What do you feel about her?

It was already late into the night when that perfect stranger popped a question I had been contemplating for a while.

The question should be: what don’t I feel for her?

Because these feelings I hold inside are threatening to suffocate me at any time; and I open my shirt, even though it has nothing to do with the invisible line tightening around my neck.

Does she know?

Does she? I’d rather believe otherwise every time she kisses him before my eyes – my fingernails carving so hard into the palm of my hands they almost bleed, because I could not withstand my smile any other way.

It wouldn’t change much.

I’d still be sitting right here – four stools away from where a petite blonde had been an hour ago; the same sour taste of cheap scotch in my mouth and the sound of her voice carved into every pour. If I hadn’t known the bride, would I have been miles away making some red head’s body mine?

What would she do if she did?

In my mind? She kisses my lips for the first time; I melt into her arms – and for a change, I become the sunshine in her life; instead of the faded moonlight.

Nothing close to what I picture in my wildest dreams at night.

I let my imagination run wild – my hands against her bare milky skin; my name escaping from her lips – that’s all I’ll ever have.

Can’t dreams come to life?

This time I scoff – a similar feel of frustration some other girl had felt earlier – wouldn’t it be so heavenly to have her even just for a night?

Not mine.

And I had so many; each one a different picture of her – a million words that would forever remain chained up in the corners of my heart.

Where is she right now?

Exploring inches of pleasure in the dark; shuffling wildly at the mercy of her own slender fingers – thinking of him; perhaps thinking of me.

Go meet her.

He repeated the words he had earlier said to another lovestruck fool; a wiser fool than me that such words did not move – my mind is already too fueled with regretful decisions half alcohol driven.

Room 221 – 7^th floor.

Seven floors above and knocking on her door I could almost hear her screams cutting through the night; filling up my soul, making me overflow.

What am I gonna do with you, Byul Yi?

My name sounded so good when she whispered it like that; and she looked so lovely in that night gown that concealed so little – the light pink underwear only made me shiver and tremble for more.

Anything you want.

I got lost in the night, playing hide and seek under the moonlight; hoping not to burn when she becomes a dream to let go of at sunrise.
 

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A/N: I honestly don't know where did these drabbles come from, but I hope you enjoy them ~

You can find TaeNy - or rather Taeyeon's counterpart here.