A Ghost in Mind [Part Six] [Complete]
Title: A Ghost in Mind [6/6]
Pairing(s): JeTi
Rating/Genre: R; AU Angsty Romance
Warning(s): Sex and language.
Disclaimer: I don't own Soshi. I don't own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.
Chap. Summary: Tiffany ties up loose ends.
Author's Notes: Happy Birthday to Tiffanyyyyy!!!! So, here’s the final chappie of this multishot. Thanks for joining me on my first angst adventure. xDD Hey lurker bbs--please tell me what you think if you have the time. I’d like to say hi. ^^
Part Six: Tiffany
--
As behemoth skyscrapers blocked the heavens and metro hums settled into Tiffany’s ears, the woman finally released a calming sigh. No more flat, barren expanses of earth or columns of unplanned trees. Too quiet; they gave her too much incentive to think.
Not that Tiffany hadn’t been haunted within her mind anyway.
She’d packed her bags to spend a night in her tiny hometown for a set list of reasons: closure on Sunny’s death, to get questions answered, and to spy on Jessica.
Upon her return, the blonde occupied the greatest mind space.
How the hell did she get hooked up with this woman? She snorted at the cosmic joke of it all. So ready to pounce at the bitch, then slipped and fell into those deep brown eyes. That light, lyrical voice. Her life-altering, molecule-merging touch.
Oh god, her touch. After their first brush of noses, she knew she was a goner. She could take permanent residence on Jessica’s lips.
Damn you Sunny, her body growled, damn you for having superb taste in women.
Oh, Sunny.
Images of the playground, Jessica’s beetle, imagined footage of a totaled Hyundai flashed behind Tiffany's eyelids and she quickly jerked her pupils to the window. Passing buildings and nameless Koreans couldn’t hurt her. Not like that.
If only she’d had a chance to say goodbye to her Sunny. Her beloved teenage troublemaker.
+Back in Seoul now. Get some sleep.
Tiffany drummed her pointer finger nail onto the iPhone case. The text conversation with Jessica went slowly, as if neither of them wanted to reveal too much. A text or two here and there.
Normally, this wouldn’t do. Tiffany Hwang was a woman of business; say what you need and get to the point. No dawdling--no nonsense. Yet, here was this aimless chat, simply a reminder of each other’s presence. In any other case, she’d call their exchange a waste of time.
Then, her phone buzzed and she raced to gobble up every pixelated character.
+In bed now.
She’d love nothing more than to curl in the sheets with Jessica. Sexually or not--whichever. The scent of organic lychee clung to Tiffany’s tresses since she stole a shower that morning, but on Jessica--she briefly closed her eyes and purred--it was intoxicating.
Experiencing that stint of PDA through the car window had wrung the woman of her last bit of self-preservation. To give zero fucks like that; demanding property of Tiffany's lips in spite of those gawking, unworldly types. The same someone who’d looked ready to bolt from a hand hold hid an untapped confidence reeling through her hands and tongue. Sexy as hell.
Tiffany wanted to say so. Type up a maximum-capacity text about how she wished to turn that car around and kiss her to sleep. Though, she had to keep some proverbial cards to her chest.
+I’ll text you in the morning, kay?
+Please do, Fany. I miss you.
+Same.
A slow grin spread to both her ears while she caressed teal numbers painted down her forearm. Willing to admit it aloud or not, one fact made itself clear as day:
Tiffany had it bad for Jessica Jung.
…
For the following days, she floated through the usual motions at work.
Sweet talk clients. Put out PR-threatening fires. Finalize paperwork. Smile boredly at the boss’s misogynist punchlines. Snark at her secretary. Habitually check the clock through impromptu meetings. Futilely swear against high heels. Feign interest in her driver’s talks about family.
Only thing that kept her going were messages from Jessica.
Thursday morning, she switched it up. Tiffany didn’t mean to call her; just a last-second slip of a thumb. At least that’d be her story if Jessica seemed displeased.
Tiffany locked herself in her office, preserving the sanctity of their discourse. Last thing she wanted was her buxom secretary strolling in, inanely speculating if Jin-Young from Accounting noticed her new lip injections.
“This is better than a text,” Jessica echoed from the line.
“It is.” The blonde alluded to a confrontation with Sungmin and still hadn't forked over more details. “How are you?”
“Busy. Woke up early to get some cleaning done”
“Boring.”
