One-shot: To Speak
Title: To Speak
Pairing: Jessica x Tiffany
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff/Angst, AU
Word Count: 1,582 words
Summary: Not being able to speak to other people hurts. Falling in love when you can't speak hurts even more.
A/N: Read an interesting article about Selective Mutism, thought I research it, and voila~
You’ve had Selective Mutism since you were 7 years old, and you never thought much about it. You felt content with speaking with your family only. Why should you care about strangers when everything of your world is in the safety of your household?
When you were younger, you actually wanted to make friends. However, it was the same thing every time:
“Hi, what’s your name?”
You stare blankly at them.
“Are you ok?”
You simply shrug.
"Do you want to play?”
You back away, and shake your head.
You secretly heard people talk behind your back, and even heard teachers complain about the difficulties they face to educate you. You didn’t ask this to happen in the first place, but you’ve lost interest after you realize that even with 14 years of medication, and therapy, you still can’t say a word to people outside your house.
You knew that you had no future when you heard that your therapist quit (in fact you watched your parents desperately plea for her to stay as she packed her stuff and made her way for the door).
The world never liked you in the first place; it’s why you’re scared of it.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It’s been a couple of months since your therapist quit, and you still take your medication. Like any of it really helped.
You hear your mother call your name from downstairs, and you make your way down, lazily replying, “Coming~”
When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you immediately freeze at spot. Your mother and father are standing on each side of a stranger. “Jessica, this is Tiffany Hwang. She has been cured from what you have, and starting today, she’ll be helping you get better.”
Your chest tightens, and you feel your throat close up. But you know these aren’t the symptoms of Selective Mutism.
This girl is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen: glossy raven hair, a beautiful body, and the brightest eyes you have ever encountered.
“Nice to meet you, Jessica,” she said with a picture perfect smile.
You feel your face immediately heat up, and you nod quickly before retreating to the safety of your room. Clenching at your chest, you lightly bang your head against the door as you slide down.
You curse yourself for falling in love.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Your parents are astounded when they find you making noises during the first session with Tiffany. With your other therapist, it took about a good month to respond to any of her questions.
You notice that Tiffany is smiling, a smile so beautiful, and delicate that you secretly smile without Tiffany looking. On the surface, it may have been a breakthrough to find such progress during the first session, but you don’t want this.
On the inside, you want to say real sentences to Tiffany, like “You look pretty,” “Has anyone told you you’re so beautiful?” “I think I like you.”
Too bad it’s easier said than done.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
You knew that therapy meant that you would have to face your fears; it was the worst part. Tiffany beckons you forward with soft coos, trying to propel you away from the tree you were hiding behind. It was an exercise: go on a walk through the park, and introduce yourself to several people.
You don’t know if you can handle this torture. The feeling of judging eyes piercing through you, and stabbing you viciously persuaded your feet to stay planted. You knew that it would still be the same. That you would just say nothing to the random strangers, and then try to run away.
It doesn’t pain you so much that you’re 21 years old, and hiding behind a tree. You’d do anything to run away from these fears. The uncomfortable feeling is unbearable, and you’re ready to just quit when Tiffany approaches you. You slowly back away in fear, but she is quicker.
You shut your eyes, and tense your muscles as you wait for a possible punishment. However, you’re caught off guard when you feel a soft, small hand gently place itself on your head. You peel one eye open, slightly confused at the gesture.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here to protect you.”
You’re left breathless at those words as you feel your cheeks become hot, and you stare at the gentle face in front of you. You immediately turn your head away when Tiffany smiles and tries to make eye contact with you (on the inside you just want to stare into those eyes, but you can’t).
She moves away from you and steps onto the sidewalk, holding her hands behind her back, and using her index finger to persuade you to follow.
Hesitant at first, you stayed in place. Yet, you magically felt lonely without her presence, and run up to her, as she starts moving.
There were a lot of people in the park, and you felt antsy just being around so many unknown people. You stare at the girl in front of you. She is walking confidently, and yet relaxed (you find it hard to imagine she once had Selective Mutism)
You don’t know why, but you felt propelled to grip the hem of her shirt between your thumb and index finger. Tiffany doesn’t respond greatly, but slows her pace, so you’re almost pressed against her back.
You look at the ground, smiling. For the first time, you actually felt safe being outside.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It’s been 6 months since you started your therapy with Tiffany, and as amazing as it sounds, you’re showing more results than ever before. Too bad to wasn’t enough.
You want to just say more than whisper “Yy..ee..ss” and “Nn..o”. You want to say much more than that.
You secretly watch with intense eyes as Tiffany twists and twirls in front of a mirror, wearing an elegant black cocktail dress. She didn’t specify much on why she was wearing something so fancy except for “I’m going somewhere with a friend”.
She turns around, and looks at you (you bury your face in your pillow, so she doesn’t see your blush).
“Jessi, what do you think?”
Now was your moment to shine. It wasn’t a yes or no question, and you could actually say something meaningful to Tiffany for the first time.
You open your mouth to speak, but then stop. What will she think if I said she was pretty? She would stare at me weirdly wouldn’t she? Your skin crawls at the feeling of eyes on you, and you immediately close your mouth, and shut your eyes.
Tiffany’s eyes softened, and she walks up to you, and pets your head like you were a little kid again. “It’s ok Jessi, you don’t have to force yourself..”
Your eyes fly open as the soft feeling you’ve been enjoying goes away, and you watch with regret as Tiffany takes her purse and closes the door behind her.
You wait a good couple of seconds before you let your tears spill. At first it was just a couple of tears, but then it ended up becoming a river, and you wailing into your pillow.
You hate that you didn’t even get to say anything to her.
You hate the feeling of glassy bones, paper skin, and glued lips every time you do try to say something to her.
You hate this god forbidden disorder.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It’s now been a year and a half since starting therapy with Tiffany. You feel the same as you did several months ago, except slightly depressed.
You stare at the clouds in the sky with no interest as you enjoy Tiffany sitting next to you on the park bench who was reading a novel.
You think back to the encounter several months ago. It still tears and scratches at your heart, and the wounds just flourished more pain.
You clench your fists at the memories. Why did love have to be more painful than your anxieties?
“Tiffany…”
It was merely a whisper, but you’re shocked at hearing your own voice in public, and apparently Tiffany heard you, as she drops her book, and glares at you in an equal amount of shock.
It was too late to back down. Maybe now was the moment to really tell her how you felt. After all, you just said your first word in public a few seconds ago. If you could say some certain words in public, you could be cured once a for all from this disorder like Tiffany, and maybe, just maybe obtain what you really wanted this whole time.
You straighten your posture, mustering all the courage you had. “T..Tiffany.” you said more confidently.
She smiles a little, replying with a “Yes?”
You shakily breath in and out, repeating to yourself just say it, just say it…
“I-I-I… lo…ve… y..o..u…”
By now, your body is visibly shaking, and you shut your eyes. You don’t know what could happen. You feel a force pull you forward by the neck, your forehead connecting with Tiffany’s. You open your eyes to find yourself face-to-face with your love (you ignore your anxieties that tell you to look away). It’s the closest you have ever been to Tiffany, and you feel ecstatic at the feeling of her hand on your neck, and her forehead on your own.
“I’m sorry, Jessi, but I already have a boyfriend…”
The world never liked you in the first place; it’s why you should’ve never opened your heart to it.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
... Well I have nothing to say about this, lol. Penny for your thoughts? :3
Pairing: Jessica x Tiffany
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff/Angst, AU
Word Count: 1,582 words
Summary: Not being able to speak to other people hurts. Falling in love when you can't speak hurts even more.
A/N: Read an interesting article about Selective Mutism, thought I research it, and voila~
You’ve had Selective Mutism since you were 7 years old, and you never thought much about it. You felt content with speaking with your family only. Why should you care about strangers when everything of your world is in the safety of your household?
When you were younger, you actually wanted to make friends. However, it was the same thing every time:
“Hi, what’s your name?”
You stare blankly at them.
“Are you ok?”
You simply shrug.
"Do you want to play?”
You back away, and shake your head.
You secretly heard people talk behind your back, and even heard teachers complain about the difficulties they face to educate you. You didn’t ask this to happen in the first place, but you’ve lost interest after you realize that even with 14 years of medication, and therapy, you still can’t say a word to people outside your house.
You knew that you had no future when you heard that your therapist quit (in fact you watched your parents desperately plea for her to stay as she packed her stuff and made her way for the door).
The world never liked you in the first place; it’s why you’re scared of it.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It’s been a couple of months since your therapist quit, and you still take your medication. Like any of it really helped.
You hear your mother call your name from downstairs, and you make your way down, lazily replying, “Coming~”
When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you immediately freeze at spot. Your mother and father are standing on each side of a stranger. “Jessica, this is Tiffany Hwang. She has been cured from what you have, and starting today, she’ll be helping you get better.”
Your chest tightens, and you feel your throat close up. But you know these aren’t the symptoms of Selective Mutism.
This girl is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen: glossy raven hair, a beautiful body, and the brightest eyes you have ever encountered.
“Nice to meet you, Jessica,” she said with a picture perfect smile.
You feel your face immediately heat up, and you nod quickly before retreating to the safety of your room. Clenching at your chest, you lightly bang your head against the door as you slide down.
You curse yourself for falling in love.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Your parents are astounded when they find you making noises during the first session with Tiffany. With your other therapist, it took about a good month to respond to any of her questions.
You notice that Tiffany is smiling, a smile so beautiful, and delicate that you secretly smile without Tiffany looking. On the surface, it may have been a breakthrough to find such progress during the first session, but you don’t want this.
On the inside, you want to say real sentences to Tiffany, like “You look pretty,” “Has anyone told you you’re so beautiful?” “I think I like you.”
Too bad it’s easier said than done.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
You knew that therapy meant that you would have to face your fears; it was the worst part. Tiffany beckons you forward with soft coos, trying to propel you away from the tree you were hiding behind. It was an exercise: go on a walk through the park, and introduce yourself to several people.
You don’t know if you can handle this torture. The feeling of judging eyes piercing through you, and stabbing you viciously persuaded your feet to stay planted. You knew that it would still be the same. That you would just say nothing to the random strangers, and then try to run away.
It doesn’t pain you so much that you’re 21 years old, and hiding behind a tree. You’d do anything to run away from these fears. The uncomfortable feeling is unbearable, and you’re ready to just quit when Tiffany approaches you. You slowly back away in fear, but she is quicker.
You shut your eyes, and tense your muscles as you wait for a possible punishment. However, you’re caught off guard when you feel a soft, small hand gently place itself on your head. You peel one eye open, slightly confused at the gesture.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here to protect you.”
You’re left breathless at those words as you feel your cheeks become hot, and you stare at the gentle face in front of you. You immediately turn your head away when Tiffany smiles and tries to make eye contact with you (on the inside you just want to stare into those eyes, but you can’t).
She moves away from you and steps onto the sidewalk, holding her hands behind her back, and using her index finger to persuade you to follow.
Hesitant at first, you stayed in place. Yet, you magically felt lonely without her presence, and run up to her, as she starts moving.
There were a lot of people in the park, and you felt antsy just being around so many unknown people. You stare at the girl in front of you. She is walking confidently, and yet relaxed (you find it hard to imagine she once had Selective Mutism)
You don’t know why, but you felt propelled to grip the hem of her shirt between your thumb and index finger. Tiffany doesn’t respond greatly, but slows her pace, so you’re almost pressed against her back.
You look at the ground, smiling. For the first time, you actually felt safe being outside.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It’s been 6 months since you started your therapy with Tiffany, and as amazing as it sounds, you’re showing more results than ever before. Too bad to wasn’t enough.
You want to just say more than whisper “Yy..ee..ss” and “Nn..o”. You want to say much more than that.
You secretly watch with intense eyes as Tiffany twists and twirls in front of a mirror, wearing an elegant black cocktail dress. She didn’t specify much on why she was wearing something so fancy except for “I’m going somewhere with a friend”.
She turns around, and looks at you (you bury your face in your pillow, so she doesn’t see your blush).
“Jessi, what do you think?”
Now was your moment to shine. It wasn’t a yes or no question, and you could actually say something meaningful to Tiffany for the first time.
You open your mouth to speak, but then stop. What will she think if I said she was pretty? She would stare at me weirdly wouldn’t she? Your skin crawls at the feeling of eyes on you, and you immediately close your mouth, and shut your eyes.
Tiffany’s eyes softened, and she walks up to you, and pets your head like you were a little kid again. “It’s ok Jessi, you don’t have to force yourself..”
Your eyes fly open as the soft feeling you’ve been enjoying goes away, and you watch with regret as Tiffany takes her purse and closes the door behind her.
You wait a good couple of seconds before you let your tears spill. At first it was just a couple of tears, but then it ended up becoming a river, and you wailing into your pillow.
You hate that you didn’t even get to say anything to her.
You hate the feeling of glassy bones, paper skin, and glued lips every time you do try to say something to her.
You hate this god forbidden disorder.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It’s now been a year and a half since starting therapy with Tiffany. You feel the same as you did several months ago, except slightly depressed.
You stare at the clouds in the sky with no interest as you enjoy Tiffany sitting next to you on the park bench who was reading a novel.
You think back to the encounter several months ago. It still tears and scratches at your heart, and the wounds just flourished more pain.
You clench your fists at the memories. Why did love have to be more painful than your anxieties?
“Tiffany…”
It was merely a whisper, but you’re shocked at hearing your own voice in public, and apparently Tiffany heard you, as she drops her book, and glares at you in an equal amount of shock.
It was too late to back down. Maybe now was the moment to really tell her how you felt. After all, you just said your first word in public a few seconds ago. If you could say some certain words in public, you could be cured once a for all from this disorder like Tiffany, and maybe, just maybe obtain what you really wanted this whole time.
You straighten your posture, mustering all the courage you had. “T..Tiffany.” you said more confidently.
She smiles a little, replying with a “Yes?”
You shakily breath in and out, repeating to yourself just say it, just say it…
“I-I-I… lo…ve… y..o..u…”
By now, your body is visibly shaking, and you shut your eyes. You don’t know what could happen. You feel a force pull you forward by the neck, your forehead connecting with Tiffany’s. You open your eyes to find yourself face-to-face with your love (you ignore your anxieties that tell you to look away). It’s the closest you have ever been to Tiffany, and you feel ecstatic at the feeling of her hand on your neck, and her forehead on your own.
“I’m sorry, Jessi, but I already have a boyfriend…”
The world never liked you in the first place; it’s why you should’ve never opened your heart to it.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
... Well I have nothing to say about this, lol. Penny for your thoughts? :3