivered, slipping a few drops of his coffee on the table as Mrs. Winters bid Taeyeon and Tiffany a loud welcome.

“Why, good morning, children!” she said happily. “I thought we wouldn’t see you for breakfast today.”

Tiffany walked up to the old woman, smiling. “Good morning, Nana,” she said, then placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Good morning, Mrs. Winters.” Taeyeon’s voice rang and dispersed softly in the room. She looked across the set table, then back again at Mrs. Winters, who was then smiling. “Lovely breakfast.”

The old woman chuckled. “Well, I do try my best.” Mrs. Winters was in charge of all the meals in their entirety during Sundays. It was the staff’s day off. Luckily, the woman was a great cook, and she didn’t mind having the house do without some cleaning for a day. “You seem to be in a good mood today, Mrs.,” she remarked.

Anthony watched quietly, eyeing the three women over his newspaper.

Taeyeon smiled shyly. “You could say so. And just Taeyeon, please.”

“Right. Oh, miss Taeyeon, before I forget!” the woman exclaimed, taking an envelope from her apron’s pocket. “This arrived for you yesterday night. I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver it to you sooner. I hope it isn’t too late.”

Taeyeon thanked the woman and took the envelope in her hand. She smiled when she saw the sender’s name. “Why, it’s from Irene.”

“Your friend?” Tiffany asked, eyeing the envelope, then took a sip of coffee.

Taeyeon nodded and tore the envelope apart. “I wonder why she didn’t call instead,” she thought out loud, mumbling absently. She took the paper out and read its content quickly, which wasn’t very long. “She’s got a modeling test today! She sent the address,” she said, full of excitement.

“I didn’t know she wanted to be a model,” Tiffany remarked, interested.

“She does. Oh, poor thing, she’s been trying to find a job as a model for years.” Taeyeon folded the paper again and tossed it back into the envelope. “Does Charlie work today? I need to go meet her. She wants me to be there with her.”

“He doesn’t,” Hwang chimed in. He wanted to make himself noticed. Taeyeon and Tiffany grew quiet and serious in the same instant.

It took a few instants until Taeyeon could muster up the courage to speak again. “Well, is the car available, at least?”

“Yes,” he said. “But what difference does it make?”

Taeyeon tried her best not to shoot lasers through her eyes towards the man. She took one last sip of her coffee and got up, ready to excuse herself from the room and bearing an austere posture she herself wasn’t quite aware she had whenever she confronted Anthony in any way. “I can drive,” she said simply.

Hwang quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, looking at the man’s face, then towards Mrs. Winters as she bowed her head, “I have to go. The audition is in two hours.” She then eyed Tiffany, who looked both curiously and expectantly at her. Taeyeon grinned. “Would you like to come along?”

Tiffany’s face brightened up and, smiling, she jolted up from her seat, following eagerly behind as the blonde walked out of the room.

Anthony watched quietly and, furrowing his whitening, albeit dark eyebrows, spoke only when the two women had disappeared entirely from view. “When did they become friends?”

“Tiffany and Mrs. Hwang?” Mrs. Winters questioned as she poured more coffee into Anthony’s empty cup. “Why,” she said, chuckling, “for a while now, I suppose. I’ve seen them together plenty of times. They have even went out together, one of these days.”

Anthony looked up at the woman. “Went out together?” he repeated. His voice sounded more severe and disturbed than he wished it to. “I thought Tiffany hated Taeyeon.”

Mrs. Winters shrugged. “So did I. But it seems like they’ve come together on their own, after all. Who would’ve thought?” she said, chuckling. “I remember the day you brought miss Taeyeon home. I was afraid I would have to stop Tiffany from trying to murder the poor thing.”

Anthony didn’t respond. He took the cup in his hands and quaffed half of the warm liquid absently. She wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on Tiffany. She can’t possibly have the nerve to confront me like that, he thought.

A few minutes later, two pairs of high heels could be heard coming hastily down the staircase. The car engine soon started, with Taeyeon in the driver’s seat and Tiffany beside her. Soon the two were gone. Anthony remained seated quietly by the tableㅡa lukewarm coffee and a preoccupied mind as his only companions.

