Archive of Our Own

deckerinnerung

• a cover memory, Freud called it: the mind's small mercy of remembering something harmless so it need not remember the thing beneath it.

i'm outside.

minjeong read it twice as she stood in the corridor of the university building with her bag half-fastened, hair still damp from the morning. she read it another time, thrice now, excitement budding between the cages of her chest.

jimin. yu ji-min. three syllables—two syllables after the first. you're supposed to say it with carefulness, like a prayer. ji—a sigh. min, a consonant in reprieve and gentleness. a small name that tasted sugary and sweet. she whispers it, rolls it slowly with her tongue. minjeong had said it to herself more times than she could count. jimin, her beloved sister, was finally outside, waiting.

oh, how she had missed her.

a flood of memories surged in her head, montages flashing behind her eyes, the nostalgic smell of the past infiltrating her senses.

jimin. jimin-ie. jiminie.

she smiles at the thought of her waiting outside, in her usual attire. what does she look like now, she wonders. she had received postcards, selcas. even letters. a thousandth time and one she had imagined an even more popular version of her sister—casually standing with friends under her warm, gentle arms, keeping them close by their shoulders with a cheeky grin on her face.

but the real thing, in person, was a different kind. it transcends the limit of colors, and lenses and digital screens. in a kantian sense, sublime is what she is or rather, sublime in the making. even more so that's it's jimin and her pretty, and boyish cool swag, and the attractive expanse of her long neck that she had always found comforting.

due to unavoidable circumstances, separation was necessary. jimin had to leave for college, minjeong, to her own endeavors and education. and time had not helped but only worsened the split, warped the distance into a seemingly bottomless vortex.

but alas, in a minute, that same distance will finally shrink—much to her delight.

she'll see her again.

leaping with joy and anticipation, she almost skipped the steps, running and running faster as she reached the stairs, leaving her dignity behind.

by the time she pushed through the glass doors, the afternoon light hit her. she basked in it, a postponed bliss, biting her lips. it was late spring in korea, and the sun just happened to provide the warmth she had been seeking for a while. around her, students dispersed across wide paths, the lush green of the trees at the perimeter catching the light in trembling pieces, the air carrying the faint sweetness from the trees and flowers surrounding the campus.

she walked, or rather skipped, eyes wandering, looking and looking, elated with eyes glinting and sparkling.

and then, she saw her.

jimin. her jimin, was leaning against a sleek, black car, one arm resting along the roof, the other loose at her side.

cool jiminie. cool, cool. (minjeong's heart leaped by a mile at this.)

she studied jimin and like always, she knew how to dress well. black slacks pressed to a clean line, a white polo shirt open at the collar, and a baseball cap pulled low enough to shadow her eyes without hiding them entirely. and her hair—so silky and heavy, up in a low bun, loose enough that a few strands had escaped to fall soft against her jaw and the side of her neck.

her feet slowed down on its own accord, taking it all in.

she had not seen her in almost five years in person and yet, she looked more familiar than anything else in the world. nothing really had changed much. she was still the same jimin, just more polished and attractive.

and she looked so good. insanely, effortlessly so. as her sister, minjeong almost felt embarrassed to have such a cool unnie compared to herself. her meek and delicate stature. she's pretty herself too—but she considers herself subpar, mid. and she looks weak. always looking like she always needed someone like jimin, someone stronger, to live and survive this world full of jagged beasts, monstrous, plundering men who exploits, with mouths that spout false adoration, pouring sweet poisons into the likes of her.

jimin really was god-sent. her saintly protector who stood between her and harsh glare of the world.

her eyes remained fixed on jimin the whole time and time, trickling and moving on its own, just flew by. a minute. then two. she didn't care. she was waiting for jimin to notice her too. she wanted her sister to know that she's here without being too eager, no.

how will she react after seeing minjeong now? she wonders. always the little one, her dongsaeng, the girl she had raised in all but name, watching over her through rain or heat, and whatever else the day had decided to offer.

jimin used to tell her that she would grow into a beauty, that adulthood would suit her most. pretty in a sense that makes people pause and look twice. though jimin would also say, she'd loved her most then, at fifteen. when she was all soft cheeks and young sweetness, the compliment of the now in the past an eternal melody that never left her even in her twenties.

so she stares at her sister. she waited, and waited, and waited. she had already waited for five years. already asked so much of her patience. what were a few more minutes, then, spent merely admiring her?

after what seemed like eternity, jimin eventually looked up and her face changed as she had expected. the hand holding her phone went still, cap lifting slightly as she straightened her slouching posture. and then she smiled. a smile that looked so effortless, so easy, all warmth and brightness as though kindness had taken human shape.

her cheeks flooded hot. it felt too intimate that a helpless bloom of feeling spread through her so quickly, stealing her breath. along with it was the knot in her chest loosening before she could even stop it, discovering how little one can prepare for tenderness when it returns wearing a beloved face.

finally.

she immediately crossed the path and the distance between them grew shorter and shorter, with her white summer dress catching the light, hem settling a little above her knee with each step, the afternoon air lifting briefly at the fabric's edges. as she had skipped and jumped her way, her bag swung at her shoulder and her face was a painting of excitement and delight. she was smiling already. couldn't help not to.

"hey, you." jimin said and oh, her voice got a little lower there. darker, and richer. of course it did.

years of absence, of prolonged distance. she's not even surprised that some things had changed. for the better, that is.

"hi unnie," minjeong said, smiling brightly, teeth showing, eyes crinkling.

jimin looked at her for a moment, head tilting slightly to the side before reaching out, setting her hand on top of minjeong's head, giving her a gentle pat. the hand stayed there for a long while, rubbing it so tenderly, the warmth of such an act spreading from her ginger hair through her scalp.

and minjeong couldn't help but lean into it before she could think not to.

she had missed her so much. though it lasted only for a few minutes, she remembered jimin doing this a lot when they were younger. when she had done a good job, a perfect score on a quiz, or finished her meal without any crumbs.

to her surprise, fully expecting the latter to usher her inside the car, jimin rather opened her arms, catching her off guard, engulfing her in a warm hug and minjeong, who had been so desperate for such fondness, heated with ardent affection, stepped closer, letting herself be consumed.

a snug fit. they had belonged to each other. that's set in stone alright.

their bodies still had not forgotten the shape of each other though her own mind almost did, a sickening affliction, betrayal against her own will. she had almost forgotten, somehow, how tall jimin was, too. failed to prepare herself for it again, of how her own face came only to her unnie's shoulder that she had to tilt slightly into her to make the hug feel complete, and so that jimin's chin could also rest above her head without effort if she chose to let it.

she had grown, even taller than the last time she had seen her.

or perhaps, minjeong had simply not been standing close enough in a long time to remember what close actually felt like.

she leaned into her further with tender animosity. her unnie had smelled fruity of course, something of a fruity scent, but womanly, if that made sense. a mature woman in her twenties who knows what she wants and minjeong, so unapologetic about this, had only pressed herself into her for a second longer.

jimin seemed pleased about this as her arms only tightened briefly around her before gently releasing her tiny body.

she pulled back just far enough to have a proper look at her, and her eyes moved over minjeong's face, catching briefly on her ginger hair.

"you look good."

minjeong only shook her head, looking down. shyness. creeping in uninvited, tainting her cheeks pink. she bit her lips, and like the old times, it made her feel like a teenager again. barely experienced, averse to compliments. "you're one to talk, unnie."

"no," then, a feather-light brush against her chin, nudging her gaze upward to surrender to her unnie's eyes. "i'm serious."

but she also was, wasn't she? jimin was sculpted to perfection by the gods, for god's sake.