“A little...you have a nice phone voice.”
“Cut it out,” Tiffany huffed, treading fingertips across the spines of untouched proposals. “I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s making me a shitty worker.”
“Sorry.”
“Damn right you should be sorry.”
Even over the phone, Jessica’s laugh made her ears ring. “Get back to your monotonous files and figures, then.”
“Don’t knock my real job, poet.”
Jessica's tone remained sincere. “Thanks for staying in touch, Fany. It cheers me up.”
“N-no problem.” Tiffany said her goodbyes, scrutinizing the smartphone afterwards. Its screen blinked to darkness and she was too deep in her daydream to notice.
She hadn’t made a personal phone call on work hours since Bora.
That damned divorce. Some ghosts were built of flesh; Tiffany’s took form in stacks of legal documents.
“Pull over here,” Tiffany barked to her driver that evening, eliciting a head-bobbing halt. She massaged her neck as she bolted to a small bookstore, shouting out orders to keep the motor running.
…
Most of Jessica’s poems were about love.
Pieces on sacrifice, nature, and ponderings were littered about, but her lean towards the subject of love dominated both her books.
Tiffany pushed the reading glasses up the bridge of her nose, skimming through stanzas and marking pages that piqued her interest. These skillfully chosen words meant much more than that of a casual reader’s point of view. They were intimate. Likened to browsing through somebody’s diary.
As flowery as Tiffany considered Jessica’s so-called-profession, she acknowledged the woman’s gift as a writer. Breezy colors, Converses, loaded glimpses--she could visualize skinny pale legs pumping on a swing set, contrasting with the twilight air. Soft, newly tinted hair running through her fingers, tickling her palms with the slight curl at the ends. The intricacies of her naked body--how nudity between the two maintained an air of wonder. The words had life to them, something tangible.
Her poetry lacked pronouns to these objects of her affection. It gave the reader chances to conjure up mental images of their own memories through her perspective. Tiffany ignored how the writer herself permeated every syllable that moved her responsive heart.
To divert attention from this, she dissected the angrier passages. Cynical comments, doubtful syntax exhibited a darkness that threw her for a loop. Jessica was full of surprises, indeed.
Some of her antagonists were vaguely masculine, if one squinted hard enough. Without a doubt frustration towards Sungmin and society’s erring loyalty to tradition. And then there tumbled bouts of envy hidden within past tense verbs. Probably about Tiffany.
She uncapped a red ballpoint pen and underlined anything pertaining to this “god-like, unreachable” standard. Jessica really did harbor ill will for years on end. All the unintentional cameos strangely flattered Tiffany on a human’s basic level of self-indulgence. At the same time--damn. Her mere existence prevented Sunny from establishing a 100% connection with the people who’d sacrifice themselves in her stead if given the opportunity.
Jessica never had Sunny fully to herself. What a cruel fate.
That relationship was downright toxic, Tiffany reckoned. It had to end and an unforgiving universe corrected itself. Tragically.
Tiffany tried to reason with her heart. To look outside those uncontainable feelings to rationalize her relationship with Jessica. She could easily view herself as a surrogate girlfriend. An upgraded placeholder to deal with Sunny’s absence. Someone who didn’t get dressed after lovemaking to go home to a man. A woman able to lie blissfully in unclean sheets for a chat in hoarse morning voices.
Yes, that’d explain everything.
Except…
She wouldn’t accept that cold analysis.
“You know I like you, right, Fany?”
One shower later, her head landed into a goose-down pillow. She tied the damp mass of hair into a sloppy ponytail and counted the textured speckles on her ceiling, twisting a finger into the hem of her hunter green tee. Speck 178 blended with 177 and 179 before she decided her little game sucked. Merely distractions for what she really wanted to do.
What was stopping her, really?
Maybe a hint of guilt or even jealousy on Sunny’s behalf? Was there a special place in the reincarnation mill for post-death girlfriend stealers to be brought back as earthworms or tarantulas?
She rolled her eyes. How bogus.
That lovemaking sexual role play happened so instinctively. To the point of her arousal-induced professions crossing the murky line into full-blown honesty and bona fide wishes. She fucking claimed her like a psycho.
“Fuck it,” Tiffany concluded, sending a message that’d been sitting in her draft folder for days.
+Come fall asleep in my arms.
