a/n: Two more parts. Hopefully. HOPEFULLY.

—–

“Wow. This… This is just…“

“Beautiful…”

Taeyeon grimaced as she bit her tongue, but it was too late.

The word had already left and there was no way to take it back anymore, but just like how she had been considering herself lucky these past few days, Tiffany didn’t notice that it was actually for her.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she heard her say as the latter turned to her with a smile, “It’s beautiful.”

The sun had been down a couple of hours ago and they were now standing at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, resting for a bit after going around the city the whole morning and afternoon.

Three consecutive days they’ve spent almost attached at the hip, combing through the city in Taeyeon’s moped (a gift from her dad for easy travel, he said), decked in pink and blue helmets.

They’ve visited shops, ate at all the restaurants especially the ones hidden away from the main traffic, and visited all the museums.

Taeyeon felt like she was on vacation, and it was the first time she really had fun ever since she had arrived almost a week ago. Gone were her worries and uneasiness, and she thought, as she stared at Tiffany’s side profile that was being highlighted by the Eiffel Tower’s warm lights, that it was only obvious why she was feeling that happy, and that her dad was probably right.

And she hated it whenever her father was right.

Usually, she would debate with him, list all her argument points until she closed all loose ends and covered all loopholes, but with this one she was readily accepting defeat.

Taeyeon, maybe—no, most definitely—had fallen in love with her dad’s best friend’s daughter.

It might not have been love at first sight, as her father had predicted, but it was definitely more than just admiration.

A growling sound reached Taeyeon’s ear, snapping her from her thoughts.

“Oops…”

She chuckled when Tiffany grinned at her, flushed, embarrassed at her tummy.

“Come on, I know a place that serves the best food you’ll ever eat here in Paris. Cheap and has a good view of the tower too!”

Tiffany suddenly snatched the keys from her hand, bolting off before stopping a good distance away from her.

“What are you waiting for, Tae?!” She yelled, her loud voice echoing, “I’ll drive! Let’s go!”

Taeyeon took off after her as the other girl ran off again, screaming after the laughing girl.

“Hey, do you even have a French license?!”

—–

If Tiffany had driven her down South that day her truck broke down, then it must have felt something like this.

She didn’t know which one felt better, though, Tiffany’s arms wrapped around her waist as they cruised around the streets of Paris, or her own pair latched onto the other.

Taeyeon had been shy at first, opting to just hold onto the grills at the back of her moped, but the other girl insisted, grabbing both of her hands and pulling on them before wrapping them around her own waist snugly, telling her to stick closer because she was feeling cold.

So she did.

She wrapped her arms around Tiffany tightly as she pressed her body on her back, hoping that the warmth that suddenly filled her was felt by the other, too.

Taeyeon could swear that she heard Tiffany sigh when she drew her closer, but the sound of her moped’s engine coming to life drowned it even before she could confirm anything.

“So, where to, Mademoiselle Kim?” Tiffany asked, bumping her helmet-clad head with her own playfully. She was turned towards her and Taeyeon could feel her breath hitting her cheek.

“Just drive, Chauffeur Hwang. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

—–

When Taeyeon first saw Ratatouille, she thought it was stupid.

A rat who cooked while perched on a kid’s head hidden under a toque was just a ridiculous idea, but as the movie ended with the credits finally rolling out, she suddenly decided that she was going to be a chef.

She saw how people became happy because of Remy’s cooking, how even the cold-hearted critique burst into emotions after just one bite, and she wanted that. Taeyeon wanted people to be happy with the food that she makes—as simple as that.

And judging by how Tiffany had her eyes closed and her lips in a smile as she chewed on the simple dinner that she had cooked, she felt like she’s close to achieving that dream.

“You’re right,” the other girl said, catching her attention from her own plate, “this is the best.”

Tiffany hummed some more as she placed another spoonful of pasta in , making Taeyeon smile.

“Why thank you, Mademoiselle Hwang. There’s more in the pot if you want?”

The other girl shook her head as she tried to swallow what’s in , raising her palm and gesturing for her to wait for a moment.

It was times like this when Taeyeon would feel her heart beat a little faster and slower at the same time, because Tiffany’s quirks were all adorable—something she had been noticing quite often lately—and she just couldn’t help but adore every single part of her.

“How come you still wanted to study when you’re already this good?” Tiffany asked after swallowing, reaching for the glass of red wine Taeyeon had set out for her.

“I lack the proper techniques. I just learned all these,” Taeyeon gestured at the food, “from watching cooking shows and reading cook books in between my company duties.”

“Well, I think you’re really made for the kitchen,” the other girl commented before shoving another spoon in . “Wow, this is soooo good…”

Taeyeon chuckled before digging on her own plate.

—–

“You never told me you could ride a motorcycle.”

Taeyeon turned away from the view outside her window, leaning on the windowpane as she faced Tiffany who was comfortably lounging on her sofa after eating so much.

After the simple dinner, Tiffany had volunteered to wash the dishes, but after eating almost everything, just standing up from her chair had been a struggle. So Taeyeon just let her sit there while she washed everything she had used, and by the time she was finished, Tiffany had finally digested.

