i. Everyone else is oohing and ahhing at the bright, gleaming trophy in Taeyeon’s slightly trembling fingers, but the only thing that Jessica has eyes for is Tiffany’s smile, more dazzling than any trophy in the world.

“Jessi,” Tiffany squeals, throwing her arms around Jessica.

The action almost knocks them both off the platform they’re standing on, but Jessica, unlike Tiffany, is well-coordinated and regains her balance in time.

“We did it,” Tiffany whispers into Jessica’s neck, voice suddenly a lot quieter, like this is something she wants to share with Jessica alone. “Jessi, we did it.”

“Yeah,” Jessica breathes back, surrounded by Tiffany, the long curtain of her hair hiding them both from the world. Jessica feels like they’re in a world of their own, filled with only the perfume of Tiffany’s scent and the joy exuding from her, so vibrant it’s almost tangible.

Tiffany pulls back from her a little, stars gleaming in her eyes when she looks at Jessica, somehow smiling even though she’s not. “You were so amazing,” she says, louder now to drown out the fans’ cheers.

“You were too,” Jessica murmurs. She pulls Tiffany back to her, buries her face into Tiffany’s hair and just clings to her, feeling like she never wants to let go.

I love you, she presses the words into Tiffany’s skin with her lips, wishing that she could engrave them there, make a permanent mark on Tiffany. I love you I love you Iloveyou.

“Jessi,” Tiffany laughs. “You’re, like, slobbering on my neck.”

“Hey, stop hogging Fany,” Sunkyu says. “I want a piece of her too.”

Jessica leans away from Tiffany, barely holding back a well too bad, because she’s mine and I don’t share.

“Sica,” Yuri yells, passing her the trophy. “It’s so heavy, feel it!”

“Ooh, I want to hold it,” Tiffany says, excitedly reaching for the figurine. Jessica hands it to her without a second thought. “Jessi, look, isn’t it pretty?” She beams at Jessica, her bangs falling into her eyes, her eyes curved into crescents.

Jessica swallows, and somehow gets out a, “Yeah, it’s great,” when she’s really thinking about how beautiful Tiffany is and how she wishes she was brave enough to tell her that.

ii. “I just can’t believe they would say such horrible things,” Tiffany sniffs. “We’ve worked so hard to get to where we’re at, and they don’t know anything about it and they’re just so cruel.”

“Screw them,” Jessica says sharply. “Who cares what they think, Steph? Don’t give a damn about the stupid antis.”

Tiffany gives her a watery smile. “You’re really cute when you swear, you know.”

Jessica blinks at her. “Your attention span is even shorter than I thought.”

Tiffany pouts. “I don’t have a short attention span.” She drops her head, her hair falling over her face, hiding her expression from Jessica. “I just wish they wouldn’t talk about my mom,” she says quietly. “Everything else I can deal with. Calling me ugly, fat, talentless, I don’t care. But my mom, why won’t they leave her alone?”

Jessica’s heart wrenches sharply at Tiffany’s pain. She can’t relate to what Tiffany’s feeling; she has a mom who packs her huge sandwiches for lunch and fusses over how short her skirts are and practically suffocates her with hugs on the rare occasions she gets to go home.

But although Jessica can’t empathize with her, it doesn’t mean she hurts any less for Tiffany. It’s agony to her, hearing the pain in Tiffany’s voice, seeing the telltale wetness in her eyes. It feels like she’s the one who’s hurting – no, it feels worse than if she’s the one who’s hurting, because Tiffany’s pain has always affected her more than her own.

“Because they’re morons, that’s why,” Jessica says. “Steph, don’t listen to a word they say. You’re not ugly or fat or talentless. You’re – you’re so amazing and I lo—” She closes so quickly that her teeth grind together audibly.

Tiffany gives her a wide-eyed look. “Jessi,” she says, warmth softening her features.

“Don’t listen to a word they say,” Jessica repeats.

“I don’t know what we’ve done to get so many antis.”

“They’re just jealous, pathetic creatures with nothing better to do than spread hatred,” Jessica says apathetically. “It’s the only thing they’re good at, saying vicious things about people who don’t deserve them.”

“I wish I was as brave as you, Jessi,” Tiffany says wistfully. “You never let other people get to you. You’re so strong.”

Jessica swallows. Don’t you know how much you get to me? she wants to ask Tiffany. Don’t you know how weak I become when it comes to you?