If Sunny’s passing taught her anything, it’d be that life was too short.
…
Tiffany woke up the next morning pissed off. She’d fallen asleep sitting up, a paperback of Jessica’s poems bent open in her hands. Her nose strip--cemented from its overnight stay--hurt like hell as she nearly flayed herself in its removal. The ponytail tangled her hair in the worst way. On top of it all, she had an overwhelming sense of dread from sending that text. Jessica was rightfully stressed by a homophobic community and the death of her long-term partner. Why the fuck should she be pressured into cuddling?
Dreading a nasty response, Tiffany stuffed her phone--unread messages and all--into her Hermes handbag and vowed to deal with that later.
“Later” occurred sooner than she bargained for as she passed a particularly familiar head of golden hair in her haste.
No, it couldn’t be.
She waved at her driver who’d propped himself on the side of the black vehicle. He swung into the car upon hearing her voice, backing into an unoccupied space upon the curb.
Tiffany thanked him profusely, but couldn’t force herself to get inside.
“Never mind, Shindong.” She pushed the door shut. “Take the day off.”
He sighed out of relief or annoyance--Tiffany didn’t care to double check-- before she retraced her steps into the apartment building. The pristinely painted bottoms of her Louboutins scuffed while mounting flights of stairs and she winced at every instance. She caught an elevator on the fourth floor and drummed her nails anxiously for the remainder of the ride.
Then, double doors slid open.
And the view of Jessica standing at her front door was worth a warehouse full of overpriced stilettos.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, lacking all coolness while clicking over to the woman.
She grinned and sipped through a clear straw. “I wanted to surprise you before you headed to work, but here you are--surprising me.”
“You would've missed me, stupid.” Tiffany nodded to a second coffee nestled in Jessica’s arm. “Is that for me?”
“Not if you call me stupid, you bitch.”
Tiffany giggled, noticing how Jessica’s face softened right after. “What?”
“You’re smiling with your eyes again.”
“I’d rather kiss you with my mouth.”
Jessica easing forward granted all the incentive she needed to cup her face into an overdue kiss. Slow and tender, the velvety caresses brought a shudder from Tiffany’s stomach. Her tongue stroked her bottom lip, sampling its subtle texture. Jessica pulled away with a smile.
“Do you want your coffee?”
“Sure.” Tiffany pushed a key into her door handle, promptly tugging Jessica in her apartment by the hand. “It hasn’t been a week yet.”
“I know.”
“So, why are you here early?” She’d given Jessica her address the day after she arrived to Seoul; though, she would have liked a warning to spruce up her place. Both iced coffees were deposited on the kitchen counter. “I wanted to buy the supplies for cocada.”
“Can we talk about that later?”
“Everything’s okay, yeah?”
“Stop worrying, Fany.” Jessica smoothed a crease in the other woman's top. “I recall a special someone offering arms to hold me.”
“That’d be me.”
“Your place is really nice, by the way. Swanky.”
“I’m a classy lady.”
“That’s why you bought my books, right?”
Tiffany looked away, suddenly warm all over. “God, why’d I tell you that?”
“Don’t know.” An air of shyness reflected in her dark eyes. “Maybe you like me, too.”
Now that she had Jessica standing there, in the flesh, Tiffany couldn’t decide how to conduct herself. She immediately regretted kicking off her heels to make them eye level, for she’d already let a few awkward sides of herself squeak by whenever Jessica stared too intently. Everything about her gaze ruined Tiffany’s resolve. “Or I felt bad for you. Poets aren’t exactly in demand...appreciate my patronage.”
“Is this your businesswoman attire? You look like a politician.”
“Excuse you. This is J.Crew.”
“You and those labels.” Jessica ran a lone finger down the pleat of her midnight pencil skirt.
Tiffany read the underlying sadness in her tone; she didn’t want to pry too much. “Are you and Sungmin talking?”
“Not anymore.”
“Ah.”
“Life is changing,” she went on, moreso in a mumble, but loud enough for Tiffany to pick up, “shifts in tides, moods growing bitter, loss of lifelines...”
Poetry talk again. “You need time to heal, Jessica.”
“Jessi.”
“Jessi,” She rested her head on Jessica’s shoulder, swaying in their loose embrace. “Your heart will mend with mine, okay?”
“Is your heart broken?”
“A few battle scars. Couple bruises. Nothing I can’t handle.”