“Only bicycles and scooters,” Taeyeon answered back. “I don’t think I can handle something bigger, like your chopper.”

She chuckled, suddenly remembering the pink bike.

“Really, though,” she teased, shaking her head, “A chopper, Tiffany? Really?”

“Hey, my dad gave that to me, okay? It was a gift!”

“Oh? I wish my dad gave me a cooler bike too, like, a Ducati or something.”

“I think the moped’s perfect for you, though. You look cute on it.”

Taeyeon pouted.

“That’s the point; I don’t want to be cute,” she said with a grimace, “I want to be y.”

Tiffany laughed and Taeyeon pouted even more.

“Aaaaww,” the other girl cooed, “How can you not be cute when you’re pouting like that?”

She watched her stand up from the couch, walked the few steps separating them. In seconds, Tiffany was already in her space, pinching her cheeks.

“What’s wrong about being cute? Cute is nice,” Tiffany teased, squishing her cheeks this time, trapping her face in between her palms.

Taeyeon felt herself blush, her squished face starting to feel warm. She wondered if the other girl felt it, but judging by the continuous pinching and squishing, she realized that the latter probably didn’t care.

“But you said you didn’t like cute people…”

She lowered her head when she said that with her hushed voice, refusing to look at the taller girl who had stopped pinching her cheeks.

“I guess I don’t, but… Cute people make me want to hug them like this…”

Taeyeon held her breath when Tiffany gently slid her hands down her jaw then passed her neck, pulling her into a warm embrace. She felt her heart beat wildly inside her chest, and this time she was sure that the other girl could feel it too.

Shyly, she lifted her arms, gingerly wrapping them around the slim waist. She closed her eyes when she heard Tiffany sigh in her ear.
The other girl had been doing that quite often lately, she thought in passing.

They stayed like that for a while, neither one of them speaking. It was rather comfortable; felt really natural, like that night where Tiffany had slept on her shoulder at the back of her mother’s truck.

Surely, it was a memory she wouldn’t want to forget.

“Are you abusing my non-aversion to skinship?” Taeyeon asked, finally, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle, just enough for Tiffany to hear. She tried to ignore that fluttering feeling in her tummy, but it only intensified every time she breathed in.

“Why, you don’t like hugs, Mademoiselle Kim?”

She chuckled at that, again, before drawing Tiffany even more closer to her.

And it was when the latter tightened the hold around her neck did she felt a mutual understanding.

“I do, Mademoiselle Hwang. I like hugs very much.”

“Good,” Tiffany answered back, and her voice sounded like she was smiling. “I like hugs too, especially from cute people.”

———

———

When Tiffany woke up on her hotel bed, she swore she could still feel the warmth that Taeyeon’s embrace left on her body. She smiled when she recalled all the teasing and all the laughing they did last night, especially the shorter girl’s weird chortles that come out whenever something relatively funny happens or gets talked about.

They spent the night talking about anything and everything, learning new things about each other as they go along, and when it had gotten too late, Taeyeon offered to take her back to the hotel on her moped.

The ride back to her hotel was too short and had ended too fast, but when Taeyeon shyly held her hand to stop her from going inside the lobby, Tiffany felt time slowed down. And when the shorter girl stood on her tippy toes to give her a soft kiss on her cheek, thanking her for the enjoyable day, she felt the world stop spinning completely.

The shorter girl had embraced her briefly then, before getting on her moped and riding away hurriedly, and by the time Tiffany had snapped from her stupor, the other girl was long gone.

She sighed, contentedly, rolling on her bed with a huge smile on her face.

—–

After an hour of bumming around in her hotel room, Tiffany had received a call from Madame Cosette Dupont, the French woman she had helped at that one boutique while she was out shopping with François.

They had agreed to meet later that day, and though Tiffany wanted to spend the day with Taeyeon before she officially starts her culinary classes, she couldn’t decline the other woman.

And so hours later, she found herself in an exclusive restaurant, sipping on the best wine she had ever tasted in her life.

“Ah, Tiffany, I’m glad you were able zo meez wiz me zoday! You should’ve seen mes amies, zey all loved my ouzfiz!”

“Madame Dupont—“

“Oh please ma chérie, call me Cosette! ‘Madame Dupont’ makes me feel really old.”

In the short span of time Tiffany had spent with the lady, all have been good-natured and surprisingly a lot of fun. Yes, she was intimidated when they first met, but scary first impressions soon vanished when they’ve actually talked, and not just about clothes, but also about everything.

Turned out, Cosette Dupont was a household name in France, very wealthy and very influential. Why she didn’t have a good stylist, Tiffany would never know, but she was glad, kind of, because if Madame Dupont did, then she wouldn’t have been offered this interesting proposition.

“So, oui? You’re going zo do it, yes?”

Cosette’s hopeful gaze made Tiffany smile.

And right then, she had remembered her initial plan of travelling around the world, but she thought, with a sudden excitement brewing in her chest, that staying in Paris for a little while longer wouldn’t hurt.

Also, because, there was a little cute someone in Paris that the other places in the world could never have.

“Okay,” Tiffany finally answered, nodding her head enthusiastically. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your stylist.”

End of Part 5

*mes amies – My friends