Work Text:
It started, as many things do, with a call.
Dahyun had a friend, who knew a man, who knew an assistant, who knew someone who knew Chou Tzuyu: International model, singer, and who was on the cover of every respected magazine out there for the past 6 months. And coincidentally, Miss Tzuyu had been wanting to request a very specific job; one that Chaeyoung knew how to do quite well. So Dahyun contacted her vast network of somewhat-famous friends and now there she was.
And really, Chaeyoung had had worse.
“You’re welcome.” Dahyun’s voice on the phone was annoyingly smug and Chaeyoung wanted to smack the stupid grin she knew was plastered on her face, off her face.
“I never thanked you,” Chaeyoung replied as she stared at the huge ornamented door. She had always wondered how rich people lived, but nothing could really have prepared her for the size of Chou Tzuyu’s mansion – door included. “Can I bail? Is this still an option?”
“No!” Dahyun pretty much yelled, making Chaeyoung put some distance between the phone and her damaged ear. “Come on Chaeng, I went through a lot to get you this job, don’t blow it.”
“You don’t understand, I’m staring at a piece of wood that is probably worth three times my life,” She had never been so impressed by a door. Being an artist, her eyes caught on details on the carvings that were out of this world – it looked like a tree trunk had been sculpted by angels, then polished by fairies. “I’m dressed like an art student on finals.”
“All of your clothes scream ‘art student on finals’.” Dahyun retorted. “It’s endearing, she’ll love it.”
“She will think I’m trick or treating two months earlier.”
“How long have you been just staring at the goddamn door, Son Chaeyoung?”
“Uh,” She stuttered, averting her eyes from the carvings. “I don’t have to answer you.”
She could hear Dahyun’s sigh. “Press the doorbell, nerd. You’ll do great, I believe in you.”
With a loud, exaggerated groan, Chaeyoung finally muttered a ‘fine’ and hung up. With the phone safely tucked in her pocket, she bit her lip and hesitated a few more seconds before ringing the bell. The sound echoed loudly through the house and she could only begin to imagine how huge that place was on the inside.
There wasn’t an answer for a couple of seconds and Chaeyoung genuinely almost turned around to run away. Then the door moved.
And on the other side was Chou Tzuyu herself, ready to greet her visitor.
Chaeyoung was surprised; she’d been expecting a butler, or maid, or some sort of servant – but the model herself? She hadn’t been prepared for this.
And Tzuyu was…
Well, beautiful didn’t make her justice.
First thing Chaeyoung noticed about Tzuyu: bare-faced. She had seen Chou Tzuyu on magazine covers so often that she’d almost forgotten that there was a real person behind all the heavy make-up and Photoshop. Her skin was darker than the photos made her out to be, and her hair was straight and dark brown, which complimented her features incredibly well.
Second thing Chaeyoung noticed about Tzuyu: simple, comfortable clothes. Well, the woman was at home, probably the only place where she was allowed to be herself without the flashing cameras and judgmental stares weighting down on her all the time.
Third thing Chaeyoung noticed about Tzuyu?
“You must be Miss Son Chaeyoung.” A soothing voice, followed by a genuine smile.
Chaeyoung’s brain short-circuited for a split second, then she automatically bowed. “Nice to meet you, Miss Tzuyu.” And when their eyes met again, her cheeks flushed and she held her art supplies tighter against her chest.
A goddess walks among men, and we are unaware of her raw power.
“Please, come in,” Tzuyu gestured for her to step inside and Chaeyoung’s legs moved on their own. She felt like something was left behind as the mansion’s door closed, but something even greater had made its way into her body and soul.
Perhaps it was dramatic, but Chaeyoung had always been a poet at heart.
--
As expected, the mansion was abnormally huge.
Chaeyoung simply followed Tzuyu through corridors and rooms, turning and walking upstairs, then downstairs, past a garden with a fountain and birds flocking to the trees, then back into the house. The place was a maze, and Chaeyoung could feel her beating heart getting lost into its walls.
It took them a while, but they finally arrived at a room at the very back of the mansion. It was well lit, although a bit empty. There were no couches or tables anywhere, no rugs on the floor or clocks on the white walls, and the young artists frowned, a bit confused. Chaeyoung’s eyes scanned the place and she gaped when she finally realized that this wasn’t simply a room.
It was a studio.
“I hope it’s to your liking,” Tzuyu sounded shy and tentative, as if she was trying to break out of her shell. “I usually take photos here, but I figured it could work?”
“It’s perfect,” Chaeyoung said without thinking, then blushed. “I m-mean, my studio back home is a lot smaller, so this is heaven.”
Tzuyu giggled at the wording and Chaeyoung’s heart could simply leap out of her throat from the sound. Everything about this girl was a contrast to the place she lived and life she led; she was quiet and a bit introverted, not at all the famous Chou Tzuyu people talked about.
Chaeyoung liked it.
“I will fetch some chairs,” Tzuyu said, walking past Chaeyoung. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Water, please,” Then instinctively, “Two cups.”
“Of course.” With a shy smile, the model was gone and Chaeyoung hit her head on her canvas, slightly. She was used to having to cups of water around – one for drinking and one for dipping her brushes into – but it was probably rude to ask for it bluntly like this.
“Don’t blow it, don’t blow it,” Chaeyoung whispered to herself as she worked on setting up her canvas.
She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders again and sighed.
--
“So, should I just sit here?” Tzuyu had a chair in one hand and was clumsily trying to figure out where to put it like a lost puppy. Chaeyoung, who was taking out her extensive paint collection out of her bag, stared at her and smiled.
“Yes, right there is perfect.”
With a nod, Tzuyu finally allowed herself to sit down. She shifted awkwardly on her spot for a moment, looking around and avoiding eye contact as the painter finished her preparations for the session. Tzuyu noticed the second cup of water sitting next to the canvas with three brushes inside it and smiled briefly at that. So that’s what it was for.
She took a moment to appreciate Chaeyoung’s diligence as she focused all of her attention on the specific materials and checked each and every paint individually. She was probably trying to figure out the ones to use and the ones who wouldn’t be necessary; a true professional. There were so many brushes and other materials inside the painter’s bag that Tzuyu couldn’t possibly name all of them. She was glad to have called her, she looked like the perfect person for the job.
Chaeyoung was apparently done with her materials and put both hands on her hips, analyzing the room. Then she looked right at Tzuyu and frowned, and the model felt her cheeks heating up from the strong stare. “Um… is something wrong?”
Blinking, Chaeyoung snapped out of her trance and shook her head vigorously. “I’m s-sorry! I was just checking the illumination around your frame. I didn’t mean to stare!”
The outburst was so cute that Tzuyu couldn’t suppress a gentle laugh, bringing one hand to cover her mouth. “I see. If that’s the case, you can stare.”
And if it was anyone else, Chaeyoung would be sure she had just been flirted with; but Chou Tzuyu didn’t appear to have one malicious bone in her body. Trying to kill the awkward mood, Chaeyoung decided to talk business.
