Greener Grass [02]

[checkinyourbra]

Title: Greener Grass [Part Two]

Pairing(s): YoonSic

Rating/Genre: PG-13 + Language; AU Healing Romance

Warning(s): Hmm. I don’t think so?

Disclaimer: I don't own Soshi. I don't own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.

Author's Notes: The magical thing about multishots is the sheer amount of content I can pack into each chapter. So, kick back with a beverage and read away!! Btw, any of y’all into Star Wars? THAT JAR JAR BINKS THEORY, THOUGH. I’m a believer.

Part Two:

--


It'd been eight minutes since Yoona met her partner.

And her kids--two daughters.

Or so she thought.

“Oh-oh whoa,” Yoona sputtered once Joonie wiggled out her boys' underwear.

Not her. His.

“You're a boy?”

“I'm a big boy!” Joonie's face, ruddy from a tantrum, crinkled to tears. He really preferred Sooyeon to regulate bath duty.

“You don't want Yoomie?” she asked, slightly bemused. Slightly hurt.

“Mummy uses bubbly.”

From the floor, Yoona perused their bathside assortment. “I can use bubbles, too.”

“Mummy sings 'Joon Buggy’s Bath Song'.”

“Hm.” Yoona thought fast, grinning. “I can rap.”

“Mummy lets me use Haeun's shampoo. It smells like strawberry shor'cake. I don' like the blue stuff you buy me.”

Yoona swiped a blue bottle, thumbed its orange cap, and gave it a whiff. “You got me there, kid; this isn't cake. Superman's on the front, though.”

“I don' wan' Superman! I wan' Haeun's shampoo!”

Panicking, she shushed the boy, pressing a finger to his poochy lips. He backed away as if she were radioactive.

“I don't care which one you choose,” she assured him, digging into the shower curtain's pocket for a large, pastel pink bottle. “Is this what you want?”

Her son continued to frown, arched eyebrows sharper than knives.

“Joonie, are you keen on smelling like a bakery?”

His back flattened to the wall. Hands busied in his lap, absently fiddling with little male bits. Yoona forced herself to ignore it.

“Here.” She glubbed a generous amount of bubble bath beneath the running stream. “Bubble Island. In the Bubble Sea.” Emptying a clear bag of action figures into shallow water, Yoona narrated, “Ah, your comrades. They're uh, drowning. Oh no!”

That tickled Joonie's interest. He inched forward.

“I thought you were a hero, Joonie. They're calling for you!”

He bobbed huge eyes up at her. Lips downturned. Eyebrows scrunched. The makings of a long neck tensing. “Nuh uh!”

Damn, he was the carbon copy of a defiant young Yoona. She gave her own scowl to mock him. “Save them!”

And, conceding defeat, Joonie lifted his skinny arms. They were tan from outdoor activities--stark contrast to his ghostly belly. Yoona held in her chuckle as she relayed him to Bubble Island.

He sat for a grand total of three seconds until he whimpered, “Too hot.”

She wound at the taps, waiting for a reaction.

When he whined, “Too cold.”

Joonie's list of dislikes didn't stop there. He hated soap in his ears. She scrubbed his hair too hard. Aquaman's peeling face paint made him cry. Not enough 'bubbly'.

A far cry from the quiet cutie in the mall. Yoona dismissed the thought that one-on-one time with her specifically brought on his angst.

He enjoyed her pathetic rap, though. Throwing up fake gang signs, she rhymed 'Joonie' to nonsense: Moonie, Loony, Cartoony, Communey, Macarooni.

It gained his first and only smile in the bathroom.

Then, Yoona tussled him into pajamas as he flip-flopped like a torture victim. Smile obliterated.

...

Yoona fanned a wet spot on the bottom of her shirt while she escorted her captive to the kitchen. The scent of savory spices hit her face and she sighed, downright ravenous.

“Bath time go well?” Sooyeon asked over the stove, stirring a pot of magic.