“You’re full of emotions,” she says instead, brushing a tear from Tiffany’s cheek. The teardrop glistens like a jewel on her fingertip before melting away into her skin. “It’s not a weakness; it’s just part of who you are.” She hesitates, looks at how Tiffany’s lashes are glistening. “And I love who you are.” She says the last part so quietly that she’s not sure if Tiffany hears her.

“You’re so sweet, Jessi,” Tiffany says, her tears only making her smile more beautiful, a stab straight at Jessica’s heart. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me, babo. Just – just don’t cry so much anymore, okay? I hate seeing you cry.”

Tiffany nods. “Okay,” she says, leaning her head against Jessica’s shoulder. “Okay.”

They stay like that for a long time, Jessica content and yet wanting.

iii. Jessica doesn’t say anything when Tiffany sneaks into her room in the dead of night with two bottles of soju, her cheeks flushed with excitement and eyes lit up with mischief.

“You know you can’t hold your alcohol, right?” Jessica says archly.

“You’re not much better,” Tiffany huffs, handing Jessica a bottle that she dutifully takes.

Jessica just shrugs, uncapping the bottle and taking a large gulp. She wipes with the back of her hand, grimacing slightly at the burn down . “Your turn,” she says to Tiffany.

Tiffany narrows her eyes at Jessica, before she jerks her chin up and drinks a third of the bottle in one go. “I can so hold my alcohol,” she says, looking like she’s about to burst into coughs.

Jessica just shakes her head with amusement. “Hey, don’t finish it all now. Alcohol’s made for enjoying.”

Tiffany mutters something under her breath about how she doesn’t understand what’s so enjoyable about drinking something so disgusting.

“What was that, Steph?” Jessica asks innocently. “Do you want to stop already?”

“No!” Tiffany says immediately, swaying slightly.

“Shh.” Jessica holds a finger to her lips. “We don’t want to wake anyone.”

Tiffany nods, her eyes half-lidded, the soju obviously kicking in. “Give me some more,” she slurs, reaching for Jessica’s bottle.

Jessica lets her have it (it’s amusing to watch a drunk Tiffany), and watches as Tiffany gurgles down the soju like it’s water and she’s dying of thirst.

“That’s enough, Steph,” she says firmly, taking the bottle away from Tiffany when there’s less than half of it left.

“But I want moooore,” Tiffany whines, swaying unsteadily and then falling into Jessica.

“No, that’s enough,” Jessica says, trying to subtly shift away from Tiffany, whose soft body is half-draped over hers. “I told you that you can’t hold your alcohol.”

“I can hold it just fine,” Tiffany hiccups. “I haven’t even had enough.”

“Yes, you have,” Jessica says, taking both bottles and setting them carefully on the floor, making sure to keep them a safe distance from Tiffany.

“You haven’t even had any,” Tiffany says, sticking her face close to Jessica’s. Her eyes are wide, her irises so dark that Jessica can’t tell them apart from her pupils. She feels like Tiffany’s eyes are like black holes, and she would never want to look away from them even if she could. “Jessi, you should have some more.”

“I’ve had enough,” Jessica says hoarsely. “I’m drunk enough.” She doesn’t say that it’s not the alcohol making her drunk.

“You’re no fun,” Tiffany whines. “Let’s play a game, Jessi.”

“What do you want to play?” she asks, finding Tiffany very amusing in this state.

“How about truth or dare?” Tiffany’s practically sitting in Jessica’s lap by this point, and although Jessica doesn’t mind at all, she’s worried about her rapidly fraying self-control.

“Sure,” Jessica says in a strained voice.

“Can I go first?” Without waiting for Jessica’s response, Tiffany fires off a question. “Have you ever liked anyone? No wait, make that – do you like someone right now?”

Jessica swallows; it feels almost painful. “Pass,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant.

“No fair.” Tiffany pouts. “You can’t pass.”

“Pass,” Jessica repeats, voice firmer now, making it clear that there’s no room for argument.

“Fine.” Tiffany turns her face away childishly. “Be that way.”

“Steph, you’ve had way too much to drink,” Jessica sighs. “I’m going to get you a glass of water.” She makes to stand up, but Tiffany grabs her wrist and jerks her back down.

“No, don’t go anywhere,” Tiffany says. “Don’t leave me.”

And even though Tiffany’s completely wasted and Jessica would only be leaving for a minute anyway, Jessica can’t deny her. She’s always been terrible at denying Tiffany.

