Stephanie was adamant about helping. After her emotional release, I’d have thought (hoped) the idea would have slipped her mind.

She didn’t forget.

She brought it up again one morning, even going as far as loudly announcing her intentions when the grave master was busy with his carving project. Of course, the response she received was merely a raised brow and a noncommittal grunt, something she decided was affirmative.

The moment the grave master passed a sheet of paper, face scrunched in disgust at the preceding pastor, Stephanie pounced. She had half dragged me to the entrance with nothing but the piece of paper. After a short argument, ended by the grave master’s gruff order (Take the damn woman with you!), we set off. Thankfully, I managed to find the old shovel that used to be the old man’s possession. It had rusted over the years of disuse, but it would do.

With the two of us working, it took us a marginally shorter time to get the job done. Stephanie listened well and would follow all my instructions diligently and without question. If she had any complaints she kept it to herself and opted to work in silence. The noon sun beat at our backs and made the shirt she wore stick to her sweaty back. Thankfully, she took off the heavy long coat before working, saying something about keeping it neat as she hung it over a low hanging tree branch nearby.

I found it hard to concentrate on my work as my eyes would occasionally wander towards Stephanie. Her determined face, with perspiration beading at her forehead and a smudge of dirt on her cheek, was too cute not to ogle at. Before I know it we had already achieved the optimum depth for the burial. Stephanie beamed at her accomplishment. I shook my head at her and helped her up.

The ceremony was a small one. There was only five present during the reading. There was Stephanie and me, and the third was the pudgy father. The other two was a weeping elderly woman, her sobs nearly drowning out father’s voice, and a young woman who held onto the other’s arms, vacantly staring at the body resting peacefully on the thin ply of wood over the cloth.

Throughout the father’s monotonous reading Stephanie fidgeted uncomfortably beside me, her eyes bouncing in between the two women and the empty grave. I knew she wanted to do more than wait patiently by the side. I knew she wanted to console the two women but didn’t want to disturb the reading, or possibly get told off by the father. I also knew that if she so much as stepped one inch to the side of where she stood, father Dumbo would snap at her to ‘know her place’, from first-hand experience.

As soon as the father finished with a loud ‘Amen’ we moved to the next process. I’ve told her beforehand what she needed to do, and without fail she directed herself to her task, once in a while throwing glances at the women talking with the pastor.

As she moved to retrieve her spade I grabbed her arm. She looked back at me, cocking her head to the side curiously. I know where she would best befit this procession, and it was not with me. With an encouraging smile, I motioned at the three people talking in hushed voices a few feet away.

By the time I ended my duty the women were far less depressing as before. They talked in hushed voices still, but their expressions were a little brighter, a little more accepting, as they conversed with Stephanie. Even the pastor looked impressed, contented to listen for the time being.

Stephanie’s eyes found mine. I tried to tell her not to worry, to take her time, but she had already said her goodbyes, shaking both women’s hands and gave a slight nod of her head to the priest.

“You could talk to them longer, you know? I don’t mind waiting.” I tell her as soon as she reached my side. She takes a quick glance at them before shaking her head.

“I do. Besides, I’ve already said my bit. They were just recounting days long past. The good days, you know.”

I nod my head, not in agreement but more just so I had something to do. “It’s good to remember the good days.” I say, for Stephanie's sake. I tried to think of a good memory, but nothing really pops out. I don’t recall my parents face. In fact, I have no memory of anything before the orphanage. I have always been there as far as I can remember, and it’s not really the best place to form good memories. The nuns were strict, but not all of them were fair.

“It is.” Stephanie smiles softly.

“Let’s go then.” I say, putting an end to that conversation as I start my way back. Stephanie’s hand slips into my free one and she sends me a toothy grin when I look back at her. She swings our hands as she keeps pace.

The grave master seems pleased at our arrangement. He doesn’t say it out loud, but I see approval in the way he acts. He seems less rigid than before, nodding at Stephanie in greeting whereas before he wouldn’t pay her any mind.

Stephanie, on the other hand, is plenty pleased with herself. I know she doesn’t like the idea of the burial; she is mostly stone faced during the process, but she sympathises openly with the ones left behind, which the pastors are all approving off. They were never really good with comforting people, always referring to the words from the great book as if anyone could have a copy of the Bible by their bedside drawers. It’s as if they’ve forgotten what it’s like outside of the monastery.