“He splashed me,” Yoona caught herself muttering. When Sooyeon spun to face them, she almost repealed the comment.

That is, until Sooyeon plopped Joonie into a booster seat and bent to his level. “Im Minjoon, how do I feel about misbehavior?”

Im Minjoon. Unbelievable. Yoona grazed her flat belly, marveling the lack of baby fluff.

The boy, hair combed into Yoona's best go at a ponytail, lost the edge in his brows. His lips worked, but no words came out.

“Minjoon,” Sooyeon repeated.

“It makes Mummy dis-disappoin'ed.”

“Is disappointing me fun? Is it cool?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, Mummy. It's not cool.”

Well, damn. Yoona rubbed her arms of the Arctic chill. “Need any help?”

Sooyeon whipped long hair to the side, as skeptical as Joonie. “You're available?”

“Why not?” Smirk cocked playfully, Yoona made a show to check the empty space around her. “I'm here.”

“In that case,” She angled back to the pot. “Banchan's in the fridge. You can put them out on plates for us.”

An easy request. “Righty-o.”

The sizable refrigerator revealed several labeled containers on a middle shelf. Each top color-coded for--Yoona shook a couple, deciding what made her stomach growl--no discernible purpose. All of them looked edible, though. “How many should I grab, Sooyeon?”

She heard the woman giggle. “Three will be fine.”

The giggle was cute. Even if it made her feel like a simpleton.

Yoona headcounted too many cabinets. Did enough dishware exist for all these? As relaxed as possible, she hunted through four to no results.

“There,” Sooyeon flicked a wrist to the compartment at her immediate left. “The square plates.”

“I knew that.”

“Sure you did.”

Reddening at every step closer to her--girlfriend? wife?--Yoona put on her best casual roleplay. “Mmm, curry. My weakness.”

“Since when?” Sooyeon bit out, smiting the harmless comment.

If Yoona hadn't observed the businesswoman melting at the sight of their children, she'd tag Sooyeon as a bitch. And she wouldn't date a bitch in any universe. “Since I said so?”

“Charming.”

Yoona scoffed. Charming? She invented the word.

If she was going to live anew, she'd live for real this time.

“Wha-?! Wow, look at Yoomie!” Haeun exclaimed from the edge of her chair as plate after plate flew into the air. Sooyeon turned at the outburst, only to gasp at the brunette juggling three plates and palming the counter for another.

Yoona kept her friends in the short-term. Flings with a pretty smile or shapely hips served her intimacy quota in early uni years. Grade school buddies faded into ex-classmates. Because she moved on too quickly, giving no-one the chance to hurt her like her mother, her father, her extended family.

Then, she cleaved to Chanhwi's bubble of safety. He agreed; those people weren't sound investments. Thus, his friends became Yoona's friends. They were seasoned people of sundry trades and professions--well-traveled, learned, boasting thousands of experiences beneath their belts.

And they welcomed Yoona. Taught her how to change a tire. How to lure butterflies. How to juggle up to ten objects.

Four plates was a breeze.

“Y-Yoona, watch--Ahh!” Sooyeon shrieked when Yoona pretended to throw a dish her way.

That earned a gut-busting guffaw from Joonie. “Yoomie scared you!”

“Mummy screamed,” Haeun agreed, clapping, “like a little girl!”

Absolutely satisfied by the happier climate, Yoona lightly clinked each plate to the table in a flourish. Time to spoon out some food. But not before blowing an air kiss to her shocked partner.

...

This motherhood trial was tiring.

At 10:30pm, Yoona sunk into a sumptuous bed, body comprised of limp noodles.

Dinner, cleaning. Dessert, more cleaning. The dinosaur book read twice. Another Minjoon episode. A shower while Sooyeon tucked Haeun and their temperamental son into bed.

Also, the whole 'once being dead' thing.

She'd been shy about approaching the master bedroom. Sex happened there, right?

Luckily, Yoona was alone to scope out the digs. Tidy yet warm. Calm color scheme. King-sized bed. A walk-in closet made for a goddess or two.