"you're still such a flirt, unnie."

and jimin, forever gentle and kind, laughed. softly, like she always did as they played by the lake years back. she then reached up, tucking one of the loose strands of hair behind minjeong's ear. a gesture so small and natural, it happened even before minjeong could feel it coming.

she felt giddy and all over the place. similar to how she had felt when she first met her.

she was eight then, and jimin, nine.

minjeong had always wanted an older sister and jimin just happened to arrive on time. not by blood, but a step-sister she became.

the first time she saw her, minjeong knew, and had decided on the spot to love her.

contrary to the over-the-top dramas, tv shows, soap operas—they adored each other.

they had been inseparable immediately upon their first meet; jimin by the cusp of her biological father's arm, minjeong by her mother's. there was an attempt at a formal introduction, but minjeong remembers being too distracted by the many funny faces jimin had been doing as they ate at the dining table as a family. her mom and step-father talking about adult stuff she could barely understand while jimin and minjeong sat beside each other, mum and quiet at first.

but not until jimin had let out a fart so loud, breaking the awkwardness between them two.

if she remembered correctly, jimin got an earful from her father because of how unlady-like it was. but jimin seemingly didn't mind at all. because jimin and the adorable goof that she was back then, had her head turned to the side, facing minjeong, puckering her lips in a whimsical parody of the scolding itself.

minjeong found herself holding back her laughter too.

pretty sure, it only took that, another glance, and a smile from the older girl that made things click into place—she remembers having her tiny little hand wrapped around jimin's pinky before the night ended, sealing their fate.

the days and summers after that night, they became tangled with each other's little worlds; sharing a bedroom by choice long after the guest rooms were furnished, limbs constantly tangled on the living room rug like sleeping puppies.

(jimin had always teased minjeong about looking too much like a puppy herself).

had always spent time together by the lake behind their old house. she remembers the sprinklers in the garden during the hottest weeks of summer, water spinning down in cold, bright needles.

minjeong, always in full cotton skirts, white and yellow, sometimes soft pink. in puffed sleeves, pleats and frills at the hem that darkened and clung when she ran barefoot through the muddy grass near the boat dock—said act also painting her foor brown. even now, it had all been so vivid that she could still feel the weight of the wet fabric against her legs.

and jimin. always the taller one since then, towering over her. looking out for her. hands on her waist, caressing and holding. eyebrows furrowed yet mouth stretched to a wide grin. she had always looked at her with such adoration that asked for nothing in return and minjeong couldn't be more overjoyed with the fact.

she really was glad to have met her.

her sister. step-sister.

their parents—her love for them had not diminished, no. it's just that jimin. her unnie, had touched something in her. within her. because she understood her best. even as they grew older, taller, and all the more wiser.

and besides, the adults were present only as shape and safety.

jimin became more than that.

the children were the world, and they were each other's.

but don't get her wrong. sometimes, their parents still watched from the bay, silhouettes in the distance, talking quietly among themselves while the two of them invented whole kingdoms out of reeds and stones and the blue-shimmering lie of summer.

when they're together, the world seemed to shrink, fade away in the background. minjeong would only see jimin, her tall and larger frame swallowing hers completely. how they would lie in the shade of the weeping willows, damp grass pressing against their backs, reading stories to one another from water-logged paperbacks and minjeong had always loved it when, while she's doing so, her long fingers would trace patterns on the back of minjeong's slightly bigger hand, their fingers intertwining so tightly that they seemed to share a single warmth.

jimin. jimin. jimin.

throughout her childhood, her teens, it was all filled with jimin. minjeong with jimin. never just minjeong. though there were of course, tiny, inexplicable gaps in some of her memories, moments where the film of her mind seem to flicker and skip due to it only being capable of holding certain memories, filtering the others and throwing them in a box, hiding them, forgotten and buried.

like how she vaguely remembered crying once by the dock. she could never really recall why. though she remembers jimin's narrowed look that same day and how a neighbor's boy had tried to join their game and the way jimin's grip on her hand tightened until it was almost so painful. she also remembers how she had mud at the seams of her summer dress then, and back drenched but for reasons she could not quite grasp anymore.

something's important about turning fifteen too, but she couldn't even remember why.

all her mind could chew out were some vague images from the summer of that year. minjeong, sometimes lying on her stomach, cheek pressed against the clover by the dock, watching a line of tiny ants navigate the ridges of a fallen twig near them or sometimes, with her back pressed against damp grass. and jimin, always by her side, lying so close, fingers gently smoothing a damp strand of hair from her forehead.

the usual.

well, it didn't matter anyway. she decides not to dig deeper. she had bigger problems than that. maybe it had been important because it was the year jimin had to leave home. memory is such a fickle thing, and she had accepted that a long time ago.

if she only knew when she was younger, she would've started a journal of her own.

but if it was with jimin, she could at least admit this much with certainty; that she had been happy, even if what remained mostly were fragments, glittering and incomplete. all that really mattered was minjeong had always, always, felt completely safe in her sister's presence.

jimin.

oh, yu jumin. her sister, her saintly guardian until her dying breath.

en route to their house by lake cheongpyeong in gapyeong, jimin drove the two of them in comfortable silence, her left hand firmly on the steering wheel.

minjeong had wanted to ask a lot of questions, but she figured later would be the best time. for now, she took all her time in the world to stare at her unnie as though she were still half a dream, still something the morning might revoke. she could hardly believe she was already here. her unnie. in the flesh.

without thinking—driven by childhood habit and longing—minjeong reached her left hand across the console, her delicate fingers finding jimin's free right hand before wrapping her whole hand snugly around her sister's pinky finger.

just like the old times. their once unspoken signal.

jimin's eyes on the other hand, flicked away from the road for a fraction of a second, meeting minjeong's doe-eyed ones. a smile creeping up at the corner of the older gitl's mouth. then slowly, jimin turned her palm, warm hand swallowing minjeong's. she squeezed, and minjeong, who had been yearning to be held, let out a happy sigh, cheek resting against the passenger seat as she watched her sister drive.

they drove like that for miles as the sun painted golden stripes across the dashboard.

halfway though, jimin let go of minjeong's hand, briefly evoking a tiny pang of disappointment from minjeong. she really thought it was the end of it, that she'd need her hand for something else, or maybe she wasn't as fond of skinship anymore as she used to when they were young.

a couple minutes had passed, and then a sigh from her left.

but jimin's right hand descended once again. her palm, sweaty against the summer heat, rested flat on the exposed fair skin of minjeong's thigh just where the hem of the dress she's wearing had ridden up. for a second, the hand merely hovered, soaking in the heat.

(and minjeong gasped at this, did not expect her unnie to be so bold. but this must be normal, correct? she should've done this before already. she's had such tiny figment for a brain, she could not remember clearly but she must've done that a lot. and so, she lets it be.)

then, jimin grabbed a firm handful of her thigh, strong fingers squeezing the soft flesh.

"u-unnie!" minjeong gasped, cheeks burning a furious pink. flabbergasted, she turns to her sister, but the girl wasn't even looking at her; her eyes was fixed on the highway though a smirk began to form on her plump lips.

"sorry, minjeongie. can't help it. you just look so adorable."

disarmed by the familiar cheekiness, minjeong laughed. "it's okay, unnie," she whispered, turning her head to look out the window to hide her racing pulse.

