Tiffany was a busy woman. She started the moment she woke up and her head kept buzzing until it hit the pillow in the earliest hours of morning and she closed her eyes. She loved it, she lived for it. Or rather, she almost died for it, because one thing about the constant conscious buzz was that it wore her body down. She needed rest even though her mind kept going and pushing and leaping.
Taeyeon knew a lot about Tiffany, but the one thing she had yet to learn was the ever present fire that lit Tiffany’s bones and kept her moving. She knew it was there, she saw it often, but she couldn’t figure out how to handle it. And she definitely wanted to handle it. She wanted to take the phone from Tiffany’s hand when it was eleven o’clock at night and not a good time to reply to work emails. She wanted to pick Tiffany up from work at five or maybe six, even the odd seven, and see absolute relaxation and relief rather than the expectant tension of ongoing work.
But as much as she wanted to take care of Tiffany and take care of their relationship, it wasn’t something she could do alone, do to Tiffany. They argued about it, they ignored each other when it sprung up between them, and Taeyeon wasn’t even sure Tiffany didn’t want that fire more than anything Taeyeon could offer her.
Taeyeon was determined. She feared her own inability and inadequacy, and it made her so scared she wanted to just do it and grab Tiffany.
Slowly Tiffany noticed. In the stupor of her busying buzzing fire, Taeyeon leaked in through the edges and snuck past the flames a few times. They negotiated, they invested, they tried, they worked – things Tiffany could understand, did well once she opened herself to it. The fire was different but it was there, a new shade, a new burn, and it had Taeyeon all through it.
Tiffany could be busy with Taeyeon, too.