***

Irene had failed the test. Crestfallen, she came out of the studio quietly, fighting back the frustrated tears that she wanted to shed. Taeyeon and Tiffany followed behind.

“Oh, Irene, please don’t be like that,” Taeyeon said, laying her hands on Irene’s shoulders from behind, positioning herself beside her friend. “There will be another opportunities.”

“Forget it,” Irene said curtly. “This must be the tenth test I fail. I should just give up.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Keep trying,” Taeyeon encouraged her. “You won’t get anywhere with that mindset.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps I’m not talented enough? There must be a reason I’ve been turned down so many times. All the times,” Irene retorted.

“Hey, Irene,” Tiffany approached. She hadn’t spoken much thus far. Irene didn’t seem bothered by her presence when Taeyeon arrived with her, but regardless, the two hadn’t grown well acquainted yet. “Don’t lose heart,” the girl said, offering Irene a kind smile. “You know, I think I can help you.”

“How?”

Tiffany pursed her lips, taking a moment to think. “Well, you see, my uncle, father’s older brother, is a photographer. He lives in Los Angeles, is currently working for a very famous magazine there, and knows a lot of important people. I could ask him to photograph you, show some of his contacts your pictures. I’m sure you’ll find something.”

Irene’s face brightened, her eyes sparkled, and she nearly broke into a smile. “Would you do that for me? Would you really?” she asked, holding Tiffany’s hand.

“Why, of course,” Tiffany responded, smiling as she nodded. “But, first… oh, Irene, you will forgive me, but we’ll have to work on your shyness.”

Irene chuckled happily and pulled Tiffany into a warm, but quick embrace. “Thank you so much! I’ll improve, you see,” she said as she stepped back.

“It’s all settled, then. I do hope you don’t mind waiting for a couple of months, though. My uncle is coming to New York with his wife and my cousin in June. We can arrange the sitting then.”

“No, not at all,” Irene said, beaming. “I’m grateful. I really am. Thank you, Tiffany.”

As she watched quietly, Taeyeon couldn’t help but smiling at the sight of the two most important people of her life interacting so warmly with each other: the friend that had been her only family for years, and the person she had been falling in love with so helplessly and so quickly.

***

“Oh!” Tiffany yelped, jerking backwards in fright. She laid her hand on her chest, exhaling heavily. “Goodness grief!”

“It’s just a rainstorm, Tiff,” the Anthony said, making his way to his bedroom as he distractedly fixed the time on his wristwatch. He let out a yawn. “No need to be scared.”

“I-I know,” Tiffany stammered. She gulped, still eyeing from the window the heavy raindrops falling out as violent lightnings shone in the sky. “I’m not scared,” she stated, finally looking at her father.

“Good, good.” Another yawn. “Goodnight, sweetie. Sleep well. Don’t stay there watching it,” he said, gesturing at the window. Tiffany nodded, and he beamed tiredly as he closed the door behind his back.

Tiffany turned around again, returning her attention to the rainstorm. It seemed the thunders had quieted, at least a little. All there was left were the the hasty, heavy rain and a few faint lightnings that brightened up some corners of the sky. She clutched her long-sleeved pink nightgown as she stared outside. And as frightening as Tiffany thought that kind of weather to be, she couldn’t deny that the way the water seemed to outline the figures and silhouettes of the vast garden of the mansion was nearly artistic, and that it was quite magical and enthralling to see and hear mother Nature roar that way, majestic in her almighty power.

“Tiffany?” Taeyeon called from behind upon seeing the girl as she climbed the last step of the staircase, making the brunette jump again.

“Oh.” She closed her eyes, sighing in relief once she had seen Taeyeon’s lean figure making her way towards her. “Hello.”

Taeyeon chuckled faintly. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she said, taking a final step closer to Tiffany. She eyed the girl attentively and furrowed her eyebrows, unaccustomed to seeing Tiffany so uncomfortable and nervous. Her eyes then traveled to the window and gazed outside, registering the rain falling so loudly. “Are you afraid of rainstorms?” Taeyeon asked, glancing back at Tiffany.

