The early morning chill slips under the covers and wakes Miyoung up. She shivers and shifts to find warmth, but freezes when she ends up rolling onto something foreign. What is it? Her eyes spring open. A face, way too close, is in her face. A fresh face. Small and fair. So smooth that her hand moves, unbidden, and touches it.

Taeyeon. The realization hits and even though the room is still fairly dark, Miyoung feels like the sun is shining right in front of her. Taeyeon. My love.Unable to resist, she runs her fingers across the bridge of her lover’s nose to the tip. And those lips. Small but plump. Such a lovely shape. What would it be like to touch them? Soft. She watches those lips as they yield to her finger and regain their shape. How sweet they are.

“Mmm . . .”

Miyoung retracts her hand in a hurry but almost giggles when Taeyeon wrinkles her nose, eyes still closed. “Taeyeon . . .” She watches as the woman in question frowns but remains asleep. “Wake up . . .”

“Mmm?”

“Wake up, Taeyeon.”

Without opening her eyes, Taeyeon whines, “Why?”

Miyoung giggles this time. She might as well be trying to wake up a child. Sweeping the few stray strands of hair from Taeyeon’s face, she drops light butterfly kisses on the rosy cheeks, pert nose, smooth forehead, cute chin, all in a leisurely manner, as though she has all the time in the world.

“Mmm . . .” goes Taeyeon, disgruntled, but Miyoung does not stop. She drops more kisses, covering every available spot on the wonderful complexion and is about to lean in for a kiss on the lips when Taeyeon finally opens her eyes. “Mmm!” she exclaims, surprised by reality. “Miyoung!”

“Good morning, Taeyeon.”

The blush comes on fast and furious. “Good morning, Miyoung. I-I didn’t realize it was you.”

Miyoung feigns a frown. “Who did you think it was then?”

“I dreamt it was you,” says Taeyeon with eyes that dare not meet Miyoung’s, “but I didn’t realize it was really you.”

“Oh,” says Miyoung, launching into fully blossomed state of bliss. “I was surprised to see you beside me when I woke up too.”

The artist bolts up right and looks around the room. “Where’s Dayu? Did he come back at all?”

The question does not register with Miyoung at all—something else has her attention and it is making her blush in the light of day. “Taeyeon,” she says, pulling the sheets over the artist’s shoulders.

The act seems to remind Taeyeon of her ness and the artist blushes too as she takes the sheets from Miyoung and holds them up. “Dayu isn’t here.”

“Should we look for him?”

“I guess not. Dayu is more than capable of taking care of himself for a night. I’m just . . .” Taeyeon takes Miyoung’s hand, “well, he’s always been around.”

Covering Taeyeon’s hand with hers, Miyoung smiles. “I understand what you mean. It is the same feeling I got when he left me years ago.”

“I tried my hardest to get him to return to you after escaping . . . but he refused.”

Miyoung shakes her head. “Don’t feel bad. He did it because of me. He wanted to fulfil my wish to keep you from harm and the only way to make sure of that was to leave with you.” She almost leans away when Taeyeon leans in but stops herself in time, allowing Taeyeon’s lips to meet hers.

“As much as I want to stay here in bed with you, we have to get dressed.”

Miyoung nods. “But first, one more kiss.”

=

Taeyeon tries hard not to stare as Minyoung manifests before her, part by part. First, the chest. It is mildly awkward as Taeyeon helps her with it but the proximity between them is no longer the cause. As the layers of men’s clothes are piled on Miyoung, she begins to lose her femi