“Well, r-regarding my working method,” She sat down on the chair near her. “A portrait this big requires time, as you’ve been previously informed, so I’m sure we’ll need several sessions before the painting is complete. I hope you understand.”
“Of course.”
“I’m completely at your service, so whenever you feel tired, or bored, please don’t hesitate to tell me. We can take as many breaks as you wish,” Tzuyu nodded and Chaeyoung continued. “And I will only accept the payment once the work is done. Is this okay?”
“Yes,” The model smiled. “This is exciting.”
Chaeyoung couldn’t help but to smile back – what an infectious expression. “Is this the first time you model for a painting?”
“It is,” She adjusted herself on the chair. “I thought I would need to be dressed formally for this.”
“Your essence is the most important. Clothes, make-up, illumination, everything else can be added without changing the original material,” Chaeyoung didn’t notice Tzuyu’s expression when she said that, and got up, taking one of her brushes. “Shall we begin?”
Tzuyu smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”
--
When Chaeyoung got into art school, she didn’t care much for technique. All of her professors kept scolding her posture, the way she held the brush, her brashness and carelessness; Son Chaeyoung didn’t care about fancy terms. She wanted to paint, and she was going to paint the way she liked it.
She graduated college with a major score on her final piece, much to the school faculty’s displeasure.
For some reason, however, when she began painting professionally, she remembered all of the tricks her teachers had taught her. Suddenly, each stroke was meticulously planned, every single brush had a function, and the colors had to be mixed perfectly with a lot of thought beforehand. Chaeyoung wondered if that happened because she had started taking art seriously, or if art had become dull and just a way for her to earn money.
Chaeyoung didn’t know if she liked to paint for profit.
But now?
It was weird, how her mind forgot all about this dilemma as she tried to portray Tzuyu on her canvas.
The model was sitting still, not daring to move, and they’ve been there for thirty minutes. Chaeyoung had sketched her and was now polishing the edges, working on anatomy and body language. She had asked for a simple work, nothing extravagant, but a realistic portrait was always a challenge, it didn’t matter how many times Chaeyoung had done it before.
She had to keep peeking at Tzuyu every now and then to capture all the details, and the model smiled shyly at her every time their eyes met. Chaeyoung couldn’t help but to bite her lip and grin back, and this had been going on for thirty minutes.
She moved carefully around the canvas, her pencil gentle against the raspy surface, sketching lines that were merely visible. She would strengthen them in a few minutes, creating the path in which her brushes would slide through and bring the work to life.
“For how long have you been working with paintings?” Tzuyu’s voice broke the silence and Chaeyoung almost tripped on her own feet.
“Oh, a few months. Almost a year, I think?” She wondered if that’d been a good thing to say. She didn’t want Tzuyu to think she was a rookie. “But I’ve been painting for a lot longer.”
“I see,” A silent beat, and then, “Do you like it?”
“I do.” No hesitation there. “I’ve always liked drawing.”
“Ever since you were a child?”
“Yeah,” Chaeyoung showed her a toothy grin and it was really cute. “My mother used to buy me coloring books. I guess she knew, back then.”
Tzuyu giggled. “Did she celebrate when you told her that you were going to become an artist?”
“Oh, not at first, no,” Chaeyoung shook her head, remembering. “She tried to talk me out of it. Said that I had to be financially secure in the future and all that jazz.” She poked her tongue out as she sketched the rest of Tzuyu’s hair. “Never listened to her, though.”
Tzuyu hummed and closed her eyes, resting her head on the chair. “How brave.”
“I guess I’ve always been a bit reckless,” Chaeyoung stepped back and compared the sketch to the person in front of her. She smiled at the result and finally put her pencil down. “But when I see my works coming to life, there is not a single thing I regret about my decision.”
The model curved her lips upwards and opened her eyes to stare back at her. “I know that feeling.”
Chaeyoung believed her.
--
They took a break after two hours, which was an impressive amount of time. Usually one hour in and her clients were already fidgety, but Tzuyu kept her posture the whole time. Chaeyoung was worried that the girl was getting tired, so she was the one who suggested a pause. “We can come back later.”
Tzuyu agreed and got up, stretching her rusted limbs. She was used to posing for pictures, but even a professional model had her limits. Chaeyoung put her brushes down and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. Her short hair was tied up on a tiny ponytail and she had a smudge of brown paint on her cheek, not to mention her already dirtied apron. Tzuyu laughed a little at that and Chaeyoung tilted her head to the side, confused.
“You have something on your cheek,” Tzuyu clarified and the painter blushed, wiping her face with her other sleeve.
“It doesn’t matter how careful I try to be, working with paint is always a mess.”
“It suits you,” Tzuyu grinned, walking towards her. Chaeyoung froze for a second, but the girl just walked past her and looked over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s breathe some fresh air.”
Oh, okay.
Chaeyoung nodded and took off her apron, following her helplessly beyond the door, her legs turning into jelly. She blamed it on standing up for so long.
The garden was the one they had walked past when Tzuyu guided her to the studio, and now, at the beginning of the evening, the birds were calmer and the air chillier. It was still really hot, so Chaeyoung rolled up her sleeves. Tzuyu gestured for her to sit down at the bench in the middle of the grass and left to grab some beverages. Chaeyoung obeyed and rested, looking up at the evening sky.
That was her favorite time of the day, and when her inspiration usually kicked in. With a natural smile, she grabbed a small notebook from her pocket – that one never left her side – and a tiny pen, and started to write.
Poems and poetry
Words are born from feelings
But sometimes
Overruled by them
When Aphrodite decided to come to Earth
Was she aware of her power?
She analyzed the tiny poem, not sure if she was satisfied with the final product. The breeze hit her bangs, and at that point, Chaeyoung decided that she wasn’t striving for perfection.
“Do you write too?” Tzuyu’s voice made her jump on her seat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“N-no, no, it’s okay,” Chaeyoung had closed the notebook instinctively. She noticed the glass of juice being offered and bowed slightly, grabbing the beverage. “I… like to write a few poems from time to time.”
Tzuyu sat down next to her, leaving a gap between them. “A complete artist, aren’t you?”
“Hardly,” Chaeyoung was used to compliments, but that didn’t mean she knew how to respond to them – especially when it was Chou Tzuyu spitting them at her direction. She just didn’t feel worthy of being praised by someone sculpted by Michelangelo himself. “It’s more of a hobby, really.”
“Hobbies are important.” Tzuyu smiled, taking a sip of her iced tea.
“They don’t even rhyme.” Chaeyoung retorted and that made the model laugh.
“Poems don’t have to rhyme,” She hesitated for a bit. “…Do they?”
Innocent – the question made Chaeyoung’s heart ache.
“Not really.” She answered and both girls exchanged a glance. Chaeyoung’s toothy smile was back and she looked down at her glass of juice, drinking to compensate her shyness.