Flipping through this version of Im Yoona's wardrobe left a sense of comfort. Besides loftier labels and a more expansive quantity, her style remained identical, for the most part. Yoona was still Yoona.

Once the door opened, she perched onto the bed. Fingers interlocked, bare legs criss-crossed.

“Joonie said he got a sore throat at preschool today,” Sooyeon muttered into a full-length mirror. “I bet his teacher gave him fruit juice.”

Yoona shrugged. “And those correlate how?”

“Bananas, Yoong. Flavoring easily read on a box. The system is negligent.”

“Oh, right.” She scribed a mental note: No bananas for her girly son.

God. She had a son.

A daughter, too. A brilliant one. The five-year-old pronounced the dino names better than someone twice her age. As Haeun sat in Yoona's lap, explaining why raptors were orange, Yoona took inventory of the little diva's features. The high forehead gave it away--a dominant trait of Sooyeon. So was her soft bone structure and know-it-all mentality.

Sooyeon leaned onto a dresser's edge, eyes trained on the other woman. “You've been acting...out of character.”

“Am I?” Yoona covered nerves with a smirk.

“Daddy named me Sooyeon; you know I prefer Jessica. And you haven't called me Sica at all. Why so formal?”

So, Sica was Soo-Jessica's nickname. “I dunno. You like it?”

“Not particularly.”

“I'll stop.”

“You followed me around like a duckling tonight.”

Because Yoona had no idea where anything was located. Plus, Jessica drew her in like the tides. “You're sexy.”

“Yoong.” Jessica tipped her head, knuckles nudged into her lips.

Sica reminded her of Chanhwi's loveliest colleagues. Unobtainable women of great esteem. Yoona remembered licking them with her gaze, echoing their curves into her palm with a middle finger. Wishing she wasn't romantically chained to Chanhwi, a man in his forties.

This timeline bestowed her a woman. Not just any ol' broad. The fabled breed from movies and fiction novels. Accomplished women--no hair out of place, no blemish on their skin. Yoona wanted to immortalize Jessica's every detail--down to her aspirations, unspoken fears, favorite milkshake flavor, the maker of her lip stain, what part of heaven she'd fallen from.

Her angel. Her angel came back.

“Sica, is that a blush I see?”

“No,” Jessica gritted. More adorable than intimidating. “You're usually...”

“Mm?”

She loosened a rolled sleeve, voice whisper-soft, “You're usually holed up in your study until food's ready.”

“I have a study?” Yoona blurted.

Jessica devoted a quizzical moment to stare, then undid her other sleeve. “Third intern this month sent in their resignation. I swear I've told Yonghwa in HR a thousand times--we pay them too little and demand too much.”

Yoona watched the fabric slide along her arm. She swallowed. “College intern?”

“Grad.”

“Raise the stipend. They can't live off scraps.”

“Sadly, Yonghwa yields to Junsu who panders to Kim Hyoyeon, our coordinator,” she recited, liberating the blouse from her tight skirt. “Hyoyeon's as stingy as the day is long.”

Six buttons hooked free at an agonizing pace. That sliver of skin, hint of an intricate bra. The sweetest collarbone peeked from behind white material, destined for Yoona's lips.

She'd struck gold. Fate hooked her up.

Conflicted, Yoona willed her eyes to rest on Jessica's face. No matter how much her inner voyeur cheered with foam fingers and bullhorns.

“Yoong, you're practically drooling.”

Whoops. The accused dramatized a chin wipe, broad smile withstanding. “You're a vision to behold. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Jessica murmured. In a slow brush of fingers, the shirt parted from her light shoulders. Hung languidly at her arms. She studied Yoona's curved eyes soak her in. Testing her, if Yoona didn't know better. “God, babe.”

“That's my line.”

Sadness touched her smile. “You haven't looked at me like that since Joonie was born.”

Yoona's voice went raspy. “Like what?”

