not proofread–sorry for the eventual mistakes! 

Sometimes she thinks she did a big mistake.

Taeyeon never thought she'd end up like this–lying on the dorm's couch, watching an old Disney movie; a blanket protecting her from the cold, dark night, the lights off: she wasn't a stranger to loneliness.
She wasn't a friend either.
Taeyeon didn't really like cold nights at first: it reminded her too much of the fact that she was alone, with the wind blowing in her ears and her eyes on the city lights, thinking about how small and how insignificant she was. Cold nights meant overthinking, wondering if she could make it–there was a big world out there, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to take the jump.
She eventually did, and fell too deep.

Taeyeon first fell when she noticed holding hands could have different, various meanings, even with friends: she fell even harder when she saw the eyes that caught her breath. She remembers thinking, back then, that maybe falling wasn't that bad, and that she should fall more often; she believed someone would be there to catch her and indeed, there was, and she ended up falling on her knees, her heart beating way too fast, her hands sweating,
her gaze on the floor.

Taeyeon never thought it'd happen.
Taeyeon never meant for it to happen.

Suddenly touching was more intimate–she couldn't hug her as much as before, because she knew if she did, she'd mean something else; she couldn't take care of her as much as before, because she knew she'd end up wanting for more, expecting more.
Everything took a different turn and then it meant nothing anymore–she started wondering if they were really friends or if it was just some fanservice; she started looking away and biting her lips because she could see the disappointed look and she just couldn't—
Taeyeon never wanted to become like this–she always thought she was smart enough not to mess up, not to make a mistake.
It's not like she really tried, anyway.

Sometimes she'd think that maybe, just maybe–everything could've been avoided if she didn't want to be a singer in the first place.
And then she'd look up and see her and smile unconsciously–she hated that effect on her: how she could lift her mood in an instant, how her eyes would shine when looking at her; how she'd have this genuine joy drawn on her face, how she'd follow her without skipping a beat.
But how could she, when Tiffany was the sun itself.
Her eyes wouldn't burn when glancing at her: but she'd find herself unable to look away, not when her heart was telling not to; not when she'd notice the small details, from the way her hand moves, to the way she pouts.
Taeyeon often thought herself as a living, whipped mess: even when she left, she'd always come back to her.
Taeyeon never learned from her mistake.
It's not like she really wanted to, anyway.

Maybe that was how she was supposed to end: heartbroken every day and her mind everywhere but at the right place.
She laughs, shifting her legs. Maybe she was supposed not to do anything about it: maybe she was never supposed to do anything from the start.

Was she supposed to keep her feelings bottled up inside, then?
Taeyeon was good at keeping her emotions for herself; and maybe, just maybe—
she chuckled.
Taeyeon had a lot of maybe in her life.
Maybe if she had pursued another passion: maybe if she hadn't been accepted, and maybe if she had given up after the first year; maybe if they hadn't debuted together–maybe if she didn't love her—

Taeyeon often thinks about how it would be like, not to care that much for her; not to feel this need to touch, not to instantly look for her every time she comes home, or when she enters a room.
She often thinks about how it would be not to love her as much as she does–if all they had and all they were could be as simple as being best friends.

One of the hardest fall was when she realized she couldn't get out of it, whatever it was; the hole she was swallowed in, as if it was waiting for her.
The hardest she's fallen was when she finally knew she'd never get what she wanted.

And Taeyeon wonders if she'd still be the same without her clenching fists and aching heart, without lingering gazes that tell more than they should; without small touches that want to mean more; without feeling her heart being crushed every time she sees her, because she knows Tiffany will never be hers.

She turns her head; it's a cold night, again, and she's still watching a Disney movie.
The volume is low and Taeyeon glances at the window: she never thought she'd find comfort in silence, the darkness that used to irk her.
She shifts her legs again. The blanket on her legs can't protect her from the cold just like how she couldn't protect her feelings nor herself; and as her clothes can't stop the cold piercing through her skin and making her soul shiver, Taeyeon silently put the blanket on the sleeping girl.

Sometimes she thinks she'd gladly make the same mistake all over again.

A/N:

i'm back, folks.

(^: