A Ghost in Mind [Part Four]
Title: A Ghost in Mind [4/6]
Pairing(s): JeTi
Rating/Genre: NC-17; AU Angsty Romance
Warning(s): Sex.
Disclaimer: I don't own Soshi. I don't own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.
Chap. Summary: There’s more to Tiffany than meets the eye, Jessica discovers.
Author's Notes: Another rated chapter? Wuuuut. Thank you so much for the awesome feedback. Hearing from y’all means a lot. I never take a comment for granted. <3
Part Four: Jessica
--
She was missing.
Flaxen strands clung to the dew beaded upon Jessica’s brow. They were swept away with the drag of a wrist.
Where was she?
Stuck in a whirlwind of immediate confusion, Jessica wept. She’d spent the sexiest night with her, romping around the house, tasting her, feeling her pulse around her fingers...it’d been surreal and heavy and…
It wasn’t her.
God, was she losing it? Had she cooked up last night's events in her head?
Jessica lifted the edge of her comforter. Naked.
She never slept naked.
Something, someone pleasured her to the point of delirium. Fuzzy images of the sauciest smile and lips fuller, softer than hers consuming Jessica, caressing the space between her breasts. She’d never hit such strong climaxes. They ripped her into shreds, pinned her together, and ripped into her again.
But, how could that be? She was...gone.
Jessica's ring and middle finger grazed her tongue. That distinct, traceable flavor was unmistakable. Funny business went down and this essence--it wasn’t hers; it wasn’t hers, either. She sucked at a finger fully. Creative or not, she'd never conjured up a dream that lucid in her life.
A rearrangement of the pillows and pulled-back comforter from her old side of the bed set off some bells, too. Wine. Couch. Sex. Laughter. Bed...
It all came back to Jessica.
She’d left. That bitch left her alone.
The dark-haired woman had no obligation to stay, the majority of Jessica’s rational mind offered. Yet, last night unleashed her unstable, needy side. That niggling, id-driven minority. The me, me, me part of herself. It’d been dormant for so many years that she almost couldn’t understand its childish accent. What about Jessica? Me, me, me, Jessica Jung.
“Fany,” she sobbed tearlessly, rolling onto her stomach. The woman’s duffel and scattered clothes were nowhere in sight. “Tiffany.”
Jessica required comfort. A hug. Kisses.
No, she needed deeper contact. She wanted her.
But, she wanted Tiffany more.
How could that be?
She lay at her side, grazing bony knees against her chin. The beetle charm crept down the curve of her neck. It tremored under Jessica’s touch. “Fany.”
“What?”
She sat up. Tiffany stood there, shoulder propped onto the doorframe. Petulant scowl aside, the woman’s beauty tripled under sunlight churning through the blinds.
“I thought you left.”
Tiffany’s black pupils met the floor. She gave a shrug, noticeably eyeing her own fully-dressed form. “I planned on it.”
“You were going to leave?” Jessica voice bubbled with acid.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
A pillow she didn’t know she’d been holding suddenly flew at the standing woman. “Why didn’t you fucking go, then!? Just abandon me because you’re so good at it, apparently.”
Tiffany winced at the outburst. “Wouldn’t it be better if I left? We could go on with our lives.”
“That’s brilliant, Tiffany. Fucking wonderful.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good. Neither do I.” With that, Tiffany spun on her heel and slammed the bedroom door.
…
Wary to cross heated paths, Jessica went straight into the shower. Hot, penetrating streams did little to aid her mood, but the thinking time helped. She had to sort out the source of her anger. Maybe a one-night stand wasn’t such a bad thing.
However, what about sleeping with your deceased love’s ex?
Jessica cranked up the temperature. Even the most scalding shower couldn’t purify her thoughts or conscience. The small cuts in her palm stung. Skin burning, she stepped out.
After blow-drying and combing her hair until it could convince any fool into believing her to be well-adjusted, she listened for signs of life beyond the bathroom walls. She’d taken a half-hour shower and twenty minutes to moisturize and do her hair for a purpose. It provided plenty of time for Tiffany to get the hell out her apartment. Seeing her leave would hurt too much and Jessica couldn’t explain why.
She re-fastened the silver necklace, watching the beetle dance at her chest. It’d been a present from her, on account of her fear of bugs. “It’s for you,” she murmured between kisses, fingering the skillfully-crafted jasper. “Wear your fears around your neck. They’ll hurt less.”
Jessica had previously taken the bit of advice as her unique quirkiness. Though, posthumously, those words meant everything.
Contemplating when to pay Mi-Kyung another visit, she paused at the door with a start. Tiffany bounced from her bed, looking just as pissed as earlier.
“You took forever,” Tiffany snapped as she plucked the sweating mug from a desktop coaster. “I’ve been fighting that stupid fucking robot coffee machine for half an hour. Hope you like your ice half-melted.”
Stunned, Jessica double-blinked. “Decaf?”
“Hell no. I needed caffeine and so do you.”
Tiffany had changed into a shirt--Jessica’s old college t-shirt--and mesh shorts. Jessica noted the subtle tone in her leg muscles. She probably hit the gym twice a week. “Thank you.”
“Drink that. I can’t handle you lashing out at me again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“Why’s it so hard for you to accept my apologies?”
“Because you apologize too much. Don’t waste them on me.”
