BGM: Bad habits – Ed Sheeran

 

She lets her back falls onto the mattress with a huff. Panting for air, too tired from the lewd cardio exercise that she had just done with.

 

She is sore all over, her thighs and the area in between especially. The silence and the low buzz from the air-conditioner lulling her to sleep.

 

Slowly, her eyes flutter to close. It is in the darkness that she sees, the face of her supposed loved one and her eyes snap open almost immediately.

 

“We should stop this,” she mumbles, forearm refusing to move from the top of forehead and thighs slick from her previous excitement.

 

The lack of response bother her. The silence that once lulled her to sleep polluted by the tick of the clock.

 

Her heart hurts more with each tick of the clock.

 

Was it guilt?

 

Does she even feels guilty for what she has been doing for these past few months?

 

Was it regret?

 

Does she even regrets paying the room for months in advance, solely for their affair?

 

She doesn’t, she supposed.

 

So what is the pain in her heart is for?

 

What is this feeling, clawing from the back of her mind?

 

“This is the last time,”

 

The voice pulls her out of her mind.

 

The pain in her heart stopped, replaced with some weird sense of tranquility.

 

Gone was the bile in , replaced with the tingly butterflies in her stomach.

 

She moves to lie on her side, facing the other woman in the room.

 

‘What a sight to be hold,’ she muses internally, like she always does.

 

If she were to be asked what her favorite view, she has a lot to be list out. Most of it are scenery of the nature.

 

But none, emphasizing on the none, can overtake the view that she is currently enjoying.

 

There she is, the woman of her dream.

 

There she sits, her guilty pleasure.

 

Her secret.

 

Her favorite.

 

She is resting her back comfortably against the headboard of the queen-sized bed. Eyes shut, red lips slightly parted and lipstick smeared.

 

But still, she is beautiful in her eyes. Ethereal even.

 

She used the quilt to cover her bare chest, though it has slipped due to my movements and her s are slightly peaking.

 

!

 

“Stop staring at me,” the older between the two says, fluttering her eyes open. Their orbs meet, and none can tear their gaze away from each other.

 

The magnetic pull, or maybe is the right phrase, is too strong between them.

 

“I can’t” said the younger. Her heart beats faster, pouncing stronger over her ribcage.

 

“I am too enchanted by your beauty. Sometimes I don’t even think that you are real, you are too perfect to be real,” she moves her left hand to hold onto the older woman’s right hand, thumb drawing circles at the back of her palm.

 

“Maybe you are not real and I am losing my mind. Or maybe you are real and I am still losing my mind. Either way, it’s moments like this that make me wish I can call you mine,”

 

“I am yours,” she replies, tightening her hold on the younger’s hand.

 

“You are, when we are trapped in these four walls. But once we stepped outside, we have to keep our distance again. Can I still call you mine, when we are surrounded by the crowds instead of these walls?”

 

Her question is answered with silence.

 

She knows what she is getting into when she first got into whatever this is between them. But that doesn’t mean the silence hurt any less.

 

She knows what they are doing is wrong. But that doesn’t mean they can’t hope for something more.

 

She knows that outside of the room, where reality exists, where they are forced to stop dreaming, they each belong in someone else’s arms.

 

She knows.

 

They know.

 

But can they stop?

 

“This is bad habits at this point,” she groans as she moves to also rest her back against the headboard.

 

Another silence.

 

Tic

 

Toc

 

Tic

 

Toc

 

“Don’t you think we should stop this by now, Byul-ah?” The older asks, timidly.

 

The confusion in her mind, shown in her actions. In which she moves her body an inch away from the Byul’s shoulders, but then she interlaces their fingers together instead of prying her hand away from the younger’s hold.

 

“This should be the last time,”

 

“But you know it probably won’t,” the older, Yongsun, sighs.

 

Ringgggg …

 

Their phone goes off, cutting their moments short. Letting out a heavy breath, they haze into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds before both move to reach their phone on the table at the each side of the bed.

 

They slide the green icon simultaneously and both move in complete synchronization.

 

With a final kiss on the back of Yongsun’s palm, Byul move to pick her scattered clothes on the floor and locks herself inside the bathroom to answer the call while the other woman slides onto the mattress.

 

Yongsun pulled the quilt higher, tucking it safely under her armpits before she turned to lie on her sides. The caller on the other side forgotten as she stares at the closed bathroom doors, wondering how great it would be if they don’t have to be each other’s dirty secret.

 

“I …” a pause, she is hesitating whether to finish her sentence or not when the bathroom door clicked open.

 

Revealing Byul, looking sharp in her grey Thom Browne’s suit paired with a white button ups and black tie. Their eyes meet and that’s when Yongsun decided to finish her sentence, “love you,”

 

This bring a smile to the younger’s face. She knows who it is meant for, truly.

 

Eagerly, she ends the call. Not even wasting another second.

 

“You leaving?”

 

“I am sorry, impromptu dinner,” Byul replies, awkwardly scratching her nape, “You?”

 

“Probably later,”

 

Byul nods in understanding.

 

She’s late for the dinner. She knows she’s late, but she can’t seems to move her feet despite her brain telling her to.

 

“Do you want me to clean you up before I go?” She asks, despite knowing for a fact that she’s late.

 

Despite knowing how much her date hates her being late.

 

‘I’ll just bring some flowers to cool her off,’

 

“No, it’s my mess. I will clean it up myself,” Yongsun answers, carrying hidden message that Byul failed to understand at that time.

 

“You should leave now,”

 

Nodding, Byul force herself to move.

 

To walk out of the room.

 

But she doesn’t forget to look back at the woman on the bed before she closes the door.

 

It is not until exactly four days later and hundreds, maybe thousands of unaswered calls as well as messages, that Byul finally understood the cryptic message behind the older’s reply.

 

She read the headlines on the gossip tabloids over and over again until her brain finally registered the words.

 

“Kim heiress canceled her engagement a month prior to her awaited wedding. K Group has yet made any official statements.”

 

“Kim heiress is seen at the airport leaving Korea.”

 

“I love you – Kim heiress’s last word before walking pass the gate to ride her private plane. Who was it meant for?”

 

“Kim heiress’s love story comes to an end. K Group’s stock expected to drop.”

 

I actually got the idea for this story while I was showering .. so you can consider this as my shower thoughts ? Lol

 

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