content warning: light ual content? not really tho idk

The perfume on my skin is light and airy, sweet and gentle like the lace I memorized across your hipbone, and it reminds me of you. It's been months. It's been so long.

They asked me today why I wear fur coats. Why I only dressed casually when I was yours. Why I look like a grieving widow. I guess you can't be a widow for something that was never yours. I told them it was because I wanted to look fancy, and there was never an occasion why I wasn't allowed to look my best.

Isn't that why you were attracted to me? My expensive attire, my sophisticated make-up, my silk pajamas that I always begged for you to take off, because no matter how soft it is, your skin is the touch I craved.

Lesbian isn't the word I'd use for us. We were in love and we were both girls, but with a label that's reminiscent of the streets I never walked down and an animalistic desire for a woman to be harsh with my skin instead of a man, it just doesn't fit.

I'm sitting in someone's bedroom on the soft, costly linen, and there's a mirror in front of me. You wouldn't have liked it here, at this party where there were no cheap drinks and everything was fragile. You told me once that you feared touching anything, for the oils of your hands would stain something worth more than anything you could perceive.

But there was not a thing that was worth more than you, ChaeRin. Your touch and your face and your existence are the most valuable things I can imagine.

The fur coat is hanging off my left shoulder, and I'm trying to ignore it, but I can't help but catch my eye on the freckle you used to adore. Right now, I'm trying to ignore my reflection, how my make-up is beginning to fade and the light mascara tears draw down my face like cracks in a porcelain doll.

My outfit is pretty. A black cocktail dress that meets the end of my thigh and highlights my curves. Nothing notable. Nothing that wo