Not up for bickering, Jessica sipped her coffee. A little bitter. Still, she appreciated the gesture. She openly watched Tiffany until the woman began to fidget.
“You mind?”
“This,” Jessica motioned to the mug, “was really sweet of you.”
Tiffany exhaled when the blonde dipped into the spot next to her. Their legs brushed. “I made enough coffee for two, so…”
The brunette’s uncharacteristic awkwardness amused Jessica. Tiffany and she didn’t have many common attributes. The love of her life smiled easily. Used wit to make others feel good about themselves. She wasn’t too proud ask questions and she wouldn’t dare wear Louboutin pumps to a funeral. Not that she owned any.
“Are you going to stare at me all day?”
Jessica lowered her eyes to where their knees touched. “I can if you stay all day.”
“Is that a request?”
“If you want it to be.”
Tiffany quirked a finely-shaped eyebrow. “I only take demands.”
“Stay with me,” Jessica breathed into her ear, shivering at her own seductive tone, “and hold me. Please.”
“That’s what you want?”
“It’s what I need.”
Tiffany claimed a silver iPhone from a corner of the bed and eyeballed its screen. “I have to be at work in the morning. In Seoul. I, um...already called a car.”
“Are you leaving soon?”
“Eight.”
“So, you were sticking around anyway, huh?” Jessica got a smug kick out of Tiffany’s thinly veiled irritation.
“Whatever. You’re a mess. You said it yourself; you need me.”
Happiest about 11:34am lit up on her alarm clock, Jessica tugged at Tiffany’s elbow. “Get holding me, then.”
…
Tiffany’s hold was suffocating. The blonde couldn’t figure how such a slight-framed woman had the ability weigh down another human like a 500-pound Bengal. Jessica flexed her shoulder muscles, praying that she’d get the hint. Instead, Tiffany clenched tighter.
“C-comfy?” she could hardly utter.
Tiffany purred--much like a tiger--treading her nose through golden strands. “Mmhmm.”
Jessica sucked in her stomach, thumbing at the locked arm at her waist. She threw out a request to distract from her discomfort. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Do you have any tattoos?”
Tiffany snorted, lifting a hand to slap at Jessica’s thigh, ultimately releasing her victim. “You would have seen it while I was stark naked, stupid.”
“I could have missed it since I was…”
“Busy doing me against the wall?”
“Yes. That.”
“No tattoos, I’m afraid.”
She had three tattoos. A cherry blossom. Her name in Celtic script. The pi symbol. All tiny enough to hide from the general public, yet intricate enough to study, to kiss, to trace with her tongue. “Any siblings?”
“An older brother, but I hate him.”
“You hate your own brother?”
“He takes advantage of my parents’ bank accounts and they turn a blind eye because he’s their son. God, if I had a dick, I wouldn’t have to work so goddamned hard.”
Jessica nodded into the softness of a pillow. Her ears picked up on Tiffany’s voice cracking; family must be a sore spot.
“I’m relieved you don’t have one.” She reached behind herself and shyly patted at the mesh-clad mound, making her point known.
Tiffany inched in closer. “Good.”
“Have you ever been married?”
The following silence ran so long that Jessica suspected Tiffany fell asleep. With a deep sigh into her neck, she answered. “I have.”
Jessica made to turn over, but Tiffany stopped her with a squeeze. “Her name’s Bora. We had an apartment together in New York and gay marriage had just been legalized. We were young and silly and….yeah. Civilly bound for half a year.”
“I…” That question had been a joke. “didn’t know.”
“I’m a twenty-seven-year-old divorcée. Pitiful, right?”
“I’m so s--” A light slap reminded her not to finish the apology.
“We loved each other, sure--at first. Then, I came home to her bags packed. She didn’t make eye contact. Only brushed by me into the night and never returned. I got the divorce papers the next morning.”
“That’s awful.”
“She warned me. Several times. ‘You’re unlovable, Tiffany.’ ‘You no longer make me happy.’ ‘Try to make this work because I’m so tired.’ I didn’t listen. I carried on with my standard routine, assuming all marriages hit that point. I was wrong.”
Tears dotted the pillowcase before Jessica realized she started crying. “You’re not unlovable. Nobody should bear to hear those words.”
“You’ve known me for a day. Give it time.”
Jessica twisted within the circle of Tiffany’s other arm, nose-to-nose with nowhere to escape. “Fany. I endured years of my love swearing by you. I can see why.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Last night. You said you needed to be punished. If you feel remorse, you’re not the callous bitch you want everyone to think you are.”
When Tiffany sighed, the warm breath caressed Jessica’s lips.
She sighed back. “Tiffany?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you consider yourself a good person?”
“Good is overrated.”
“Be honest.”
Tiffany slid her eyes shut, lips drawn in soundlessly. A few beats later, she blinked into Jessica’s dark pupils. “Compared to Jeffrey Dahmer, sure. Compared to you, though, not at all. Women like you remind me I don’t do enough.”
“You can if you try.”
“Jessi…” Her breath caught. “Jessica. I’ll never be her.”
Jessica clamped her mouth shut, holding in a rebuttal.
“Do you think you’ll gain anything from being with me? I’m not the charitable type. I don’t volunteer; I’d rather be paid. Hell, I barely care about most people, for that matter. What would you want from someone like me?”
