Jessica sat with her legs hanging off the side of her bed, loose dress shirt draped over her shoulders as if it were a very temporary and very vulnerable shield, buttons all undone along the front. She smoothes out a few of the creases, more to pass the time than to actually accomplish anything, and to listen to the scratch of her blunt nails against the fabric over the gentle clattering noises coming from her kitchen. She sighs, jutting out her bottom lip to blow away strands of hair from her face as her palms find the mattress again and she leans back into them.


She doesn't know what to make of the mess on her floor. Stares blankly at the clothes that had rained all over her carpet from the storm that had churned up her bed sheets and tossed her pillows away last night. Her thumb and index finger catch her chin as she leans an elbow on her knee and allows herself to absorb it. To accept the fact that more than just the smell of Tiffany's body wash is going to distract her when she tries to fall asleep for awhile.


It's unsettling to think this bed isn't hers anymore, because she's given half of it away to someone else. But it's kind of okay, since she never liked sleeping on the left side of the bed anyway, and Tiffany's cell phone is still on the bedside table over there.


This room isn't even hers anymore, it feels unnaturally foreign. It feels like someone else is in here with her, while in reality she is very much alone as the heels of her feet skim the carpet from her swinging legs. Fingers scolding the sheets as she digs into them for being so inviting to someone that isn't her, and now they'll never welcome her alone again. They'll be cold when they were perfectly warm before and now she can't rely on her own body heat.


Frustrated, she stands with a huff and every intention to begin scavenging for her clothes and locating a place that doesn't seem like a cemetery for her mistakes, when she finds Tiffany banked against the frame of her bedroom door wearing striped underwear and Jessica's t-shirt.
"you're awake," she says easily, eyes slipping shut as she smiles and attends to the teacup in her hand.


Jessica responds with a strange, involuntary affirmative noise at the back of while her wide eyes openly appreciate how her oversized white shirt barely hangs off of Tiffany's body. The younger woman notices her ogling and in turn, she exaggerates her own travelling stare along the barren land of skin where Jessica hasn't buttoned up her shirt. Suddenly aware of her state of dress, Jessica yelps and tugs the two sides of her shirt together, wrapping it around her otherwise bare body. Tiffany shakes her head, placing her coffee on the dresser propped up against the wall near the doorway before padding her way over to her companion, who is frantically attempting to button up her shirt before the other woman is able to reach her.


Jessica has turned her back to her in a flurry, but Tiffany gently coaxes her back around again with a hand on her shoulder.
"Here, let me do it," Tiffany grabs the bottom button of the shirt and slides it into place, working her way up. Respectively, her eyes don't stray away from her task for a moment, and although Tiffany lives to tease as many blushes onto Jessica's face or as many curses out of as she can, she knows the appropriate time to let it be.


It's reverse déjà vu, because last night Tiffany was helping her out of her clothes rather than into them, but she was no less unhurried and careful. She was as attentive to any confirming or disconcerting noises coming from the body beneath her as she is to slipping each button carefully back into place right now. As always, Jessica was a bit more frenzied with her methods, and she's just now appreciating Tiffany's patience. Not only for last night, but for the last few years, and she wishes she had the strength within herself to apologize. Instead, she opens without any rough draft of what to say and all that comes out is a whisper.


"Tiffany…" she nearly whimpers as hands that aren't hers run themselves down the flat of Jessica's stomach, over the barrier of her shirt, to smooth out the wrinkles. She tugs sharply with a flick of her wrist on the hem before smiling at her handiwork.


"You look nice in my shirt," Tiffany responds with a proud sort of smile, and Jessica's eyes threaten to outgrow the space they've been given inside of her skull.


"Your wha -?" she finally looks down, finally takes an actual look at what she's wearing only to confirm what Tiffany has said. She's wearing the shirt she so diligently worked her counterpart out of last night, and upon further inspection of her memory, she remembers her own shirt didn't even have any buttons.


The fabric doesn't have any added weight to it with the knowledge that it isn't hers like she thought it would, and she finds herself attracted to the idea of Tiffany wearing her clothes, like she has some sort of mark on her because of it, and it doesn't wrench her insides counter clockwise with a fist of nails like it did before. She steps forward with one foot, testing the way it feels to willingly move into Tiffany's arms without lust's extra push. She's sober from any remotely ual thoughts, and she allows the connection of her limbs to her heart rather than to her brain to reach out and slowly wrap her arms securely around Tiffany's waist, cheek nuzzled into her chest. Gentle hands touch her back fingertips first, cautious, before Tiffany's hold is equal in strength.


"You look nice in my shirt, too," Jessica mumbles against Tiffany's chest, still shy of overexposing herself, so the words come out like a young boy apologizing to a little girl for getting mud on her dress, but Tiffany finds it all the more endearing as she rests her cheek upon a dark head of hair.


Taeyeon's name flickers on the screen of Tiffany's cell phone, and Jessica thinks the sound of it vibrating on the wood of her bedside table to fill their comfortable silence sounds nice, too. Nice enough for her to think more of Tiffany's things should be on that table.
They fall onto the bed, legs tangled, and Jessica figures it's good for the sheets to feel bitter without Tiffany because the way the feel with her is the safest home she's ever known.

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sinice I'm on the roll taday. :)) here's for today~! I AM SO HAPPY!