“Like you worship me.”

Without second-thoughts, she replied, “I do.”

Three consecutive buzzes from Yoona's phone interrupted, puncturing the hot atmosphere. As she reached the annoying device, entering her old code for a millionth lock screen rejection, Jessica traipsed to the closet. Any salvageable sexiness vanished in her escape to the master bathroom.

Yoona tangled fingers into her hair, now a worse type of frustrated. Picking up where Alter-Yoona left off toted no shortage of challenges. An incomplete puzzle. To know her situations, her relations, her obligations, she must learn. Take cues from others. Read, research.

Work.

Pre-death Yoona would consider this a good excuse to run away. To avoid the hard stuff. To crawl to Chanhwi on her hands and knees, needing his shelter.

The Chanhwi who killed her.

She wriggled into the thick bedding. Listening to Jessica's shower and nightly routine. Stalling, waiting. Too afraid to fall asleep without her angel at her side.

...

A body of lavender mint glided beneath the sheets at midnight. Yoona purred at the aroma, feeling goosebumps raise under the fabric of her pajama shirt.

“You took forever, Sica.”

Jessica stilled in the darkness. “Not busy on your phone?”

“Nah, I can't remember my damn passcode.”

“Haeun's birthday.”

“Ye-yeah,” Yoona stuttered, smacking her forehead too hard while she lied. “Tried that. Stupid thing might be busted.”

“You waited up for me?”

She milked the opportunity to shimmy closer. “It's impossible to sleep without you.”

Jessica's pillow muffled a scoff. “You do it often.”

“What matters is the present,” she said, cursing this alternate self for inherited drama. “I'd rather be here.”

“Because your phone's broken.”

Yoona flexed a hand in the darkness. God, couldn't anything progress smoothly? “Sica, please. I'm afraid of my dreams.”

“Dreams about what?”

Dreams of the Void. The possibility of waking in a coffin, infinite paralysis. “Nothing. If you're near.”

A third of an eternity later, Jessica twisted in place, slender fingers cupping, tracing the contour of Yoona's neck. “You're so vulnerable tonight.”

Vulnerable. Perfect word. “You like?”

Jessica fused their lips into an effortless seam. Unheard of in Yoona's past life, where she swapped clumsy slobber with barhoppers and faked passion into Chanhwi's ear. Jessica's lithe, kneading flesh made her lashes flutter, the tips of her fingers antsy, the space between her thighs go molten.

This fierce sensation would be fine for the night. Jessica--her partner, wife, girlfriend-- deserved someone with self-control. She'd slaved all day in an office, burned through interns, and managed to get home to her kids, flawlessly presentable.

“G'night,” she breathed into Jessica's mouth.

She felt her smile. “Night, Yoong.”

Yoong. So effin’ cute.

This new chapter excited her. A fabulous home, tasty food, quirky kids. Happily coupled to an angel. Reeling, Yoona imparted one last kiss, disregarding her hand roaming into Jessica's shirt.

An abrupt flinch knocked her sober.

Yoona's hand rebounded to her lap. “Sorry?”

“Raincheck, remember?”

No, she couldn't. “Did I...cross some sort of boundary?”

“I'm tired.”

“You were into it like five seconds ago.”

“I'm tired,” Jessica restated, rolling to her side. “Goodnight.”

Yoona fell into a perplexed repose. Running mental play-by-plays, receiving 404 errors of where she went wrong. She surely couldn't give in to her dreams now. What if she failed a mission?

Shit, what if she'd have to try a separate life tomorrow?

No way.

“Jessica?”

“Hm?”

“Can I hold you? That's all.”

She didn't think for long. “Yes.”

Yoona secured an arm safely around Sooyeon's waist. Even paused a few beats to keep herself in check. When lavender mint shifted to lay flush against her shape, Yoona pressed warm lips to her angel's hair and sighed. Thank you.

...