“N-no,” the girl responded. She was, but she couldn’t tell Taeyeon that. How childish and silly would it sound?  “No, you just gave me a fright.”

Taeyeon’s upcoming response was halted by a boisterous, violent thunder, the loudest that night thus far, which a garish lightning had preceded. Tiffany yelped at the sound, jolted towards Taeyeon, and by reflex wrapped her her arms around the blonde’s neck. She buried her face under Taeyeon’s chin, which was possible because, albeit it was bed time, Taeyeon still had her outfit on, as well as her high heels, while Tiffany was only in her slippers. Taeyeon recalled that morning, when Tiffany appeared on her door dressed very similarly, a sight she had find very endearing. The current accentuated height difference caused by Taeyeon’s high heels made Taeyeon think Tiffany even more adorable, small and fragile in her arms. She forgot about Tiffany’s alluring, womanly body and aura for a minute, her mind suddenly focusing on keeping the pale, frightened girl safe.

Propelled by her shocked and delighted wandering mind, Taeyeon’s body went rigid with the sudden contact, even more so when Tiffany tightened her grip around her when another thunder, nearly as loud as the previous one, growled in the clouds, and she took a few seconds to react. As she did, she brought her hands up, placed them on Tiffany’s back, and soon wrapped the girl in a protective embrace. Her chest sunk as she exhaled the breath that had been caught in . One of her hands caressed Tiffany’s back with soothing movements, and afterwards made its way up and toward the girl’s head. Taeyeon allowed herself to Tiffany’s scalp with her fingertips for a while, then she slid her fingers through the length of Tiffany’s dark locks until they were no longer grazing smoothly against her skin. She kept repeating the same moves for a while.

“Don’t be scared,” Taeyeon cooed in a whisper, holding the girl tighter against herself. “Nothing is going to happen.”

Tiffany’s eyes, shut tightly in fright, popped open at the sound of the blonde’s mellifluous voice, and albeit she didn’t want to, she at once let go of the woman, taking a step backwards. Tiffany thought inappropriate and inconvenient of her to have pounced on Taeyeon that way. As for Taeyeon, she had to try her best to disguise the disappointment of having Tiffany gone from her arms so quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Tiffany said, looking down. “Forgive me, I’m just being silly. I’m easily frightened at these things. I think it must be because Nana used to pace around the halls yelling in fear when it stormed, when I was a little girl.” She paused, furrowed her eyebrows as though she were in a deep, conflicting thought, and finally lifted her eyes to look at Taeyeon again. “Is it even possible for a person’s reaction to something they fear to somehow unconsciously induce another person to fear the same thing?”

Taeyeon couldn’t help but grin. She adored the way Tiffany’s mind worked, even though she sometimes thought it worked too much. “I suppose so.”

“Oh,” was all Tiffany said before she turned around and faced the window again.

Taeyeon watched the girl with longing eyes. Tiffany’s scent, her thick dark tresses tickling the tip of her nose, the feeling of the younger’s warm body against her own: it was all vivid in her mind. And those memories and feelings should remain vivid for a long while, Taeyeon knew.

“You should go to sleep,” the blonde advised as she turned around and began to walk away. “You might get frightened again if you stay there. Besides, it’s late. Rest.”

Tiffany glanced towards Taeyeon and frowned a little, hating to see the woman go. She tagged along, quietly following the blonde, and placed her hand on the latter’s thin wrist when she was close enough to, holding it to halt the other’s steps. Taeyeon instantly stopped, and then slowly turned around. Tiffany smiled bashfully.

“Thank you,” she cooed, still gripping Taeyeon’s wrist gently. “And pardon me for the silly way I acted.”

The woman smiled. “That’s all right.”

Tiffany nodded her head and let go of Taeyeon’s wrist. She watched the blonde for a while, wondering if she would do or say anything else, but Taeyeon remained silent, and nearly immobile: Again, that same restrained demeanor that puzzled and frustrated Tiffany so greatly. Why, oh why was Taeyeon always like that whenever the two were together? Tiffany didn’t understand why the woman seemed so uncomfortable sometimes. Regardless, Tiffany never doubted Taeyeon’s sincerity: every time the girl looked into the blonde’s eyes, they were clear, honest. She was at ease whenever her eyes met Taeyeon’s.

