For the next few weeks, her nightly routine therefore changed. She still went to the coffee shop, still ordered her usual cup, but no longer stayed past midnight. The best addition, however, was her daily ride with Tiffany.

They had started conversing civilly, no longer as persons who deeply disliked each other, not yet as close friends, but she still hoped that that would come with time.

Still, she had managed to get her to share part of her past with her. Telling her about her past life in the city had made her open up about her dislike of the little town. And she had been surprised to know that they had that in common. She had admitted that she felt trapped in that life and was still there because of the coffee shop.

And with all those conversations, she had reached a point where she knew that she could no longer deny it. Learning more about her was making her grow fond of her, and finding a reason to dislike her was becoming really tedious.

She still helped though. Indeed, she was still infuriating, mostly when she'd refuse to tell her why she disliked her.

But she was coping and was certain she'd get the truth out of her.

Unexpectedly, she actually got it on that particular night.

As usual, she had been behind the counter, but this time, she had had her back turned to her. Standing on tiptoes, she had been trying in vain to get something off a shelf.

"What are you doing?" she had asked, trying in vain to get her eyes off the hint of skin she was showing where her blouse had ridden up.

"Just getting that packet of coffee off the shelf. I wonder why they always insist on putting these things so out of reach," she had replied absentmindedly.

And then, instinctively, she had gotten up from her seat and had gone behind the counter, right behind her. They had been terribly close, even closer than necessary. She hadn't been able to resist the delicious scent of her shampoo.

Cinnamon and vanilla.

"Let me help you," she had proposed, extending her arm to reach the packet of coffee. Yet being small of stature compared to the brunette girl, her long limb arms actually did the job and had quickly got it in her grasp. She hadn't moved though. Instead, she had lingered there, leaning over her as she whispered in her ear.

"Here," while she slowly caught her hand in hers and handed her the packet.

She had taken it, and thanked her a little breathlessly.

"You're welcome," she had finally replied when she turned around and looked straight into her dark onyx eyes.

At that particular moment, she had realized that she couldn't lie to herself anymore.

Leisurely, she had started to lean towards her, gently circling her arms around her waist, when she suddenly stepped back, away from her enticing proximity.

"I – huh – customers aren't allowed on this side of the counter," she had stuttered, refusing to meet her gaze again.

Taeyeon only gave her a lopsided smile before going back to her seat, definitely determined to get her to answer her question this time.

"Why do you dislike me Tiffany?"

She had expected the girl to ignore that question like she always did, had fully prepared herself to insist this time around but was genuinely surprised when she replied.

"You killed him."

She would have thought she was joking if she hadn't heard the seriousness in the latter’s voice.

"What do you mean?" she asked, positively surprised.

"Pikachu. You ran over him with your stupid car."<