by: kijeok
sneak peek
She wished, first, that her arm wasn’t bent unnaturally under her body
in such an angry way, shoved between her breastplate and whatever, be it
mattress or couch or floor, was underneath—and wished, second, that she
were someone else entirely. The sun was settling uncomfortably on her
eyelashes, pulling back the lids with insistent, spiteful tugs. This was
going to be another morning like many other mornings and as the
realization settled under her skin, she wanted less and less to open her
eyes at all.
The arm around her waist tightened as she cleared her throat and rolled over, attempting to ease the tension in her own trapped, now traumatically numb, arm. The ceiling looked like a dozen ceilings she had seen before, the pockmarks and plaster not quite identical, obviously, but still resolutely contributing to the intimate familiarity she couldn’t shake.
A blithe thought came then, of how when people were cornered, they would lash out. Previously she had wondered if they knew they were lashing out while in the process of it, but now she wondered if they could even know they were cornered. She had lived a good twenty-six years; it felt over-long because it hadn’t been broken up into chapters. There was no beginning and end to events, and so there was no way to know if one was living it correctly, in any respect. Still, dimly, she’d had the feeling she had been living it incorrectly for some time now.
With a sigh, Kim Taeyeon gently removed the arm from around her waist and sat up, climbing unsteadily out of bed.
Like most mornings, it was not a clean break. She was hunting for her clothes when the girl on the bed stirred and mumbled something at her, her eyes opening in bleary indecency. Taeyeon cleared her throat and zipped up her jeans. It was a little after lunchtime. “Hmm?”
“Where you going?”
She was a pretty girl, probably about nineteen years old. Of the brief images she could recall from the previous night, Taeyeon remembered that the skin at the base of her neck was impossibly smooth, that her hands were soft as though they had never worked. Maybe she was a student. Taeyeon blew some of the hair out of her eyes and pulled her shirt on.
“I have to go. I have an appointment.” Her cellphone wasn’t in her pocket like usual so she had to hunt for it.
The arm around her waist tightened as she cleared her throat and rolled over, attempting to ease the tension in her own trapped, now traumatically numb, arm. The ceiling looked like a dozen ceilings she had seen before, the pockmarks and plaster not quite identical, obviously, but still resolutely contributing to the intimate familiarity she couldn’t shake.
A blithe thought came then, of how when people were cornered, they would lash out. Previously she had wondered if they knew they were lashing out while in the process of it, but now she wondered if they could even know they were cornered. She had lived a good twenty-six years; it felt over-long because it hadn’t been broken up into chapters. There was no beginning and end to events, and so there was no way to know if one was living it correctly, in any respect. Still, dimly, she’d had the feeling she had been living it incorrectly for some time now.
With a sigh, Kim Taeyeon gently removed the arm from around her waist and sat up, climbing unsteadily out of bed.
Like most mornings, it was not a clean break. She was hunting for her clothes when the girl on the bed stirred and mumbled something at her, her eyes opening in bleary indecency. Taeyeon cleared her throat and zipped up her jeans. It was a little after lunchtime. “Hmm?”
“Where you going?”
She was a pretty girl, probably about nineteen years old. Of the brief images she could recall from the previous night, Taeyeon remembered that the skin at the base of her neck was impossibly smooth, that her hands were soft as though they had never worked. Maybe she was a student. Taeyeon blew some of the hair out of her eyes and pulled her shirt on.
“I have to go. I have an appointment.” Her cellphone wasn’t in her pocket like usual so she had to hunt for it.
MY POV:
My favorite fan fic ever! It feels like Tiffany was the one who wrote this lol. The story is base from semi-reality, and it feels like really really REAL!!(Ugh~ this TaeNy feels)
Tiffany giving Taeyeon a push and pull mixed signals lalalala~♪, and it confuses Taeyeon a lot! The story is angst─ I told you I'm a masochist, I like reading angst a lot, rather than reading fluff. Ah! I almost forgot, this is smut. Yes~ SMUT. But I don't think on the hardcore smut like the writer details every bed scenes. lol But seriously, A VERY VERY GOOD FAN FIC EVER! I MEAN IT.
1 comments:
Thank you blogger-nim
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