The silence was comfortable as the birds sang and the soft wind touched their lungs. The glowing rays of the last moments of the sun danced along their legs, kissing Tzuyu’s bare skin and Chaeyoung’s pants.
It’s nice, being together like this, was a thought that crossed Chaeyoung’s mind.
She felt warm.
“What made you want a painting of yourself?” The sentence left Chaeyoung’s mouth before she could hold her tongue and regret filled her stomach immediately. That kind of personal question was against her values; she had never asked anyone this. She had no idea what even prompted it.
“Oh,” Tzuyu fidgeted with her hands a little and Chaeyoung was about to apologize. “It’s a gift to someone.”
She didn’t expect her to answer.
“I s-see.” She blinked, nervously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s alright,” Tzuyu turned, and smiled, and their eyes met – the closest they’ve been so far – and Chaeyoung could see the sun reflecting on the beautiful hazel orbs, glistening against the illumination. Something got stuck in Chaeyoung’s throat when Tzuyu held their gaze for a second too long, and a feeling, forgotten, yet familiar, crawled up her chest, almost reaching her—
“Would you like to go back inside?” The artist felt the physical need to break this wonderful spell, or else she would be completely and entirely consumed.
“Okay.” Tzuyu’s voice was tinged with something – disappointment, perhaps. Or relief. There was a thin line between both these feelings, and Chaeyoung had never been good in distinguishing them.
Both girls got up, leaving the garden – and the seed of a blossoming flower – behind.
--
When Aphrodite came to Earth
She had only one mission
And she carried it out perfectly
Truly
Madly
Deeply
Unfortunately
--
“Thank you for coming today.” As soon as Chaeyoung finished packing up her materials for the day, she felt Tzuyu’s shoulder bumping into hers.
“Thank you for having me.” Chaeyoung replied with a grin. They walked side by side through the endless maze of corridors back to the main entrance, and Chaeyoung hadn’t really noticed how tall Tzuyu was compared to her until now. She had never been the tallest of her classmates, but still.
She side-eyed Tzuyu towering over her.
Oh well, it didn’t bother her.
“When do you think you’ll be available again?” The question came from Tzuyu, which was weird considering that the model was the one with the chaotic schedule, not Chaeyoung.
“I don’t really have other clients as of now, so… whenever you want.” The painter answered.
“Oh,” Tzuyu was caught by surprise and stopped on her tracks, making Chaeyoung pause and look back at her. Then a meek murmur: “Then… are you free tomorrow?”
She hadn’t been expecting to be called back so early; her clients usually took a 2-day break before repeating the whole tiring process.
“I am.” The words left her mouth before Chaeyoung could process them. Tzuyu’s features lit up and she nodded, resuming her steps.
Chaeyoung didn’t even remember her plans for tomorrow, but really, if it meant to see that expression on Chou Tzuyu’s face, then she would gladly cancel them.
Finally arriving at the door, Tzuyu opened it and Chaeyoung stepped out, turning back to her and bowing once again. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience today.”
“Not at all. I’m happy you came.” Her grin should be immortalized, Chaeyoung thought – not in a sculpture or a painting, but in people’s memories. “I’ll look forward to tomorrow.”
“Me too.” She was honest, despite her beating heart. “So… goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
Chaeyoung stood there a bit longer than necessary, as if waiting for something, then awkwardly bowed again, and finally walked away. She could hear the model’s characteristic giggle behind her, but not the door closing. Chaeyoung didn’t want to assume anything so she pretended that the massive door was just very silent.
Her heart leaped a beat when she finally heard the usual clink of the locks.
By then, she was very well outside the mansion’s view.
The door was not silent, after all.
--
An artist lying awake in bed wasn’t an uncommon sight, and Chaeyoung was currently one of many in the statistic. The room was dark, save from the table light next to her bed and the city glow below. It was nearly 2:00am and Chaeyoung couldn’t stop fidgeting, tossing and turning, thinking, feeling.
She had written so many poems in the past hour – they usually helped her jumbled mind to calm down and allowed sleep to settle. But not tonight.
She’d created an anthology around this Aphrodite character and she didn’t even know why, or what direction she was going with this. It felt natural to follow this creative flow, so that’s what she’d decided to do, but it was also frustrating.
Aphrodite wasn’t helping her go to sleep.
With a sigh, Chaeyoung sat up and rubbed her eyes, sighing. She needed to be well rested for another painting session tomorrow, but her body wasn’t in the mood to cooperate. So, she closed her eyes and scooted until her back touched the wall.
“Alright, what is going on?” Chaeyoung murmured to herself – having a conversation with her inner conflicts sounded crazy, but it helped her.
No one answered, obviously, but her brain didn’t need an outer voice. It began flashing images of her day; from Dahyun’s call to the ornamented door, to the garden, to the studio, to— Tzuyu.
Chou Tzuyu wouldn’t leave her mind.
“So that’s how it is,” A groan left her lips and she opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling. Then she let her gaze fall on the canvas in the corner of the room, where Tzuyu’s sketch was. She usually tried not to pay too much attention to the rough sketch, since it would be erased and replaced by colors, adding depth and meaning to the canvas, but – she couldn’t stop looking at it.
It was like she was trying to remember Tzuyu’s face – every detail, from her cheekbones to the way the evening sky shone against her eyes. She could nearly hear her faint giggle, too, dripping from her mouth and into Chaeyoung’s ears. She felt herself smiling at the thought, then shook her head, running her fingers through her locks.
“What a mess,” Tired, Chaeyoung laid down again, frustrated at herself and her hopelessness. “Go to sleep.”
She didn’t.
--
She had a feeling that today, Tzuyu answered the door faster than she’d done yesterday.
It was probably just her imagination.
--
Their meetings became less awkward with each passing session, and Tzuyu started opening up to Chaeyoung more and more. The painter didn’t want to intrude on the model’s personal life, or even her professional one at that, but it was nice to know a few tidbits here and there.
She had heard a few songs from Tzuyu playing in stores and cafés, but never thought much about it. Her voice was melodious and soothing, but other than that, Chaeyoung wouldn’t say that she was exactly a fan.
Not of the singer, at least.
“Smudge,” Tzuyu mentioned, pointing to Chaeyoung’s cheek.
“Huh? Oh, again?!” She tried to wipe it away, but it just became messier. Tzuyu giggled that characteristic giggle of hers and Chaeyoung blushed, laughing as well.
She could say for sure that she was becoming a fan of the person.
Especially when she smiled at her sweetly like that.
--
On their fourth session, Tzuyu’s door was already opened, waiting for the painter at the usual time. Chaeyoung could think of a few things worse than being greeted by that bright, beautiful smile.
--
On their fifth session, Tzuyu baked her muffins.
They were sweet, and eating them under the evening sky while listening to Tzuyu hum a quiet song would enter Chaeyoung’s list of ‘favorite moments in life’.
--
On their sixth session, Chaeyoung learned that the girl liked to play silly games.
“Apple.”
“Apple, banana.”
“Apple, banana, avocado.”
