Tiffany’s POV

As soon as I had slid my textbooks into the gaping mouth of my blazing pink bookbag and had sealed it with a pearly white zipper, it was lifted from my hands and slung over a slender shoulder. I looked up into Bora’s dazzling smile and couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread from my chest to the tips of my fingers.

We walked home together, neither of us talking much, both of us finding comfort in silence, in the unspoken moments of our companionship.  We were on the same wavelength, and when she glanced over at me with that sparkle in her eyes, we communicated without words.

I heard that the more clingy two people are in the public eye, the more insecure they are about the relationship.  Two comfortable souls can be relaxed around each other; they don’t need to nonverbally scream their affection to one another and nauseate the world with such displays.  Being a rather clingy person myself, I wasn’t exactly sure I believed this claim. 

But when I’m with Bora, I begin to think it’s right.

My brow furrows.

Jessica and Yuri are especially skin-shippy. Could it be they are insecure about themselves?  Or is it that their long-dormant hormones received the breath of life from Aphrodite and then got kicked into overdrive?

Bora laughed and nudged my arm with her elbow.  “What are you thinking about, Angel?”

“W-what do you mean?” I stammered, the flesh betwixt my eyes and jawline heating up at the mention of the pet name.

“You look like you just saw a bug in your salad,” my girlfriend teased, poking her tongue out at me.

“Do you honestly not know me at all?” I whined, tossing my bangs from my eyes. “If that were to happen, I would react like this.”

Bora clapped her hands over her ears as I belted out an ear-piercing shriek, my eyes scrunched and facial muscles flexing in indescribable contortions.

“Okay! Okay! Sheez,” Bora whined, slowly removing her hands from her fluffy brown locks.  “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

Oh.  Right.  What had I been thinking about?  Oh.  I remember.  But I felt uneasy sharing.  I wanted to say it’s bugs, but that’d been worn out to a cliché by this point. I racked my brain, searching and brushing away the cobwebs for some horrid memory or idea related to those creepy crawlies.  And then it hit me.  “Taeyeon.”

This time Bora was the one looking ready to puke and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

We began waging bets on how many girlfriends Kim Taeyeon would hoard before contracting a debilitating ually transmitted disease.  And before we knew it, we were both stretched out across my sofa, laughing at Kim Taeyeon’s foreseeable demise as we sipped from tall glasses of lemon-splashed iced tea.  My girlfriend sighed and ran a hand through her hair, completely comfortable with my bare feet resting in her lap.

“Fany?”

“Hm?” I voiced, my lips suctioned around the lip of the glass.

Her brow knitted, curving into a small, curious but well-gauged grin.  “Have you ever…done it with her?”

My tea sprayed everywhere and I quickly dabbed at my chin, cursing under my breath at the mess (and at the absurdity of the question).  Of course, my girlfriend chuckled at me and outstretched a hand, her thumb grazing my cheek.  “Angel~”

I was forced to look up into her deep, imploring eyes.  I wanted to answer, but I couldn’t.  I was frozen in her gaze.  It was one of those moments we felt no need to speak.  My feet numbly slipped from her lap as she moved; her body hovered over mine.  I don’t remember the tea having ever been taken from my hands, nor do I recall her setting hers down, but somehow they were swiftly discarded and our hands were free.  My fingers slipped through her hair as her lips brushed mine.  If only that sensation could last forever.  But her lips left me and she moved again; I released her, allowing her to get up.

I misjudged.

Pleasure ripped through my body, my back arching, knees pinning her waist between them as planted against the sensitive spot of my neck.  I mentally cursed myself for being so weak.  However, my secret had been discovered and my reaction provided only incentive for her to uncover more.

She mauled me like a vampiress.

I moaned.

Then I covered my face in humiliation at my lack of self-control.  Dear God, what was she doing to me?

I shivered. 

Were her fingers really grazing my side?

She bit my shoulder.

A gasp sounded and nails dug into her scalp, earning from the enticing beauty a seductive groan.

.

The feeling in the pit of my abdomen, the desire to hear her moan my name, the way my body trembled when she touched me… how did this even start?

My thoughts were cut short as the hem of my shirt crept up my abdomen.  Wet but firm kisses travelled across my goosebumped skin.  A grip on my thighs garnered a pull at her hair.  Fingers slipped under my shorts.

“Stop.”

She looked at me, I looked at her, one breathlessly spoken word standing between us; both of us panting, both of us red, both of us desperate—but only one of us willing.  She bit her lip, her eyes exploring mine.  I closed them. 

“I’m not ready,” I confessed in a soft sigh, unable to look at her.

“Me neither,” she whispered, her forehead finding my shoulder.

The muscles in my jaw clenched.  She lied for my benefit.

Softly I her hair, she pecked my cheek, and then stood abruptly after fixing my shirt.  She grabbed her bag and made for my door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She turned and smiled prettily at me.  “Bet on it,” she sang, blowing me a goodbye kiss before stepping from my house.

As soon as the door shut behind her my head found the armrest of the sofa, my face covered and my head spinning.  My fingers skimmed down to my neck.  It was sore.  And her groan was echoing in my e