No Evergreen
A/N Based very much off of Bon Iver's For Emma, which I've been looping for two weeks now and yeah, a story inevitably popped into my head and I wrote it just then.
/no willpower whatsoever.
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The leaves dropped from the branches scattering a mosaic of crimson and brown along the footpath they tread on. Winter drew close, Tiffany shivered and her teeth clacked, tucking her hands in her pocket and sniffled against the icy breeze that brushed passed.
“Are you cold?” Taeyeon asked, as she walked beside her, wrapping her palm over the Tiffany’s fist under her jacket. “You are,” she remarked guiltily.
Tiffany nodded and gently pulled away when they turned the corner. The next street was as quiet as the last. She lifted her eyes up to the sky and saw the dull grey clouds slowly loft towards them, “It might rain,” commented Tiffany.
They walked in silence for a moment longer, Tiffany purposely unassuming of the internal monologue in Taeyeon’s head. “Where are we going?” she finally asked Taeyeon.
Taeyeon turned her head slowly, “I- I- don’t know,” she responded conflicted with her brows furrowed.
“I’d like to go home.” Tiffany was resolute; it wasn’t a request, nor was it an unkind demand. “Take me home.”
Taeyeon sighed; they had stopped walking with Tiffany standing behind her. She turned around and faced her. “Can’t we just walk a while longer?”
Tiffany shook her head, and stood her ground, her stance unmoved. “I have a life to get back to; people to be with.”
In response, Taeyeon frowned and blurted, “But I loved you first.” She said it in her hurt stricken voice as if she had the right of claim, as if her ten year old self had never left.
“I know,” Tiffany answered, the corner of her lips tugged into a somber, wistful smile, Taeyeon did always love her more. She took the zipper on Taeyeon’s jacket and pulled it higher, “It doesn’t mean that you’ll love me last.”
“How can you be so sure?” She caught Tiffany’s hand and wrapped it tight in her own.
“I’m not,” Tiffany replied, peeling Taeyeon’s fingers away from her hand and placed it by her side. She flit her gaze back to Taeyeon, “I never said I was.”
“Then,” Taeyeon cast her eyes down, “What do I do now?”
Tiffany wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Will you take me home?”
Taeyeon clenched her palms into balled fists and released a second later, with a sudden resolve settling somewhere inside her small frame. She parted her mouth and closed it again, wondering what should be said, was better left unsaid, for the sake of self-preservation.
Within a few moments, Taeyeon understood that Tiffany would always be the one to say one thing and want her to do another.
“No,” Taeyeon replied with finality, her throat tightening in reaction to her feigned apathy, “The path back is the same way as we came.”
Disconcerted, Tiffany creased a brow, “Oh.”
Taeyeon watched the realization wash over Tiffany, the way she bit her soft lips (the kind that Taeyeon could kiss for days on end if she could) and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Where are you going?” Tiffany tilted her head.
Taeyeon looked up, watched the first droplets of rain fall from the sky, “I don’t know,” she repeated and shook her head.
She peeled her eyes away from the clouds and back to Tiffany, committing the moment to memory. Remembering that on the day, Tiffany had been in her home attire, wearing a dark blue sweater and washed out jeans. Her face was bare; it was too early in the morning to look lovely but of course, Taeyeon thought she was beautiful anyway with or without.
If Taeyeon had been brave sooner, if it weren’t for the poor timing, if Tiffany had known surely of what she wanted, if it had been another lifetime, Tiffany would have called after Taeyeon as she turned and went on her way. They could have been a lot of other things (people who dragged their fingers along the chained fence, danced them over the brick partitions, holding another’s palm in their own) and not the nothing they had established at that very moment.
If it were for any other day, perhaps this would have been mistaken for lovers.
These possibilities plagued Taeyeon for she never did regret well. Only, even a fool would have known that these moments in life worked both ways and some things (people) weren’t worth keeping.
So, Taeyeon chose resolutely to become all but a vague memory in someone’s life, never once looking back when the thunder sounded and as the rain soaked through her being and slid off the tips of her hair, splashing onto the concrete ground below. She left a street and her heart empty of the ‘what ifs’ and ‘could have beens’ and though it was maybe overly idealistic to think possible, an attempt at trying was enough for then.