(though minjeong didn't notice the subtle twitch against the seam of her sister's slacks while the latter repeated the slow caresses on her thighs; she only knew the glide of jimin's palm felt extraordinarily good, but that was normal for them, wasn't it?)

half an hour later, they reached the iron gates of their gapyeong estate.

minjeong stepped out onto the gravel, eyes instantly taking in the sight of their childhood summer home.

a two-story villa of dark, weathered larchwood and rough-cut river granite. from where she was standing, the leaded glass panels bordering the main door was visible, even the custom-carved pine columns and copper downspouts that had oxidized over the years.

the house used to have its vibrant glow with it, but with the inhabitants gone, from the outside, the windows had obviously gone blind, fogged from within. in the corners of the wooden eaves and along the frames of the veranda, spiders already had made their geometrical webs. all that was left were visible signs of neglect.

still, minjeong let herself get drunk on nostalgia. this was, after all, their once humble abode. home where memories of their youth had flourished, baking itself into the grain of timbers and its high, vaulted ceilings.

jimin on the other hand, retrieved the folding chairs she had brought from the trunk of her car, carrying them down the grassy slope toward the silver-grey wood of the dock. minjeong's attention quickly drew back to her sister as she watched her set up the chairs right at the edge of the weathered pier, positioning them just a few inches away from the shade of the willow tree beside it.

"still as quiet as i remember," minjeong murmured, watching the light shimmer on the glassy water as they sat.

"nature doesn't keep a calendar, minjeongie," jimin replies, leaning back. she tilts her baseball cap just enough to let the pale sun catch the beautiful angles of her jaw.

minjeong, watching, only sank into her adjacent chair, tucking her knees toward her chest in a cozy, childlike gesture.

home.

finally.

at last.

with jimin.

the silence went on between the two, aided by the shrill whistle of the passing air.

minjeong didn't mind it. with jimin, prolonged pauses spoke for themselves. comfort between them did not depend on the clatter of words. no noise was necessary to sustain it.

and so, minjeong sat there with jimin, her eyes drinking in the landscape—the lake, an expanse of polished sapphire, the sun pouring a liquid, honeyed warmth over the green. even her ears were met with sounds that rendered comfort, echoing nostalgia. the staccato chattering of unseen birds, cicadas whirring in the trees.

there's no place like home, as they say.

and with jimin beside her, that, she could say, was very much true.

minjeong let her gaze rest on the lake a moment longer before she turned to look at her unnie. jimin, unlike her, was not giving herself over to the afternoon. instead, her attention had gone inward to the phone in her hands, thumbs moving, typing with impatient speed.

unlike minjeong, jimin was elsewhere.

for a hot minute, something in minjeong cracked. felt a prickling resentment rising in her chest. call her childish, but they should be catching up, should they not? she crossed her arms on her chest tightly, pouting in that stubborn way she always did when her unnie's focus strayed even a millimeter from her.

did her unnie not miss her at all?

three, four, five agonizing minutes had passed, and still, her sister continued. worst of all, with a smile twitching at the corner of her lips.

to hide her annoyance, she forced her eyes to wander once again, looking at the water; then, bored, gaze shifting to the shaggy fescue choking the path, then, inevitably, snapping back to the curve of jimin's jaw as she typed.

water, grass, jimin. water, grass, jimin. the cycle repeated, her irritation compounding with every chime of an incoming message.

who on earth is she texting? minjeong thought, teeth catching her lower lip. isn't she even curious about me? about how my classes are going? about how i barely survived fiver years without—

unable to bear the dismissal any longer, minjeong let out a tiny huff of air, a petulant protest of a younger sister, before shifting her weight in her seat.

seemingly sensing minjeong's displeased demeanor, jimin slowly slid the phone back into her pocket, eyes locking onto minjeong's face with that ever familiar, mocking amusement.

minjeong only narrowed her gaze.

"so," minjeong began. "any new additions to your fan club unnie? you've been suspiciously quiet on kakao lately."

jimin, in response, let out an amused huff, thumb idly tracing the armrest. "what do you mean fan club? i don't know what you mean, minjeongie."

"oh, please. you're far too popular for your own good." minjeong's voice raised a notch higher. "i still remember that one summer during my freshman year when that ferocious girl from your department somehow got my number. sending me those paragraphs to warn me, telling me to back off." minjeong almost rolled her eyes at such an unpleasant memory.

"why did you even make me your lockscreen wallpaper, unnie? i've been harassed so many times because apparently they thought i was your girlfriend."

"ah. really. there was no need to explain myself. they were all intrusions and i don't tolerate intrusions. you know that."

"is that why she didn't last?" minjeong found herself asking, the question slipping out before she could even think through it.

her sister had been popular, yes. still popular now. minjeong felt not the slightest ripple of surprise at her sister's popularity. to put it crudely, she was quite simply, a creature sculpted for worship. her eyes wandered to her sister's physique beside her. approximately five-foot six or taller, broad and taut shoulders developed from years of swimming in these very waters, with arms pale and smooth, defined by a statuesque muscle that made minjeong's own limbs feel small and fragile by comparison.

and that's only her bodily aesthetic. an apollonian image, as one may say if one studied greek.

she's beautiful, in the simplest sense. but let her actually be exact, since vagueness is its own kind of dishonesty. if she were to attempt to describe it further, it goes beyond what words could entail; the fine arrogance of her nose, jaw seemingly carved by the gods themselves. and her eyes. jimin's were large, rounded in that soft, doe-like way, wide-set and dark. eyes built for gentleness and—she pauses. a blurry image taking shape in her mind. those same set of eyes, looking down at her from above—the darks in the eyes thickened, gone syrupy, pupils swollen.

her eyebrows furrowed, confused. perhaps a mere trick of her brain. how odd.

but yes. jimin is popular. among the girls, especially. how did she know?

she remembered a photograph she had once seen on instagram two years ago. in the picture then, was jimin, entirely wasted, dark hair disheveled. in one hand was a scarlet plastic cup whilst her collar was unbuttoned, and on her lap was some girl, a stranger in minjeong's eyes, draped over her thighs. they were kissing—a messy blur of lips under the party lights.

that photo, was enclosed in a particular section of her mind. she swore to not forget because it had brought such intense feelings she could not even recognize herself the first time she'd seen it. she remembers staring at the photo until her eyes ached then.

good riddance. that they're over now.

she shook the ghost of the image away, looking out over the water once again to hide the tell-tale flush on her cheeks, an imprint of her intrusive thoughts.

"mhm," jimin casually hums. "and you?" jimin follows up, tone dropping a notch lower. her gaze drifted down to minjeong's face. "any boyfriends i have yet to meet?"

minjeong, truthfully so, shrugged. indifference. she did not care. there were people lining up for her, admirers on their knees, flowers by her desk in the morning but she did not care to ask. who they're from, what for. they're all distractions anyway.

"not really. unlike you, i'm just not really interested and i—" she let out a quiet sigh, shrinking into her chair. "—i like it that way."

what she doesn't say is, that, jimin's presence alone was enough in her life. no, that would be too weird to say out loud.

"good," jimin murmurs softly beside her, as if she's telling herself that too. "seoul can be very corrupting if you let the wrong people in."

minjeong remained mum, couldn't counter her sister's argument. there was that lack in that department in her life because she barely let anyone in. she had been a quiet student—only talking when she needed to, socializing when she had to.

the only other person aside from her mother that she had let in was jimin, and minjeong was certain, that she harbored no wish, not even a flicker of ambition, to alter what had stayed, true and true.

she leaned her head back against the chair, looking out over the water again.

"wah—i missed this place so much." a loud exhale escaped from her lips.

she changes the subject for fear of saying too much. she had to. it had been embarassing enough to admit how she had been basically a recluse during the time her sister was away. she had to retain some dignity at least.

"me too." jimin's voice dropped an octave but the change remained unnoticed by the younger, distracted by the landscape in front of her. 

minjeong loved nature. it reminds her how we're all just trivial little beings surrounded by its enormous existence. a living ecosystem whose intelligence was fully unknown to man—it fascinates her. it breathes, it heaves, it moves and ages.

but really, most of all, she loved the smell. of damp grass and moss. of wet soil and sweetish perfume of drowned reeds. it helped create a caricature version of their sacred place—their, being her and jimin—in her head, a place she could constantly visit when nights are harshest in its coldness, biting, penetrating her being. 

when she longs to go back to the old days.

