It didn’t work the second time either, or the third, and Chaeyoung’s patience was wearing thin. The fertility hormones were giving her headaches and mood swings that were giving Joohyun whiplash, and she felt nauseous and fatigued constantly. The worst part was all the side effects never paid off, and it just made her feel worse for it. She’d had her heart set on it working quickly, and each failure was a blow to her hopes, making her doubt whether it would actually work. She’d taken hormones and vitamins, changed her diet and cut out alcohol at the mere mention of trying to get pregnant, yet it made no difference because it just wasn’t working. After the fourth, she was ready to give up all together.

Summer was on its way out, ushering in autumn with russet and scarlet leaves and a chill to the air, and the looming approach of winter didn’t help improve Chaeyoung’s mood. She’d spent the morning wrapped up in a knitted cardigan, sketching outside while Joohyun tended to her precious flowers, hot tea never far from her hand with the staff waiting on her ever need. It was with some bitterness that she let them bring her soup for lunch, in the finest china that money could buy, made by one of the best chefs in the world, because money could buy her everything she wanted, except pregnancy. For all of her wealth and power, her money could buy her a way to get pregnant, but only if she could actually get pregnant, and in her sullen mood, Chaeyoung soon abandoned her half eaten food and went back up to their suite.

By the time Joohyun made it back up to their room, having stayed kneeling amongst the earth and plants at Chaeyoung’s insistence so that they could both get some space, Chaeyoung was wearing freshly laundered pyjamas and wrapped up in a blanket, a fire roaring and making the room almost stiflingly hot as she watched TV. At the appearance of her wife, Chaeyoung gave her a small smile, watching Joohyun kick off her shoes before she tracked mud through the suite, and then she climbed to her feet, walking over to the liquor cabinet and pouring them both a finger of whiskey. Walking over to her, Joohyun took both glasses and set them down on the table, giving Chaeyoung a stern look.

“No alcohol.”

“Well it’s not working either way,” Chaeyoung curtly replied. "What's the point in being one of the richest people on the planet if I can't use it to get pregnant? I can buy a new house on a whim, hell, I can buy an island, but I can't pay for someone to get me pregnant when my body just- it just doesn't want to be."

"That's not how money works," Joohyun said, giving her an empathetic look, and Chaeyoung made a sound of disapproval, as if it should work that way.

Sighing, Joohyun reached out to take her hand, but Chaeyoung pulled backwards, not feeling like being touched right then. Her most recent blood test had been yesterday, with another negative, and after a failed fourth round, she wasn’t much in the mood for being comforted. It would’ve been easier if Joohyun wasn’t trying so hard to make her feel better, and she knew that Joohyun had adopted a much softer manner lately purely to help ease Chaeyoung’s growing frustration and anger with herself. She was doing it again right then, and it irked Chaeyoung more than usual.

“Hey, you just- you have to give it more time. Just be patient for a little while longer. We’ll get there.”

“That’s all you do! You just stand there and say ‘it’ll work, you’ll see’ ,” Chaeyoung said, adopting an accent that was supposed to somewhat sound like Joohyun’s.

“I hate it when you do that,” Joohyun grumbled, “I don’t even sound like that.”

Rolling her eyes, Chaeyoung sank down onto the sofa and picked up her sketchbook. Flipping to the half finished one of the palace gardens in full bloom, she added detailed touches to the drawing of Joohyun kneeling before a flower bed, tending to the roses as she had been that morning. “Well it’s true. You don’t say anything useful.”

“Christ, Chaeyoung, what do you want me to say? That it’s not going to work. We should just give up now,” Joohyun exclaimed.

“Well it’s what you’re thinking!” Chaeyoung said, and Joohyun spluttered as she sat down on the sofa across from her. Making hard marks with the pencil as her frustration got the better of her, Chaeyoung stared intently at the sketch in her lap. “And it’s not like you ever wanted kids anyway.”

Joohyun made a small sound of indignation, trying to bite her tongue but settling for keeping her temper in check as she evenly replied. “You know as well as I do that I’ve changed a lot since we first started … dating, so if you’re trying to say that this doesn’t upset me as much as it upsets you, then you’re being ridiculous and maybe you should go and lay down until you’re in less of a mood.”

Huffing in frustration, Chaeyoung tossed her sketchbook aside, along with the pencil, and gave Joohyun a dark look. “Don’t be so condescending.”

“Well then stop being a stroppy cow and tell me what you want me to say! If trying to make you hopeful isn’t working, and telling you that it won’t work isn’t what you want to hear, then what can I say? Do you want me to tell you that I think you’re being too impatient? People do this for years and we’re lucky we can afford to do it as many times as we’d like. Three isn’t very many rounds at all . Do you want me to tell you that we should keep trying? That it’s too soon for you to be giving up. Or do you want me to tell you that I’ll do it?”

Scoffing, Chaeyoung shook her head as she laughed slightly, “no, you know I