“Apple, banana, avocado, pineapple.”
“Pinappl— Wait!” Chaeyoung grunted in frustration as Tzuyu clapped her hands and laughed. “You did that on purpose!”
“Maybe,” Her mischievous smirk was a contrast to her innocent face, and Chaeyoung almost wished she had painted that expression instead of a common smile.
It also made her wonder what other beautiful expressions the woman was hiding.
--
On their seventh session, Chaeyoung realized that they had spent an entire week together. She’d never done such a long job before, but she wasn’t complaining. Chaeyoung came to realize soon enough that she looked forward to spending time with Tzuyu.
When her head hit the pillow at night, her dreams were filled with the tall woman’s features. Most times she smiled. Other times, Chaeyoung couldn’t make out her expression.
Every time, she woke up with a giddy feeling in her stomach.
It was weird, going to Tzuyu’s home everyday.
It was weirder coming back.
--
Their eighth session started a bit later because of the traffic.
It ended a lot later because of their conversations.
Chaeyoung couldn’t recall anything but the way Tzuyu’s eyes shone when she started talking about how much she loved animals.
--
Nine days later, and Chaeyoung should’ve been done with the painting already.
But for some reason, she wasn’t.
(She knew why).
--
“—And then my mom took my crayons away from me.” Chaeyoung finished her story and Tzuyu couldn’t stop laughing.
“She had to know you would become an artist after that.”
“That’s what I thought!” Chaeyoung laughed with her as she applied more paint to the background of the canvas. “Well, I, particularly, thought that the walls became a lot livelier with my scribbles all over it.”
“Well, maybe if you had scribbled on your bedroom instead of the living room…”
“You can’t restrain artists when they are inspired,” Chaeyoung dismissed the thought waving a hand, like it was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. Tzuyu only laughed harder and the painter peeked at her with a grin, poking her tongue out – she liked making Tzuyu laugh. Scratching her cheek, she focused back on the painting. “What about you? Got into any trouble when you were little?”
The model didn’t answer for a moment, catching her breath, then sighed happily. “Let me think…” She put one finger on her chin, searching her brain for anything remotely enjoyable, then widened her eyes. “Oh! When I was a kid, I used to steal my mother’s clothes to perform for my grandpa. It drove her crazy.”
Now it was Chaeyoung’s turn to laugh loudly. “Really?” She held the brush steadily in one hand as she painted useless details over and over again. “So you dreamed of becoming a singer ever since you were a child, too.”
“I wanted to be a star,” Her eyes became distant. “I watched movies and shows, and I wanted to be just like those idols on TV. I grew up to be very shy, however.” Tzuyu looked down at her hands. “I always had trouble opening up to strangers, and I wasn’t very charismatic. People told me I was beautiful, though, so I guess that’s why I’m here now.”
“That’s not why,” Chaeyoung said without missing a beat. “Beauty is a cheap concept.”
Tzuyu lifted her eyes and stared back at the painter, and Chaeyoung bit her tongue, realizing the weight of her words.
“I didn’t— I didn’t mean that. In this way. I’m sorry.” She tried to fix it with a bow and an apology, but the damage was done. She had insulted beauty in front of a model, what the hell was her problem?
“How did you mean it?” Tzuyu’s voice was neutral, and Chaeyoung couldn’t tell what she was feeling by her tone.
“I didn’t want to offend you, I’m very sorry.”
“Please, elaborate.”
Chaeyoung swallowed and put her brush down, breaking in cold sweat. Well, she was sure that Chou Tzuyu would kick her out of her house now and spread the word about how rude Son Chaeyoung was to her clients, so really, her career was pretty much over. It was like the last days hadn’t happened, all over a dumb comment. If she wanted an explanation before that, then it was the least she could do to try and keep some dignity.
“Artists… are surrounded by beauty every day. We—” She blinked, trying to keep her composure at least for a few minutes. “We’re drawn to it automatically. The things we paint must be beautiful, and the things that aren’t, are perfected through our art. So when you see beauty all the time… you come to realize that this concept is absurd. Art isn’t portraying beauty, but realizing that beauty can’t be portrayed, because it doesn’t exist.”
“Then what is it that exists?”
“Perfection,” Chaeyoung toyed with the ring on her thumb, remembering her own words on her final paper. “Perfection exists, because it doesn’t. It’s that feeling you get when you’re painting a bowl of fruit, and you realize that the apples are crooked and the oranges are damaged. The world is not beautiful. Therefore, it is.”
The atmosphere was so heavy that it could be cut with a knife and Chaeyoung still refused to meet Tzuyu’s eyes.
“…You give yourself so little credit,” Was the first thing the model said after a few moments, and Chaeyoung frowned, finally looking at her. “You are a complete artist.” Then, a smile.
It was like being hit by a truck, then taken care of.
Chou Tzuyu was going to be the death of her.
--
Their break was longer this time.
Both girls sat at the peaceful garden bench, sipping beverages, and enjoying the atmosphere. Chaeyoung had written another short poem while Tzuyu left to grab some drinks, but something still felt off about the way the words flowed effortlessly on the paper. She loved writing, but nothing had ever come this easily.
What was the mystery of Aphrodite?
Mankind wished to know
The mystery of Aphrodite
Was that they had to watch it grow
The ice cubes inside her apple juice seemed a lot colder against her hot skin.
“Don’t you get tired, standing up all this time?” Tzuyu’s voice was a quiet melody.
“I got used to it, really.” Chaeyoung answered automatically, but felt happy with her concern. The model hummed and they stood quiet again. The painter tapped her fingers against the glass, fidgety.
“I’m…” Chaeyoung broke the silence. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Earlier?”
“I feel like I insulted you,” She scratched the back of her neck. “I’m still feeling bad about it…”
The model turned to her, then shook her head. “You didn’t.” Then she looked down, a shy smile tucked on her lips. “I’m actually glad you said that. It made me rethink a lot of things.”
“Oh,” She blinked. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay.” Chaeyoung breathed out, feeling a magnetic force pulling her in. “I should clarify that I didn’t mean to say that you’re not beautiful. Because you are.”
She had no idea where this blatant comment came from, but it just felt like the right thing to say. It would be a sin to make this woman think she was anything less than a masterfully crafted art piece.
“Thank you,” Tzuyu shyly averted her eyes, but the gentle smile was present. “It makes me really happy to hear you say that.”
“Oh. Really?” Chaeyoung frowned.
“Yes. Is it hard to believe me?”
“No, no!” She felt her chest constricting. “I m-mean, it’s just… I thought that you’d probably be used to receiving comments like this.”
“I am,” Tzuyu’s eyes were now distant, the hazel orbs as shiny as always. “You’re right, it doesn’t mean much. At least, not coming from the wrong people.” Then she turned to look at the humble painter. “But when it comes from an artist who is used to seeing beauty all the time, it means so much more, I think.”
Chaeyoung couldn’t speak.