“You can tell me, Jessi,” Tiffany says, sounding surprisingly sober. “Aren’t we best friends?”

“Yeah,” Jessica says, heart simultaneously swelling and deflating at the words. They are best friends, and she’s beyond happy that Tiffany considers her – icy, cynical, narcoleptic Jessica – as her best friend, but she wants so much more than that. “But I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Tiffany asks, the question interrupted by a big yawn.

“Because…”Jessica pauses, then leans closer, breath quickening in anticipation and nervousness. If not now, then when? At least if she takes it badly, she’ll probably forget it by tomorrow. “Because you’re the one I lo—I mean, like.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Jessica goes through a tirade of expletives in her head, cursing her stupidity and impulsiveness. Tiffany isn’t saying anything, and that’s not good at all. She must be taking it badly, she must be disgusted or angry or—

A loud snore fills the room. Jessica’s jaw drops almost to the floor when she sees Tiffany passed out on the bed, her head lolling to the side.

“You must be kidding me,” Jessica mutters. “I confess, and you fall asleep?”

Tiffany snores again, as if answering her.

“I’m supposed to be the one falling asleep out of nowhere, babo, not you,” Jessica says, softer now. She drapes a blanket carefully over Tiffany, making sure to cover her securely, and brushes her hair away from her face.

“I love you a lot, you know,” Jessica says quietly. “I just can’t say it, but I hope you know that anyway.”

She sighs, bending down to kiss Tiffany’s forehead before walking quietly out of the room. She knows that she won’t be getting any sleep that night, haunted by ghosts of what could have been and reminders of all the things she didn’t say.

iv. “Do you ever miss California?” Tiffany asks Jessica, the two of them sprawled across Tiffany’s bed.

Jessica’s idly counting the spots on the ceiling; she’s up to 143. “Yes, but not that much. You know I moved to Korea when I was pretty young.” Tiffany makes an affirmative sound. “You must miss it a lot though.”

“Yeah,” Tiffany admits. “Especially the English, you know.”

“Your Korean’s pretty good now, mushroom,” Jessica says with a teasing smile.

“One time, and nobody ever lets me forget it,” Tiffany sighs, burying her face in her hands.

“It’s hard to forget your friend calling herself a mushroom,” Jessica says wryly.

“I like English,” Tiffany says in a clipped voice.

“Then let’s speak English.”

Tiffany suddenly sighs. “Why do you always give me what I want?”

Jessica tenses up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Tiffany bites her lip. “You’re always giving in to me, going along with what I want. Why do you do that, Jessi?”

Because I love you.

“Because…because I feel bad that nobody else does it. Everyone else is too busy laughing at the stuff you do.”

“Not everyone,” Tiffany says sullenly.

“Okay, Taeyeon gives in to you,” Jessica concedes, “but that’s because you’re like her kid or something.”

“Taeyeon is my husband,” Tiffany says with great dignity, “and maknae is our child.”

Jessica snickers. “Yeah, and Yoona is me and Yul’s kid. I don’t know where our fans get this stuff from, but it’s hilarious.”

“You go along with it,” Tiffany says. Jessica swears she sounds almost jealous. “You told them on the forum that Yuri’s your husband.”

“It’s just a joke.” Jessica rolls her eyes. “It’s not like Yuri’s actually my husband. She lacks…certain anatomy to fulfill that category.” She pokes Tiffany. “Besides, how is Taeyeon manly enough to be your husband?”

Tiffany giggles. “She’s manlier than me.”

“We should be a couple,” Jessica says casually. “I mean, JeTi sounds so much better than TaeNy anyway.”

“We have the rings for it.” Tiffany stretches out her hand and wiggles her fingers. Jessica feels a fierce sense of delight when she sees the ring on Tiffany’s finger.

“Yeah,” Jessica says. “And – and I love you.”

Tiffany stares at her for a long moment (is it a heartbeat or an eternity? Jessica can’t tell), before she breaks out into a wide smile. “Aww Jessi, I love you too.” She wraps her arms around Jessica and hugs her tight. “Is that why you always give me what I want?”

“Maybe,” Jessica says, afraid of the things that’ll come out of if she says too much. It’s amazing what Tiffany’s hugs can do to her. “Or maybe it’s just because I’m a nice person.”

Tiffany laughs. “You’re the nicest, Jessi,” she says, squeezing Jessica tighter before letting her go.

Jessica misses her touch already. Pathetic pathetic pathetic, she tells herself. You cannot get any sadder.

