the one where your soulmate’s ghost haunts you when they die.

It is the aftermath of her death that brings agony to her. Sleepless nights and recurring dreams of how she died, it's just too much for her to bear.

( During the funeral, she felt nothing for raw remorse clawing her heart and an empty feeling settling somewhere deep inside her stomach - somewhere which was never empty, for that was the space reserved only for her soulmate. No tears were shed, no nasal voice and no shaking fingers. She stood still - back ramrod straight and raven tresses flowing - eyes blazing with fury and facade twisted into an expression that screamed vulnerability and terrible desolation. She went back home. No, she went back. Home was with her soulmate and with that seized away from her, she has no place to call home.)

The grip is cold against her smooth palm, finger ghosting over the chilling metal of the gun - and shiny, too - she has spent her time carefully cleaning the firearm. The gun was one of her late soulmate's posessions - treated with such care, as if the gun was her child. She doesn't mind, she never does.

The pressure she put over her temple makes her wince, barrel pressing against pale skin and a finger trained on the trigger - there is only one bullet inside the magazine, she knows it because she was the one who put it there. She closes her eyes and slowly sinks her finger, trigger delving deeper and -

Nothing happens.

Another try and another click rings. No, no, no, this is wrong, her mind screams.

(The sane part of her is breathing with relief.)

She snaps her eyes open, dark orbs light up in bewildredment and pure rage - a lioness trapped inside a cage: ready to pounce but scared, strong but weak. Her hands are trembling, face scrunched in despair and she aims - randomly - before pulling the trigger. A loud bang rings throughout the room, the bullet pierced a hole into the cement wall of her apartment and she breaks down.

A wail is ripped out of - ugly sobs, thick with emotions, tearing the deafening silence that falls into the empty apartment. Every breath hurts and every blinks blinding - like a fire that has gone up to sink its claw on her face and drags her down. Everything hurts without her soulmate here and -

There is a cold hand cupping her face, thumb caressing her cheekbones lovingly and her head snaps upwards. There she is, her soulmate, safe and sound - ignoring the fact that she's floating and looks partly transparent.

"Hey." Her voice echoes as if she's speaking from far away though there is a smile on her lip.

She scrambles to her feet, hands reaching out to desperately hold on to her dear soulmate. She is chilly against her but she doesn't mind. She never does.

"Apparently, the sayings are true," Tiffany says, voice a touch amused. "When your soulmate dies, she/he could be a ghost and haunt you!"

Taeyeon laughs, voice hoarse from crying and impatiently wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "Is that why you're here? To haunt me? Or do you wish you could have scared me?"

Tiffany merely lets out an unabashed chuckle, eyes curving into a pair of crescents and her hand settles on Taeyeon's nape, pulling her closer. "I was hoping I could see you, for the last time. You know our good bye wasn't the prettiest and absolutely not how I imagined. And this," she pointedly gestures towards the gun with a frown on her lips, "wasn't like you, at all."

Taeyeon feels her breath hitches like something has knotted itself at the back of and she swallows - she doesn't trust her voice not to break when she speaks so she only hangs her head low.

"You have no idea," Taeyeon starts, voice low and thick with emotions. "You have no idea to live through this nightmare without you - this world that once held happiness is nothing but a pit of hell without you here." The sobs are back and she does nothing to hold them back, tears rivuleting down her cheeks, staining her pale skin.

"I don't - I don't want to live without you." The confession flows so easily out of her, slithers past the ruins of walls which were guarding her.

Tiffany only smiles, one that is torn between a smile she gives when Taeyeon does something adorable and one she gives when Taeyeon does something stupid.

"Oh, honey." Her voice is sympathetic and sad, fingers slowly carding through the silky strands of her soulmate's locks. "You feel better now?"

Taeyeon only shots her a withering look, one that draws a laughter out of Tiffany. "How could I feel better? You're gone and - and I'm here, safe and sound and -"

"Between you and me," Tiffany cuts midsentence, ignoring the glare Taeyeon directs at her, "your time is coming. You just need to be patient."

There is the knot again and Taeyeon couldn't hide her queasiness. "When?"

"Soon," comes the helpful reply from her soulmate. "Soon, and we can be together again." Tiffany pulls away, brushing her hair one last time before she walks, floats, away from Taeyeon. "Believe me." She could hear the smile on her voice even as she starts to shimmer and with a blinding light, she's gone.

"I love you, Taeyeon. If I find out you try to kill yourself again, I will kick your bottom and no way in hell and heaven we would be together again."

Taeyeon laughs, feeling light in a way she hasn't felt since her soulmate's death and whispers, "I love you too."

( In the end, she dies at the age of 52. Alone with 2 cats and no family, she trips on her step as she heads down the stair, blood slowly seeping through her fractured skull and torn skin. Police finds her body 2 days after her death and marks it as an accident. But they can't explain the smile on her smile when the medical examiner announces her death as a painful one, for she bleeds herself to die - very slowly. People speculates she must have seen something beautiful in her last minutes but no one is sure of anything. )