Chapter V (Part A).

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“Come on Krys, I’ll buy you your favorite fruit?”

“But…”

“What was it again? Pears?”

“Unnie…I like strawberries,”

---

( Where are you? Are you okay? Please be safe, unnie is waiting for you Krys. )
Sender: Jessica-unnie.
Received: 11:35:16 pm
Received: 03/15/12

Krystal had typed her message quickly, hoping to respond so her sister wouldn’t worry anymore, but hurriedly retracted as soon as she felt Tiffany loom over her shoulder again.

She flinched away, instinctively clutching her phone against her chest as she looked up at curious dark eyes.

Krystal couldn’t help but stutter, “W – What?”

Tiffany had merely shrugged as she adjusted her umbrella over the two of them, “What’s wrong?”

“You know,” Krystal began, shoving her phone in her pocket. “Personal privacy?”

Tiffany only laughed and Krystal figured she would tell her sister later; when Tiffany wasn’t as curious.

---

“Here,” Tiffany plopped a pile of clothes in her hands, leaving Krystal a little stunned before she was able to compose herself once more. “You can use these for now, so go shower.”

Krystal was frustrated with herself when she couldn’t contain the sudden heat that rose to her cheeks at the sight of Tiffany’s lingerie (which she was going to have to wear in a few minutes) in her hands.

So she coughed – choked, really – as she shyly returned Tiffany’s wide smile.

“...Thanks,”

And she meant it as she made her way down the hall towards the bathroom, Tiffany’s gentle chuckle of ‘You’re welcome,’ echoing down the corridor.

When Krystal locked the door behind her, resting her back against it, she allowed a tired sigh to escape her lips.

She took her time to scan the restroom, noting how neat and organized everything was. It didn’t escape Krystal how empty it felt, though. There were only a few materials, really. They consisted of a shampoo and conditioner, toothpaste, and a toothbrush.

...She lives alone,

Krystal motioned to move in front of the large mirror, and inwardly cringed at how terrible she looked. Strands of her dark hair sticking messily over her face, clothes so drenched it was almost see-through (though she hoped Tiffany didn’t really see anything), and her make-up was slightly running.

She wondered what Tiffany must have thought of her upon sight.

Krystal released another heavy sigh as she ran her fingers through her hair before resting her hands on the sink, leaning against it. She closed her eyes to jog her memory.

From what she can remember, Tiffany’s house was currently empty, save for some furniture here and there. The only things that really occupied the living room were shelves filled with picture frames; some facing up, others facing down. There was a long single couch though, and an old tv set sat across from it.

Krystal couldn’t quite remember how the kitchen looked in comparison, except that it didn’t appear as lacking. Although, there seemed to be fewer utensils than what Krystal would deem sufficient in her own home.

She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the fridge didn’t have much food, either.

Removing herself of her clothes, she cleared her jumbled mind as water began to pour over her head.

---

“Sooyeon?”

Jessica flinched as soon as she heard her mother’s sharp tone, quietly shutting the door behind her. Her father didn’t follow after they got out of the car, preferring to remain outside for a smoke instead.

Or had he already known her mother was waiting on the other side of the door?

Jessica bit her bottom lip, knowing how she must currently look like with her dress horribly drenched and feet scathed from the harsh texture of gravel.

Jessica knew she looked pretty pathetic in her mother’s eyes considering she had her hair so thin from the water it stuck to her face, her dress gripped tightly against her petite form, and she was completely bare feet.

She gulped, cringing from the dryness of , before meekly looking up at sharp dark pools of brown.

“M – Mom…” Jessica struggled to keep her gaze locked with her mother’s, before giving up all together to settle her eyes instead to the marble floor.

She was shivering, her arms no doubt visibly shaking as she tried to steady herself. Her hands were balled into fists, trying to suppress how vulnerable she looked, especially in front of her mother.

Jessica instinctively shut her eyes when she heard the older woman’s steel steps slap the floor, her taller figure looming closer to her.

As soon as she felt her mother’s fingers cradle her chin, she flinched back, letting out a strained whimper through her chapped lips. Jessica didn’t mean to, but it was merely reflex because she knew how disappointed her mother felt like at the moment, seeing her like this.

Jessica could only close her eyes even tighter when her mother’s hand cradled her right cheek, feeling her other hand brush away the strands of hair sticking to her face.

She hesitantly began to open her eyes, before feeling her mother’s fingers clear away the remaining wet strands from her forehead and brows.

Her mother’s thumb lingered over Jessica’s right brow as the older woman whispered, seemingly distant. “I’m just glad you’re home…” and her voice made Jessica look up to return her gaze.

Jessica wasn’t sure what to say, thoughts escaping her and words fading from her lips, as her mother flitted her thumb across her right cheek. She couldn’t read her mother’s dark eyes which looked so far away.