“Besides sex?”
“I’m serious.”
Finding no smile in Tiffany’s tone, Jessica bit the inside of her cheek in thought. “You said you’d never keep me a secret.”
“I did.”
“That was,” she stumbled, sniffing back more tears, “beautiful. My...sh-she...couldn’t even say that to me. Many adjectives fit you, Tiffany Hwang. Favorable and not. I have to say you’re sincere. And open.”
“I’m not as open as you think.”
“You can be open with me.”
Tiffany eyebrows rose, mouth parting as if she had something profound to mention. Instead, the hand left Jessica’s hip to play with the necklace.
It felt intimate. Moreso than anything they achieved while begging and naked. That tarnished chain had a direct link to her heart.
Jessica grinned. Tiffany was playing with her heart, unaware.
“Did she buy this for you?”
“No.”
“And the bug?”
“It’s a beetle.”
“Beetle, bug--they both belong on the bottom of shoes.”
Jessica snickered wetly, tinkering with the chalcedony charm over Tiffany’s soft fingers. “It’s my prized possession. I always have it on, when I’m not bathing.”
“Your life revolved around her.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
Tiffany ran a thumb across Jessica’s painted nails. Enamoured. “It is a bad thing.”
“What’s bad about love?”
“This.” Onyx eyes captured hers. “When your other half dies, you lose your identity, too. What are you looking forward to after people move on? Where do you see yourself?”
“Helping others, I guess.”
“Would it be the same? Will those events have the same excitement now that she’ll never return?”
“God, Tiffany.”
“Will they?”
“No, okay?” Her fingers shrank away from Tiffany’s, but she allowed the woman to wipe at her cheeks. “I’m obligated to go.”
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t, they’ll know.”
“Who? Know what?”
“This damn community. They’ll know I did it all for her. I showed up only to spend time with her, work with her, have something solely ours to call special. It’s selfish.”
“And being selfish is bad, I presume?”
“Of course it is.”
“Stop worrying about what’s right and wrong and do for yourself, Jessica. If not, you’re going to…” She floundered for words. “I...I don’t know. Nothing worthwhile can come from this attitude. Nobody will respect you.”
“You do.”
Tiffany’s startled expression hit harder than her frown. “I do.”
“Why do you respect me? You have enough material to have an opposite opinion.”
“Because I’m broken, Jessica. I’m a broken woman and now that your pristine exterior is shattered, I can relate with you.”
“See?” Jessica offered with a small grin.
Tiffany blinked, heartbreaking eyes unmoving.
“You are lovable, Fany. I find you lovable.”
“You--”
“I mean it.”
“You could love someone like me?”
Jessica’s breaths came out ragged and irregular, brain in overdrive--what the hell was she saying? Did she mean it? Was this another coping mechanism? “Too soon to tell.”
Gaining the upper hand at last, Tiffany’s lips spread into a smirk. One similar from their stint in the kitchen. “What if I kissed you? Or made you moan again?”
The hand touching the charm crept down to Jessica’s chest. Wasting no time, two fingertips searched for a bump through her blouse. The blonde shivered, scrambling for words clever enough to turn the tables. Her silence only spurred Tiffany on.
She rested her forehead against Jessica’s, voice husky. “I have to kiss you.”
“W-where?”
“Your lips...neck, chest...” Tiffany pushed on a moist peck. “Between your legs.”
Arousal was building up. Fast. “Is this wise? Should we--”
“Tell me what you want. Honestly.”
Vocal chords operating on their own volition, Jessica hissed out her throaty reply. “I want your body to kiss mine.”
“I can arrange that.”
“And,” She closed her eyes, letting the words escape. “Pretend that you love me.”
“I...what?”
“Make love to me. Please.”
Tiffany swallowed deeply. “Would that do us good?”
Jessica grinned a sadistic grin that she used to scorn. “On whose moral compass are we judging?”
Her naughty smile received a kiss of appreciation. The blonde pressed into the firm contact with a swipe of her tongue. Tiffany squeezed at her shoulder, rubbing clean skin with a thumb’s circular pattern.
Jessica giggled. “Am I too eager for you?”
“I’m pacing us,” Tiffany murmured, “to make this special.”
Her heart jumped, mentally calculating the weight of a word that meant the world to her. “Special?”
Tiffany was already reading her through heavily-lidded eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
The intensity of the statement both scared and excited her. “More.”
“I’m going to undress you.” Tiffany guided the tank top over Jessica’s head, scooping tresses of fair hair over a shoulder. “And roam my hands all over your body.” Her thumbnails scratched over two perked nipples. Jessica gasped. “I’ll memorize you with my tongue.” Thick hair brushed her skin as Tiffany’s head descended. “Then, as you’re panting my name in ecstasy, I’ll drink you.” Wetness surrounded a sensitive tip. She became woozy from the sensation. “Until you run dry.”
Tiffany’s mouth did wonders. Her teeth nibbled ever so slightly, conscious of their pressure. The other nipple ridged stiff and responsive against Tiffany’s palm. Jessica cradled the back of her head, deadly sure this pleasure could kill her.
With a gentle nudge, she fell to her back. Tiffany climbed on top, hot mouth traveling across her ribs. “You make me feel things, Jessica.”
“Jessi.”
“Jessi, can you feel my heart? It beats for you.”