As the leaves turned orange to the coming of fall, Stephanie has completely adapted to living life with the Master and me. She rises the second I do, tends to the chores as I do, labours under the stinging heat of the sun right beside me. Having her with me has become so natural that I can’t even think back to a time when she wasn’t. We’ve become too comfortable with each other. Some nights she would sneak under the covers with me, whispering in low voices about anything and everything until sleep beckons us to the land of dreams.

The first few nights I could barely sleep a wink, knowing and feeling her body pressed up against my own made it impossible. On the night that I have succumbed to sleep I woke up refreshed, feeling like there was nothing I couldn’t do. And with her right next to me, she became my source of energy. She doesn’t sap it away like the others but gives me more than enough to get me through the day.

Having her with me makes me forget the roughness of the world, the wars, the famine slowly seeping through the country. She was beginning to feel like an integral part of my life, and I couldn’t even begin to think of a future without her by my side.

A split pain from my finger rouses me from my daydream. Turning my hand to the light I see the small rivulet of blood streaming from the thin cut that ran diagonally from the top of my thumb down half an inch. The dark blood seeps into half formed wooden carving in my hand and that’s when it occurs to me that I should stop the bleeding. I put the carving knife and my carving on the table, immediately popping my thumb into my mouth, the coppery taste spreading through my tongue. A tiny nick, shouldn’t take too long for it to stop bleeding. It’s such a waste of cloth to mend to it anyway.

I look to my creation. It was starting to take form, exactly as the master had demonstrated. The top curved into a spherical form, beginning to show the head of my wooden carving. I wanted to make it into a surprise gift for Stephanie. But since she goes everywhere I am she has already seen me working on it. Luckily, she doesn’t know I’m making it for her. I know she tries her best to take a peek at my work but her advances are hindered by the dark force that was the master.

My gaze flies over to her, buzzing busily around the small kitchen, I suspect to check up on our supplies. Over the past few months she’s been with us she has proven to be quite the responsible young woman. She was doing an even better job of looking after us than I have.

“Taeyeon?” Her smooth voice calls out to me.

I pluck my thumb from my mouth and hum.

“Can we go to town later? We’re short on supplies.” I look to the master. His dark eyes rise from his project, gaze falling on Stephanie’s form as she continually flutters through the small kitchen. His eyes fall on me, a rare, small smile pulling at his lips, before his eyes fall back to his work, his stiff expression falling back to place.

I’m momentarily stunned at the act. Had I really seen that? Or was it just a trick of the light.

“Taeyeon, can we?” Stephanie’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

I glance at the master through the side of my vision, before slowly nodding my head. “Yeah. Sure.”

Stephanie was like the sun. Bright, warm and feisty. She was a gem, everyone knew it, and it didn’t take long for her to integrate herself into society. Like me, her name became widely known within the borders of the town, but for a completely different reason. She was the perfect example of a girl coming of age. Her delicate features and her charming smile drew the crowd to her like moths to a flame. People smiled when she was around, the sound of her unique, slightly husky voice like a melody to the ears. Most everyone tended to overlook her skittishness when it came to men, laughing at the cute display of what they called humbleness.

Fortunately, my reputation couple with the scowl I kept on deterred further harassment and Stephanie knew better than to stray away. She would constantly mutter her less than humble comments on the matter, something that never failed to bring a satisfied grin to my face. If only the public could hear her.

Never the less, through Stephanie’s need for conversation, we found certain individuals that we were completely comfortable with such as the baker and his wife. The two were lovely individuals, incredibly chatty but not the gossip monger kind. Stephanie was most at ease with them and was more than happy to lend a helping hand. The duos were part of the very few who treated me normally instead of shrinking away from some ridiculous rumour. For that, I will forever be thankful to them.

Another one was the old lady who sold vegetables. She was a bit of a bat, has this obsession with doing everything in threes. She wouldn’t sell any singular item and would insist anyone who bought her produce to get them in threes, no more and no less. It was a bit of a hassle, especially when she would start up talking in riddles. No one understood her riddles.

“Carrots. Turnips. Beetroots.” She listed off, stuffing our sack with three of each item, her knobby fingers deftly going through the selection in her stall. Piercing, sky blue eyes peer at us once in a while, the leathery skin of her face pulling whenever she’d grin. “Good day for a stroll.”