“Clean up and go to sleep,” she mumbled quietly, Jessica meekly responding with a confused gaze. “We’ll talk in the morning.” Her mother finished sternly.

And just as fast did Jessica feel actual warmth emit from her mother’s touches, her mother had let go, turning her back on her to disappear into the kitchen, leaving her cold once more.

---

When she left the washroom, adorning Tiffany’s clothes, Krystal fidgeted when she met Tiffany’s amused gaze.

Almost instinctively, she clutched her wet clothes against herself a little closer as Tiffany moved towards her.

“Fits you well?” The older woman asked, and Krystal felt her cheeks burn as she avoided her gaze.

Krystal cleared so she wouldn’t stutter, “Yeah, thanks.”

She fiddled with the collar of her dress shirt – Tiffany’s – dress shirt, feeling shy because her legs were showing and she was never too showy with others – much less strangers-turned-friends – to begin with. Although she was used to wearing boxer shorts and dress shirts at home, the feeling was entirely different considering they belonged to someone else.

Krystal meekly looked up when Tiffany loomed closer, still able to smell tinges of rain on the latter, as the older woman grasped her wet clothes from her hands.

“I’ll take care of these,” she said lightly, and Krystal hid behind curtains of her dark hair when she felt Tiffany pat her head gently. “So make yourself at home while I go wash up myself, okay?”

Krystal could only respond with a shy nod as Tiffany withdrew her hand, making her instantly miss the affectionate gesture as the older woman walked away.

She released a shaky breath, her trembling nerves slowly dissipating as she eyed her surroundings. The only reason she was as nervous as she was, was because she had never been to someone else’s home – unless they were family, of course – so she didn’t know the proper etiquette of being a guest.

When the emptiness of Tiffany’s home began to actually sink in her head, Krystal felt concern gradually ebb at her insides.

…Is she just as lonely..?

Krystal slowly motioned towards the center of the living room, noting the picture frames that hung on the white walls. Like she remembered, some were placed on shelves while others lay faced down.

Naturally, she was curious. Krystal would have found it slightly normal if a row of frames were all put down, but in a single row, some were and others weren’t. She had instinctively thought it had something to do with organization.

Moving closer, she reached out to lift one up, but paused as soon as she touched the frame, thinking better of it. She would be trespassing.

…Don’t, she warned herself.

Krystal retracted her hand and left for the kitchen, but made sure to stow away her thoughts for later. When she opened the fridge, she knew there wasn’t going to be much inside.

How does she eat…?

She immediately presumed the older woman lived on take-out.

Feeling the want to return the favor, Krystal scanned the refrigerator in search of ingredients to make a meal, before pulling them out with a small smile.

It was the least she could do.

“Krys…?”

She jolted, nearly dropping the carton of eggs she was carrying before the older woman held the other end. Krystal could instantly breathe in the smell of her shampoo, the distance between them so little.

Instinctively, she in a breath, inhaling even more of Tiffany’s scent as the older woman took the carton from her shaky hands.

…Strawberries,

“Careful,” her husky voice rang loud in her ears, and Krystal knew they were a lot closer than she could honestly handle.

Quickly, she avoided the older woman’s curious gaze as she settled her own fidgeting eyes on the carton of eggs that Tiffany held. Remaining unresponsive, simply because she can’t trust herself to speak, she watched Tiffany settle the carton on the counter top.

“Are you hungry?” Tiffany probed, looking over her shoulder so she could see Krystal.

Krystal had to restrain herself from getting any redder than she already was, gripping tightly against the end of her sleeve. She coughed into her hand to stave off the dryness in , before hesitantly returning Tiffany’s gaze.

“I want to cook you something,”

That wasn’t how she wanted to reply. At all.

Understandably, Krystal felt overwhelmingly shy when Tiffany chuckled.

“If you want to,” and watched her walk to her before patting her lightly on the shoulder, “go ahead. As long as you don’t mind,”

Not trusting herself to speak anymore, Krystal could only nod before looking up to see those inverted crescents being sent her way.

She realized then, how Tiffany’s dark hair was still damp, her white towel draped loosely around her neck. Krystal’s eyes lingered even when Tiffany began to walk away, the older woman casually drying her hair.

Tiffany sported on black sweat pants and a long-sleeved grey sweater. Despite being fully clothed (which Krystal found incredibly unfair considering what she made her wear at the moment), Krystal could still see the slim outline of the older woman’s figure.

She turned away, heat flaring her cheeks once more as soon as she realized what she was doing. Krystal really hoped cracking the eggs would at least keep her mind from wandering.

“Sorry about that, by the way.” Krystal didn’t turn to look at Tiffany when the latter spoke, “for scaring you, and the lack of ingredients.”

Krystal didn’t let the window of opportunity slip by, so she asked almost immediately.