“Are you...” She whimpered to the ceiling, accepting the pain of incisors grinding into her breast’s tender flesh. “...real?”
“Touch me and you’ll find I’m as real as you.”
By her hair, Jessica brought Tiffany to match faces. She searched the depths of her eyes. A stranger and a sexual partner. The object of her obsession. Reckless. Flighty. Fiery.
Did either of them need to be real?
Couldn’t this all be a marvelously erotic dream to help her deal, to survive?
Jessica knew better.
Their lips flowed into a languid kiss. Slow and sensual to really indulge in this non-dream. This untapped space of obligation-free satisfaction where she didn’t covet some past girlfriend entity or ignore the wedding band placed carefully on her nightstand.
A painful, relieving, fucked-up sort of comfort.
Tiffany Hwang wore her old shirt differently. It fit her lost love like a blanket--warm and snuggly, ready for a good book and a Summer nap. In heavy contrast, the worn cotton hugged every swell of Tiffany’s slim torso. Dripping sexuality. And a lot of mystery.
Jessica used one hand to rid her of the shirt and the other to pet at every centimeter of exposed skin. So supple, foreign. Even the dimples at the small of her back fascinated the pads of her fingers. Tiffany split from swollen lips, gave a sexy shiver, and dove back into their liplock. The blonde never imagined the woman to be such a kiss addict. She liked it.
Her hand ventured beneath the waistband of tiny mesh shorts. Re-activated, Tiffany’s hips moved with feral authority, seeking more intimate contact. Jessica dug her fingers into flesh, gaining a hot moan into her mouth. Mirroring her actions, Tiffany’s left hand found its way into Jessica’s pajama bottoms. Two digits wasted no time to stroke wet heat and spread the moisture up to her clit.
“Oh god,” Jessica gasped, shoving the shorts out of Tiffany’s way, “say something.”
Tiffany looked to be at a loss of words with her eyes sewn shut in the best kind of concentration. “This is all for me.”
“What is?”
“You. All of...mine.”
It wasn’t making sense, but Tiffany was so gorgeous when she spouted her clumsy sentences. “Are you claiming me?”
“Jess,” Her fingers sped up. “My actions speak louder than words.”
“Mmm, you’re right.”
Tiffany skipped no beats, tearing off her own shorts and jumping to align their legs. Apparently taking notice of her haste, she leaned over, pressing their lips together once more.. “Our bodies will kiss.”
“Please.”
“Does this come off?”
Her eyelids drooped, too aroused to quickly dissect the question, until Tiffany tugged lightly at the necklace. At once, she trapped her free hand over the piece of jewelry. “Never.”
With pause, Tiffany nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh with your apologies. I don’t require it.”
Back on track, she spread skinny legs apart and lowered herself to the apex of Jessica’s heat. They sighed collectively at the slick joining. Jessica whispered a mix of ‘incredible’ and ‘fuck’ while Tiffany’s experienced fingers spread their need for a wetter, more thorough connection. After their hips moved into place, working with slippery folds and the brushing of protruding fleshy tips, Tiffany stopped.
Jessica sat up on her elbows, gasping for air. “A-anything wrong?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think…” She sucked in a groan, smearing their sheen slow circles. “making love to you is a mistake.”
“Why, Fany?"
Tiffany rocked into a continuous, spine-tingling rhythm. Jessica’s arms gave out immediately and she drunkenly praised her through breathy moans and whines going up in decibel with each passing second.
Yes, it’s all about me, me, me, she cried internally.
At last.
Closing in on an orgasm that would raise every hair on her body, she was startled by two fists pounding into the mattress on either side of her head. Her eyelids snapped apart. She received an up-front view of Tiffany’s rosy, uninhibited expression of...Jessica wasn’t sure.
Jessica wanted to close her eyes. She couldn’t. Tiffany’s gaze had her under its spell.
“J-Jessi…”
Fear and ecstasy was a strange mixture. “Fany?”
Tiffany fisted the covers, slapping their centers together from the stable angle. They whimpered at the exquisite sensation. “Do you want me to say it?”
It. It. She knew the meaning of it. Every signal in her logical mind voted ‘no’.
Jessica, however, had a loudspeaker to the blood-pumping organ in her chest. “Say it.”
“I love you.”
Then, Jessica came undone.
Tiffany barely finished her own convulsing before rushing down to nuzzle between limp thighs and breathlessly lick. Jessica hit her peak a second, unexpected time. Her eyes shot open and her head flew to the side, roped in by an invisible string. An invisible tether that aimed her eyes on the ringless nightstand.
She envied Bora.
She envied Sungmin.
She envied her. For being able to wave her symbol of commitment to the world.
“Jessica. Shit, you're scaring me.”
Tiffany appeared before her, using soft knuckles to keep the outpour of Jessica's tears at bay. The pain in her features were tangible; she could taste it.
“Jess....”
“Hold me again.”
“Okay.”
Jessica weeped--naked, confused, distressed-- into the nook of Tiffany’s neck. Right into her pungent skin, thankful the woman asked for no explanation. Her arms were the only things keeping Jessica from splintering to shards of pathetic self-pity.
She acquired a newfound appreciation for the Bengal hug.
[Author's Note]A/N: VOTE, VOTE, VOTE!! #Sones vs. VIPS. *gasps at le drama* Round three-GO SONES!!!