She placed her palms on Taeyeon’s arms and held them softly as she tip-toed and placed a kiss on the woman’s cheek. Taeyeon closed her eyes as Tiffany’s lips touched her skin, nearly in slow-motion. She wanted to bring Tiffany closer and keep her in her arms forever, but she dared not move, save from her hands that lifted and slightly touched Tiffany’s forearms. Once the girl’s lips and face had retracted, she promptly opened her eyes, and they quickly found Tiffany again. As the usual. Her eyes were always, always on Tiffany, even when she strongly advised them against it.

“Good night, Taeyeon,” Tiffany whispered. Her hands fell off Taeyeon’s arms, and she quickly turned around and paced towards her bedroom. When Taeyeon came to her senses, Tiffany was already closing the door behind her, as she sneaked one last glance at the blonde standing in the hallway.

Taeyeon sighed, unaware that she had been holding her breath all that time. She drew the air in sharply, trying to ebb the mess and haze her mind and heart found themselves in. Finally finding her balance, she calmly glided towards and into her bedroom. Once she had closed the door, she leaned against it, and a frustrated sigh escaped her lips. “Damn it, Tiffany,” she hissed, banging her head lightly against the door.

***

Tiffany sighed as she sat down on her bed. She didn’t feel like lying down, let alone sleep. Not even the rain, that was now beginning to dwindle as the heavy drops became gentle, producing soothing sounds as they hit the ground, managed to put her at ease. She was much too agitated. She jumped off the mattress and headed towards her writing desk, where she had left the papers Taeyeon had landed her the other day. She picked them up, sat down, and leaned back as she switched through theㅡshe countedㅡ6 sheets of paper. She skimmed expertly through each of the texts, and finally stopped when her eyes found the words “child” and “frightened” in one of them. She put the others aside, and started reading the text, which seemed to be one of the longest, attentively as she made herself more comfortable in her seat.

In my small, suffocating hometown, where everyone was acquainted with everyone and no secret could be kept for long, and also where I was born and raised, there was an equally small playground in one of the only two parks we had, where all the children (save for those whose parents were strict and overprotective in an extremely old-fashioned manner) would gather to play every single day, and usually at the same time. I can perfectly recall the two sets of swings seats; the tarnished see-saw (which was put to use anyway, even though some parents have begged the mayor to replace it multiple times); the multi-colored, albeit faded merry-go-round; the old, faltering slide; the tetherball, and the two springers that were shaped like little ponies. I, myself, used to frequent the place just as often as my fellows, but I hardly ever played. In fact, I can count on my fingers the times I played at that playground: six times. Once for each thing.

I was an extremely self-conscious, timid child. “Unusual,” as I recall my mother saying from time to time. And despite the fact that my parents always made every effort to raise their only child as a courageous, fearless young lady, I was always frightened of everything. Regardless of the situation, I always thought about the things that could go wrong before anything else. The bad outcomes, that is. That being said, I suppose it isn’t hard to imagine why I never played along with the other children at the playground. I remember one time when Mary Jane, the daughter of one of our neighbors, scraped her knee as she fell off the swing seat. Another time, little George twisted his knee with a bad move when getting off the merry-go-round. What if the same happened to me? What if I did something wrong and the others laughed at me?

Naturally, my fears held me back a lot. But regardless, I still wanted to try. Many days did I spend sitting down nearby the playgroundㅡwith a book in hands which couldn’t even read and comprehend very yet, but still tried to anywayㅡwatching the children run, laugh, and play. They all seemed very gleeful. Very different from me. I was never very bright-spirited. But I wanted to feel that way, at least for once, and so, one day, I waited until every child had gone home, and then decided to try playing on the equipment. I was 7 years-old. My first try were the swing seats. I sat on one of them, and began swaying my legs back and forth repeatedly. Soon, the swing began moving. I was excited, and delighted to have the air touch my face so gently and blow my hair on the contrary direction as I swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. But, alas, suddenly I lost my balance and fell off on my back. I jumped up in pain and regained my balance as I stood, breathing heavily both from the fright and the pain. I never played on the swing seats again.