The tip of Jessica’s nose traveled down the slope of Tiffany's perfumed shoulder. “So strong.”
“Hey,” She guided their foreheads together. “Stop that. You’re so much braver me. I went the cowards’ route and ran away.”
“You had college.”
Tiffany smirked at the same excuse she’d made in the past. “It went beyond that, Jessi. I was too scared to admit I fell out of love.”
Jessica frowned, realization slowly shaping her light features.
“I fell for a Sunny that no longer existed in my dumbest years. We may as well have fallen for two completely different individuals. I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Who knows? I just feel sorry. So...I’m sorry, Jessi. She wasn’t right for you.”
“Do you believe in soulmates?”
“No.”
Jessica twirled long raven bangs around each finger as her hushed voice seized Tiffany’s senses. “Well, I do. So did Sunny. And...I feel like we get multiple chances for true love.”
“You believe in second soulmates?”
“I do now.”
Tiffany gulped down her own heart. Her pupils dilated to take in the beauty who appeared just as startled by what she implied. “Make love to me?”
“Is that a demand?”
“No, Jessi. I’m asking permission. Please.”
After leaving a moment to process, the blonde engulfed Tiffany’s lips within her own, gently sucking both pieces of flesh into the warmth of her mouth. Tiffany surrendered to the pleasure; she had no choice in the matter. Her eyes fluttered closed as her instincts took precedence, blindly leading Jessica into her bedroom.
Unmade folds of duvet bounced once they made contact with the bed. Tiffany ground her hips between Jessica’s legs, scratching rounded nails into blue jeans. Jessica felt so good. Even when dressed. She circled her tongue into the depths of the woman’s throat, drunk off insistent, airy moans.
Jessica palmed Tiffany’s snugly-sealed backside. The fabric further held the dark-haired woman prisoner as she lazily patted for a zipper.
“Baby, it zips from the side.”
“Mmm. Give me a hand, then, baby.”
Tiffany sobered for a moment, only to smirk at her lover’s mild teasing. “You do it.”
“Fine,” Jessica sighed, snapping in an upright sitting pose to grasp the little metal tab with her teeth. As the zip went down, Tiffany struggled not to ravish her completely. Jessica was full of surprises and her loins ached to unlock them all.
They bared Tiffany from the waist down, panting from staggering impatience. Tiffany careened upon her knees while Jessica fumbled through each tiny button of her collared blouse.
“Just rip it open.”
“But, it’s J.Crew.”
“Like I give a damn.”
Buttons skitted onto the floor like fleeing creatures and Jessica lapped eagerly through the red lace of her bra. Tiffany fisted blonde strands, so sure she’d faint if she didn’t get that mouth to dive south soon. She whined, distracted by a slithering tongue catching contact with her nipple. “Jessi…”
Jessica grunted at her name, unfastening the delicate bra for tastier access.
“I need…” Tiffany threw her head back to wince at the teeth denting her flesh. “Jessica, I need it.”
“Wait.” The blonde shed herself of a Beatles tee and re-latched onto the protruding bud.
Just the desperate swivels of her tongue could be Tiffany’s undoing. This slow burn thing worked so much better when she was the one dishing out the actions, setting their pace. Any moment sooner and she’d be begging for a fuck rather than lovemaking. Weren’t they all going for the same endgame anyway?
“Stay on top like this,” Jessica cooed, stripping off her last leg of denim. “You’re like a sexy conqueror. So damn flawless.”
Tiffany’s head went dizzy with desire. “Jess...your tongue or, or your fingers.”
“Like this?”
She blinked questions until her pupils traveled to Jessica’s lap where her hand lay palm up, three fingers poised and ready. The blonde’s intuition tugged at her fast-beating heart. “God, yes.”
"Do it, gorgeous."
Tiffany descended, mouthing moans too intense to verbalize as Jessica’s fingers filled her to the brim. She paused momentarily, letting Jessica adjust the angle of her wrist. Her breath hitched at the wetness that brushed her palm at every tentative rock of Tiffany's hips.
“Fany, we fit together like you were tailor-made for me.”
“No, Jessi,” Tiffany breathed, steadying her slender grip on the other woman’s shoulders for leverage. “We were meant for each other.”