Pairing(s): JeTi
Rating/Genre: NC-17; AU Angsty Romance
Warning(s): Sex.
Disclaimer: I don't own Soshi. I don't own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.
Chap. Summary: There’s more to Tiffany than meets the eye, Jessica discovers.
Author's Notes: Another rated chapter? Wuuuut. Thank you so much for the awesome feedback. Hearing from y’all means a lot. I never take a comment for granted. <3
Part Four: Jessica
--
She was missing.
Flaxen strands clung to the dew beaded upon Jessica’s brow. They were swept away with the drag of a wrist.
Where was she?
Stuck in a whirlwind of immediate confusion, Jessica wept. She’d spent the sexiest night with her, romping around the house, tasting her, feeling her pulse around her fingers...it’d been surreal and heavy and…
It wasn’t her.
God, was she losing it? Had she cooked up last night's events in her head?
Jessica lifted the edge of her comforter. Naked.
She never slept naked.
Something, someone pleasured her to the point of delirium. Fuzzy images of the sauciest smile and lips fuller, softer than hers consuming Jessica, caressing the space between her breasts. She’d never hit such strong climaxes. They ripped her into shreds, pinned her together, and ripped into her again.
But, how could that be? She was...gone.
Jessica's ring and middle finger grazed her tongue. That distinct, traceable flavor was unmistakable. Funny business went down and this essence--it wasn’t hers; it wasn’t hers, either. She sucked at a finger fully. Creative or not, she'd never conjured up a dream that lucid in her life.
A rearrangement of the pillows and pulled-back comforter from her old side of the bed set off some bells, too. Wine. Couch. Sex. Laughter. Bed...
It all came back to Jessica.
She’d left. That bitch left her alone.
The dark-haired woman had no obligation to stay, the majority of Jessica’s rational mind offered. Yet, last night unleashed her unstable, needy side. That niggling, id-driven minority. The me, me, me part of herself. It’d been dormant for so many years that she almost couldn’t understand its childish accent. What about Jessica? Me, me, me, Jessica Jung.
“Fany,” she sobbed tearlessly, rolling onto her stomach. The woman’s duffel and scattered clothes were nowhere in sight. “Tiffany.”
Jessica required comfort. A hug. Kisses.
No, she needed deeper contact. She wanted her.
But, she wanted Tiffany more.
How could that be?
She lay at her side, grazing bony knees against her chin. The beetle charm crept down the curve of her neck. It tremored under Jessica’s touch. “Fany.”
“What?”
She sat up. Tiffany stood there, shoulder propped onto the doorframe. Petulant scowl aside, the woman’s beauty tripled under sunlight churning through the blinds.
“I thought you left.”
Tiffany’s black pupils met the floor. She gave a shrug, noticeably eyeing her own fully-dressed form. “I planned on it.”
“You were going to leave?” Jessica voice bubbled with acid.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
A pillow she didn’t know she’d been holding suddenly flew at the standing woman. “Why didn’t you fucking go, then!? Just abandon me because you’re so good at it, apparently.”
Tiffany winced at the outburst. “Wouldn’t it be better if I left? We could go on with our lives.”
“That’s brilliant, Tiffany. Fucking wonderful.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good. Neither do I.” With that, Tiffany spun on her heel and slammed the bedroom door.
…
Wary to cross heated paths, Jessica went straight into the shower. Hot, penetrating streams did little to aid her mood, but the thinking time helped. She had to sort out the source of her anger. Maybe a one-night stand wasn’t such a bad thing.
However, what about sleeping with your deceased love’s ex?
Jessica cranked up the temperature. Even the most scalding shower couldn’t purify her thoughts or conscience. The small cuts in her palm stung. Skin burning, she stepped out.
After blow-drying and combing her hair until it could convince any fool into believing her to be well-adjusted, she listened for signs of life beyond the bathroom walls. She’d taken a half-hour shower and twenty minutes to moisturize and do her hair for a purpose. It provided plenty of time for Tiffany to get the hell out her apartment. Seeing her leave would hurt too much and Jessica couldn’t explain why.
She re-fastened the silver necklace, watching the beetle dance at her chest. It’d been a present from her, on account of her fear of bugs. “It’s for you,” she murmured between kisses, fingering the skillfully-crafted jasper. “Wear your fears around your neck. They’ll hurt less.”
Jessica had previously taken the bit of advice as her unique quirkiness. Though, posthumously, those words meant everything.
Contemplating when to pay Mi-Kyung another visit, she paused at the door with a start. Tiffany bounced from her bed, looking just as pissed as earlier.
“You took forever,” Tiffany snapped as she plucked the sweating mug from a desktop coaster. “I’ve been fighting that stupid fucking robot coffee machine for half an hour. Hope you like your ice half-melted.”
Stunned, Jessica double-blinked. “Decaf?”
“Hell no. I needed caffeine and so do you.”
Tiffany had changed into a shirt--Jessica’s old college t-shirt--and mesh shorts. Jessica noted the subtle tone in her leg muscles. She probably hit the gym twice a week. “Thank you.”
“Drink that. I can’t handle you lashing out at me again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“Why’s it so hard for you to accept my apologies?”
“Because you apologize too much. Don’t waste them on me.”
Not up for bickering, Jessica sipped her coffee. A little bitter. Still, she appreciated the gesture. She openly watched Tiffany until the woman began to fidget.
“You mind?”
“This,” Jessica motioned to the mug, “was really sweet of you.”
Tiffany exhaled when the blonde dipped into the spot next to her. Their legs brushed. “I made enough coffee for two, so…”
The brunette’s uncharacteristic awkwardness amused Jessica. Tiffany and she didn’t have many common attributes. The love of her life smiled easily. Used wit to make others feel good about themselves. She wasn’t too proud ask questions and she wouldn’t dare wear Louboutin pumps to a funeral. Not that she owned any.
“Are you going to stare at me all day?”
Jessica lowered her eyes to where their knees touched. “I can if you stay all day.”
“Is that a request?”
“If you want it to be.”
Tiffany quirked a finely-shaped eyebrow. “I only take demands.”
“Stay with me,” Jessica breathed into her ear, shivering at her own seductive tone, “and hold me. Please.”
“That’s what you want?”
“It’s what I need.”
Tiffany claimed a silver iPhone from a corner of the bed and eyeballed its screen. “I have to be at work in the morning. In Seoul. I, um...already called a car.”
“Are you leaving soon?”
“Eight.”
“So, you were sticking around anyway, huh?” Jessica got a smug kick out of Tiffany’s thinly veiled irritation.
“Whatever. You’re a mess. You said it yourself; you need me.”
Happiest about 11:34am lit up on her alarm clock, Jessica tugged at Tiffany’s elbow. “Get holding me, then.”
…
Tiffany’s hold was suffocating. The blonde couldn’t figure how such a slight-framed woman had the ability weigh down another human like a 500-pound Bengal. Jessica flexed her shoulder muscles, praying that she’d get the hint. Instead, Tiffany clenched tighter.
“C-comfy?” she could hardly utter.
Tiffany purred--much like a tiger--treading her nose through golden strands. “Mmhmm.”
Jessica sucked in her stomach, thumbing at the locked arm at her waist. She threw out a request to distract from her discomfort. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Do you have any tattoos?”
Tiffany snorted, lifting a hand to slap at Jessica’s thigh, ultimately releasing her victim. “You would have seen it while I was stark naked, stupid.”
“I could have missed it since I was…”
“Busy doing me against the wall?”
“Yes. That.”
“No tattoos, I’m afraid.”
She had three tattoos. A cherry blossom. Her name in Celtic script. The pi symbol. All tiny enough to hide from the general public, yet intricate enough to study, to kiss, to trace with her tongue. “Any siblings?”
“An older brother, but I hate him.”
“You hate your own brother?”
“He takes advantage of my parents’ bank accounts and they turn a blind eye because he’s their son. God, if I had a dick, I wouldn’t have to work so goddamned hard.”
Jessica nodded into the softness of a pillow. Her ears picked up on Tiffany’s voice cracking; family must be a sore spot.
“I’m relieved you don’t have one.” She reached behind herself and shyly patted at the mesh-clad mound, making her point known.
Tiffany inched in closer. “Good.”
“Have you ever been married?”
The following silence ran so long that Jessica suspected Tiffany fell asleep. With a deep sigh into her neck, she answered. “I have.”
Jessica made to turn over, but Tiffany stopped her with a squeeze. “Her name’s Bora. We had an apartment together in New York and gay marriage had just been legalized. We were young and silly and….yeah. Civilly bound for half a year.”
“I…” That question had been a joke. “didn’t know.”
“I’m a twenty-seven-year-old divorcée. Pitiful, right?”
“I’m so s--” A light slap reminded her not to finish the apology.
“We loved each other, sure--at first. Then, I came home to her bags packed. She didn’t make eye contact. Only brushed by me into the night and never returned. I got the divorce papers the next morning.”
“That’s awful.”
“She warned me. Several times. ‘You’re unlovable, Tiffany.’ ‘You no longer make me happy.’ ‘Try to make this work because I’m so tired.’ I didn’t listen. I carried on with my standard routine, assuming all marriages hit that point. I was wrong.”
Tears dotted the pillowcase before Jessica realized she started crying. “You’re not unlovable. Nobody should bear to hear those words.”
“You’ve known me for a day. Give it time.”
Jessica twisted within the circle of Tiffany’s other arm, nose-to-nose with nowhere to escape. “Fany. I endured years of my love swearing by you. I can see why.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Last night. You said you needed to be punished. If you feel remorse, you’re not the callous bitch you want everyone to think you are.”
When Tiffany sighed, the warm breath caressed Jessica’s lips.
She sighed back. “Tiffany?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you consider yourself a good person?”
“Good is overrated.”
“Be honest.”
Tiffany slid her eyes shut, lips drawn in soundlessly. A few beats later, she blinked into Jessica’s dark pupils. “Compared to Jeffrey Dahmer, sure. Compared to you, though, not at all. Women like you remind me I don’t do enough.”
“You can if you try.”
“Jessi…” Her breath caught. “Jessica. I’ll never be her.”
Jessica clamped her mouth shut, holding in a rebuttal.
“Do you think you’ll gain anything from being with me? I’m not the charitable type. I don’t volunteer; I’d rather be paid. Hell, I barely care about most people, for that matter. What would you want from someone like me?”
“Besides sex?”
“I’m serious.”