Couple dynamics change, depending on one's partner. That's why when the doorbell rang at a wretched 5:30 in the morning, Yoona galloped out of bed at once. She wasn't proud of cowering behind a man--she silently stole down the wooden stairs--but, Chanhwi made it easy for her. He was first to grab the wheel, designated to answer sketchy night or morning intrusions like society's ideal male.

Her pulse raced, neck veins throbbed--after-effects of her dream. Of textless, kinetic darkness. Being awake saved her from that, as did Jessica's needy whimper when Yoona's arms left her skin.

“Who could it be?” She grabbed the first object her foot tapped in the dim living room. Bypassing the peephole, she drew the door open, ready to defend herself and her family.

“Mornin', whore,” Tiffany greeted behind a paper grocery bag.

“Um,” Yoona stepped aside for the visitor sporting spandex capris and a bouncy ponytail. “Can I help you?”

“You're not dressed. Late night?”

Was midnight early? Was 5am late?

“No worries,” Tiffany chirped, bopping to the kitchen. “There's an insane sale on flaxseed. I'll blend us a couple post-jog smoothies while you get sorted.”

Yoona didn't sign up for early morning runs. “You're fit, Fany. Is this necessary?”

Tiffany clucked her teeth, unsealing a tub of plain Greek yogurt. “But, how does this hot mama keep her figure? Tuesday night gyming with Jessica, a treadmill in my den, and Saturday morning jogs with you, my bestie.”

This was her best friend? Yoona lowered her allegedly protective weapon--Joonie's xylophone--to the counter.

Saturday, morning, and jog made no sense together. No damn sense. “My head hurts.”

“Your wife and I pushed out placenta and screaming aliens,” her friend lectured, jabbing Yoona with the blunt end of a spoon. “Be thankful we didn't let ourselves go. Like ol' Mrs. Whatsherface down the street. That woman is...” Tiffany bobbed her sassy eyebrows for an inside joke.

The brunette relented, trekking back upstairs in deep thought.

Jessica was her wife. The person who gave birth to both Haeun and Joonie. Yoona palmed her own stomach and laced a green pair of Nikes, pondering why.

...

Tiffany's mouth restarted once their sneakers hit pavement. “About my blender. I have a story.”

Yoona grinned. Nobody brought up her blender.

“That Man creeped his dumb ass into the house around 2am, obviously snooping. I may or may not have mentioned online dating on Twitter last night and he's jealous. Fucking jealous as a child,” she rambled, tapping blips into the pedometer at her wrist. “Looking for an overnight guest, the bonehead. When I flicked on the lights, demanding an explanation, he barked some shit about needing my blender since he supposedly paid for it. It's so like him to ask for an appliance instead of--I don't know--Thing One or Two.”

“Not Thing Three?”

“Thing Three resembles him the least; so, by nature's law, he's bound to shun or claw him alive.”

“Oh.”

Fany and That Man were both crazy.

“My cousin arranged a date for me.” She bumped shoulders with Yoona. “A physical trainer. Isn't that a treat?”

“Sounds buff.”

“I hope so. Watch the Trips that night? He's picking me up Wednesday, 10pm sharp.”

“So late?”

“It's when his wife's not home.”

When Yoona's jaw fell, Tiffany broke into a closed-eye cackle. “Yoona! Really!?”

“Y-you could be desperate,” she huffed between strained breaths. Her lungs already stung and the morning chill hadn't eroded. Jogging sucked.

They slowed on the sidewalk to take a break.

Offering water, Tiffany asked, “No endurance, either? Is it Opposite Day?”

“I'm-I'm just,” Yoona stammered, almost too shy to continue. She deserved to rant, too. “I'm not feeling like myself lately.”

“Who do you feel like?”

She shrugged, quaffing another gulp before handing the bottle over.

Tiffany's eyes softened to something distressing, sympathetic. “Is Jessica still busy all the time?”

Yes? No? “We had dinner yesterday.”

“I mean afterwards. Is she...” A BMW cruised by; Tiffany watched it until she whispered, “You can tell me anything, girl. We're the Lonely Hearts Joggers, remember?”