"we used to hangout here a lot didn't we?" minjeong paused, trying to recall the forgotten years, eyes looking over the once trimmed grasses that have now grown taller due to years of neglect.

jimin was in charge of trimming them even though their parents had told her not to. furthermore, they offered to get them a nanny, a babysitter but jimin had insisted. claiming she could take care of minjeong and the house by herself. that she could do the chores without seeking assistance from anybody. not even from their parents.

and so, with jimin gone, the grasses, fat and insolent, had grown. years of abandonment rendered tall and pliant reeds, unclipped.

their parents were mostly overseas too. mostly absent from their life, looking back. never seemed to care for their old family home enough to make it at least presentable to visitors. even to its previous inhabitants.

"you told me you loved the warm breeze here the most, and the noise from cicadas. you loved the sun too, didn't you?" jimin supplied, looking at minjeong. "this—" jimin extends her arms. "—is just the perfect spot to just bask in it, no?" 

minjeong's heart softened at this and she nods. jimin, her forgetful unnie had remembered but hey, she too, had something to say.

a funny one, actually. quite annoying too. but she had grown to love it because it's jimin.

"and did you also remember how you used to tease me a lot?' she whines light-heartedly, chuckling at the thought, reminiscing the countless times she had been a brat to jimin on purpose, how much she had cried because jimin, as much as she was lovely and caring towards the younger, was also quite a handful. an asshole, if one must say.

jimin laughed at this too. "of course." she reached out with her hand, pinching minjeong's left cheek with her thumb and index finger. "you look so much like a puppy when you're angry i just couldn't help myself, you know."

"unnie!." minjeong pouts, eyebrows knitting together at the center of her forehead. still the same old jimin, indeed. she shoves jimin lightly by her shoulders, before exhaling quite softly, eyes taking in the serene appearance of the lake.

"you used to read me stories too. i really missed that." she thought of her younger self lying on jimin's clothed lap under the shade of the tree that's already decades older than she was then. "can you read me something like that again?"

ada, or ardor.

that one. minjeong had liked it so much. for reasons unknown now, but she remembers the cover of the book. still etched in the corners of her mind.

to her surprise, jimin had pulled up something from her bag, and there it was. for a second, her sister stared at it before her dark eyes met hers once again, a fond smile playing on her lips. "you still remember this?"

"of course i do," minjeong said, an enthusiastic smile breaking across her features as she leaned forward, long ginger hair flowing over her shoulders. "you used to read it to me under the tree when the sun got too hot. it's my favorite, actually."

she remembered it. she does. her sister's lulling voice. up until that point, yes.

she remembers.

jimin paused, strong fingers lifting the swollen book before opening its now yellowed pages, eyes scanning the print.

"do you want me to read one passage for you?"

minjeong surges with delight, her head bobbing uncontrollably as she nods. just like before. with her child-like eagerness and natural curiosity.

then—jimin began to read, voice dropping to a raspy voice minjeong had already memorized like the back of her hand. a lot deeper now than before that it made her chest tighten with such sweet, inexplicable warmth.

"one thing you should be established once for all, indefeasibly. i loved, love, and shall love only you. i implore you and love you with everlasting pain and passion, my darling… because i had and have and shall always have only one beau, only one beast, only one sorrow, only one joy."

minjeong closed her eyes as it ended, letting the cadence of the words wash over her, body reacting before her brain could understand why her skin begins to itch—something from the inside, nothing external. the tiny hairs in her arms rose, pulse quickening.

"it's so beautiful," she ends up murmuring. the tip of her tongue took a trip, a fissure opening the continuum of her own speech. such rush of bliss consumed her being.

she flutters her eyes shut before opening it again to look at her sister and found that jimin was already looking down at her too.

"jimin-unnie?" she repeats.

and no, jimin wasn't smiling as she had minutes ago. which was odd. rather, she had a look so neutral yet her eyes—they swirled seemingly with unsaid thoughts. it felt heavy to look at her.

"oh—something wrong unnie?"

this seemed to wake jimin up from her trance. she shakes her head off to the side, a sheepish grin forming on her lip. "ah, nothing minjeongie. i was just trying to remember something. you know, unnie always had bad memory."

"ah, of course!" the korean word left her mouth in such a funny way, emphasizing the letter m for 그럼.

jiminie was indeed, prone to forgetfulness. they have time later anyway. perhaps, they could help each other recover the years they had lost together. 

she smiles at the thought. they have all day, all weekend for that.

she changes the subject. 

"how was university unnie?"

"busy. actually, i had to adjust my schedule to see you today. got a lot on my plate you know."

"wah—daebak. unnie. you really made time for me?" minjeong lets out a soft smile, extending her left hand, wrapping it around jimin's pinky's.

jimin had always liked it when she does it.

she hopes she still does.

jimin looks at her with the same fond expression she had grown to love at fifteen, and before she knew it, she felt jimin intertwining their hand together—jimin's free right hand, and minjeong's left.

"of course," it was jimin's turn. "anything for my little one."

her cheeks tinged pink at this. blushing. oh, minjeong. in her sweet age of twenty, bordering the lines between adulthood and adolescence, she still was the same cheeky girl jimin had known.

there's just something about her unnie saying those words. little one. especially when affixed with ownership—my little one.

she's grown now, but looking at jimin and her glassy dark eyes, always so enticing and enthralling—she knew she will always be her little one.

"well—" jimin stands up, gathering her things. "are you hungry? i bought groceries along the way because i figured we can just cook—" she pauses, closing the book in her hands with a thud, before attempting to place it back to her bag, but as her fingers released the cover, something fell out.

a single, white-bordered square of paper slipping from between the pages, landing face up on the weathered planks.

minjeong, governed by reflex before thought ever could, cast her gaze downward at the thing, and when she did, she felt the blood in her face drain, a treacherous shiver threading its way along her spine.

"unnie—" minjeong's voice rattled, shaky. trembling fingers, eyelids wanting to flutter shut. she looked at jimin's eyes and found—darkness. "what was that—?"

jimin, whose reflex arrived half a second late, grabbed the polaroid off the wet wooden floorboard with clumsy urgency, scrambling to hide it inside her water-logged copy of ada, or ardor.

minjeong couldn't believe her eyes.

that could not be her. she searches her own jagged memory, filtering through categories, sifting and looking and finding and—none.

but the girl in the polaroid was indisputably her.

at fifteen.

it fell way too close to her line of sight she had a good look of what the photo entailed—minjeong, years younger, her bangs sweaty and sticking to her forehead, pupils swarming, hazy and dazed, looking straight at the camera. her small nimble hands tightened to a fist. it all looked so erotic—like she had been inviting, black hair sprawled all over the wet green grass, back against it, legs spread wide open and her clothes—she was wearing them yes but its positioning was questionable. her summer dress covered her chest, but the design exposed her fair shoulders fitting for her age then. narrow and thin. but what caught her off guard was how exposed she was. the dress wasn't covering her lower body at all. no underwear in sight. all fairness and skin. the fabric bunched up, exposing her pink and soaking heat. it looked sore—red and glistening. covered in what seemed like milky white substance on the exterior, and in the entrance, the same white liquid oozed, like water.

"unnie—" she repeats. fear enveloped her tiny body. it had her whole being shaking and trembling. she shrank, lips worried themselves against her teeth, mouth distrusting the world.

she does not remember any of it. the memories flew like fugitive butterflies, flitting about just out of reach. was that photoshopped? what was that? when did that happen?

