When fairies know that fairytales don't exist

Vivi is still awake. She sips her cup of tea, then she glances at the clock and she wipes the tears away from her eyes. She's lonely. She misses her. Her best friend, her lover, her girlfriend. Her Yves, her fairytale, her swan. She knows that she's a drinker, a cheater and a smoker. She acknowledges it. This is the truth, this isn't a lie.

She loves her. With every fiber of her being. With all her body, with all her heart, with all her soul. She hers, she belongs to her, she's only hers. She still believes in love.

She gets up from the chair, she approaches the window and she pulls out the curtain, placing the piping cup on the cornice that tarnishes the glass. She puts a finger on the surface, thus she draws a heart on it and she smiles slightly, letting the corners of curve upwards.
And then, all of a sudden, everything changes. Something happens.

She listens to the sound of the key, of the door, and of her steps. She sees her, she's back to her, she's Yves. Hers.

Yves smells like alcohol, and cigarettes, but there are also blonde hair on her clothes, lipstick on her neck and a scent on her skin. Yves has cheated on Vivi. Again. Is it Jinsoul or Kim Lip?

It's as if all her fairy world, in which she has lived up with her, it's being shattered to a thousand pieces. It's all broken, Forever.

"Do you still love me?" it's Vivi's question. She knows the answer to the question. It's a no.

"I still love you" it's Yve's answer. She doesn't know the answer to the question. It can be a no, it can be a yes.

Yves pushes her against the wall, she cups her face and she kisses her