That snapped Yoona's head in place. “Huh?”

“Judgement-free.”

She resumed a light trot, bidding Tiffany to follow. “What do you know, Fany?”

Since Yoona hadn't a clue.

“Only what you tell me on these jogging routes,” she said, lightyears more approachable than earlier. “You and Jessica clash; then, she spends hours at a time at work. Or, you lock yourself in your study and...”

Self-proclaimed bestie sipped her water. Avoiding eye contact.

“Fany?”

“I like Jessica. I like you and Jessica. Don't make me pick sides.”

“I won't,” Yoona rushed, regretting her question, “I won't do that.”

“Hey, good news!” Tiffany face brightened for her subject change. “My band's almost complete.”

Random. A smile plucked at her lips. “Your band?”

“My rock band--name pending. Consists of me and a few other divorced peeps from the neighborhood. We have a private chat on Facebook.” She did a little twerk. “It'll be an awesome stress reliever. Practice will commence in my basement.”

“Are you joking? What's your role?”

“Lead singer! What else?” She shoved at Yoona's raised brow. “You should join us!”

“I'm not divorced.”

“You and Jessica are the only openly gay couple for miles. Every pariah in this snobby community is welcome to blast some eardrums.”

“I play drums, in that case.”

“Hired! You'll be our hot lesbo drummer. If--” Tiffany trailed off, voice acutely less thrilled. “If Jessica lets you.”

Yoona would laugh if offense didn't hit her like a xylophone. “I don't need anyone's permission.”

“Cool. I'll link you our roster.”

Adopting Alter-Yoona's life equated to finishing a story she'd never read. If she wished to keep her shiny family, house, friends, and flaxseed smoothies, she'd have to put in legitimate effort. Delve into this version of her self's psyche.

Because all the shiny would go to rust at this rate.

...

Swinging their thick smoothies high, Yoona and her new not-new bestie toasted to an hour of physical activity and the birth of their renegade music group. Shortly after, Tiffany bid farewell--minutes bathing before a Thing awoke was sacred and quite limited. Jessica tapped downstairs in time to wave her off.

Morning Jessica sparkled as brightly as business lady Jessica. Rich hair gleamed in loose curls down her back, eyes were adorned with liner and not an ounce of sleep, and a charcoal sweater topped her jeans. She fancied Jessica in black, Yoona gathered.

“Coffee?” Jessica proposed, wafting a bag of dark roast under her nose.

“No, thanks.” Yoona rinsed gooey mugs and a blender bowl, half-grinning. She felt domestic and--for once--it wasn't forced upon her. “Fany fed me yogurt and lots of on-sale flaxseed.”

“Mm.”

“Morning plans?”

“When don't I have those?”

Not exactly chipper at this hour, her wife. Yoona padded alongside the sleek counter island and dipped her head for a kiss. Jessica tacked on a quick peck, then thumbed her iPad for the top headlines.

“Mature Sica,” she teased.

“Sweaty rascal,” Jessica retorted, smiling shyly at the lips tickling her cheek. “Any new projects for you?”

It dawned on Yoona; she had a profession. So she wasn't a trophy wife, destined to ride the coattails of an affluent exec. What a relief. “Good question. I should investigate.”

In her study. The next place to tackle.

Yoona cycloned through her shower and hair care, increasingly restless. She'd never owned a home, not even an apartment. Chanhwi took care of that stuff for years after she abandoned her college dorm. Meaning Yoona hadn't called a space “hers” since her childhood bedroom.

On the third floor, the study's slab of space exuded privacy, as it was separated from the rec room by a hall. Narrow yet finely furnished, like the rest of the house. Units stuffed with books hovered upon the angled walls, leaving room for an adjustable standing desk, framed graphic prints, and stacks of cellophane-wrapped canvases.

“Damn.” Yoona melted into the ergonomic chair of her dreams. “What the hell do I do? Sell drugs?”