“JeTi does sound nice,” Tiffany agrees, grabbing Jessica’s hand so she can put their rings side by side. Jessica’s pulse speeds up at Tiffany’s touch, their matching rings setting off visions of white veils and long aisles in her mind, and she thinks:

Never mind. You just did.

v. (i.) “Jessica, can I talk to you for a second?” Tiffany asks her, somehow hesitant and firm at the same time.

“Sure,” Jessica says, surprised at the use of her full name. “Where do you want to—”

“Let’s go up to the roof,” Tiffany says, starting to walk as soon as Jessica nods.

When they reach the roof, Tiffany shuts the door behind them and looks around as if to make sure they’re completely alone. She takes a step closer to Jessica, and then another, and another, until Jessica’s close enough to count her eyelashes.

“Steph,” Jessica says, her voice hoarse from their proximity. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Why don’t I show you first?” Tiffany breathes, and before Jessica can even process her words, kisses her.

Jessica feels like the world’s stopped spinning. She can’t see anything except the strange lights bursting across her eyelids, can’t hear anything except the pounding of her own heart, and can’t feel anything except Tiffany, the press of her lips against Jessica’s, the intoxicating taste of her, the strands of her hair sticking to Jessica’s cheek.

“I love you,” Tiffany breathes against Jessica’s mouth, tugging her closer by her collar. Jessica feels like her skin’s erupted into flames where Tiffany’s touching her, the rest of her body contrastingly cold, aching for Tiffany’s touch.

“You—?” Jessica swallows, dry and empty of the words that she’s been holding back for so long.

“I love you, Jessica Jung,” Tiffany says, clearly and resolutely, her eyes fixed on Jessica’s. “I’ve just been… I haven’t been brave enough to tell you. But I’m tired of holding back my feelings. I want you to know how I feel.”

Jessica just keeps staring at her, afraid that if she looks away, Tiffany will disappear, fade away like a figment of Jessica’s dreams. This is probably not happening, Jessica tells herself. She must be dreaming again. She pinches herself hard on the arm and only half-swallows her yelp.

“What are you doing?” Tiffany asks her, looking torn between amusement and concern.

Jessica rubs her arm. “Okay, so I’m not dreaming,” she mutters to herself.

“Of course you’re not dreaming, babo.” Tiffany flicks her on the temple. “Why would you dream about me telling you I love you?”

“Because it’s too good to be true,” Jessica’s mouth says, faster than her brain once again. She bites down on her bottom lip hurriedly.

Tiffany’s brows furrow. “Jessi…?”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of something similar,” Jessica, fuelled by the courage of requited love, blurts out. “You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you, Steph.”

Tiffany’s eyes soften; she reaches out and tenderly brushes Jessica’s cheek with the backs of her fingers. Jessica leans into her touch without conscious thought.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Tiffany asks quietly.

“I did,” Jessica says. “I have. Just – just not when you were listening. Or awake.”

Tiffany laughs. “Jessi,” she says fondly. “I probably would have thought I was dreaming too, if you told me.”

“Well, we’re both very much awake,” Jessica says, moving closer, drinking in the way Tiffany’s pupils blow out and her lips part subconsciously. She presses her lips to Tiffany’s, feeling starved for Tiffany’s taste, and yet, the more she got, the more she wanted.

“Jessi…” Tiffany sighs her name in a way she’s never heard before (and wants to hear many, many more times). is slightly clumsy against Jessica’s, but she kisses exactly the way Jessica would imagine: warm, passionate, full of heart.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jessica whispers, tucking a lock of Tiffany’s hair behind her ear, keeping her hand on her cheek afterwards.

Tiffany simply gazes at her, eyes filled with warmth and love. “You use that line a lot?” she asks, grinning.

Jessica rolls her eyes. “Way to ruin a moment, babo,” she says, pushing Tiffany’s shoulder playfully. She hesitates, and then says sincerely, “I’ve just… I’ve wanted to tell you that for so long.”

“Jessica,” Tiffany says softly. “I’ve wanted to tell you many times too.”

“Well then…” Jessica takes her hand. “We should start catching up.”

Tiffany gives her fingers a squeeze. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

Jessica smiles at her. “We have years and years to do that, Steph. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” Tiffany says, giving Jessica a radiant smile. “I have you now.”

“You’ve always had me,” Jessica says quietly, and then, with Tiffany’s hand firmly in her own, starts the first step towards their future together.