The other times I attempted at playing with the equipment weren’t any different, in its majority. I got nausea from the merry-go-round. The wretched tetherball hit me in the face, and my nose hurt for a week. A piece of wood pricked my leg as I slid down the damned slide. The time I mustered up the courage to play with another child on the see-saw, I fell down when he suddenly got up from it upon hearing his mother’s cry as she called him. The only harmless thing in the playground had been the pony springers, but those were also the dullest.

I don’t count this memory as one of my fondest, but it did teach me a lesson. Perhaps not the one it should have; I didn’t have anyone tell me sometimes all a person needs to rise stronger and to learn something is a painful fall. Nobody told me that playing in the playground took practice, that children are usually assisted by adults the first time they play, and that I shouldn’t give up on my first try. All I took from trying out the playground’s equipment was that I perhaps shouldn’t do the things I wanted to, because I could get hurt from it. Again, I had no one to tell me that things can either work out well or badly, but that I wouldn’t know if I didn’t try. I never returned to the playground after I was done with my experiences there, not even to watch the children play. During warm, breezy spring and summer afternoons, I would sometimes miss the wind caressing my face as I swung in the swing seats, but I didn’t want to get hurt again. I thought it was better to be safe than entertained. Anyway; I grew up a healthy child. Often bored and unamused, but healthy nonetheless. And safe. My mother never saw me bleed or come home with purple spots on my skin from injuring myself while playing. I don’t have childhood scarsㅡbut I don’t have many fun memories, either.

The worst, perhaps saddest, if you will, part of this story is that I brought the habit of depriving myself of enjoyment into my adult life. I still forbid myself  to do this or that because I am too afraid they won’t end up well. It kills me inside, sometimes. I’m trying to learn how to bend this habit, though. For my own good. The years seem to fly byㅡI’m no longer that young a woman, and I don’t know how far life will take me (you never know what’s to happen tomorrow), and I do want to die thinking I’ve lived a satisfactorily (I don’t demand it is extremely) happy and amusing existence. But first I suppose I must bend my habit of not being good at letting go of habits. And reason with myself about how my reason shouldn’t always be the one to have the last say in everything. But then, again…

I hope you see my problem. What am I if not a walking, conflicted contradiction of myself?

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    January 30th
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      1949

Tiffany exhaled heavily as she finished reading the excerpt. She glanced around the room, then back at the paper, and smiled. She thought it was beautiful.

She sprang up from her seat and soon she was out of the room, making her way towards Taeyeon’s. She knocked gently on the door, and in a few seconds Taeyeon’s voice responded, inviting her in. She knew it was Tiffany.

Tiffany entered the room and closed the door, smiling excitedly. She walked towards the bed and sat by the edge of it, watching as Taeyeon sat up. “I just read this,” Tiffany said, handing Taeyeon the paper. The blonde scanned it and smiled shyly, recognized the text.

“Well?”

Tiffany shrunk her shoulders, looking sheepish. “It’s pretty personal, huh?”

Taeyeon nodded, still eyeing the paper. “Yes, it is.” She handed it back to Tiffany.

“Did you have it published?”

“No. I wrote it for myself. I never intended to have it published.”

“Then why did you let me read it?”

Taeyeon leaned back, resting her back on the pillow. “I don’t know. I thought it would be the thing you would like to read. That is, from me. I don’t think you would be very happy if I only provided you with the kind of texts that were mostly published in your father’s paper. You would be bored.”

Tiffany chuckled. “I guess so.” She paused for a while, looking at the paper. “I love it,” she said, eyeing Taeyeon again. “It’s lovely. I adore your writing. It’s so tender.”

Taeyeon just smiled.

“If you ever write a book, I want to be the first to read it.”

“I’ll make sure of that.”

The two sat quietly eyeing each other for a few seconds, both with tenderness and adoration in their eyes. Tiffany was the first to break the silence.

“I should get going,” she said as she rose from the bed and made her way towards the door. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I just wanted to talk to you about the text, even if briefly.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” said Taeyeon. “Tell me when you read the other ones.”