“Great day, better than it was a week ago.” I agree, nodding my head at the end of my statement. I could feel Stephanie leaning her head against my back, her arms locked around my free one in a loose hold. I think nothing of it, just Stephanie looking for close contact.

“It is a good day.” A deep voice joined in.

I look over my shoulder, already pulling Stephanie aside when a familiar stern face came into view. He must have seen me visibly relax as a small chuckle left his lips.

“Easy now, I mean no harm.” He said, lifting both his hands up in a show of good faith.

“A good day to you, Mr. Pole.” Stephanie greeted, her side melting against me. I give her a brief glance, wondering what was going on with her, before redirecting my attention to the tall man before us.

“Mr. Pole, how are you?”

“Very good, Taeyeon, Stephanie. And yourselves? I hope you’ve had no trouble of any sorts around the graveyard.” He asked, turning serious. Mr. Pole took his work seriously. He gave no leeway to anyone proven guilty and was fair and just.

A memory of David and Morty played in my mind. The actual event occurred a couple of months back, but it was hard to forget unpleasant memories. Mr. Pole seems to read my thoughts as his brows drew close, lips pursing into a tight line.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Taeyeon?” I look back into his eyes and shake my head. It had happened a while ago, and David and Morty have been absent from the path ever since. I don’t see a reason why I should bring it up now.

“Everything is well, sir. Just spotted a couple of foxes wandering about, nothing we can’t handle.” I assured him, Stephanie backing my statement up with a few, rigorous nod of her head.

His serious expression softens into a smile and clapped his hands once, a sign that he was happy with the report. “Fantastic. I apologise for not going to the site as often. I promise, as soon as I see the new recruits fit for the job I’ll have at least one patrolling the area regularly. We’ve been short on the man power with all the.. you know.”

“We understand. It’s really no problem Mr. Pole.”

“In fact, I’ll even drop by once in a while. It’s a promise. I can’t stand the thought of you two young ladies out there with no protection. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Wick?”

“These two ladies are in good hands.” Was Mrs. Wick’s only response as she stuffed what appeared to be the third head of cabbage into our bag.

By then, I had to intervene. There was only so much our bag could accommodate; stuffing three heads was too much. Mrs. Wick sees my advances and was quick to slap my hand away, for an old woman her reflexes were still above par. One of the many reasons most of the town was partially convinced she was a witch.

Stephanie and Mr. Pole laugh at my plight. Stephanie giggles harder when I shot her a desperate look, worriedly looking at the seams of the bag in case they start to unravel.

It was during that same day that I began to question what it truly means to love someone. I have never thought about it before, what with my background. With the grave master, we had something that wasn’t quite love but more of a symbiotic relationship. We helped each other keep us alive through burying the dead. It’s a morbid thought, but that was exactly what we did.

With Stephanie, it was different. There was nothing quite platonic with our relationship; example her need for skin ship going as far as slipping into my bed for comfort. It was that evening that became one of the first of many firsts. A revelation that I would never forget.

“Hey, Taeyeon?”

Prying my eyes open I shifted around the bed until I was facing Stephanie’s back and squinting at the light shining on my face. I hummed, squeezing my eyes shut. This was a good position too.

“What do you think true love’s kiss would feel like?”

I force my eyes open again to regard her carefully. “I don’t know. You’re the one reading all those stories, aren’t you?” I tell her.

At long last, I had gotten my hands on three used books. They were raggedy, at best, the spines falling apart from the years of wear and tear, but Stephanie loved them. She kept them at the head of her bed, neatly stacked up right beside her pillow. I didn’t know what the stories were exactly, I had gotten them at a bargain from the baker’s wife. It was gathering dust at the back of the store and she was about to throw them out when we happened to walk by.

“Yes, but it’s never really described in detail. It’s just something so powerful that could turn their worst nightmare into happily ever after.” Stephanie supplied, swooning. “Doesn’t it sound so nice?”

“It’s just a kiss. Nothing in real life is that easy. And I don’t think true love’s kiss exist anyway, just one of those fantasy story things.” I tell her offhandedly.

“Then, what about couples? Marriage is about finding that one person your soul craves for, isn’t it? That one person that makes your life complete. And the marriage is consummated with a loving kiss from the bride and groom.” Stephanie quickly defended. I peek at her through one eye, the look on her face was just too cute.

