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Mizi and Sua have been inseparable since childhood.
All it took was one hand, one smile, one look.
Mizi likes to remember when they were both children, back when their lives were easier, when the line wasn't so blurred, back before there even existed a line—before their relationship could even be defined, back when only they cared about their relationship.
But now they are older and meant to be wiser. Now, they are meant to follow through with their responsibilities; now, they are meant to abandon each other and pursue the happiness that is defined by society.
Mizi had always retched at the thought.
People have always asked her:
"When are you getting a boyfriend?"
"You're too pretty to be single!"
"Isn't it time to get a boyfriend? You won't be young forever!"
But all she's ever wanted was Sua.
But even Sua is held to these same standards, especially when they've naturally gravitated towards each other, like the pull of the north and south poles.
But when people see them together too often, they begin saying things.
"Y'know, the reason you can't get a boyfriend is because you're with her all the time!"
"You two are too close… Why would a man want a woman who's that close to her friend?"
"Are you guys…" and Mizi can almost hear the disgust seeping into the word, "lesbians…?"
Mizi wishes that they were actually together, but defining what they are—to her—would mean crossing a line that she can never uncross. She can never take that back—especially not if everything changes.
Ambiguity is what allows them to be as close as possible without ever crossing that line.
Mizi shakes herself from her thoughts.
Her chartreuse eyes follow Sua's slowly tilting head as she leans onto Mizi's shoulder. The blue light from the TV envelops their figures in the darkness. A thick brown blanket covers both of them. Sua tugs the blanket around her neck, shifting closer to Mizi.
None of them say a word, as if saying anything would somehow ruin the darkness that has hidden them from the pressure of the real world.
Mizi's hand comes naturally to Sua's head and she begins stroking her hair absentmindedly. Sua closes her eyes, as if Mizi's touch has soothed a part of her that nothing else could.
Friends.
That is all they are.
That is what they must remain.
But despite that, Mizi can't help but tease the line between friends and lovers.
Mizi's hand shifts from Sua's dark hair to her cheek, stroking her cold skin softly. Sua's eyes open slowly and she looks at Mizi, her amethyst eyes wide and almost incredulous. She sits up, bringing her body closer to Mizi before turning to look at her, both of them staring at each other, almost begging each other for permission.
Mizi inches closer, her eyes never once leaving Sua's.
She moves gently, as if she could break Sua—as if Sua is made of thin, delicate porcelain.
Warm flesh against Mizi's, the taste of Sua's lips, the feeling of her flesh molding against hers. She can't help but sigh into her mouth and Sua finds herself capturing Mizi's breath, like it is her own—like Mizi's breath is the oxygen she lives and breathes on.
It's been too long.
Mizi's hands slide against Sua's clothes, tugging at the hem of shirt and they break apart for one moment, both of them panting as they stare at each other. Sua's lips part softly and Mizi quickly pulls her pajama shirt off her before pulling her close and locking their lips again. Mizi pulls Sua on top of her, staring at her dazed eyes as her hands reach for the waistband of her pajama pants, pulling at the fabric gently.
They both stare at each other as the air freezes against their warm bodies.
Mizi opens her mouth, as if to say something, but before a word escapes, Sua swallows it fearfully. Her mouth swallows the soul of what Mizi is about to say, drowning her in helpless longing—words unsaid, a song unsung.
Mizi ignores the lump in her throat, screws her eyes shut, ignoring the vaguely salty tear that squeezes out from between her lashes. Her hands tighten against Sua's waist, gripping her in a way that could easily leave dark purple bruises on her pale skin and then, she pushes her down.
Sua's back makes a soft thump against the couch cushions. Her eyes are wide in surprise; it is something Mizi has never done before, but her frustration, the tension that tightens within her chest, it all comes spilling out like the incessantly rolling waves.
Words are lost between them. Not a single word is uttered, not even the words that Mizi had been saving—and by then, Sua had already swallowed them and rendered them useless to her own ears.
I love you, says the gentle beats of Mizi's heart.
The warmth of Sua's hands as she cups Mizi's face repeats those words to her, over and over again—words they may never say, words they may never hear.
Sua pulls Mizi's face towards her, bringing her mouth onto hers like the sudden crashing of waves against shore.
Over and over, their lips move against one another. Over and over, they warm each other; from skin to skin, flesh to flesh, heart to heart.
Mizi's hands slide over Sua's slight figure, dancing against her pale skin, gripping her like the body of a snake curling against its prey. She carefully tugs at the waistband of her pants again, pulling both her pants and her underwear off, leaving her clad in just her plain white bra.
Mizi pulls back, her eyes tracing Sua's almost nude body; from her wide eyes to her flushed cheeks, her bitten lips to the rising to falling of her chest, the sparse trail of hair that starts just below her stomach to her trembling thighs that wring together in embarrassment.
Mizi has always loved Sua—has always wanted her.
She has always wanted to feel Sua against her, flesh to flesh, soul to soul.
Mizi trembles, staring at Sua's soft, almost pleading eyes and she whispers a single, rushed apology.
"I'm sorry."
Tears well from her eyes, drenching her cheeks and lashes in salty wetness. Sua quickly gets up, putting back on her pants and she reaches towards Mizi grabbing her warmth like she is a lifeline. Sua wraps her small body around Mizi's, as if her fragility could shield Mizi from anything—as if she wouldn't be the first to break.
"It's okay," Sua whispers.
And then she repeats it again, over and over, like a ritual, like she is reassuring not just Mizi, but herself.
Mizi tightens within Sua's grasp before reaching her arms around her, letting her tears spill from her lashes, letting her soft cries escape her in shallow sobs. She reminds herself over and over again.
Sua is here.
(For now.)
Sua is hers.
(But for how much longer?)
Sua will never leave her.
(Bu—)
Mizi's lips crash against Sua's, rough, unmediated, uncontrolled. Sua tenses at this for a second before softening against Mizi's body. Mizi drowns her incessant thoughts in the taste of Sua's lips, in the feeling of her body against her own, coaxing the tendons of her hands, dancing up the skin of her arms.
Please don't leave me.
Mizi's salty tears mix with the taste of Sua's saliva and she drinks in the taste of her and Sua mixing together, becoming one.
The TV screen fades to black.
The episode has ended.
They pull apart reluctantly and Mizi looks at Sua longingly, her eyes blazing desperately.
Stay with me.
Sua presses a soft kiss to Mizi's lips before turning off the TV, resting her small body against the rising and falling of Mizi's chest, sinking into her trembling embrace.