She could have sworn Jessica got off from that simple statement, but her mind was too numb with pleasure to analyze it. Riding, grinding, setting her own speed for those delicate appendages to mimic, she held in her orgasm as long as she could because as mind-numbing this one would be, she wanted their bonding to last forever.
Eventually, the rope to her release did snap. Full lips landed on Jessica’s and slick breasts meshed in the impact. Tiffany's tongue found shelter in her lover’s mouth for several minutes. Jessica Jung’s natural flavor left her confounded by its addictive potential.
“Do you want me to say it?” she whispered, slowly withdrawing her glossy digits.
Tiffany smiled stupidly. “Are you thinking it?”
“I’m afraid to say yes.”
“Then, tell me when you’re comfortable, Jessi. I’ll wait.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you have any ideas on how to thank me?”
Her smile was absolutely naughty when she flipped Tiffany onto her back. “Only one way.”
Jessica kissed down the length of her body. Tiffany never thought she’d get fuzzy feelings from the sight and feeling of messy golden hair sweeping her abs and the welcomed coolness of a hungry tongue exploring her intimately.
Actions surely did speak louder than words.
…
“Fany?”
Tiffany blinked from her slumber, rubbing at a sleepy eyelid. “What’s up?”
From her posture, Jessica had clearly been awake for a while. Trying not to fret, Tiffany her burrowed her face between her breasts, squeezing needy arms around Jessica’s waist.
“Talk to me, Jessi.”
“Sunny...” She drew in a corner of her lip, giving it a self-conscious nibble. “She and I weren’t as careful as we thought.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Her mother knew about us.”
Tiffany searched Jessica’s dark brown eyes. “For how long?”
“No clue. At least since the wedding day.”
“And she kept it under wraps because…”
“I guess I wasn’t a threat to the family with Sungmin calling the shots. Nowadays, I jeopardize Sunny's legacy.”
“People talk.”
“Yes, they do.”
She kissed the top of Jessica’s breast. “What happens now?”
“I’m moving out of that old apartment.” Jessica petted Tiffany’s head, letting the words sink in. “There’s nothing left for me there.”
“You’ll stay in Seoul?”
“Exclusively.”
“That has to hurt, Jessi.”
She nodded. “It does. I’ve been packing boxes, cleaning the rooms, and contacting a potential buyer, so I’ve been busy.”
“You’re not done yet, right?”
“Nope. I’ll make a trip back there tomorrow. Someone convinced me to take a day off in the city.”
“That someone sounds like she’s got a good head on her shoulders.” Tiffany lips trailed up her chest, to her collarbone and--she stopped. “Your necklace is missing.”
Jessica grazed where the charm would usually dangle. “I kept it in my jewelry box for the first time today.”
“You’re taking big steps.”
“I have help.” Jessica winked, instantly breaking out into laughter at Tiffany’s sudden blush. “Fany, you’re so cute.”
“Fuck you. Cute is reserved for babies and Welsh Corgis. I’m sexy, bitch.”
She leaned forward, snatching jeans hanging from the edge of the bed. Out of one pocket came a vaguely familiar square of thin material. “You’re pretty cute here.”
The middle school picture. Tiffany sat up, gaping at their younger faces; this was a Sunny that she remembered. Black hair, untamed eyebrows, and her craziest smile. “How’d you get this?”
“A final visit to Mi-Kyung. Had to return her typewriter and pick up some things. Very awkward, you can imagine.”
“Are you writing again?”
“Snippets. Sweet little gems I can’t ignore.”
“About what?”
“Whom, you mean.”
They grinned quietly, averting their eyes to the duvet pattern.
“You know, I’m realizing that I owned nothing of Sunny’s until now. Thanks.” Tiffany blinked back tears as she bumped Jessica with a shoulder. She gave the picture a longer look, cringing at her unfortunate brace-face. “Ask me again if I have any regrets.”
“What do you regret, Fany?”
“Not giving a proper farewell at her funeral. I was too busy being suspicious and pissy at you for stealing my ‘dearest friend’ title. I couldn’t even watch her casket go into the ground.”
Jessica pressed a soft peck onto Tiffany’s temple. “Join me on my ride back. We could hang out for the day and make those cocadas.”
“Why not make them here?”
“Because she’s not here.”
Immediately comprehending, Tiffany climbed out of bed to tack the cherished image on the corner of her full-length mirror. Jessica agreed it was the perfect placement. She stuck her hands on her hips, proud to have a happy piece of her past smiling back at her.