“Well… sure, if you put it like that–”

“Right?! So what does it feel like?” she interrupted, tilting her head to the side curiously.

'Why ask me?' I wanted to ask. I was probably the worst person to ask that kind of question. Unfortunately, between me and the grave master, there was no one else for her to ask comfortably. Probably. “What do normal kisses feel like? It should be the same.”

“Well.. What do you think kisses feel like then, Taeyeon?”

I sigh. Pushing up on my elbow I ran a hand through my face up to my hairline. “I don’t know… lips are naturally plump, so soft I guess.”

“And?” she encourages.

I sigh again. “Warm… comfortable.. maybe even tingly.”

“Tingly?”

I nod my head, pushing up to a sitting position and turning my head away. My face burns as my thoughts drift to the feelings I felt every night, as Stephanie huddles close for comfort. The places where our skins touched felt warm and alive with tingling sensations.

Cold fingers curling under my chin snaps me out of my thoughts. I let her guide my head until I am face to face with Stephanie. Her dark eyes stare unwaveringly into my own and it sets off a mixed set of reactions through my body. An almost unbearable heat crawls up through the collar of my shirt from my burning body yet there seems to be something akin to a block of ice stuck in my throat. Swallowing it down takes a lot of effort, and needs, even more, to force my eyes away from the dark pools of brown. They somehow end up focusing on her lips, quirked into a smile.

Her lips move, but the loud pounding in my ears drowns out her words. I finally pull my eyes off her lips and focus them instead on the fire at the far left.

“So-sorry?”

“Soft, warm, comfortable and tingly? Those are some choice words to describe a kiss. ” she repeats, just loud enough to hear over the drumming in my ears. “What makes you say so? Have you kissed anyone before?”

“Wha- n-no!” I sputter. I want to pull my head back, but her fingers remain clamped firmly on my chin. “I- I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ve never been with anyone aside from.. well.. I just thought.. since it’s a kiss from someone you… love, it should feel like something that you’d want to feel all the time.”

“But why tingly? That has me curious more than the others.” She lets go of my chin and moves to sit beside me. Her head soon finds perch on my shoulder and she lets out a drawn out exhale. I am as still as a board, still reeling in.

“I don’t know.” I lie. “Just popped up in my head.” She hums and doesn’t say another word after that.

We sit there for a while in silence. Her even breathing is all I hear and I wondered if she had fallen asleep.

“Do you want to know?” her voice fills my ears. I turn my head to her slightly, but all I see is the top of her head.

“Know what?” I ask, carefully.

“What it would feel like.”

“What would what feel like?”

“A kiss.” There was no hesitation in her reply. Again, I am amazed at how easily she could say these things as if she was merely offering a biscuit.

I blink at the space in front of me. And again. I bite the bottom of my lip just to make sure it wasn’t I that had fallen asleep and was dreaming up our whole conversation. The sharp sting tells me that I am, in fact, awake.

The weight on my shoulder vanishes, and I feel her hand on my opposite cheek, gently guiding my head to face her. I know I must have looked shocked, the rest of my body sure is. I don’t even know what to say and my eyes are instantly drawn back to her lips.

Her lips move. “Can I kiss you?”

She must have noticed where my eyes stray off to. Why else would she ask such thing?

“Ste-” my words are cut off by a soft pressure against my mouth. It is soft, warm- hot if you put into account the reaction from my body- and somehow, despite the rapid drumming in my chest, set the rest of my body at ease. It felt like I was melting while electricity ran over my skin from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. It must not have lasted for more than a few seconds, but it felt longer. And I was drowning in a clash of emotions that I couldn’t even begin to sort through. The feeling was so much more intense than I had thought.

When I reopened my eyes, Stephanie’s face was not that far from my own. I can hear her breathing in deeply, see her eyes slightly parted and staring at our hands, about an inch apart, on top of the bed. She blinks a couple of times, her eyes rising from the bed back to my face. I couldn’t even decipher where the brown colour of her iris started with how dark her eyes had gone. She looked less like the Stephanie I’ve come to know and more like the frightened nameless girl the first night. Except it was different.

She looked… wilder.

I continue to stare at her, forgetting to blink and breathe properly. Eventually, my lungs began protesting the lack of air going into them and I took a deep, noisy breath in, my bottom lip in the process.