"you seriously don't remember, do you?" jimin's voice was a lot louder now. imposing. "ah—i really thought i could keep it all to myself." she ruffles the hair at the back of her head. she looked so calm and collected for a person whose skeletons were just found in the cupboard. not even meticulously hidden at that, but it terrified minjeong. a tremor, a shiver. fine hairs at her nape rising like a crown. 

"but i guess you leave me with no choice, mhm? it was long overdue anyway."

what on earth—?

"at first i was disappointed that you've forgotten everything—" jimin took a step forward. she looks way bigger now. minjeong had always been aware of their height difference but it wasn't as glaring as this. it never was. despite her sister's innate tallness, scary was the last description she'll ever associate with the older girl. at least, that was as far as her memory took her, but even that, despite being her own, was unfaithful and had now proven to be vulnerable to such forgery. 

minjeong took a rather audible gulp at this realization. a sound too loud, jimin must've heard it. her grin widened, something demonic and evil. chills pricked her skin, shivers running down her spine. she wanted to ask more questions, but jimin kept going and so, she visibly recoiled, stepping back. fearing for her life, for the implications. in her fear, there was disgust too, and it licked and licked and licked at the edges of her composure.

violence. such ugly, human violence done unto her. she briefly looked down, revulsed, gathering her already disorganized thoughts and when she had looked up, she knew that jimin had the upper hand now. like she always did. her eyes were darker, deep with intentions unknown.

"it was i—the only bearer of a memory so precious and that had to mean something right? so i didn't remind you and let you be. i waited. but baby you have no idea how much i held back—" she huffs a sigh. "—i wanted you to remember. i wanted to make you remember. how we made love then—" she took another step, crushing the twig beneath her feet.

they were inches away from each other now that minjeong had to hold her breath. jimin was towering over her small stature. she looked gigantic, an enigma she could not resist. she smells her strong perfume, smelling of juicy blackberries mixed with zesty grapefruits and she hates that she still loves it, wants it wrapped all over her. and the smell conquered. it made her want to drown herself in her scent, erasing every bit of rationale she's had left in her mind.

but she shouldn't. she must not.

she held on. attempted to, at the very least.

"you always looked so beautiful every time i finished inside you, did you know that?" jimin extended her hand in front of her to caress minjeong's cheek. minjeong, angry, confused, and eveything in between, finds herself still leaning in. her body did, not heeding her mind's warning.

she's so sick. sick. sick. sick.

"i have a lot more stashed in my dorm. i look at them and jack off to the thought of you. god, you looked so—" jimin bit her own lip, visibly reminiscing. "—so breakable. how you trembled under my touch, shaking after i make you come. you always looked me in the eye when we fuck and my god, the power you held over me—" jimin pauses, voice careening to a whisper. she heavily exhales, a shaky one before crouching so she could get a good look at minjeong's face.

minjeong's eyes were a cesspool of tears, salty waterfall falling down the sides of her cheeks without warning. she could not believe what she was hearing from her own sister. it made her nauseous. she wanted to vomit, her head swaying, teetering on the edge, swirling and swirling. dizziness invited itself in. she felt lightheaded. confused.

when exactly did this happen? why was her mind so blank? uncooperative? when? when? when—

jimin leans in for a chaste kiss, surprising minjeong and as she pulled away, she says, "you're still the powerful little girl that you were. look—" jimin guides her hand down the slope of her thigh to the rising tent of her slacks, letting her rub it with her clammy palms, and—it scared her. truly. it was big, and heavy, and thick, even under the fabric, and before she could even withdraw, jimin clamped down over her knuckles, ultimately crushing her fingers over her cock, squeezing the ridge through the fabric. it must've felt too good, that a groan was ripped from jimin's throat. a guttural groan so primal, and raw, making her even more utterly confused.

and there's that sensitive, throbbing in between her legs too, the wetness oozing and dampening her underwear, kissing her bare skin underneath the summer dress, albeit the act being so morally vulgar and inappropriate. a crime so irrevocably violent, a sinful misdeed to fulfill such foolish desires.

it blurred the boundaries between what's considered right and wrong.

certainly, she did not want this. not at all and yet—

"look at what you're doing to me now, minjeongie. do you want me to make you remember?"

minjeong lay surrendered to the damp earth, back pressed deep into the loam. the thin cotton of her summer dress, white, bordered in the bruised pink of a tea rose was already ruined, damp with dew and pushed high up her waist, offering her completely to the early air, exposed and ready for the taking.

and jimin was above her. the morning light radiated and reflected the fine sheen of sweat on her shoulders, and it glittered and glistened, dripping like molasses.

minjeong had her legs draped high, resting over jimin's broad shoulders, and the position alone had all her sovereignty wiped away.

unashamed, a giddy smile remained on her rosy cheeks, eyes darting towards jimin above her, cock sheathed deep inside her soaking heat.

it stretched her folds, deeper, way past her bodily limits. each thrust made her feel very full—a dizzying experience, her head spinning. the thrusts were slow, and crushing, the length bringing forth warmth inside her belly.

"ah—unnie…"

the honorific slipped from her sugar plum-flavored lips. minjeong mewled and cried out, sounds catching in the back of her throat with each shove. it hurt. her unnie's cock was so big and it rubbed against her walls too tightly. a puncture in the velvet of her chest, a jagged bruise to her soul.

but then, she looks up, meets jimin's dark ones, iridescent and hungry, face crumpling with pleasure as she plunged inside, making sure minjeong tiny hole swallows the totality of her length. she bites her lips, and locked her gaze with the younger. agonizing hunger, feeling that voracious desire to consume and consume every atom of her presence.

and minjeong caught on to this too and understood and just couldn't help but feel joy. almost hysterical, washing over the pain. she laughs—giggles bubbling up from her chest unbidden.

and jimin smiles too. motivated, she gave in to her unfiltered desire, driving deeper inside the younger. a lot faster this time, a syncopated frenzy into the warm labyrinth of her pink insides.

"unnie—ah," minjeong gasped, bangs sticking against her forehead due to sweat and perspiration. her fingers also clawed and thrashed frantically into the wet grass beside her head. her unnie was going so rough and fast. she's entirely not sure if she can take it any further. and she keeps on feeling that knot in her belly too, crumpling, twisting her insides.

she knew euphoria was peeking through the seams, waiting for her to bloom and shatter. and shatter she will, with how good her unnie was making her feel.

"it feels so good—unnie nggh… more."

from the crushed clover near minjeong's head, jimin retrieved a black plastic instant camera. some polaroid she brought with her.

"look at me," jimin rasped, hips still moving but slower now, taking her sweet time. she held the lens mere inches from minjeong's face, her other hand locking securely under minjeong's hips to maintain the rhythm she had established. skin slapped against skin, clapping sounds and squelches filled the quiet morning.

and the lens of the camera stared at minjeong. she had no choice but to comply, and she looked and looked, lost in its mechanical eye, locked gazes with the lens and now in a spellbound stupor, laid completely bare and stripped of pretense, leaving her utterly unable to look away.

like she's paralyzed, suspended in time. trembling breath preserved, knowing damn well her own rapture would be immortalized by a shutter, etched into the silver grain of the negative.

"make a face, baby." jimin commanded. "show me how much you want this."

something about the tone of her voice made minjeong force her lids open. cockdrunk, she lets go of the last remnants of her pride; leaning back to the grass, parting her swollen lips, letting her tongue dart out in a wet, defiant gesture of such insolent surrender.

click.

and from there, the camera slowly spit out the white-bordered square of a frame, but that did not stop jimin at all.

she tossed the camera aside, drove herself deeper into the younger girl.

with every movement, minjeong felt herself being drilled into a state of oblivion, mind a blank canvas as she felt her unnie's cock rub deliciously inside, and it's such a strange feeling she would admit, albeit them having done this more times than she could count. she knew she was being unraveled, piece by piece and deliriously, euphorically, she has accepted it.

such animalistic thrusts she had taken like a champ. primal, feral beings. both of them. jimin, chasing her own high and minjeong, her own rapture materializing, body integrating into the grass she's lying on. like she's one with the earth itself.