…
Ghosts.
Either in photographs or coffees. Bedsheets or counter tops. College tees or wedding dresses. Anywhere, really. Except cemeteries, oddly enough.
That’s how Tiffany saw it.
She didn’t believe in apparitions, per se. But ghosts--definitely. They were located in every person’s mind, projected onto new and old junk that held sentimental value. Not in a cemetery, where nearly no-one cared to spend their time. Surrounded by tombstones, a person can only be reminded of death--the ending point of a person’s blip of time in the world.
Ghosts, to Tiffany Hwang, were about the living, not the dead.
Jessica stood at her side, hand clamped snugly within Tiffany’s fingers. She decided to wear her veil again. It shielded the overflow of tears.
Sunny’s gravestone was modestly sized and branded by a stoic typeface. A bouquet of multicolored flowers took a spot on the ground. With the dirt. Sunny hated dirt.
Writing a eulogy seemed foolish. For someone who’d been amongst many of her firsts, the woman deserved a speech straight from the heart.
“Hey Sunny, remember me?”
Tiffany rolled her eyes to the sky. Jessica pushed her to continue.
“It’s me, Tiffany. Fany--your Fany Hwangoo. God, that name was so annoying when you came up with it. Then, it grew on me…”
The stone stared back, unresponsive.
“At your funeral, I wanted to apologize for a lot of shit. For abandoning you because I had a chip on my shoulder the size of a boulder. It’s so silly to consider going to different colleges betrayal, but what could we do--we were young and dumb...It’s a shame we couldn’t have caught up before...before, this happened. Before you were killed.”
Jessica sniffed soundly.
“Even saying it out loud is absurd to me. You were my sole evidence for immortality. Faulty theory, I suppose...though, uh, I gotta tell you...I’m not that sorry. Being away from this small town and it’s traditions and you gave me a chance to grow, to experience the world beyond our safe backyards.
“II was married--shocker, right? To Yoon Bora. She was cool...well, not cool enough to stick around. You didn’t miss much there; I was an asshole to her.
“Where was I going with this? Right. I’ll miss you...your old you. I don’t think I know the person you’ve become. She sounds highly stress. Time numbed the pain for me and even though I sound like a huge bitch for saying so, I did get over you, Sunny. I outgrew my first love. I wish you’d done the same.”
Tiffany took a deep breath, glancing at the blonde before going on.
“You should have outgrown me, too, Lee Sunkyu. What you did to that asshole Sungmin and Jessica was every level of conceited and fucked-up. Were you really waiting for me to return, arms wide open and ready for love again? Wouldn’t have happened, I’m afraid. I’m a different person; you were in love with a memory.
"And--and I wish you’d been brave enough to really love Jessica. To give her your entire heart. That space you reserved for me should have been lavished on her from day one. There’s no way in hell I loved you as much as Jessica or even that man you called your husband. Even with your unconventional double life, you shouldn’t have brought me into it. That’s a bitch move, Sunny. Mega bitch move.”
Calling out “bitch” in an open space for mourning may not have been the most appropriate. An old woman holding an urn tutted at her as she shuffled by. Tiffany flipped her off behind her back.
“I’m disturbing the peace, so I’ll wrap this up. I’d argue that Jessica loved you too much. She accepted burden of an affair because you and her shared an empathic bond. I lost a best friend, a relic of the past--she lost more than that. She’s broken, Sunny. And I’m gonna help build her back up. ‘Cause I...um, have feelings for her."
A trembling arm circled her waist. She counted the speckles on the tombstone.
“I had no idea you were so beautiful. You’ve touched many lives with your warmth and good deeds. I guess that means the most at the end of the day. And if any of these fucking stories of the afterlife are true, I hope you’re okay and you forgive me for the distance.
“Love you, Sunny. Bye.”
Feeling a lightness she wished to transfer to her new love, Tiffany wrapped the woman in her most permeating embrace. It’d take some tears, but the undercurrent of “what ifs” would cease with time. She knew it would. Tired of death and prepared to start a chapter anew.
With Jessica’s hand clutched firmly in her own, they left together.
End.
[Author's Note]A/N: Hopefully everything was coherent, y’all. I’m drained/sleep deprived, but it shouldn’t read too loopy. xDD And happy ending? :OOO I’m a sucker for 'em. >.<