“Why is that, anyway?” She didn’t mean to sound as aggressive as she did then, and was about to even reword what she said when Tiffany’s laughter filled the air.

“I can’t cook,” she said gently, and that made Krystal spin around to look at her, spotting Tiffany’s wide smile. “That’s why.”

Krystal didn’t stop herself in time when she responded, “I can cook for you,” and she turned her attention back to the tomato she was currently cutting, realizing that her knife was dangerously too close to her fingers. “If you’d like, sometimes.”

She didn’t want to look back to see Tiffany’s eyes, so she unconsciously began to dice the poor vegetable at a faster pace than she normally would have. The silence that continued to envelope them felt excruciatingly long, and Krystal didn’t like it considering she was already done cutting.

She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding when Tiffany spoke with a chuckle, “As long as you don’t mind,” and Krystal could hear the amusement that currently laced her rasp tone. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten an actual home-cooked meal.”

Krystal didn’t miss the tint of sorrow that spilled from her lips as silence cradled the air once again.

She played with the words in her head before she let them rise from , feeling hesitant.

“…Don’t you get lonely..?”

Krystal had wanted to ask as soon as she had set foot into Tiffany’s home; the empty rooms and lonesome pictures irking her. It was a significant contrast to Tiffany’s seemingly happy-go-lucky persona.

“I do, quite often.” Krystal paused her hand, vaguely watching the eggs sizzle on the pan as her ears quirked to listen. “But I’m used to it,”

…Are you really? Was what Krystal wanted to truly ask.

“Besides,” Tiffany continued as Krystal flipped the eggs with ease, “the less things I have, the less work I have to do tidying up.”

But Tiffany’s wry chuckle felt hollow to Krystal as she reached out to shut off the stove. She figured they should change the topic again, so she probed innocently.

“Where are the plates?” She asked, searching all over the counter.

“Top right cabinet,” Tiffany chirped lightly as Krystal heard the older woman flip through various channels on her television, the sounds coming out chopped and distorted.

When Krystal settled everything neatly and organized, she felt a wide smile curve against her lips.

“All done, Tiff.”

She waved her hand hurriedly to take it back as soon as she saw Tiffany suddenly pause in her motion, the latter’s eyes wide in surprise.

“Sorry, I mean – “

Tiffany had merely chuckled again, seemingly having gathered herself, before settling in the chair across from Krystal on the small circular table.

She watched the older woman wave a dismissive hand, “It was nothing,” but Krystal knew better and Tiffany noticed before she expanded further. “My ex used to call me that, and I haven’t heard it in a while, so – “

“ – Sorry,” Krystal hurriedly apologized again, “I won’t use it if you – “

“ – If I can’t use ‘Krys’, in return.”

And she remained motionless as Tiffany sent her another smile across from her.

She eyed the way the older woman twirled her spoon between her fingers, “It’s only fair, right?” she asked gently, “I don’t mind ‘Tiff’ as long as I’m allowed to call you ‘Krys’.”

Krystal merely swallowed the sudden lump in , feeling abashed yet again. She fiddled with the hem of her shorts – Tiffany’s boxer shorts – beneath the table before replying meekly in response.

“S – Sure!” She cursed herself inwardly for sounding as lame as she did at that moment, but Tiffany’s genuine smile alleviated the tremor rising in her system.

When silence enveloped them once more, Krystal watched with apprehension when Tiffany took her first bite. It felt painfully long, as if time suddenly ticked in slow-motion, as Tiffany chewed slowly.

Seeing her swallow, Krystal held her breath as Tiffany spoke thoughtfully.

“How long have you been cooking?”

Krystal replied without thinking twice of it, “Ever since my sister told me she was a disaster in the kitchen,”

She didn’t know why, but somehow, Tiffany seemed to deliberately make her speak. She watched Tiffany wryly smile, before chewing another spoonful.

“Your sister can’t cook?”

Krystal pursed her lips but feigned ignorance as she took a bite herself. She took her time chewing before swallowing to respond, “No,”

She could see the next words form on the tip of Tiffany’s lips, feeling dread wash over her before Krystal turned the topic around.

“Why are some pictures facing down?”

It was impulsive, she knew, but she was afraid of the next set of questions Tiffany would have asked had she not intercepted.

And she was right when Tiffany seemed to be gathering herself once more, looking slightly stunned. Krystal knew she threw the older woman’s train of thought off its course, but she nonetheless felt relieved.

It didn’t last long though, after seeing Tiffany’s smile turn wistful, her dark eyes suddenly distant.

“They’re the moments I don’t have in my life right now,”

And Krystal looked down to hide her face, feeling unsure of how to respond. She picked at her food, trying to kill time, before hearing Tiffany’s voice ring again in the kitchen.

