Night had fallen. Jessica wasn’t sure if she had fallen asleep—the numbness of her limbs and the dryness of indicated so—but the next time she came to, the hospital room was significantly darker, and the glowing numbers on her phone told her it was about two at night. There was someone curled up on the sofa, about a metre or so from where Jessica sat beside the hospital cot. She squinted at the lump which shifted as if it sensed her watching, and a blanket fell away to reveal a girl with long blonde hair, mussed and tumbling over slight shoulders.

“Hey.” The voice was sleepy, familiar in its warmth.

“Hmm,” Jessica mumbled. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago.” Taeyeon nodded at Jessica’s hand, still enclosed around her grandfather’s. Her eyes blinked owlishly in the dark at Jessica. “Can you even feel your hand at this point?”

Jessica gently pulled away from her sleeping grandfather and curled her fingers experimentally, wincing as she felt pinpricks of blood stabbing her nerves. “Not really,” she admitted softly. “And I think my ’s dead too.”

The both of them laughed quietly, the sound light in the darkened room, and Jessica smiled at the familiar entwining of their laughter, warm and golden and bright. 

“Come over here,” Taeyeon motioned, shifting over to make space on the sofa as she patted the spot beside her. Her voice was low—careful, muted in case they woke their grandfather. “That looks really uncomfortable.”

“Ugh,” Jessica confirmed, crawled onto the sofa, curling up into the space warmed by Taeyeon’s body heat only seconds before.

“Better?”

“Yeah.” Jessica closed her eyes, leaning her head back. “Why did you come so late?”

“Schedules,” Taeyeon yawned. “I was at an event, so I had to rush straight here.”

Jessica paused. “I’m surprised you came at all,” she admitted quietly. “I would have thought that you would want nothing to do with harabeoji after all this time.”

It had never been easy for Taeyeon in their family, and Jessica, of all people, was the most aware of that. As the privileged grandchild, their grandfather’s blatant favourite, Jessica had always received the family patriarch’s favour whereas Taeyeon had been ostracised all her life by no fault of her own. She wondered why Taeyeon still cared even though their grandfather had made it clear many times that he didn’t.

Taeyeon was silent for a long moment. Perhaps she, like Jessica, was trying to figure it out.

“I can’t help it,” Taeyeon said at last. She was staring ahead, looking right at their grandfather lying motionless on the hospital cot and there was no bitterness in her voice, no resentment in her eyes. She lowered them to her hands, folded limply in her lap. “I can’t help caring about him. He’s family, no matter what he says. Harabeoji’s still my real family.” There was no anger; only sadness and hollow acceptance.

Jessica had always admired Taeyeon for her calmness, her patience, and at that moment she felt a warm burst of affection tinged with pity for her cousin. They had never really talked about it—had always circumvented the conversation—and Taeyeon had never mentioned her harsh treatment directly. But she had never said that she never hated her grandfather for it either, so Jessica had always wondered.

The both of them were silent for a moment, Jessica staring at her cousin thoughtfully, Taeyeon gazing at nothingness with an empty look in her eyes that had appeared more frequently ever since she had become an idol. Jessica recognised that look as one Taeyeon wore in the presence of company when she was tired and barely even there, yet still clinging on to consciousness. She frowned, cautiously reaching out to brush Taeyeon’s bangs away from her face. 

“Do you get enough sleep?”

“That’s a good one.” Taeyeon’s answering smile was automatic, somewhat plastic and so much more forced than it used to be even when she had been ignored at the dinner table during family dinners or snapped at for no reason at all. Taeyeon had always been exceptionally talented at feigning happiness, but even her smiles had become more like a mask or perfunctory gesture than an expression of happiness. “If you ask most idols what they want the most, sleep would probably right at the top of that list before awards and fans and recognition.”

“Well, you have all of the last three so maybe it’s time to work on sleep,” Jessica grinned, watching her carefully.

Taeyeon laughed then, a gentler, quieter sound than the one she was famous for, but a familiar sound nonetheless, and Jessica smiled in relief. “I will once promotions are over.”

“Congratulations on the music show awards, by the way,” Jessica said affectionately. She patted Taeyeon’s arm and smiled; Taeyeon smiled back, a little wan but soft and sincere. Jessica’s heart swelled—she had always been exceptionally close to Tiffany even as children, and they had a special friendship, but Jessica and Taeyeon had always been more alike than not, and perhaps that was why Jessica loved Taeyeon so much. “I’m pretty sure I spent at least fifty thousand won on texts to support you!”

“Thanks a lot,” Taeyeon snorted. “I’ll make sure to mention you in my next acceptance speech.”

They laughed outright despite knowing well enough that would never happen. Jessica quietened, wrapping an arm around Taeyeon, and her cousin leaned into her touch. Taeyeon’s face was lined with sleep from earlier, and her hair was a mess and she looked very much like a child. Jessica moved slightly, gen