It always felt like galaxies collided whenever their eyes met, and this time was no different. Tzuyu was a lot taller than Chaeyoung, so her chin was tilted up as they looked at each other, and Chaeyoung didn’t want to blink – she was afraid that this moment would vanish into thin air if she did. It was like a veil, so fragile and almost invisible, covering them and isolating their forms from the outside world.
Perfection exists.
And at that moment Chaeyoung caught something in Tzuyu’s eyes; the usual calm cheerfulness had disappeared, being replaced by a deep sense of sadness.
Because it doesn’t.
She barely opened her mouth to speak when Tzuyu broke the fantasy.
“Shall we go?”
Chaeyoung finally blinked and straightened her back – she didn’t even realize she had leaned forward. “Y-yes. Those paints are not going to mix themselves.”
Tzuyu giggled and got up, offering a hand. The artist hesitated for a moment, then grinned and took her hand, getting up.
They’ve spent nine days together; it was the first time their hands touched.
Soft, was the first thing Chaeyoung thought.
And then,
I want to touch her again.
--
It was already dark when they parted ways. Tzuyu had been so patient, sitting on that chair for God knows how long, and Chaeyoung felt extremely guilty because she was stalling. At that point, she should’ve been finished with the painting. She should’ve been finished with her job, she should’ve been taking another client, but—
But she didn’t want to stop stealing looks at Tzuyu. And the model wouldn’t stop smiling back every time she did.
It just made everything so much harder.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Tzuyu asked tentatively as Chaeyoung was about to walk out of the door.
“I’ll be here,” The painter’s heart fluttered at the thought that Tzuyu wanted her there as much as she wanted to come over. “Same time?”
“Sounds perfect.”
There was a pause and Chaeyoung opened her mouth to say something. There were so many things going through her head; she wanted to ask Tzuyu about the sadness etched deeply into her heart, but most of all, she wanted to confess that she was lying. That she didn’t need to come again because the portrait was finished, and that the only reason she was still seeing her everyday was because she wanted to spend time chatting and getting to know her better.
She wanted to know everything about Tzuyu.
But eventually, all that came out was, “Goodbye, then.” Then she started walking away.
Stupid, stupid, stu—
“Chaeyoung.”
The painter froze, turning back. No ‘Miss Chaeyoung’ either; just her name, simply and purely. It sounded like an orchestral piece at the tip of Tzuyu’s tongue.
“Yes?” She barely managed to ask, given her beating heart.
“Thank you for coming.” The tall, beautiful girl blushed and bit her lip.
Chaeyoung didn’t know what to say to that. She had thanked her already; she didn’t need to thank her again. Was she thanking her for something else? Or was she just really polite? Perhaps it was an automatic response for every time someone visited her house. ‘Thank you for your time’. Sounded like a plausible reason for it. ‘Thank you for taking the time to come here.’ ‘Thank you for bringing your heavy materials to my house every day.’
‘Thank you for spending time with me.’
Oh.
She wanted to spend a little more time with me.
Son Chaeyoung, you fool.
With a sudden surge of bravery, Chaeyoung took a step forward.
“You know, I just remembered, there is a really good café nearby,” Her entire body was shaking. “Would you… perhaps, like to, — I mean, after we’re done with tomorrow’s session – uh… only if it’s not a bother, of course! I wouldn’t want to impose— Because I’m sure you’re extremely busy, especially at this time of the year, right? So maybe another day would be better—”
Tzuyu looked stunned for a moment, then let out a breathy chuckle. “Chaeyoung.”
“Y-yes?”
“Ask me.”
It took her a moment to realize that nothing she’d said had made sense. Taking a deep breath, Chaeyoung tried again. “Would you like to grab a coffee tomorrow? With, um… me.”
She didn’t know what she expected, but nothing could’ve prepared her for Tzuyu actually accepting her invitation. “Okay.”
Chaeyoung stared at her for a while and finally couldn’t suppress a smile. “Okay.”
With her heart in the clouds and nothing else left to do to embarrass herself further, Chaeyoung bid her goodbye again, bowed, then finally walked away.
She tried not to think too much about what she’d just done.
But an artist couldn’t fool her heart for long.
It should be illegal, she thought, eyes closed, slow steps quickening, ribcage bursting. To fall so deeply, so fast.
--
And it was hard, Aphrodite thought
To see how much Mankind liked to hurt themselves
With lies
And cries
Aimed at their own hearts
--
[Chaeyoung, 9:39pm]: I made a mistake.
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 9:57pm]: oh no
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 9:57pm]: did you insult chou tzuyu
[Chaeyoung, 9:58pm]: Worse
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 9:58pm]: ???
[Chaeyoung, 9:59pm]: I think I’m going on a date with her
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 10:06pm]: …
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 10:06pm]: chaengie, darling
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 10:06pm]: light of my life
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 10:06pm]: my angel,
[Kim Dumb-hyun, 10:06pm]: what the FUCK
--
It took a few hours to explain to Dahyun what exactly had happened, and when she was done, she was exhausted.
Whatever was happening to her heart was exhausting.
And yet, she wanted all of it.
--
“It’s simple,” Chaeyoung whispered, sitting on the edge of her bed in the middle of the night, as she stared at the canvas. “It’s so simple.”
“What is?” She asked herself, once again dialoguing alone.
“The way you stare, the way your body is set ablaze when you’re with her.”
“Oh, that’s right…” She threw her head back, closing her eyes at the ceiling, licking her lips. “That’s how it is.”
A sigh, eyes opened. The room looked empty now with the weight of the realization; it was really scary to say it out loud, even if it was to herself alone in her own bedroom. “Say it.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Chaeyoung closed her trembling lips, lying down and burying her face in her pillow. “It makes everything so much more real.”
“It will be real regardless.”
She kept quiet then, the heavy silence filling her lungs with each intake of air. Everything inside her chest settled and Chaeyoung finally allowed a simple, barely audible sentence to come out of her mouth.
And only her dreams were allowed to hear it.
--
It felt like an ordinary day when Chaeyoung got to the mansion the next morning. Tzuyu greeted her like she usually did, they went to the studio and chatted for a while as Chaeyoung prepared her materials, and nothing different happened for the duration of an hour. It was getting harder to find blank spaces in the canvas to fill with meaningless details, and Chaeyoung was worried that she would have to finally admit that her work was done.
But that could wait until after their coffee.
“I think a break is in order,” Chaeyoung offered after a while, peeking at Tzuyu, and her heart nearly stopped when their eyes met. The model was looking at her with such fondness in her stare that she felt her stomach flip.
“I think so too.” Tzuyu answered after a pause, getting up. “I just need to change. Wait for me in the garden?”
“Yes ma’am.” Despite her beating heart, Chaeyoung shot her a toothy grin.
It didn’t take long, and Tzuyu returned wearing a casual white shirt and black jeans, matching with a hat and white mask adorning her face from the nose down. Chaeyoung tilted her head sideways confused.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to wear this,” Tzuyu told her, removing the mask for a second. “I don’t want people recognizing me on the streets and crowding up on you.”