"minjeong—fuck… coming—" jimin grunted, her entire frame stuttering as she unloaded her come deep inside minjeong's still tight, pulsing cunt, filling her up to the absolute brim.

it felt so warm inside.

and it did not take long before minjeong came crashing too. her own walls clamped down, pulsing and throbbing, sending desperate spams onto the cock she's currently impaled to.

she shook violently against the earth, back arching, mouth parted in a silent scream. and jimin, oh her beautiful sister, held her dear and gentler than she had ever done all through out.

"come for me, little one. yes, yes—" jimin supported her back, lips on her neck nipping and biting. "that's it. come for me."

for a long minute, they stayed still; jimin still on top of minjeong, minjeong with her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath. she's overstimulated, skin felt so raw, thighs slick with sweat, their shared slickness dripping down the grass.

and then jimin propped herself up using her elbows, observing minjeong and her well-used body.

minjeong remained where she was, dried saliva at the corners of her mouth, body still unraveled on the grass and in the dirt, legs trembling slightly before they fully dropped. her summer dress was already pushed all the way to her ribs, leaving her lower half completely bare, exposing the pearlescent spill of jimin's warm come slowly escaping the bruised pink folds of her glistening pussy, pooling against the pale skin of her inner thighs.

her eyelids were closing in on itself, her consciousness dropping. exhaustion bit her to the bone, and she was just about to fall asleep when jimin got up all of a sudden, camera in hand once again.

she focused the lens on the totality of the scene; minjeong and her ruined state and especially, the weeping white substance between her legs.

click.

and there—the evidence was put on a white square of paper.

jimin then tossed the camera back with a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"you're so messy, minjeongie—" jimin said with a teasing lilt as she laid beside minjeong once again. "look at what you've done to your dress. it's completely soaked through. how are we going to explain this to mom when she gets back from seoul tonight?"

minjeong lets out a soft giggle at this, turning to the side, observing jimin's side profile; the tall bridge of her nose, rosy cheeks that extended down to her long neck, bruised lips from all the kissing. "we'll just say we slipped in the lake again, unnie. like we always do when we go swimming." she adds, fingers idly pulling at the grass near jimin's head.

jimin also turned to her side, facing minjeong. her gaze settled upon her with lucid, lingering tenderness, dark irises wonder-struck. her long fingers gently smoothing the wet wisps of hair away from minjeong's forehead.

"we've 'slipped' six times this week, minjeong-ah," jimin murmured, her thumb tracing a slow, lingering path down minjeong's jawline. "we gotta do better than that, don't you think?"

"only six?" minjeong breathed, the syllable curling about her lips with furtive playfulness. up she gazed at her saintly guardian, dark eyes flashing. "i thought we agreed the afternoon on the old boat dock didn't count. or the sunroom."

"the sunroom absolutely counted." jimin retorted, hand wandering lower, fingertips tracing the still sensitive curve of minjeong's inner thigh, right beside the evidence she herself had left, the proof of her staking the claim to her sister's own innocence. "you were so loud i thought the neighbors would hear us through the screen door."

"you're the one who who wouldn't let me go though, unnie," minjeong whispered, chest rising and falling in sync with jimin's.

she closed her eyes again, letting her head roll back into the damp grass, the sun devouring her whole; the warmth spreading across her thin body; the same physique beautifully ruined by her unnie's touch.

"i love you, unnie." minjeong confesses under her breath, a teen's devotion, encompassing and full of passion.

she turns her head to the side once again, looking at jimin, studying her. the sunrays had touched their bodies, making them glow, almost in a dream-like haze.

so, so pretty. her unnie.

"i love you too, minjeongie." jimin answers almost a little too fast.

her hand rose to minjeong's messy black hair, tucking a strand behind her ear.

did this with tenderness, eyes locked with minjeong's. "i love you." jimin repeats before guiding her by the chin, kissing the younger slowly but surely, capturing her upper lip before seamlessly moving to her lower lip. then, a soft tug, and minjeong sighs yet again. of contentment. of happiness.

beside them lay the polaroid jimin had used, time and time again, containing proof of all the secret afternoons they had stolen in the quiet of the empty estate.

what the mind can lose with such elegant dishonesty, the photograph retains with merciless devotion. memory may veil the intolerable behind a brighter falsehood, may drape a screen over the ache and call it recollection, but photos are less forgiving.

such little ironies of time, outliving the tenderness of recollection itself.

the mind forgets as a kind of mercy, turning catastrophe into something blurred and survivable.

(something minjeong will do, in the next years to come, albeit unconsciously.)

"u-unnie—" minjeong mewls, cries and thrashes on the grass—legs attempting to kick, arms clutching on the wet grass around her for purchase. the first lick made her dizzy, angry and perplexed. how revolting all this is. "get off me—hm!"

but jimin only tightened her hold onto her own sister, keeping both her legs spread wide. the summer dress she was wearing bunched up to her tummy, her pink cunt out in the air while jimin, her older sister, consumes her. her tongue on minjeong's glistening flesh—swirling and swirling making her melt.

memories came crawling back to her as time went on, with each lick, each press on the sensitive bundle of nerves atop her gaping hole brought forth a memory so disgusting she couldn't stomach remembering it.

but the mind, ever so treacherous, still showed against her will. its complex nature is to show and demonstrate. a curse, deeply etched inside the workings of biology and neurons firing in her brain.

the whole thing her mind had buried six feet deep had resurfaced unannounced, leaving behind trails of destruction in its wake.

"minjeongie," her older sister moans, her voice vibrating through her pink pussy. "you taste so good—mm,"

"jimin unnie please—stop," minjeong had her right hand clutching the grass, the other by jimin's hair, attempting to pull her away. but it was useless, she could barely pull, terrified of hurting jimin and so she remained lying, legs spread wide, letting her own sister feast on her sweet trembling wetness, creating squelching noises in harmony with her pleas.

"unnie—nggh," she moans at the feeling of a finger invading her entrance—her tight cunt swallowing it in an instant.

"but your pussy is saying something else minjeongie—" jimin's head rose up from between her legs, just enough for her to lock eyes with minjeong's teary-eyed ones.

the prey and the predator in a stare-down. jimin looking so elated. her chin, underlip and top lip glistening with her juices.

it was such a maddening sight to see.

she knew this was so wrong. morally so. and yet—she remembers again. how she had loved it once. once being an understatement. but multiple times, was the word she was looking for. how she had begged for more, for her sister to breed her full, consuming her seed until it overflows, until it oozes out of her hole.

at fifteen, she had let herself partake in such a forbidden little ruin of an act, and that specific wound in her memory lay dormant, waiting until this very moment to return and shame her with its persistence.

until that photo surfaced.

revelations flung open to daylight—secrets no longer whispered but spread before her like a crime scene. there she stood, a willing victim in the path of catastrophe. it struck her with such dreadful velocity of ruin, flinging through her life at the speed lightning reached the earth and cruelest thing of them all is that she couldn't do much to thwart its factuality.

oh, how readily the body understands disaster before her heart consents to it.

doom was neigh, indeed.

"minjeongie—stop fighting it." jimin said, hovering up higher so she's on top of the younger.

minjeong, trembling still, couldn't even look away from jimin's piercing ones. they're leveled now, and jimin. oh her older sister, had all the intent. the darkness behind her eyes spoke, unwavering. this wasn't the jimin she knew.

or had she really just forgotten who she really was? all of it?

