삼
no splashing, no diving
snsd, hyoyeon/tiffany
rating: pg
word count: ~940
so this is a continuation of a hyofany ficbit, and there was actually going to be more so that there'd be an actual, like, plot, but...yeah idk, i guess i like to lie to myself.
"I don't think he understands. Maybe I should write an e-mail?"
She's picking at her lip again, a bad habit, and flicking the dead skin particles off her fingers, a disgusting habit. Blood blooms from the corner of Tiffany's mouth. Hyoyeon reaches a fingertip in and gently swipes at the spot.
"You're bleeding now. Stop that." Hyoyeon remembers the coppery tang that sometimes clouded the back of her throat when she danced for too long and imagines Tiffany's blood to be sweeter and as thick as her mother's spicy stew. She stamps her finger on the sink counter instead. Her fingerprint with someone else's DNA. Tiffany unrolls some toilet paper and presses it to her mouth.
"Would that be too impersonal?" A sniff. "This is so weird. Has our toilet paper always been scented?"
Hyoyeon takes the used wad and scores a three-pointer in the trash. "Is your bladder going haywire or something? People normally don't take this long to pee."
"I feel comfortable here." Tiffany's eyes curve into familiar crescents and Hyoyeon feels the familiar flicker in her stomach. She takes Tiffany's face into her hands and thumbs the puffy undereye skin. Tiffany's eyelashes pitter-patter against her fingers and Hyoyeon wonders if they would be just as soft against her own lashes, against her lips.
"You sleep too much. Look at these eyebags. You look like you've had aegyo-sal surgery," Hyoyeon teases, squeezing her face with every sentence. Tiffany swats her hands away with a laugh. She gets up and Hyoyeon busies herself with a bottle of face wash, really doesn't follow the rising path of Tiffany's blue panties out of the corner of her eye. Tiffany turns around to flush the toilet, making sure to hold the handle down for an extra fifteen seconds. Calling their landlord has been long overdue.
"What do you think though? I don't want to be too harsh," Tiffany says, watching the swirl of water.
"You barely know the guy and he thinks you're both about to be engaged or something. Harsh wouldn't even help." The face wash bottle is fit to burst under Hyoyeon's fingers, and so is Hyoyeon's patience. Tiffany's compassion is too much sometimes, but Hyoyeon has to admit that she would worry just the same. Always be a little kinder than necessary. Her mother valued generosity above all else.
Tiffany grabs her toothbrush and carefully applies a squiggle of toothpaste to it, the same shape forming in her brow. Hyoyeon smooths it out with her pinky and turns off the tap. Tiffany always left the sink water running.
"Look, I'm sure the guy will get it. Just write the e-mail," Hyoyeon reassures her with a smile. Tiffany would do better with the written word anyway. Her manner of impulsive speaking didn't sit well with everyone.
"Yeah, I guess." Tiffany's eyes suddenly twinkle. "Hyoyeon-ah, you should give him a try!" Excitement and earnest are beginning to inch up her face, as they often do whenever the topic of Hyoyeon and new possible acquaintances comes about.
"No, I don't think so." Hyoyeon isn't shy, really. She just prefers...familiarity. Yes, that's a good word.
"Why not?" Tiffany frowns. "Didn't you say he wasn't that bad-looking?"
"He's just not my type."
"But almost every boy is your type." A thoughtful pause. "Or at least used to be. Now that I think about it, you haven't spoken of a guy in months, I think." Tiffany's eyes are brimming with curiosity.
Hyoyeon thinks of the final sinking scene in Titanic and how Jack Dawson was sucked away by the huge vortex from the ship. The way her stomach feels is probably similar.
"Yeah, I'm just not interested lately," Hyoyeon casually shrugs. She prays that Tiffany doesn't notice the slight tremor in her shoulders.
"I wonder what happened," Tiffany muses, going back to brush her teeth. Hyoyeon thinks of Tiffany's steadfast determination, her clumsy dancing at the club, the huskiness of her voice as she helplessly laughs at Hyoyeon's jokes, how she always sleepily murmurs that she'll get up soon whenever Hyoyeon shakes her in the morning but never actually does.
Hyoyeon wipes the toothpaste residue off the mirror and laughs uncomfortably. The toilet water is still circling.
--------------------------------------
Later in bed while listening to Tiffany's steady breathing, Hyoyeon thinks of childhood summers spent in Wolmi Island. She remembers her parents half-carrying her and her brother, sleepy and yawning, into the car; her brother loudly whining about the seemingly endless drive between their home in Incheon and the island; H.O.T.'s newest single on the radio and her mother singing along to every word. She remembers trying out H.O.T.'s dance on the beach, calves heavy and hot from the sand, and stopping to greet the ahjusshi who made cotton candy with dry fingers from the back of his mo-ped. He always wound it extra large for her, as big as her head, and would say that girls with pretty smiles made the sugar happier, more willing to be spun. Hyoyeon always felt thankful towards the sugar. She would hop off to a spot where the sand was paved as smooth as frosting and rest the back of her head against her sandals. She would pull apart the fragile cotton candy strands and lay them against her mouth, the strings feather-soft and just as weightless, warm from the sun and slightly salty from the breeze.
This, Hyoyeon's sure, this is what Tiffany's eyelashes would feel like.
aegyo-sal surgery is an actual surgical procedure in korea that allows individuals to have under-eye puffiness that supposedly makes their eyes look cuter and bigger
snsd, hyoyeon/tiffany
rating: pg
word count: ~940
so this is a continuation of a hyofany ficbit, and there was actually going to be more so that there'd be an actual, like, plot, but...yeah idk, i guess i like to lie to myself.
"I don't think he understands. Maybe I should write an e-mail?"
She's picking at her lip again, a bad habit, and flicking the dead skin particles off her fingers, a disgusting habit. Blood blooms from the corner of Tiffany's mouth. Hyoyeon reaches a fingertip in and gently swipes at the spot.
"You're bleeding now. Stop that." Hyoyeon remembers the coppery tang that sometimes clouded the back of her throat when she danced for too long and imagines Tiffany's blood to be sweeter and as thick as her mother's spicy stew. She stamps her finger on the sink counter instead. Her fingerprint with someone else's DNA. Tiffany unrolls some toilet paper and presses it to her mouth.
"Would that be too impersonal?" A sniff. "This is so weird. Has our toilet paper always been scented?"
Hyoyeon takes the used wad and scores a three-pointer in the trash. "Is your bladder going haywire or something? People normally don't take this long to pee."
"I feel comfortable here." Tiffany's eyes curve into familiar crescents and Hyoyeon feels the familiar flicker in her stomach. She takes Tiffany's face into her hands and thumbs the puffy undereye skin. Tiffany's eyelashes pitter-patter against her fingers and Hyoyeon wonders if they would be just as soft against her own lashes, against her lips.
"You sleep too much. Look at these eyebags. You look like you've had aegyo-sal surgery," Hyoyeon teases, squeezing her face with every sentence. Tiffany swats her hands away with a laugh. She gets up and Hyoyeon busies herself with a bottle of face wash, really doesn't follow the rising path of Tiffany's blue panties out of the corner of her eye. Tiffany turns around to flush the toilet, making sure to hold the handle down for an extra fifteen seconds. Calling their landlord has been long overdue.
"What do you think though? I don't want to be too harsh," Tiffany says, watching the swirl of water.
"You barely know the guy and he thinks you're both about to be engaged or something. Harsh wouldn't even help." The face wash bottle is fit to burst under Hyoyeon's fingers, and so is Hyoyeon's patience. Tiffany's compassion is too much sometimes, but Hyoyeon has to admit that she would worry just the same. Always be a little kinder than necessary. Her mother valued generosity above all else.
Tiffany grabs her toothbrush and carefully applies a squiggle of toothpaste to it, the same shape forming in her brow. Hyoyeon smooths it out with her pinky and turns off the tap. Tiffany always left the sink water running.
"Look, I'm sure the guy will get it. Just write the e-mail," Hyoyeon reassures her with a smile. Tiffany would do better with the written word anyway. Her manner of impulsive speaking didn't sit well with everyone.
"Yeah, I guess." Tiffany's eyes suddenly twinkle. "Hyoyeon-ah, you should give him a try!" Excitement and earnest are beginning to inch up her face, as they often do whenever the topic of Hyoyeon and new possible acquaintances comes about.
"No, I don't think so." Hyoyeon isn't shy, really. She just prefers...familiarity. Yes, that's a good word.
"Why not?" Tiffany frowns. "Didn't you say he wasn't that bad-looking?"
"He's just not my type."
"But almost every boy is your type." A thoughtful pause. "Or at least used to be. Now that I think about it, you haven't spoken of a guy in months, I think." Tiffany's eyes are brimming with curiosity.
Hyoyeon thinks of the final sinking scene in Titanic and how Jack Dawson was sucked away by the huge vortex from the ship. The way her stomach feels is probably similar.
"Yeah, I'm just not interested lately," Hyoyeon casually shrugs. She prays that Tiffany doesn't notice the slight tremor in her shoulders.
"I wonder what happened," Tiffany muses, going back to brush her teeth. Hyoyeon thinks of Tiffany's steadfast determination, her clumsy dancing at the club, the huskiness of her voice as she helplessly laughs at Hyoyeon's jokes, how she always sleepily murmurs that she'll get up soon whenever Hyoyeon shakes her in the morning but never actually does.
Hyoyeon wipes the toothpaste residue off the mirror and laughs uncomfortably. The toilet water is still circling.
--------------------------------------
Later in bed while listening to Tiffany's steady breathing, Hyoyeon thinks of childhood summers spent in Wolmi Island. She remembers her parents half-carrying her and her brother, sleepy and yawning, into the car; her brother loudly whining about the seemingly endless drive between their home in Incheon and the island; H.O.T.'s newest single on the radio and her mother singing along to every word. She remembers trying out H.O.T.'s dance on the beach, calves heavy and hot from the sand, and stopping to greet the ahjusshi who made cotton candy with dry fingers from the back of his mo-ped. He always wound it extra large for her, as big as her head, and would say that girls with pretty smiles made the sugar happier, more willing to be spun. Hyoyeon always felt thankful towards the sugar. She would hop off to a spot where the sand was paved as smooth as frosting and rest the back of her head against her sandals. She would pull apart the fragile cotton candy strands and lay them against her mouth, the strings feather-soft and just as weightless, warm from the sun and slightly salty from the breeze.
This, Hyoyeon's sure, this is what Tiffany's eyelashes would feel like.
aegyo-sal surgery is an actual surgical procedure in korea that allows individuals to have under-eye puffiness that supposedly makes their eyes look cuter and bigger