/no willpower whatsoever.
-----------------
The leaves dropped from the branches scattering a mosaic of crimson and brown along the footpath they tread on. Winter drew close, Tiffany shivered and her teeth clacked, tucking her hands in her pocket and sniffled against the icy breeze that brushed passed.
“Are you cold?” Taeyeon asked, as she walked beside her, wrapping her palm over the Tiffany’s fist under her jacket. “You are,” she remarked guiltily.
Tiffany nodded and gently pulled away when they turned the corner. The next street was as quiet as the last. She lifted her eyes up to the sky and saw the dull grey clouds slowly loft towards them, “It might rain,” commented Tiffany.
They walked in silence for a moment longer, Tiffany purposely unassuming of the internal monologue in Taeyeon’s head. “Where are we going?” she finally asked Taeyeon.
Taeyeon turned her head slowly, “I- I- don’t know,” she responded conflicted with her brows furrowed.
“I’d like to go home.” Tiffany was resolute; it wasn’t a request, nor was it an unkind demand. “Take me home.”
Taeyeon sighed; they had stopped walking with Tiffany standing behind her. She turned around and faced her. “Can’t we just walk a while longer?”
Tiffany shook her head, and stood her ground, her stance unmoved. “I have a life to get back to; people to be with.”
In response, Taeyeon frowned and blurted, “But I loved you first.” She said it in her hurt stricken voice as if she had the right of claim, as if her ten year old self had never left.
“I know,” Tiffany answered, the corner of her lips tugged into a somber, wistful smile, Taeyeon did always love her more. She took the zipper on Taeyeon’s jacket and pulled it higher, “It doesn’t mean that you’ll love me last.”
“How can you be so sure?” She caught Tiffany’s hand and wrapped it tight in her own.
“I’m not,” Tiffany replied, peeling Taeyeon’s fingers away from her hand and placed it by her side. She flit her gaze back to Taeyeon, “I never said I was.”
“Then,” Taeyeon cast her eyes down, “What do I do now?”
Tiffany wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Will you take me home?”
Taeyeon clenched her palms into balled fists and released a second later, with a sudden resolve settling somewhere inside her small frame. She parted her mouth and closed it again, wondering what should be said, was better left unsaid, for the sake of self-preservation.
Within a few moments, Taeyeon understood that Tiffany would always be the one to say one thing and want her to do another.
“No,” Taeyeon replied with finality, her throat tightening in reaction to her feigned apathy, “The path back is the same way as we came.”
Disconcerted, Tiffany creased a brow, “Oh.”
Taeyeon watched the realization wash over Tiffany, the way she bit her soft lips (the kind that Taeyeon could kiss for days on end if she could) and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Where are you going?” Tiffany tilted her head.
Taeyeon looked up, watched the first droplets of rain fall from the sky, “I don’t know,” she repeated and shook her head.
She peeled her eyes away from the clouds and back to Tiffany, committing the moment to memory. Remembering that on the day, Tiffany had been in her home attire, wearing a dark blue sweater and washed out jeans. Her face was bare; it was too early in the morning to look lovely but of course, Taeyeon thought she was beautiful anyway with or without.
If Taeyeon had been brave sooner, if it weren’t for the poor timing, if Tiffany had known surely of what she wanted, if it had been another lifetime, Tiffany would have called after Taeyeon as she turned and went on her way. They could have been a lot of other things (people who dragged their fingers along the chained fence, danced them over the brick partitions, holding another’s palm in their own) and not the nothing they had established at that very moment.
If it were for any other day, perhaps this would have been mistaken for lovers.
These possibilities plagued Taeyeon for she never did regret well. Only, even a fool would have known that these moments in life worked both ways and some things (people) weren’t worth keeping.
So, Taeyeon chose resolutely to become all but a vague memory in someone’s life, never once looking back when the thunder sounded and as the rain soaked through her being and slid off the tips of her hair, splashing onto the concrete ground below. She left a street and her heart empty of the ‘what ifs’ and ‘could have beens’ and though it was maybe overly idealistic to think possible, an attempt at trying was enough for then.