"you used to love it when i eat you out," jimin muses, pulling out her her index finger before using the same digit to coax minjeong's pink wet mouth open, rubbing her own glistening juices to her plump lips. "your cries, baby. you couldn't stop them every time i go down on you and you just sounded so sweet—" jimin caresses her jaw with her other hand while still directly looking at her.

"you looked so fuckable then—" jimin leans down, inching closer to her lips. "you still are now. my beautiful minjeongie—ah, how i love you." jimin gives her a chaste kiss. "do you remember now?"

"maybe it would help if i fuck you with my cock instead—" and that got minjeong cower in fear, her body responding in a way so contradictory—legs shaking, wanting to pull away and yet she trembles with anticipation and her heart—like a trapped bird, couldn't stop its pounding uncontrollably between the cages of her chest. the thought of her unnie's cock destroying her. breaking her. it made her moan. in pleasure? disgust? shame? she couldn't distinguish which. she was all over the place, scared, anxious. or maybe she had always wanted jimin this way.

but no—she mustn't. she shook her head, but the damage had been done. jimin had heard.

a mistake so costly because now jimin is looking at her with so much delight, eerily so.

"oh? you like that don't you? my god, minjeong. you never changed at all." jimin uses her other hand to support her weight, propping herself up with her elbow to prevent crushing minjeong, while the other fumbled with her belt, unbuckling it in haste.

and minjeong, oh minjeong. she wanted to run away. turn away. push her sister and leave. run from here. jimin isn't as heavy as she seemed. she certainly could escape. but her mind remained passive—uncertainty consuming her.

"you're still my little one. fuck i can't wait to be inside you again." she positions her heavy girth against her soaping entrance—minjeong doesn't even know why, but she feels wetness down there, pooling and aching for attention without her permission. she knew the logistics of it. a defense mechanism for such intrusion.

but under a dizzying haze of lust and desire, one's mind can get so clouded and twisted, eagerly seeking refuge in a lie.

"let me remind you how good it felt minjeongie—oh— so tight—" jimin eventually intruded, breaking in, pain shooting up her nerves as she felt it. it was so big—the feeling of being split in half, of being torn apart was the first of the many thoughts and sensations that flooded her mind and body.

"ah—unnie! s-stop!" she cries out but her sister did not pay heed to it. instead, she pushed in further, letting the length sink deeper and it felt like barb wires ripping her from the inside out. it really hurt.

"just a bit more minjeongie–i promise it'll feel better—" jimin whispers in her ear softly, as if to alleviate the pain, but it only amplifies it—the horrifying feeling of her sister's cock inside her, its sticky feeling, the forbidden nature of what's about to happen.

"stop—unnie—please!" minjeong's hands tightened to a fist, its edges hitting her sister's shoulder but to no avail. she pushed, and cried and wailed and thrashed around the grass but jimin only held her tighter, placing both her hands beside her head before pinning them to the ground as she pushed further into the smaller girl, pushing and pushing until she felt the tip of her cock hit the entrance of minjeong's cervix.

a couple of inches before she was buried to the hilt and yes—it was done. a sigh of pleasure from jimin, a tear-stricken minjeong lay pinned on the muddy grass.

she's fully inside her now.

"you're so wet baby, what do you mean?" jimin continued thrusting her hips the moment she realized the whole shaft was in, its tightness and wetness soaking her length, egging her on further.

minjeong felt her sister's cock scraping her flesh from the inside, rubbing her thin walls and the motion itself both felt like breaking in and scratching an itch she hadn't even known to be there.

it felt surreptitiously good.

gods, how revolting. she feels her own body flake, move on its own accord, thrashing, mouth whimpering helplessly as her sister continued thrusting, albeit slow at first.

her small gasps never stopped, her sobs continued, and almost wailed jimin's name out loud when a certain spot was hit ceremoniously inside her by sister's cock. she bit her lip to hide it, but it was too late. it was uttered.

how unfortunate that jimin had always been omniscient, keen to details. especially with minjeong. always knowing how minjeong really felt, like there's some invisible link connecting her to minjeong's state of mind. like some thread. like fate.

and now, she's utterly fucked under her arms, because what she needs—she pauses. her teary-eyes met jimin's dark ones and she knew just knew how the older girl understood it differently. or did she?

she recognized it for minjeong understanding pleasure for what it was, regardless of its forbidden nature and began pounding into her, faster, slaps of skin against skin echoed, singing with the nature around them untuned.

and minjeong, poor minjeong and her fragile body. she cried and cried, mixed sobs and half-moans threatening to spill out of her plump lips as her sister fucked her into oblivion.

how sullied minjeong had become.

streaks of memory resurfaced once again, this time clearer, a montage of images her mind had buried once.

a tear fell from her left eye once more, and she shook her head, rejecting what reality had thrown her way.

she had been here before. young and naive. jimin's cock buried inside her and she was smiling then. like it was all a game. jimin tickling her waist. hips moving against her own. the grainy quality of the memory reminded her of a film. a reality so distant and out of reach. was all of those even real? or was her mind playing tricks on her?

she felt jimin adjust their position, reminding her of the utterly filthy human being she had become. jimin managed to pull her even closer by wrapping her arms around her, encircling minjeong with her arms, reaching from beneath her armpits up to her upper back as she took and took and took. repeatedly taking what was hers. minjeong's. or maybe it was jimin's after all. her being. her body. her soul. her innocence. maybe it really was all jimin's for the taking.

she had both her legs spread wide, feet hanging in the air as jimin strengthened each thrust, the skin of her pelvis hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves above her sopping entrance.

and it began to feel really, really good. she could not withstand the thought of enjoying such obscenity and yet— lewd noises sprang from her lips, multiple ahs she could not even control. it was mostly from the pain—physically and mentally. but that hint of salacious pleasure was undeniable.

how could her unnie, the very same person who had cared for her as though she were bound to her by blood, by cradle, by some indissoluble tenderness, do something like this? how could such violence have been arranged by the same hands that once smoothed her hair, tended her hurt, sheltered her smallness? how dare she guide her not in comfort but in corruption and why now? they could've just left it in the past and forgotten it, but no.

the thoughts spelled out madness and disbelief.

but it was her fault too, wasn't it? she had looked, and seen the evidence of her own rapture, bringing forth this frenzied affair.

jimin certainly had loved her. that is no question. loved her so much into safety when they were young, or so she thought, because now she's contriving her undoing, being her guardian once to the executioner of such downright repulsive violence in the next, committing such an act against her own will. she just cannot understand. she doesn't understand.

it felt so much like a sin so intimate. a betrayal made in flesh. it cut, deep. and it hurt, and it hurt, and it hurt and hurt.

but it feels so good, doesn't it? the devil goads on.

with a certain thrust, jimin paused—pushing even deeper into her tight, aching cunt and she moaned. lewd and loud. it croaked against the trees and birds flew from the branches, perhaps horror-stricken. they were unwilling witness after all of such debauchery.

"u-unnie—" she cried out once again. her throat was dry, lips probably cracked, mascara ruined. she felt utterly helpless.

jimin. jimin. jimin. her lovely unnie. she once idolized her, liking her for who she thought she was.

how could—her mind stops, the words confuse themselves, floating in the back of her eyes. perhaps, jimin does not think of this as a sin at all. because one can only think that such actions were, if one can actually feel remorse for committing them. and jimin, with her partial sympathy and her relentless thrusts, spells no remorse but rather unfathomable satisfaction, relishing her acts of madness towards minjeong.

jimin was more than ready to weep with passion and impatience just to fill her quivering hole with her girthy cock.