“It’s not like I can’t bring them back, though.” And Krystal returned her gaze to meet Tiffany’s, “I’ve just lost them, for the moment.” She finished gently before taking another spoonful.

Krystal furrowed her brows then, her mind processing what Tiffany had said. When she connected the dots, she couldn’t help but speak up.

“So then those facing up…”

“Are either in my life right now,” Tiffany continued for her, “or they’ve already passed on.” And Krystal did not miss the flicker of pain that briefly flashed in Tiffany’s eyes. “…like mom,”

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything after, so she took another bite, the silence looming over them in the air again.

“She was the reason I went back home, a year ago.” Krystal looked up, meeting Tiffany’s wry smile, and the younger girl couldn’t help but return it. “I never told her that, though.”

It took Krystal a moment before she realized that Tiffany was referring to her ex-girlfriend.

“Why not..?” Krystal coughed into her hand, trying to avoid stuttering.

She watched Tiffany chew another mouthful, her eyes still far away. Krystal wasn’t sure what to do when the older woman’s line of vision remained steady on her form, feeling fidgety.

“By then, we were already broken.”

Krystal remained quiet as Tiffany stood from her seat, putting her plate in the sink. She heard water begin to run before the clanks of glass resounded in her ears. Krystal pursed her lips, words left on the tip of her tongue, before she asked.

“When did you get back?”

Krystal gently placed her plate beside Tiffany, watching the older woman wash their dishes silently. She discreetly stared at the older woman’s side profile, unknowingly beginning to memorize the contour lines of Tiffany’s jaw.

Krystal turned her gaze away as soon as Tiffany’s eyes met hers, the older woman grinning as she craned her neck to the side. Tiffany leaned slightly forward, her hands still holding onto the plate as she mechanically washed.

The sudden close proximity made Krystal lower her head so her eyes hid behind her long black hair, a mock shield, to protect herself from Tiffany’s smiling eyes.

Krystal felt invisible strings gently tug at her heart.

“The day I first met you,”

---

When she realized that Tiffany was taking some pillows and blankets out of her bedroom and out into the living room, Krystal hurriedly stopped her, placing a hand on the older woman’s wrist.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll sleep outsi – “

“You’re the guest,” Tiffany spoke with a grin, shuffling away from Krystal’s grip. “It’s only right to have the host provide for the guest,”

“But – “

Tiffany merely shooed her away with a wave of her hand as she plopped herself on the couch.

“So go sleep. My bed is quite comfortable, you know.”

Krystal would have said ‘then why not share?’ but refrained, feeling heat rise to her cheeks again, thinking better of it.

Gripping the knob to Tiffany’s room, she paused, not turning to meet the older woman’s eyes as she spoke under her breath.

“G – Goodnight,” Krystal squeaked, before rushing in and shutting the door quickly behind her.

Despite such an embarrassing stunt she just pulled, Krystal allowed a smile to grace her lips as she leaned her head back against the wooden door.

She could vividly hear the rapid drumming in her chest that continued to quake inside her. Krystal heard Tiffany’s muffled ‘sweet dreams’, accompanied with her signature rasp chuckle, from the other side of the door.

She held her chest to somehow subdue the tremor in her heart, the smooth material of her dress shirt – Tiffany’s dress shirt – flitting between the spaces of her fingers.

Breathing out, Krystal motioned towards the large mattress across from her, before catching sight of something red on the table top beside it.

Walking towards it, she spotted another picture facing down beside the large mirror on Tiffany’s dresser, the red tangled string tied on the hook of the frame.

She cradled the thin piece of string between her fingers, wondering why it was even there to begin with.

…Should I?

Gently, Krystal flit her fingers across the black frame, feeling dust comb beneath her skin. It hasn’t been touched for a while, from the amount of grey plaguing the faded black surface. She held her breath when she attempted to lift it ever so slightly, but there wasn’t enough of a gap to properly see what the picture was underneath.

Krystal hesitated lifting it any further before finally making her mind and slowly lowering it back on the dresser, retracting her hand from the dusty frame.

She couldn’t.

Krystal didn’t dare invade any more of the woman’s privacy.

Settling herself on the bed, a sugary scent infiltrated her senses. It only grew stronger when she pulled the blanket over herself, getting an even larger whiff of it as Krystal wiggled herself beneath the covers.

Lifting it so the blanket lay just over her chin, Krystal couldn’t help but inhale again, gathering nothing but that sweet scent. It didn’t help when she had shut her eyes and rubbed her cheek against the pillow, another wave engulfing her.

It was almost intoxicating.

Her chest began to pound hard again and Krystal didn’t refrain herself from cuddling against another pillow, trying to quell her loud heart. The scent mercilessly wafted through her nose as she nuzzled her face into the cotton material.

Feeling slumber gradually take her, Krystal realized how nice it was to sleep with the smell of strawberries.