And then, she was right in front of me. Her dark eyes bore right at me, her lips parted as she breathed deeply. With that position, I could see her chest rise and fall and it was then that I realised how vulnerable my position was. She was on top of me, straddling my legs with her arms on opposite sides of my head, anchored on the bed post. My entire being froze as I stared right back into her eyes, searching for answers to questions I hadn’t even formulated.

Her head gradually inched closer, to the point that I was cross-eyed with how close we were, feel her breath hitting my moist lips. I swallowed, my body tingling in anticipation for her next move. Whatever distance was left, she closed, her lips pressing back onto mine and instinctively my eyelids fluttered to a close.

The pressure between our lips grew heavier I swear I could feel her teeth pressing up against our lips. Then she started to move, her bottom lip parting and resting underneath my own, pressure lightening. She would move back, our lips parting for a brief period then come back down. Soon enough I began to follow her lead, moving my lips to try and catch her own as she moves.

A haze began to shroud my thoughts, and nothing except for Stephanie’s lips was kept in the forefront of my dulled mind. The only things I could make out from my thoughts were of how soft her lips were, how tantalising they were pressed against my own and how much I wanted to press harder against them.

When the thoughts began to turn obscure from the light headedness I was beginning to feel from the lack of oxygen I reluctantly parted from Stephanie. With our foreheads resting against each other, we took the opportunity to catch our breaths.

“Taeyeon.” She utters breathlessly. That simple word, even after all the times I’ve heard her say my name, sends jolts shooting down my spine. I pry my eyelids apart, staring at a close-up of Stephanie’s face. It’s only then I realise I have her face cupped in between my hands. Her arms are wrapped securely around my neck that even if I wanted to pull back she would undoubtedly follow my movement.

My heart is beating erratically in my chest, feeling like it was pushing to escape the confines of my chest and reach out for Stephanie. I move my hands, letting it curl behind Stephanie’s neck to get a better hold on her, then began to slide my body downwards until my back was fully rested on the bed. Her flutter open, her cheeks were stained in a pinkish glow but her eyes were back to their normal colour. She was now resting fully on my chest, silently staring at my face. I like to think she was trying to sketch the image of my face to her mind, as I was doing to her. She just looked perfect in that moment. Her lips were glossy from our mixed saliva, eyes halfway open from being drunk on our earlier action, my hands buried in her hair behind the nape. It was perfect, and I didn’t want to forget this moment anytime soon.

Her tongue darted in between her lips and she took a shaky inhale. “So?”

“So?” I parroted. I move my hand, adding slight pressure to massage the back of her neck and trailing down to her shoulders. Her eyes flutter shut and she sighs, head dropping to my chest.

“What did you think?” she asks, breathily.

“I don’t know what to think” I reply honestly. My mind was still floating, still feeling the euphoria from that kiss we shared.

“I liked it. Did you?” And that was the question wasn’t it?

Did I like it? “After that, I don’t think I can go on without another one.”

She laughs, her arms untangling from my neck to go to my sides. She pushes herself up, pressing a quick peck on my lips.  “It’s settled then. True loves kiss is soft, warm, comfortable, tingly and something you can’t go another day without.”

I hum. “Sounds about right.”

“So, does that mean I’m your true love?” It was such an innocent question, but I blank out for a bit.

“Does it?” I ask myself. My arms curled around Stephanie’s shoulder, holding her as close to my body as possible. She doesn’t protest, only snuggles her head into a more comfortable position.

“If you are…” I begin, unsure. “then, do I get more kisses in the future?”

“Of course, silly.” She giggles, moving her head to press a short kiss right on my chin. “Besides, after that, I don’t think I can go on without kissing you again. You have very kissable lips.”

It’s my turn to laugh. Inside I was melted down to a puddle. I’m surprised I could keep my hold on Stephanie with how my body felt so detached, yet I was so conscious of the warmth emanating from Stephanie’s body and how my body craved to be near hers.

I didn’t know what it was to love someone. But I could learn to love Stephanie if it meant she would only be mine. As greedy as my thoughts may be I guess that was just simply because I was human. And love was sort of greed, a greed for one’s sole attention. And I was greedy for Stephanie’s attention.

“Okay,” I say. I look down, meeting her glittering eyes. My face pulls into a wide smile. “You're my true love. Mine.”

~~~

A/N: Too aggressive? Possessive? I like to think that the both of them are possessive of each other and gets jealous if one's attention is hogged by other people.