Tiffany nodded, wished Taeyeon a good night, and turned around. She stopped when she was just about to walk out the door. “Taeyeon?” she called.

“Yes?”

“You know, my life has never had much excitement. I have never known risk, because I never knew there even were risks to take. I might not be the best person to advise you on this, but why don’t you try the swing seat again?”

Taeyeon looked quizzically at Tiffany, waiting for her to continue.

“The first time you tried it, you fell. But who knows what will happen if you try it again? You might fly,” Tiffany added with a smile, using her right hand to mime a bird flying high upwards.

Taeyeon chortled amusedly, smiling heartily at the young woman. The brightest and most sincere smile Tiffany had ever seen grace the blonde’s face.

***

Spring came in all its grace bringing warmth to everything and everyone it touched. The sun was brighter, the evenings had a pleasant temperature, and women could be seen wearing their best spring dresses. And throughout the months, as the days grew warmer, so did Taeyeon and Tiffany’s affection for each other. Their relationship and feelings seemed to follow nature’s course, blooming with the flowers in the mansion’s garden, growing stronger and more beautiful by the minute. They spent the whole day together, growing unusually accustomed to each other’s presence, to the point that they would feel like something was missing if either went out of the other’s sight for a second. By the end of May, the two were practically inseparable, sharing a nice, comfortable, loving friendship.

The pull Taeyeon had on Tiffany grew stronger each day, puzzling Tiffany more and more. She didn’t understand things very well. The way her body reacted when Taeyeon’s hand occasionally laid on her skin and her racing heart when she and the woman were too close were still too foreign to herㅡher books hadn’t taught her all that much, after all. All she knew was that she wanted to be with Taeyeon every second, every day, and that nothing felt as perfect as Taeyeon’s arms did around her whenever she felt blue or scared.

Taeyeon, on the other hand, had grown aware of her feelings a long time ago. But at this point, somehow, she had managed to keep them lying dormant somewhere inside her heart. In her mind, she had put them gently inside a pretty little box, which she had locked with a key. The key had Tiffany’s name engraved on it. She was the only one who could open it. Maybe someday she would open the box; for now, however, she decided it would be best to leave it alone. She was satisfied to have a good relationship with Tiffany, and to have the girl around her. It would be a lie to say the didn’t want more every time her fingertips grazed Tiffany’s skin or every time they shared a hug, but it was enough for Taeyeon to just be able to do that. It’s better than nothing, she would think.

Everything was taking its course. There wasn’t a sight of distress: the relation between Taeyeon and Tiffany was doing better than ever, Taeyeon had grown better accustomed to the house (and Tiffany could swear her mood had improved significantly), Mr. Hwang was hardly ever homeㅡand when he was, he wouldn’t interact much or for long with either of the women. He had long forgotten his suspicions about whatever had been going on between them. As the usual, he was too busy engulfed in his work to preoccupy himself with anything else for too long. All was tranquil and settled… until one night it wasn’t.

Tiffany knocked on Taeyeon’s door, announcing her entrance. She no longer waited for the woman to invite her in, although she always did wait a second to see if Taeyeon would say anything against her entering the bedroom. Taeyeon's eyes rose from the book she had in hands as she saw the door open and Tiffany’s head poke inside the room. Taeyeon smiled, putting the book aside.

"Are you too tired?" Tiffany asked, smiling, all pretty in her baby pink lace and silk nightgown.

Taeyeon shook her head. "No. Why?"

"I need to show you something." The girl looked around, and then smiled again, beckoning Taeyeon to follow her. The latter did, and once she was by the door, Tiffany grabbed her hand and rushed her out of the door and then downstairs. Taeyeon was puzzled, but didn't object, and thus let herself be led by Tiffany towards the back door and to the garden.

"Tiffany, what are we doing here?" Taeyeon finally asked, looking around.

"Hush," Tiffany said, waving her hand as though to tell taeyeon to keep quiet. She then pointed and looked upwards. Taeyeon’s eyes traveled from Tiffany’s extended finger to her eyes and then finally to what Tiffany glanced at so adoringly. Her own gaze then met with a sky of the deepest, darkest blue embellished by the brightest and most bountiful stars. It was unlike anything Taeyeon had ever seen before.

