Summary: Tiffany wants Taeyeon, and Taeyeon wants Tiffany. But there's a difference.

Category: Angst, fluff, a touch of y

[Just one night couldn’t be so wrong]

“Are you sure?”
 

“Shhh.” Taeyeon throws your shirt across the room and takes hold of the button on your jeans. “No more talking.”
 

“But-“ Taeyeon steals your next words with a kiss, and the dizzying rush of soft hands on your hair and a wet tongue in your mouth messes with your verbal ability for the next few hours, until all you’re capable of are gasps, moans, and falling apart.

[The light that fell on me]

It’s different in the morning light.
 

Her hair is lighter, and her eyes are clearer. You’re still not sure if you prefer it to the ebony strands that you can pull on as much as you want, or the darkened eyes that keep you prisoner until they close when she finds her release with you.
 

But then she laughs, and the light catches her face just right.
 

And now you feel selfish because you think you want both sides of her.

[One last time]

You didn’t know that it would be the last. She doesn’t look at you any different, and she kisses you the way she usually does: passionate, all-consuming, unforgettable.
 

If you had known, you would’ve kissed her harder. You would’ve lasted longer—although Taeyeon knows your body so well that this feat is almost impossible.
 

She knows what your lust wants, what makes and breaks you between her body and the sheets, but your heart calls for her, too. It begs to be known, too.
 

But it’s too late.

[You bleed just to know you’re alive]

Taeyeon tells you she’s met someone. A friend for now, but Taeyeon hopes it can become more.
 

She tells you this, then proceeds to describe to you the color of her hair, the shape of her nose, the dimple in her smile. And it’s awful.
 

Your heart seizes, your eyes water, and it’s horrible how you can’t even be happy for her.
 

She talks about the girl, and she doesn’t tell you outright, but you know. You know she’s telling you that she can’t do the late night rendezvous anymore.
 

You wish that your heart had spoken louder and overpowered your brain. Maybe you would’ve asked Taeyeon for a chance before she had met this girl with the dimples and the smile.
 

Instead, you say you’re happy for her, even when you’re not. You bid her goodbye, even when you don’t want to. You sob and fall apart in the comfort of Yuri’s arms, even though you have no right to.

[In case you didn’t know]

You’re drunk and stupid, and you go to her house and confess that you maybe-kind-of love her.
 

When you rack your brains for your memories of that night, you don’t remember much of anything, but you do recall the shock on her face and the pity.
 

The stupid pity makes you walk away, even when she’s calling out your name behind your back. It makes you vomit beside a lamp post—or maybe that was just because of the tequila.

[Regrets collect like old friends]

You avoid her, for all eternity if that were possible. But after two days, she seeks you out and confronts you just as you’re taking out the trash.
 

You shift from one foot to another, aware that she’s never seen you in a simple hoodie and sweats before, and you feel even more disgusted with yourself.
 

She looks confused, and it’s cute and it makes you want to hug her, but you dig your nails into your skin because you don’t have the privilege to have her in your arms anymore.
 

Taeyeon tells you that she wants to talk, and even though you’re in terrible heartbreaking pain and feel trashier than the trash you’re holding, you know that she deserves an explanation.

[I’m not giving up; I’m just giving in]

She asks you when it began.
 

You say that she has a different kind of beauty in the daylight, and you wanted to witness it more.
 

She blinks in surprise at that, maybe not expecting such an honest answer.
 

She asks you why you didn’t say anything.
 

You tell her you felt like you didn’t deserve a chance.
 

She asks you to elaborate.
 

You tell her you don’t even know what her favorite color is. Nor her favorite food. You tell her you didn’t even try to get to know her besides what makes her writhe in bed (she turns red at this, and your heart beats faster knowing that you even have as simple as that of an effect on her).
 

She rebuts and says that she doesn’t know your preferences either.
 

”It’s pink. And grilled eel.”
 

She smiles. “Mine’s blue. And it’s cold noodles.”
 

You smile back, happy that you can treasure the fact that you know Taeyeon a little more now. But you remember that she’s with someone else, and your smile falters. It’s too late, and you wish it weren’t.
 

You trace with your eyes the shadows on her face, mesmerized by how the light in your kitchen makes Taeyeon beautiful. Then it hits you that Taeyeon's just beautiful. Period. It’s not the lighting. It’s never been about the lighting.
 

Taeyeon asks you if you’re free for breakfast, and you gape at her like a fish out of water.
 

“You deserve a chance, Tiffany. And I want a chance too.”

FIN.

A/N:

I just read this fic (it's JeTi, but if you're not disgusted by that, I suggest you read it!) and I was so inspired by the writing style, so yep, I totally copied it lol. This was supposed to end angsty, but I was suddenly making Tiff so adorable (!!!), so I couldn't break her heart.

A Tiff POV (or more like a Taeyeonxyou in this case, but duh the 'you' is totally Tiffany) is a rare find, and always a gift when executed properly, so I did my take on it as well. Will edit this properly later.

Hope you enjoyed!