Title: Puppy Fluff: YulTi Drabbles
Rating/Genre: PG, AU Fluff
Disclaimer: I don't own Soshi. I don't own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.
Summary: Three short stories: Kicks and Buses (581 w.); Sealed with a Chew (482 w.); Falling (491 w.)Author's Notes: Italian YulTi feels. ♥ Had fragmented fluffy ideas and thought to post them. I hope a special unniecorn enjoys these. :3
Tell me what y'all think, please! ^^
01. Kicks and Buses; 581 words
Upon their very first meeting, Tiffany’s eyes fell on Yuri’s shoes, of all things. Aged sneakers with dingy, loosely-tied red laces and no logo on the side. Definitely not brand name. In fact, Tiffany owned the true version of these knock-offs at home.
It made her feel like a snob, but what else could one expect when riding on the bus for the first time? Public transit would carry people of lower financial standing. However, the musty smell, squabbling elders, and stomach-upsetting stop-and-start motions paled in comparison to this girl’s shoes. Slightly yellowed and curled at the toe. They deserved the nearest trashcan, if she had any say.
Tiffany blinked away--suddenly interested in the darkness outside the window--as the wearer looked up from her worn textbook.
“Do you have the time?” she asked, shutting the book with a soft snap. Applied Biology.
Dirty shoes, hand-me-down books, and apparently no cell phone. All deviations from Tiffany’s regular crowd. Tiffany flicked at her iPhone screen, refusing all eye contact as she mumbled, “7:34.”
“Huh. Little delayed today.”
Tiffany shrugged a shoulder.
“What brings you on the bus tonight?”
Taken back by the pleasant voice, Tiffany turned her head slightly. The girl was quite pretty. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve never seen you before.”
“Do you live on the bus or—” Tiffany cut her sentence short. Maybe this girl did live on the bus.
What an asshole thing to say.
“Nahhhh.” She laughed. A raspy, genuine chuckle. “Kinda feels like it at times. I take this route every night. Evening classes and all…”
“I uh,” she started, crossing her legs. “I like your shoes.”
Panic tensed at the pit of her stomach. Had she been caught? “My shoes?”
“Yeah. I apologize for staring, but they’re really nice. Coach?”
Tiffany checked her feet, momentarily forgetting her own wardrobe. “Chanel.”
“They’re spotless. You must take crazy care of them.” She hooked a thumb into a shoestring and tugged. “I’ve had these babies for two years. My lucky shoes.”
The woman was even prettier now that she got a better view. “What makes them lucky?”
She focused on Tiffany’s eyes and continued, fussing with the dirty lace all the while. “You may have noticed, but they’re not the real deal. Some off-brand kicks I picked up at a department store.”
“And that makes them lucky how?”
She smirked and Tiffany couldn’t help but return it.
“Because of my adventures. I can run around the city. Smear sidewalk chalk, trot across fresh asphalt. Take random hikes in the park—really live life—without worries about ruining a pair of three hundred-dollar shoes.”
Tiffany felt like an asshole anyway. “Good point.”
“So, I ask again…” She released the string to twist at the ends of her jet black hair. “What brings you on the bus?”
She pursed her lips in thought, already comfortable with this stranger’s presence. “No reason. I saw that the route was quicker and…I wanted to try something different.”
“You wanted to get your shoes dirty, so to speak?”
Tiffany giggled through her fingertips. “You’re interesting.”
“Interesting…I like that.”
The talk fell off from that point. Tiffany thought up a non-weather-related conversation starter when the woman grabbed a rail to yank herself up.
“This is my stop. Same time tomorrow?”
Had this question been asked fifteen minutes earlier, she’d laugh right in her face. Instead, Tiffany studied the woman’s soft, expectant face. “Okay.”
“Coolio. I’m Yuri, by the way.”
“See you on our bus adventure tomorrow, Tiffany.”
02. Sealed with a Chew; 482 words
After the “honeymoon phase” of their dating wore off, Tiffany’s eyes were opened to Yuri’s less-than-bearable quirks. Biggest pet peeve? Her chewing.
A smacking pattern—chomp, chomp, smack, click, smack.
Tiffany tried to subtly drop hints with a sharp straightening of her throat or a tap at her girlfriend’s chin. Regardless, the pattern continued. She subconsciously began counting the seconds between smacks.
“Yul,” she groaned, seated on the circular living room rug. “Why do you do that?”
Yuri glanced up from her bowl of brown rice. “Do what?”
“Chew with your mouth open.”
She didn’t seem offended. Complacent, even. “Because it’s good.”
“Could you stop? It’s annoying.”
“It’s annoying for me to enjoy lunch?”
“Wouldn’t kill you to enjoy lunch quietly.”
“Can’t. It’s automatic.” She scooped omelet into her open mouth and continued her noisy meal.