The blonde smiled, folding her arms. "Is that what you wanted to show me? The stars?"

Tiffany smiled herself and nodded her head. "You know, a few years ago, I was feeling very lonely at night. I couldn't sleep, and I was trying desperately to find something to occupy my mind with. I was in my room and I passed by my window and looked up, and there were so many stars in the sky, I thought heavens would run out of space trying to accommodate them all. So I came to the garden and lay down on the bench, watching them." She took a pause, inhaling deeply as a chilly breeze blew. "It was such a wonderful sight. Everything looked so beautiful and peaceful out of sudden. It was funny, I had the impression that the more I watched, the more stars appeared. It made me feel very happy." She shrunk her shoulders a little, and then directed her gaze towards Taeyeon. "It's been a while since I've seen so stunning a sky. I figured you would like to see it, too." She hugged her arms. “I suppose it is the kind of thing I would like to share with you.”

Taeyeon turned her head slowly and, upon laying her eyes on Tiffany, caught her breath in . It was difficult to say which looked the prettiest: the stars up above, shining brighter than she'd ever imagined they could, or Tiffany, glowing tenderly under the silvery dim light of the night.

"I do," taeyeon cooed. "I've never seen such thing." Her eyes traveled down to the girl's , uncolored lips, and there they remained for a while, before finally rising again and boring into Tiffany’s chocolate orbs.

Taeyeon's gaze, so hungry yet so gentle, sent shivers down Tiffany's spine. A shock of vulnerability ran through her nerves every time Taeyeon looked at her like thatㅡwhich, Tiffany reckoned, happened quite frequently. She had noticed the way Taeyeon looked at her, and it made her feel awfully shy, although she missed the woman's eyes terribly every time they weren't on her. At the same time, though, that look Taeyeon gave her never failed to ignite a foreign flame within her heart.

Tiffany furrowed her eyebrows slightly.

"What's wrong?" Taeyeon asked, turning her body to Tiffany’s.

The brunette looked at the woman in front of her once again. Taeyeon, too, glowed softly under the stars. And she looked beautifulㅡsecretly, Tiffany loved it whenever she saw Taeyeon ready for bed or just getting out of it, when her long, thick, silky blonde hair would be freely cascading down her shoulders, her face pure, and her lips bare. Taeyeon looked the prettiest like that, Tiffany thought, although it was not like the woman didn't look flawless every hour of every day.

She sighed, glancing down at Taeyeon's naturally florid lips. It was the first time she studied and observed the woman's mouth so attentively. Her stomach felt funny—she thought that would be what people called “to get butterflies on your stomach.” But why?

Leaving her thoughts aside and simply following an instinct she didn’t know she had in her, Tiffany took a step closer, placed her dainty hand on Taeyeon’s cheek, and with a swift but graceful move, landed her lips on Taeyeon’s in a gentle, timid kiss. She closed her eyes and cupped Taeyeon’s face with both her hands as she kept their mouths touching each other.

Taeyeon wanted to cry. It was better than everything she had ever imagined. It was warm, soft, sweet. It was delightful. But it couldn’t be.

“No, Tiffany,” she said once she had parted her lips from Tiffany’s, cradling the younger’s hands in her palms as she withdrew them from her face. “No, darling. You can’t. We can’t.”

Tiffany saw the hurt in Taeyeon’s eyes. She saw the b tears gleaming under the light of the stars. She touched Taeyeon’s hands with her fingertips, brushing them tenderly as she tried to pull the woman closer again. “Why not?” she inquired, almost pleading.

Taeyeon shook her head. She took Tiffany’s face in hands and kissed her forehead, grazing her thumbs across Tiffany’s cheeks. “Good night, Tiff,” she whispered, and then quickly took off. Soon she was inside the house, out of Tiffany’s sight.

Tiffany stood alone in the garden, trying to digest all that had just happened. She glanced up at the stars again. A lonely tear rolled down her cheek, where Taeyeon had touched.

She finally understood.