She snorted at her joke and whirled in a wide-legged circle. Fatigue from jogging seeped from her body, faded into the blur of her spins. Hence, when Yoona sensed her smoothie making a comeback, she kicked to a graceless stop. She was too elated to care.

Besides, revolving like a kiddie landed her on an important item. Her calendar.

“C'mon,” she whined, flipping each month until--thank her angel--Haeun's birthday appeared. Circled in pink, the 'color for babies.' Confident for the first time since the Void released her, Yoona collected Jessica and Joonie's birthdays, too.

Haeun's birthday worked like a charm for her slandered phone. As did Jessica's birthday on her macbook. The desktop computer unlocked for neither.

Didn't deter Yoona now; as long as her access pool expanded. Setting her phone aside, she scrolled through her emails, concluding her career as a freelance copy editor.

“Holy shit, my degree's not decoration.”

Chanhwi talked so much trash about her creative writing major. Amazingly, a universe away, Alter-Yoona stuck to the same field and succeeded. She'd tell him to suck it if...

Her pointer froze over a search engine box. Did she really need to look the bastard up?

Instead, she researched herself. Her more accomplished, successful self.

Awards, accolades, hoards of satisfied clients. Yoona was almost jealous for not living it out personally.

The ensuing two hours comprised of exploration, clicks, hunger to absorb more, more, more about this world's Im Yoona. Around 9:30am, a wail from the second floor announced Joonie's trudge out of bed. She thought to run down and split Jessica's burden. But, she'd fallen into the rabbithole of trans-universal narcissism. This was the information she hoped for--unknown layers of her identity.

Besides, Jessica had strong authority over the children. Yoona would help next time.

And right as her mind traveled, predicting Superior-Yoona's hidden folders of bestiality porn or bank statements for a shopping addiction...

Yoona found it. Pandora's Box.

The password to another email. Not a public account, judging by its lack of pictures. She eyed the door, itching to lock it. God, what would she find?

Many, many messages. Mostly from the same person. A woman's name. Dating back roughly three years ago. Mixed in there were subscription updates to a forum titled:

Married and Lonely

Fuck.

She scrolled, pupils bouncing too fast to process everything. Only one thing hammered her brain: cheater, cheater.

A cheater. Like her father.

Yoona swore she'd never adhere to his two-timing footsteps. Because it fucked up the family. Stunted her with shattered trust, a broken spirit, the knowledge that her picture-perfect parents were phonies. Her father for sneaking behind his wife's back, begging his own daughter to keep quiet. And her mother for turning a deaf ear when Yoona told her the truth.

Her hypocrite father was the first to reject her sexuality. Loudly, audaciously.

Then, Yoona and her mother went head-to-head years later, regarding Chanhwi. Disapproving of her lifestyle--spending weeks at a time at a professor's home. Unmarried and destined for gossip. Yoona moved out of the dorm, anyway, allowing Chanhwi to foot her tuition after her parents' money transfers screeched to a halt.

“Fuck,” Yoona finally cried aloud. “I can't be him.”

She couldn't be her father. Nor turn Jessica...

Jessica.

Yoona refused to turn Jessica into her mother. To cage their kids in deceit.

She'd done everything in her previous life to avoid infidelity. Now, she had to deal with this silver-spooned bitch of an Im Yoona fumbling the ball.

“Yoong?”

When did Jessica arrive? How'd Yoona not hear her? Illustrating guilt at its worst, she clapped her laptop closed as their met eyes.

Her wife's glance to the action curdled the Greek yogurt in Yoona's gut.

“Are you available for breakfast?”

Yoona quavered in her seat. She'd break down if she so much as stood up. “I'm not.”

“Joonie asked for you.” Jessica's laugh sounded fake, hollow. “He probably wants you to juggle his oatmeal. He's obsessed.”

“Next time.”

“You're normal again. Welcome back.” Ending there, Jessica retreated to the hall.