She could’ve said ‘crowding up on me’, but worried about Chaeyoung, instead.
She’s so kind.
“Oh, I understand,” Chaeyoung said, getting up, then scratched the back of her neck. “Um… are you sure you want to go? I haven’t thought about the whole ‘getting recognized on the streets’ thing. It sounds like a burden.”
“Yes, I do want to go grab a coffee with you.” Tzuyu rolled her eyes playfully, putting the mask back on. “It’s not like I never leave my home, you know?”
Chaeyoung chuckled at that. “Fair enough.”
Once out of the mansion, Chaeyoung kept looking sideways, very aware of the fact that she was walking with Chou Tzuyu by her side. Sure, a barefaced, pretty-much-hidden-from-the-world Chou Tzuyu, but an international idol nonetheless. She had to admit that it was suffocating imagining hidden cameras and strangers following her every move, and Chaeyoung stole a glance at Tzuyu with this thought in mind.
Is this how she feels everyday of her life?
No one should get used to living with this paranoia.
And on cue, Chaeyoung felt her arm being enveloped by another. It took her half a second to realize that Tzuyu had linked arms with her.
“Is this okay?” Tzuyu murmured lowly.
Chaeyoung could feel the uneasiness in her voice and something snapped. This shy, introverted woman was thrown to the wolves everyday of her life, stared down and judged by which brand of clothes she wore, and targeted by hate comments of strangers on the internet who knew nothing about her. Those people didn’t know that she liked to bake muffins, didn’t know how much silly games made her laugh, and weren’t aware of how beautiful and vulnerable her soul was.
Chaeyoung loosened their grip and slid her hand through the length of Tzuyu’s arm, reaching her palm and intertwining their fingers. She tightened the grip when Tzuyu widened her eyes and smiled at her. “It’s okay.”
She thought she saw Tzuyu’s eyes glazing over, and rubbed her thumb on the model’s knuckles. “Let’s go, they have double caramel shots today.”
Tzuyu’s laugh was Chaeyoung’s favorite sound in the world.
--
Thankfully no one recognized them, and Tzuyu managed to drink in peace. She ordered a plain hot chocolate with whipped cream and Chaeyoung chuckled.
“What?” Tzuyu asked, interrupting her drink.
“You ordered such a simple drink,” Chaeyoung teased. “And here I am with my Iced Vanilla Latte with Soy Milk and Double Caramel Shots.”
“Well, excuse me for enjoying the simple things in life.” Tzuyu pouted, resuming her beverage and Chaeyoung stared at her dumbly before shrugging.
“It’s cute.”
Tiny specks of dust floated in the air slowly against the sunlight and Tzuyu smiled with her eyes over her cup of hot chocolate, but didn’t say anything.
It really is nice, being together like this, Chaeyoung thought.
--
After chatting for a long, long time, Chaeyoung realized that maybe their date hadn’t been that exciting. Well, she did offer to just grab a coffee; it’s not like she was tricking Tzuyu into thinking she had other plans hidden up her sleeve. Still, it seemed like such a waste to end the day there. The afternoon sky was so clear and nice – warm but not as hot as other days. The soft light touched Chaeyoung’s skin once they exited the café and she sighed internally.
“Say,” Tzuyu spoke up after a silent pause. “Can I show you a place I like?”
That question didn’t even need to be asked. “Of course.”
She reached for the tiny painter’s hand again, but instead of walking calmly through the street, Tzuyu gave her a smirk, then ran off, pulling her along. Chaeyoung wasn’t expecting that at all, but she would be lying if she said that the thrill didn’t make her feel good. She laughed the whole way.
Eventually, they arrived at a park, and Tzuyu let go of Chaeyoung’s hand. She took an unusual path between the trees and bushes, and for a moment Chaeyoung could pretend they were going to end up in a different dimension altogether. After a few climbs and some leaves getting stuck in her hair, they arrived at a clearing. Tzuyu was sitting down by the time Chaeyoung managed to catch up, and she patted the patch of grass beside her.
“Over here.”
They sat side by side, and Chaeyoung couldn’t stop smiling, eyeing the place. There was nothing extraordinary about it, but somehow it still felt magical; the sun shone through the leaves, and the shadows danced over them.
“Is this the place the fairies gather to dance under the moonlight?” Chaeyoung couldn’t help but to joke, and Tzuyu’s laugh made her heart soar.
“I’m sure they do.”
The breeze flowed through their locks and Chaeyoung closed her eyes, feeling everything – the grass tickling her palms, the smell of flowers, the sound of rustling leaves. She wanted to write something; it was the perfect opportunity to do so. But right now, enjoying Tzuyu’s company was the most important thing.
“The painting is a gift to my grandfather.” The sentence was sudden, and it made Chaeyoung open her eyes and turn to her.
“Oh.”
Something told her to brace herself.
“He’s really sick. And he doesn’t remember me anymore,” Tzuyu picked at the grass under her feet, slowly. “He was an amazing painter, too, before his illness. For some reason, part of his brain retains all the memories from his portraits. So, one day, I had this idea.”
Tzuyu faced her, and Chaeyoung finally realized what that sadness in her eyes meant.
“I thought that if I got a painting of myself and showed it to him, he might remember who I am. Just one last time,” She rubbed her eyes strongly, as if pushing back tears unshed. “Silly, right?”
They stared at each other for an eternity, and Chaeyoung felt frozen. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words would come out; it was one of those situations where there was absolutely nothing to say that would fix things.
Noticing the heavy atmosphere, Tzuyu chuckled weakly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down. I just wanted to tell you why I ordered that portrait.”
Maybe words couldn’t help, but actions could.
Chaeyoung put an arm around Tzuyu’s shoulder and pulled her close. The model widened her eyes and blinked, shocked for a second at the sudden gesture, but eventually allowed her tense body to relax. She grabbed a fistful of Chaeyoung’s shirt and turned her face fully, until she was nuzzling the crook of her neck. They stood like that for a while; then Chaeyoung felt wetness against her skin.
“I need to confess something,” Chaeyoung muttered through the lump in her throat. “The painting’s been done for a while, now. I was just stalling because I wanted to keep coming over to talk to you.” She brought one hand to Tzuyu’s hair and buried her face there. “I’m sorry.”
“I knew.”
Chaeyoung stopped. “You… knew?”
Tzuyu lifted her head, wiping her cheeks. “Grandpa never took this long with his portraits. I figured you were done,” She managed a shy smile, then. “I just pretended I didn’t know because I wanted you to keep coming over.”
Their faces were really close, and Chaeyoung could hear her heartbeat in her eardrums. Her gaze flickered towards Tzuyu’s lips for a second, then back to her eyes, and she wanted to hug her again. She smiled. “So, I guess we’re both really good at hiding things…?”
Tzuyu laughed at the innocent statement, and leaned forward, touching foreheads with the girl. She pulled back after taking a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “I believe my grandpa will keep painting, even after he’s passed. He loved it so much.”
