Tiffany was most certainly not buzzed, not even a little.  Her second drink was still in her hand, only a quarter gone, and it took a lot more than that to get Miss Hwang going.  Taeyeon, on the other hand, was feeling something.  That was the only explanation Tiffany had for the dopey grin plastered on her friend’s face and Taeyeon’s hand, which had somehow landed on her waist.  Tiffany was grateful Taeyeon finally seemed to be having some fun.

Taeyeon’s other hand, long since abandoning its empty glass, ghosted over Tiffany’s shoulder before delicate fingers gripped tight, palm over Tiffany’s collarbone.

They were close enough that Tiffany could feel the heat rising from Taeyeon’s body, could see the miniscule beads of sweat glistening along her hairline, could smell the alcohol on her breath.  Even under the cascade of flashing lights, Tiffany saw the blush flooding Taeyeon’s cheeks.  They locked eyes and moved in sync; Taeyeon’s eyes were glazed, lids half-closed, but still so intense; she seemed oblivious to the din around them.  Tiffany found that her own hands mirrored Taeyeon’s, one on her hip and her other wrist resting on Taeyeon’s shoulder; she didn’t remember placing them there.  She couldn’t tell if that was her heart pounding against her ribcage or if it was just the music.

For a small eternity, they danced.  Taeyeon slid closer against her, until Tiffany’s neck rested in the crook of Taeyeon’s elbow, and Tiffany could feel the curve of s against her own, could feel Taeyeon breathing faster.

.  She thought about pulling away, breaking the spell, but found that she couldn’t.  Her body wasn’t responding, like her nerves were severed.  Her breath caught in her chest; she could feel sweat forming on her palm and wrist, slick against Taeyeon’s skin.  She was so warm, on fire.

Then Taeyeon kissed her.