Alone, Yoona let the tears run. This discovery triggered memories of a past she'd preferably erase.

Cruel, damned circumstances wrecked the shiny before she knew her own ATM PIN. Hesitantly, she skimmed the latest emails with this non-Jessica woman.

She ignored the name; couldn't stand it yet.

The conversations were intimate. Words like, 'care', 'need', 'heart', and 'hurt' occurred often. 'Love' barely referenced, she quietly celebrated. By the content and exchange frequency, she questioned if Alter-Yoona met her in person.

Although, an emotional affair was an affair nonetheless. Yoona hung her head, ashamed.

...

Only dirty dishes and cinnamon's faint aroma remained of breakfast. Inclined to be useful, Yoona scrubbed the bowls and dishes, placing them to dry on a rack. Joonie's bat-shaped bowl struck a chord. She'd squandered an opportunity to make him smile. To earn a round of applause via Haeun's tiny hands.

Missing the munchkins already, she wandered to the growing source of noise--the recollection of a dream in a girl's squeaky timbre. Compliments of Little Diva. Yoona grinned as she approached at the portion about a “tree the size of Mars”, underscored by Haeun's arms echoing her claim.

Haeun looked adorable. A caterpillar headband sat atop her finely brushed hair, her dimpled cheeks carried an extra bit of rosiness, and her heavy eyelids squished into a smile when Yoona sat on the corner of her unicorn bed.

The girl's bedroom was a jungle--plush critters of all colors engulfed her pillows, rain forest decals shimmered green and yellow sunshine, a life-sized stuffed boa constrictor braided on her curtain rod.

A consummate nerdy princess.

“Where are we going?” Yoona asked, watching Jessica knot a scarf over Haeun's butterfly jacket.

“The usual weekend lineup--Dance, English lessons, enrichment courses,” Jessica answered for them. “Joonie has speech and football. Team meeting at Coach Jonghyun's house afterwards.”

Yoona stroked the fur of a soft buffalo. “It's Saturday. Whatever happened to vegging out on snacks and cartoons?”

“They'll go nowhere with that attitude.”

“They're five and three.”

“Joonie, come here, sweetie,” Jessica called, mild irritation clouding her voice. “Let Mummy check your throat.”

The mini athlete, garbed in a coat and green knee socks, entered the room. Mouth wide open for inspection. As his mother peeped and probed, Yoona noted the My Little Pony clip sparkling from his bangs. Interesting.

“Is he on a boys' team or what?”

Jessica smoothed Joonie's hair, refastening the accessory. “Can you not?”

“I was kidding.”

“Yoona. Please.”

No nickname. She deserved that. “When do our children chill? They're too young to be stressed.”

Jessica ordered the kids downstairs. Skipping a few seconds until she spun on her heel. “Haeun and Joonie aren't stressed; they're diligent.”

“Have you asked them?”

“I'm in charge of their schedules today. I'll tie some loose ends at the office in between,” she said, fingers plucking at her sleeve.

Tiffany's jogging talk came to mind. “How long will you take?”

“Don't worry. No-one will disturb your genius.”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“Are we done here?”

“Fine,” Yoona grumbled, sorry that she actually was anxious to hop to her study. She had hundreds of messages to apprehend. “Dinner buddies tonight?”

“We'll stop by the fresh market to eat, so...” Jessica hiked her shoulder, a silver twinkle accenting her half-wave. “You're on your own.”

“Bye.”

Deserted, Yoona wanted to choke this buffalo. To transmit her anger somewhere harmless. As her knuckles whitened at the animal's neck, a new observation added itself to the jumblefuck of her life.

Jessica wore her wedding band.

Where was Yoona's?



--
SMILES EVERYWHERE, YES???

Comments

[regreted.livejournal.com]

damn straight!

id learn to tame those little beast monkeys for that milf.

[checkinyourbra.livejournal.com]

YAAAAS. TELL'UM.

BTW: YOUR USERPIC. <3333333 BABY SOSHI.