Finding no smile in Tiffany’s tone, Jessica bit the inside of her cheek in thought. “You said you’d never keep me a secret.”
“I did.”
“That was,” she stumbled, sniffing back more tears, “beautiful. My...sh-she...couldn’t even say that to me. Many adjectives fit you, Tiffany Hwang. Favorable and not. I have to say you’re sincere. And open.”
“I’m not as open as you think.”
“You can be open with me.”
Tiffany eyebrows rose, mouth parting as if she had something profound to mention. Instead, the hand left Jessica’s hip to play with the necklace.
It felt intimate. Moreso than anything they achieved while begging and naked. That tarnished chain had a direct link to her heart.
Jessica grinned. Tiffany was playing with her heart, unaware.
“Did she buy this for you?”
“No.”
“And the bug?”
“It’s a beetle.”
“Beetle, bug--they both belong on the bottom of shoes.”
Jessica snickered wetly, tinkering with the chalcedony charm over Tiffany’s soft fingers. “It’s my prized possession. I always have it on, when I’m not bathing.”
“Your life revolved around her.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
Tiffany ran a thumb across Jessica’s painted nails. Enamoured. “It is a bad thing.”
“What’s bad about love?”
“This.” Onyx eyes captured hers. “When your other half dies, you lose your identity, too. What are you looking forward to after people move on? Where do you see yourself?”
“Helping others, I guess.”
“Would it be the same? Will those events have the same excitement now that she’ll never return?”
“God, Tiffany.”
“Will they?”
“No, okay?” Her fingers shrank away from Tiffany’s, but she allowed the woman to wipe at her cheeks. “I’m obligated to go.”
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t, they’ll know.”
“Who? Know what?”
“This damn community. They’ll know I did it all for her. I showed up only to spend time with her, work with her, have something solely ours to call special. It’s selfish.”
“And being selfish is bad, I presume?”
“Of course it is.”
“Stop worrying about what’s right and wrong and do for yourself, Jessica. If not, you’re going to…” She floundered for words. “I...I don’t know. Nothing worthwhile can come from this attitude. Nobody will respect you.”
“You do.”
Tiffany’s startled expression hit harder than her frown. “I do.”
“Why do you respect me? You have enough material to have an opposite opinion.”
“Because I’m broken, Jessica. I’m a broken woman and now that your pristine exterior is shattered, I can relate with you.”
“See?” Jessica offered with a small grin.
Tiffany blinked, heartbreaking eyes unmoving.
“You are lovable, Fany. I find you lovable.”
“You--”
“I mean it.”
“You could love someone like me?”
Jessica’s breaths came out ragged and irregular, brain in overdrive--what the hell was she saying? Did she mean it? Was this another coping mechanism? “Too soon to tell.”
Gaining the upper hand at last, Tiffany’s lips spread into a smirk. One similar from their stint in the kitchen. “What if I kissed you? Or made you moan again?”
The hand touching the charm crept down to Jessica’s chest. Wasting no time, two fingertips searched for a bump through her blouse. The blonde shivered, scrambling for words clever enough to turn the tables. Her silence only spurred Tiffany on.
She rested her forehead against Jessica’s, voice husky. “I have to kiss you.”
“W-where?”
“Your lips...neck, chest...” Tiffany pushed on a moist peck. “Between your legs.”
Arousal was building up. Fast. “Is this wise? Should we--”
“Tell me what you want. Honestly.”
Vocal chords operating on their own volition, Jessica hissed out her throaty reply. “I want your body to kiss mine.”
“I can arrange that.”
“And,” She closed her eyes, letting the words escape. “Pretend that you love me.”
“I...what?”
“Make love to me. Please.”
Tiffany swallowed deeply. “Would that do us good?”
Jessica grinned a sadistic grin that she used to scorn. “On whose moral compass are we judging?”
Her naughty smile received a kiss of appreciation. The blonde pressed into the firm contact with a swipe of her tongue. Tiffany squeezed at her shoulder, rubbing clean skin with a thumb’s circular pattern.
Jessica giggled. “Am I too eager for you?”
“I’m pacing us,” Tiffany murmured, “to make this special.”
Her heart jumped, mentally calculating the weight of a word that meant the world to her. “Special?”
Tiffany was already reading her through heavily-lidded eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
The intensity of the statement both scared and excited her. “More.”
“I’m going to undress you.” Tiffany guided the tank top over Jessica’s head, scooping tresses of fair hair over a shoulder. “And roam my hands all over your body.” Her thumbnails scratched over two perked nipples. Jessica gasped. “I’ll memorize you with my tongue.” Thick hair brushed her skin as Tiffany’s head descended. “Then, as you’re panting my name in ecstasy, I’ll drink you.” Wetness surrounded a sensitive tip. She became woozy from the sensation. “Until you run dry.”
Tiffany’s mouth did wonders. Her teeth nibbled ever so slightly, conscious of their pressure. The other nipple ridged stiff and responsive against Tiffany’s palm. Jessica cradled the back of her head, deadly sure this pleasure could kill her.
With a gentle nudge, she fell to her back. Tiffany climbed on top, hot mouth traveling across her ribs. “You make me feel things, Jessica.”
“Jessi.”
“Jessi, can you feel my heart? It beats for you.”