Tiffany sighed and got back to the mental counting. Chomp, chomp, smack, click, smack. Maybe she’d get used to it.
Weeks later, they met Jessica Jung.
Tiffany was no fan of Jessica Jung.
She winked and baby-talked and clung to Yuri eons longer than necessary. Jessica’s hugs with Tiffany were quite the opposite. Noticeably brief and delicate, as if they’d scald each other from the hate-on-hate contact.
Tiffany almost raised hell when Yuri casually agreed to have dinner at Jessica’s villa. Apparently she’d gotten lessons from some Japanese culinary master and simply had to put them on display. Tiffany agreed to go, but only because it was a group event amongst mutual friends and she did not trust that woman.
That night, to Tiffany’s delight, didn’t end in a catfight. Besides a few comments (“Yul-oppa, you’re so handsome.” “Yul-oppa’s too polite.” She firmly informed Jessica that Yuri had a functioning vagina.), their energetic peers and virgin cocktails squashed any hard feelings.
The couple left all smiles. Tiffany had only a single iffy comment hanging from her lips as she started the car.
“You were quiet,” she commented, moving the gear shift.
“Are you kidding? I laughed until I choked.”
“No, I mean during dinner. You didn’t eat like a viking.”
“How could I?”
“You’re not making any sense. You were f—“
Yuri’s hand on her knee stopped the impending argument. “Fany. Everything that touched my tongue was disgusting. I have no clue how you stomached that crap.”
Tiffany shook her head. “Was it that bad? I didn’t eat much…”
“Jessica’s managed to ruin sushi for me. Eff those cooking lessons.”
She glimpsed at Yuri wincing from a guttural laugh. “That shut you up, eh?”
“I can eat your cooking any time, Fany. When I’m lovin’ my food, you’ll hear it.” With a final pat to her thigh, Yuri rested her head back and closed her eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be recovering from this traumatic experience. I might hug the toilet all night.”
From that moment, the smacking served as music to her proud ears.
03. Falling; 491 words
Spending a season with her sister in Hawaii had many perks, yet Tiffany couldn’t help but miss her favorite parts of Autumn—crisp, hoody weather, fresh apple cider, and the shedding trees.
Tiffany’s inner 7-year-old burst out the seams when she’d jet through piles of multicolored leaves, arms flailing. Yuri loved this. She carried around her Canon DSLR to capture the magic of such occasions. Tiffany would threaten bodily harm for every suggestion to upload the shots to the internet, titled, “Preshest Girlfriend Ever.”
The lush evergreen environment encompassing her brother-in-law’s condo was breathtaking. Still, it lacked that little slice of childish heaven.
Their daily calls made the underlying disappointment more and more apparent.
Yuri’s greeting drained of enthusiasm after Tiffany answered the phone. “You sound down.”
“Hello to you, too.”
No use hiding something so harmless. “I miss you. And Autumn.”
“We’ll see each other soon, all right? We have many Falls ahead of us!”
She sighed, gazing out the window. “That’s true..”
Yuri changed the subject to more upbeat topics: breakdancing robots and kittens in tutus. Tiffany appreciated the effort, so she played along. Sulky phone calls wouldn’t bring her girlfriend closer anyway.
Several days later, her sister called her downstairs. Her confused tone had Tiffany sprinting to the stairwell. Once she approached the front room, she stopped in her tracks. A box nearly her height took up the majority of the floor.
“What the hell is this?” her sister questioned, tapping the cardboard.
Tiffany hurriedly read the special message scribbled under the address in handwriting she learned to love:
‘Couldn’t send myself, so I sent Fall instead. OPEN OUTSIDE.’
Tiffany didn’t heed that disclaimer. Her heart raced while she clawed at the tape and undid the flaps to behold tons of brightly hued leaves filling the box to the brim. Sparing no warning to her sister, she jumped right in. The closest edge ripped from her impact, spraying crunchy foliage everywhere.
Her sister’s OCD-laden meltdown faded into background noise as Tiffany rolled face-first into the largest stack. Nature’s spiced, earthy perfume swept to her nostrils from every movement. She swore she smelled the faint tang of Yuri’s hair when she closed her eyes.
Tiffany patted the front of her Ramones t-shirt, adding more debris than not. Soon, the screen of her phone hovered above. Her lips pressed into its coyest smile before speaking to the blinking record light.
“Kwon Yuri, you romantic rascal. Who else can say their girlfriend sent a whole season across the world solely to put a smile on her face?”
She aimed a pointer finger to the camera lens. Aimed at Yuri.
“It’ll take me months to figure out a gift to top this one. I’m counting this as a challenge.”
Her hand fell to her side with a crackle. The playfulness in her tone dropped as well.
“Love you, babe.”
She blew a kiss to Korea.
“Go ahead. Post this online.”