It made Chaeyoung’s heart ache, because she could relate. She didn’t believe in heaven, but she knew that no matter what, art would find its way to her again, somehow. She held Tzuyu’s hand again and felt the grip tightening.
“He loves you, too.
Tzuyu let a tear fall.
--
Chaeyoung gave her the completed painting after they returned to the mansion, and Tzuyu thanked her with a lingering hug, and a kiss to her cheek. Chaeyoung’s heart did a somersault, and she smiled widely.
She hoped her grandfather would enjoy the beautiful portrait.
--
Chaeyoung didn’t receive Tzuyu’s call after that, so she didn’t visit the next day.
Or the next.
Or the next.
On the fourth day without news, she decided to call her, worried.
A maid picked up the phone, and simply told her that Chou Tzuyu wouldn’t be available for the next weeks, due to the passing of a dear family member. Chaeyoung wasn’t even able to tell the woman her name before she hung up.
She felt her chest compressing, nearly bursting with pain.
She wanted to be there for her.
She wanted to hold her, and whisper sweet nothings into her ear.
But who was she?
Just some artist employed for a brief period of time.
The thought made Chaeyoung’s stomach sink, and she lied down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her head kept reminiscing the nice days they’d spent together, and she realized that those had been nothing at all compared to the rest of her life.
They’ve been together for hardly two weeks.
So why did it feel like her whole life had slipped away from her fingers?
Aphrodite was too powerful for her own good.
--
Chaeyoung liked Autumn. It made her creative juices flow, and the brownish color of the leaves were beautiful against the soft evening sky. The cold was beginning to get to her, so she had to leave the house wearing the biggest trench coat she could find – a gift from Dahyun after her latest job.
She didn’t like to think much about it. It still hurt.
“Good morning, Mr. Park,” She greeted the owner of the newspaper stand near her house, and the old man bowed with a soft smile. Chaeyoung stopped in front of a magazine rack, running her eyes through the newest released covers. As usual, she didn’t find what she was looking for, and brought her scarf closer to her red nose.
“When did you start liking tabloids so much?” Mr. Park rarely talked to her, but her curious behavior lately caught his attention, so he had to ask.
“Oh, you know,” Chaeyoung let out a breathy laugh. “I thought it was time to see what drama famous people got into. It’s a nice distraction.”
“But you never buy any.” He didn’t look convinced.
Chaeyoung felt a little bad, but she wasn’t about to spend actual money on a tabloid. If what she was looking for suddenly showed up, it would definitely be on the front page. “I have no money.”
“That’s a lie,” Mr. Park stopped sweeping the leaves off the front of his stand. “You have a job.”
Chaeyoung laughed, putting her hands in her pockets and walking away. “There haven’t been any demands as of late, so…”
“Next time buy something.” He sounded like a grumpy old man, but he cared. Chaeyoung agreed, and waved him goodbye, walking down the street.
She made her way downtown slowly and nonchalantly, trying to fool herself. The dogs barking in the distance painted a picturesque scene, and Chaeyoung wondered if she should sit on a bench and watch people walk by, without a care in the world. She couldn’t do that, however. There was a place she needed to go, and even after a month, her heart still picked up speed when she approached it.
Turning a corner, she finally saw the café in the distance. Chaeyoung stopped on her tracks for a split second, then forced her legs to move again.
Maybe today.
She’d been hoping for thirty-one days. She wondered for how long her heart could take it.
It didn’t surprise her when she realized that she could go on forever.
Entering the place, her body immediately felt the comforting heat, and she shed her coat. There wasn’t a line, so she ordered quickly.
“An Iced Vanilla Latte with Soy Milk and Double Caramel Shots, please.”
The drink took a while to get ready, then she grabbed it, sitting on the same table she’d been sitting every day. Some of the baristas shot her a smile when they passed by, acknowledging her familiar presence. Chaeyoung was already a regular by this point.
She drank the iced latte, letting her eyes roam the place, looking for something.
Someone.
There was no one to see, however. With a small sigh, she placed her cup down, and took her notebook off her pocket. Chaeyoung ran through the pages, and admired her hard work with fondness, a tiny smile tucked on her lips.
She’d been drawing the same view for a month, and every day she sketched the same imaginary person sitting in front of her, wearing different outfits. Then, on the back of each drawing, she would write a daily poem – short and sweet, with not much meaning to it. She’d use her sketches as an excuse to stay there for hours without looking like a weird loner, and kept eyeing every person who walked in, hoping to see a familiar face.
With one last gulp of her drink, she started drawing.
People walked in and out, and time went by. Mothers, fathers, teenagers, old men and women all attended the place, but none of them were the one – at some point in the day, Chaeyoung stopped paying attention.
She was finishing detailing her latest sketch, when she heard a familiar order.
“A hot chocolate, please. With some whipped cream on top.”
Her heart stopped, and she lifted her head.
There, waiting in line, was a tall woman, wearing a casual coat, a beanie, and a white mask covering her mouth. Chaeyoung’s hand was so still that she let her pen drop; she jumped at the small noise and crouched to grab it again. When she returned to her position, the woman was gone.
“No. No, no, no,” Chaeyoung gathered her things in a haste and ran past the door. She paused, looking left, then right, finding the woman in the distance crossing the street. She ran towards her with everything she had, putting her sketchbook in her pocket somehow, and nearly bumping into a police officer.
“Sorry!” She quickly apologized with a bow, then ran off again.
There were suddenly too many people in the way, and she felt like yelling at all of them. Finally managing to sneak past them, she crossed the street, breathing heavily, then turned around the corner. She thought she’d lost the woman again, but then found her walking with her hot chocolate in hands.
Chaeyoung walked faster; the woman sped up as well. She pressed forward, and the woman mimicked her, back turned, shoulders tense; after a few more attempts, it was clear that she was unmistakably trying to run away from Chaeyoung.
Chaeyoung thought about yelling her name, jumping and grabbing her coat, gently touching her forearm, anything, but faltered. The thought that she didn’t want to see her ever again hurt more than anything ever had. After turning one last corner, Chaeyoung slowed down, feeling absolutely defeated.
She stopped completely and watched as the woman kept walking. There were thorns inside her chest, and they burned with venom. Chaeyoung ducked her head in shame, a single tear falling down her cheek. She was so stupid. Why was she even waiting for her, all this time? She clearly didn’t want anything else to do with a simple painter who had lied to her.
Chaeyoung shouldn’t be chasing her.
She lifted her head again, then almost gasped.
The woman was standing still too, farther away. None of them moved for a moment, then Chaeyoung hesitantly stepped forward. The woman did the same. She stepped again, and once again, her movement was mirrored. It didn’t take a genius to realize that the woman wanted her to keep following.
So Chaeyoung did.
She would follow her anywhere, for the rest of her life if she had to.
The path was familiar at that point, with the twisted trees and beautifully trimmed bushes adorning the sidewalk, and it didn’t take long for Chaeyoung to make out the mansion in the distance.