“Are you...” She whimpered to the ceiling, accepting the pain of incisors grinding into her breast’s tender flesh. “...real?”
“Touch me and you’ll find I’m as real as you.”
By her hair, Jessica brought Tiffany to match faces. She searched the depths of her eyes. A stranger and a sexual partner. The object of her obsession. Reckless. Flighty. Fiery.
Did either of them need to be real?
Couldn’t this all be a marvelously erotic dream to help her deal, to survive?
Jessica knew better.
Their lips flowed into a languid kiss. Slow and sensual to really indulge in this non-dream. This untapped space of obligation-free satisfaction where she didn’t covet some past girlfriend entity or ignore the wedding band placed carefully on her nightstand.
A painful, relieving, fucked-up sort of comfort.
Tiffany Hwang wore her old shirt differently. It fit her lost love like a blanket--warm and snuggly, ready for a good book and a Summer nap. In heavy contrast, the worn cotton hugged every swell of Tiffany’s slim torso. Dripping sexuality. And a lot of mystery.
Jessica used one hand to rid her of the shirt and the other to pet at every centimeter of exposed skin. So supple, foreign. Even the dimples at the small of her back fascinated the pads of her fingers. Tiffany split from swollen lips, gave a sexy shiver, and dove back into their liplock. The blonde never imagined the woman to be such a kiss addict. She liked it.
Her hand ventured beneath the waistband of tiny mesh shorts. Re-activated, Tiffany’s hips moved with feral authority, seeking more intimate contact. Jessica dug her fingers into flesh, gaining a hot moan into her mouth. Mirroring her actions, Tiffany’s left hand found its way into Jessica’s pajama bottoms. Two digits wasted no time to stroke wet heat and spread the moisture up to her clit.
“Oh god,” Jessica gasped, shoving the shorts out of Tiffany’s way, “say something.”
Tiffany looked to be at a loss of words with her eyes sewn shut in the best kind of concentration. “This is all for me.”
“What is?”
“You. All of...mine.”
It wasn’t making sense, but Tiffany was so gorgeous when she spouted her clumsy sentences. “Are you claiming me?”
“Jess,” Her fingers sped up. “My actions speak louder than words.”
“Mmm, you’re right.”
Tiffany skipped no beats, tearing off her own shorts and jumping to align their legs. Apparently taking notice of her haste, she leaned over, pressing their lips together once more.. “Our bodies will kiss.”
“Please.”
“Does this come off?”
Her eyelids drooped, too aroused to quickly dissect the question, until Tiffany tugged lightly at the necklace. At once, she trapped her free hand over the piece of jewelry. “Never.”
With pause, Tiffany nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh with your apologies. I don’t require it.”
Back on track, she spread skinny legs apart and lowered herself to the apex of Jessica’s heat. They sighed collectively at the slick joining. Jessica whispered a mix of ‘incredible’ and ‘fuck’ while Tiffany’s experienced fingers spread their need for a wetter, more thorough connection. After their hips moved into place, working with slippery folds and the brushing of protruding fleshy tips, Tiffany stopped.
Jessica sat up on her elbows, gasping for air. “A-anything wrong?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think…” She sucked in a groan, smearing their sheen slow circles. “making love to you is a mistake.”
“Why, Fany?"
Tiffany rocked into a continuous, spine-tingling rhythm. Jessica’s arms gave out immediately and she drunkenly praised her through breathy moans and whines going up in decibel with each passing second.
Yes, it’s all about me, me, me, she cried internally.
At last.
Closing in on an orgasm that would raise every hair on her body, she was startled by two fists pounding into the mattress on either side of her head. Her eyelids snapped apart. She received an up-front view of Tiffany’s rosy, uninhibited expression of...Jessica wasn’t sure.
Jessica wanted to close her eyes. She couldn’t. Tiffany’s gaze had her under its spell.
“J-Jessi…”
Fear and ecstasy was a strange mixture. “Fany?”
Tiffany fisted the covers, slapping their centers together from the stable angle. They whimpered at the exquisite sensation. “Do you want me to say it?”
It. It. She knew the meaning of it. Every signal in her logical mind voted ‘no’.
Jessica, however, had a loudspeaker to the blood-pumping organ in her chest. “Say it.”
“I love you.”
Then, Jessica came undone.
Tiffany barely finished her own convulsing before rushing down to nuzzle between limp thighs and breathlessly lick. Jessica hit her peak a second, unexpected time. Her eyes shot open and her head flew to the side, roped in by an invisible string. An invisible tether that aimed her eyes on the ringless nightstand.
She envied Bora.
She envied Sungmin.
She envied her. For being able to wave her symbol of commitment to the world.
“Jessica. Shit, you're scaring me.”
Tiffany appeared before her, using soft knuckles to keep the outpour of Jessica's tears at bay. The pain in her features were tangible; she could taste it.
“Jess....”
“Hold me again.”
“Okay.”
Jessica weeped--naked, confused, distressed-- into the nook of Tiffany’s neck. Right into her pungent skin, thankful the woman asked for no explanation. Her arms were the only things keeping Jessica from splintering to shards of pathetic self-pity.
She acquired a newfound appreciation for the Bengal hug.
[Author's Note]A/N: VOTE, VOTE, VOTE!! #Sones vs. VIPS. *gasps at le drama* Round three-GO SONES!!!