Work Text:
Jessica would look at her like she always would, and she'd hug her and kiss her on the cheeks like any other friend would.
Through idol training, high school, their group's debut, and even these days when their schedules—both solo and group—were full and hectic, her words would always be, “I could never have made it without you.” Don't.
After secrets were shared and words of promises exchanged that they be kept, or when decisions were made and the outcome was unclear—her words would always be, “I trust you.” Don't.
When she would come running—her world in shambles from a serious, personal problem or even from just a small, trivial one—and her words would always be, “I need you.” Don't.
From whichever part of the world she had just been in, most often New York, she would come back—and her words would always be, “I missed you.” Don't.
After too many bottles of beer and all the joking had stopped with everyone passed out on the floor, her words—drunken and slurred—would always be, “I want you,” while giggling and passing out not long after. Don't.
At the end of the day, when work was done—a song recorded, a part of a choreography mastered, a photoshoot completed, a variety show filmed, or a performance done—and it was time to go home, her words would always be, “I love you,” as she would turn around to leave. Don't.
Because, at the end of the day, the fact was she was just a friend—only a friend, one of many—and Tiffany hated it the most.
Don't say you love me.
Don't hurt me.