She only genuinely stopped walking when she reached the gates.
The woman was already inside, almost at the door, and they were both frozen in time. There was a silent moment, filled with unspoken words and feelings, and Chaeyoung decided to stop being a coward for once in her life.
“It’s a beautiful mansion. A girl I know lives here.”
No one moved.
“She’s really nice, and her beauty is out of this world. But she has many sides to her, that I don’t think many people know about.”
Chaeyoung took a step forward.
“She likes silly word games, and baking muffins, and visiting parks. Her voice is soothing, and I kinda wished I had asked her to sing me something, at some point.”
Another step.
“She doesn’t know how to order drinks in cafés, though. I taught her once, but I don’t think she was very fond of it. Oh, she likes paintings, too. I made a portrait of her.”
One more.
“It was really big, almost her size. I used various colors and fancy techniques, because I wanted it to be perfect.”
One last step, and she finally reached her.
“But the portrait didn’t make her justice. I didn’t tell her back then, because I was an idiot, but it really didn’t capture her essence. Nothing in this world ever could. That was one of the lies I told her.”
Tzuyu put her hot chocolate down, without turning around. “What was the other?”
That voice. Chaeyoung ached to hear it again, and it didn’t feel real. With one brave gesture, she pressed her forehead against Tzuyu’s shoulder, inhaling the scent she learned to appreciate so much, and closed her eyes.
“The other lie, was that I told her I kept stalling because I wanted to keep coming over to talk to her,” She let out a shaky breath, nearly breaking down. “When in reality, that was an oversimplification. I kept stalling because I fell in love with her. And I never wanted to stop seeing her.”
It happened too fast. Chaeyoung felt the shoulder turning around, so she lifted her head, and was finally faced with Tzuyu’s breathtaking face, after a month without seeing her – touching her, being with her. She was pulled into a hug, and grasped Tzuyu’s coat like it was her lifeline; it kind of was, in a way. All she could think about for the past month was Chou Tzuyu.
It was like reaching the surface and gasping for air after a long time in the cold, deep darkness. Chaeyoung felt the tears hitting her face immediately, and she could tell Tzuyu was crying, too. They hugged each other tightly, and Chaeyoung held the back of Tzuyu’s head, fingers in her hair and nose buried into her collarbones.
“I’m sorry,” Tzuyu’s muffled voice was met with a sob. “I’m so sorry, Chaeyoung…”
“It’s okay. We’re okay.” She smiled despite the tears, sighing heavily. “I’m here. I got you.”
They stood there in the porch for minutes, just clinging to each other. Eventually, Tzuyu let her go, and grabbed her hand so they could come inside.
Chaeyoung’s heart melted at the touch of her hand.
They hardly made it to the living room before Tzuyu pulled her down on the couch with her. Chaeyoung’s already beating heart got out of control as they lied together, facing each other. Tzuyu gently brushed a strand of hair from Chaeyoung’s face, then cupped her cheek, a fond stare piercing her very core. Chaeyoung waited for her to speak.
“I missed you so much,” Tzuyu muttered, her thumb caressing the girl’s skin. Chaeyoung could cry.
“I missed you, too.”
There was nothing to be said after a long moment; they just looked at each other, burning their images into their very souls. Chaeyoung never wanted to leave that couch.
“My grandpa…” It was a hard topic, and Tzuyu was clearly still struggling.
Chaeyoung reached for the hand cupping her face, and placed a kiss to her knuckles, leaving her lips there. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”
“But I do want to. I need to tell you why I avoided you.”
“Okay, then. I’m listening.”
Tzuyu closed her eyes. “He… never got to see the painting. When I got to the hospital the next day, he was already comatose. Then he just… passed away a few hours later.”
Chaeyoung felt her eyes swelling with tears, but nodded for her to go on.
“I felt… broken. Defeated. Like all of your hard work had gone to waste because of my selfish desire to spend more time with you.”
“N-no, I was the one who—”
“And that’s why I avoided you,” Tzuyu opened her eyes again. “I knew you would blame yourself if I told you. And I couldn’t handle that, on top of everything. You were the only one in my life who was bringing me happiness, did you know that?”
She didn’t, so she shook her head, a small tear falling.
“I have many acquaintances, but no one cares about me, really. They care about my status, and photoshoots, and money. But you? You cared about me. I could feel it. And I didn’t want to lose that,” Tzuyu touched her cheek again, and smiled with her characteristic giggle despite everything. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
Chaeyoung looked at her, then at her lips. She wanted to tell her that this was impossible, and that she didn’t have to feel guilty about anything, and that she would stay by her side through hell and back if she asked her to, but words seemed incredibly weak in the face of what Chaeyoung truly felt.
So, she simply leaned forward and captured her lips. They stood still, mouths brushing gently, and Chaeyoung was about to pull back out of embarrassment when she felt Tzuyu’s hand at the back of her head.
They kissed again then, on the couch of a big living room, with dogs barking in the distance, and autumn leaves falling in the yard. It tasted like hot chocolate, and Chaeyoung thought that maybe she would be changing her order at the café, after all. They chased each other’s mouths every time they parted, sighing in relief, wrapped in an embrace.
Chaeyoung’s hand landed on Tzuyu’s waist, and she held her tightly. Tzuyu giggled against her lips after an awkward moment trying to adjust themselves in the small couch, which kind of broke the kiss. Chaeyoung didn’t care, though, and pecked her lips again, then her jaw, her cheeks and nose, finally burying her face on the taller girl’s chest.
“You’d never lose me,” She said, voice muffled by the coat. “An artist can be relentless when she’s in love.”
Tzuyu scratched the girl’s head, exhaling. She felt dizzy. “You’re in love with me.”
Chaeyoung lifted her head again, staring at her with a dumb smile. “Yeah… I really am.”
She wanted to believe her, but years of fame destroyed every concept she had of what true love meant, so she had to make sure. “I’m not perfect, you know. I have a really bad sense of humor, and I watch crappy movies. I don’t wear makeup around the house. I fart, too.”
Chaeyoung blinked, then laughed in disbelief. “Do you want me to fall more in love with you? Because somehow you’re managing to do that.”
Tzuyu blushed. This girl.
“I told you, didn’t I? Perfection exists, because it doesn’t,” Chaeyoung leaned forward to capture the girl’s lips again, in a slow and languid kiss. It became clear that this was going to be her favorite activity from now on. “And to me, you’re pretty damn perfect.”
They held each other until their hearts were fully mended, then fell asleep like that.
There were worse places to wake up than Tzuyu’s arms.
--
When Aphrodite came to Earth
She had only one mission
And she carried it out
Truly
Madly
Deeply
Perfectly
--
“Chaeyoungie,” Tzuyu spoke up suddenly as they watched a movie under the covers of Chaeyoung’s bed.
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
Chaeyoung had to remind herself to thank Dahyun, later.
After kissing her girlfriend for the rest of the night.