"i love you, minjeongie—oh fuck—i'm close." jimin rasped against her ear before coming face to face with minjeong again.

she had such a wild and dazed look in her eyes. still the same jimin, the jimin she looked up to as they played under the sun when they were fifteen but now—this, was a monster. she considers, and looks at her with contempt—the best she could do at least. eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed. she probably looked stupid, like a child whose candy had been stolen.

but jimin's lips only curled to the side. she did not take it seriously. oh, she's the devil indeed. and the devil leaned in, suffocating her, kissing her on the mouth but her mouth remained tight-lipped. maybe if she resisted more, jimin wouldn't push any further.

jimin, surprisingly, took no offense to it, felt her pulling away and yes—light. finally. possibly. minjeong could almost taste it. freedom. did jimin realize how she wasn't as into this as she was before? or of how wrong it was to fuck your own sister?

she felt the girl's hold on her loosen, and she might as well just break free. her hard cock was still pulsing inside her, but the girl now sat up.

"stop playing hard to get minjeongie—" she said with such a low tone, almost growling, before she pulls out, cock heavy and hard still, flipping her over.

minjeong let out a choked gasp as her chest slammed flat against the earth, both of her hands pinned against her back by jimin's left hand. then, without warning, jimin's cold hand coaxed her dress higher, gathering the cotton upwards, bunching it up just beneath her armpits, leaving her bare to the elements.

from behind, her sister leaned in closer, heavy breath ghosting against the nape of minjeong's neck while her strong hand reached around to cup her exposed swells, fiddling with its tips, playing with her nub and such touch alone forced another gasp from her throat.

"i'm going to fuck you 'til you break. you don't know how long i've waited to do this again, minjeongie. god, i love your pussy so much. nobody could ever compare." jimin says through gritted teeth, before slamming back in.

minjeong's eyes rolled to the back of her head after the rough intrusion.

it was irrefutable at this point.

her body felt lighter than ever as her sister rammed into her with such harshness, hitting a sweet spot repeatedly inside her throbbing cunt and with each thrust, her tightening pussy engulfed the cock whole, squeezing it so deliciously.

they both groan at the feeling.

minjeong couldn't do anything but whimper and cry. a series of unsuccessful revolts were made, bound hands twisting uselessly against her spine while her face remained pressed on the grass. her vision blurred, but her hands did not stop their frantic prying. a couple of minutes of back and forth and it bore fruit; with a sudden twist of her shoulders, she broke clasp, wrists slipping free from her sister's custody but such triumph felt like a cruel joke.

because jimin only pushed her down the loam further, and it was as clear as day that she was no match to her strength, rending her small victory meaningless. her liberated hands had lost their purpose; they could only reach out to grip the wet earth flanking her ears, fingers scraping through the damp moss. her vision tunneled at her right hand and saw dirt accumulating inside her once unblemished nails.

how dirty. a mockery, is what it was. showing how soiled she had become. filthy. rugged to the bone.

"you used to love this," jimin whispered, chest cheaving as she leaned down, lips pressing open-mouthed, bruising kisses into the pale skin of minjeong's neck. "you used to beg me to fill you right in the dirt. tell me you still want it, minjeongie."

she does, she realizes. shamelessly, without regard to her moral ground now. she does. but she doesn't say it. because if she admits to it, says it out loud, the last filament of restraint she still possessed might just slip from her grasp, lose that final thread keeping her from unraveling completely.

maybe she really had wanted her sister to fuck her like this after all. to go on ravishing her thus, today and tomorrow, and on and on through the days, the weeks, and the years that would follow, until time itself had worn thin.

she wanted her come, her weight on top of her. her pink, veiny cock shoved deep inside her pussy, leaving her full and sated.

such an acceptance of desire, so shameful in its sweetness, brought forth humiliation too brazen to even think about. she's simply too full to even care anymore.

jimin's ravaging her with no mercy, her fat cock hitting the right spot consistently and ruthlessly and minjeong, and her frail body, and her teeny tender mental is breaking—cutting ties with her own sense of logic.

"unnie—nggh… i… mhmm-you're breaking me—"

"but isn't that what you wanted? god—fuck i love you minjeong—"

minjeong wept and wept. the tears came, stubborn and uncontrollable. they were, after all, the last and only language her body still remembered at this point. she became an empty shell of nothings and projections and broken dreams, shattered memories at the seams.

her eyes wandered to the distance for a moment, slipping to the far-off sky-blue expanse where the clouds drifted in near-invisible unison. perhaps it was necessary. for her to be here and nowhere at once. perhaps, no longer a person she must be.

after crying for so long, her body had nothing left to give. the tears ran themselves dry. after all that defiance, she let go.

"u-unnie—" her voice devoid of rebellion, body at the brink of exhaustion, she whimpers.

some detached, floating fragment she became in the arms of her very own sister, succumbing to their forbidden coupling—her own skin eagerly drinking in the very poison she claimed to loathe.

how strange. almost obscene, that such surrender, this depravity should contain its own sweetness, like defeat was merely another ornament of such forbidden desire.

"you're mine minjeongie—" jimin praises by her ears, licking its tips. she could feel her harsh breathing, the warmth of her mouth, caressing the fleshy lower part of her ear. she coos, commending her submissiveness; how much of a good girl she is now. she did so, as she had now claimed her. owned her. jimin maintained the relentless pace, making sure she had minjeong all to herself. "this pussy? mine."

and minjeong—just like that, was brought back on earth. she's losing it. she is losing it. any minute now.

she could feel her insides throbbing—a rotten kindling, sending flames straight to the ceiling of her skull.

and then, she smiles. a twisted little thing, perched on lips still damp with tears, bruised into pink and red by crying. she had accepted her fate. she wanted to come, fulfill that ignoble, ardent, sinful dream both she and her sister had.

"u-unnie… nggh—y-yours—fuck me—"

a couple more thrusts and then finally, a wretched, flailing poetry she had become.

she shook violently as it approached unbidden. her heavy lids fluttered, pupils sliding entirely out of sight as her eyes rolled back into her head, turning her gaze inward to witness her own undoing.

she's her own accomplice now, shuddering and collapsing, intoxicated from forbidden realities she had let herself live in.

she came, fully drowning in ecstasy, body convulsing in a series of desperate spasms, and jimin did not even stop. she pounds into her tiny body, each thrust growing shallow, yet never faltering in its speed, insisting on stealing the honey of her spasms.

"just like that minjeongie—ah… come for me," jimin whispered as she tightened her hold on her, pulling her back flush against her sweaty chest.

she's close. minjeong can tell. her body remembered. and gods, she loves it. she loves it, she loves it, she loves it.

surely, they had gone, by now, well past the last outpost of nefarious consequence, past even the pale shadow decency still cast over them, and they, like savages, unburdened of their civilizing pretenses, no longer cared at all.

"fuck—i'm gonna come inside—i'll fill you up. take it—" jimin stuttered. a thrust and then two before she felt it. all of it—her sister's scalding hot seed filling her up to the brim.

and it did not stop there.

jimin's hand clamped down on minjeong's bare waist, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh, and minjeong knew it would leave dark purple prints on the skin, marking her but she let it be. it simply just hurt so good. like a mindless sex toy, only mewls and whines came from her mouth as her sister resumed her rhythm. a deep slide, fucking her quivering hole raw.

the sun began its slow descent, painting the weathered dock and the waters of the lake in stripes of amber and bruised purple.

but they remained locked in their own sanctuary of a fever dream. their coupling continued and there were other rounds. many rounds.

at one point, jimin had pulled her up from the muddy grass, refusing to let her rest as if to make time for the lost years spent away from each other. she had carried minjeong and minjeong, whose mind had gone, securely wrapped her legs around jimin's waist, arms clinging to her sister's broad and now sweaty naked shoulders. the polo shirt she was wearing lay, drenched, on the wet patch of grass beneath their conjoined bodies.

she had felt so small, so light, so completely held, her body bouncing helplessly against jimin's pelvis with every stroke, her mounds rubbing against jimin's own.

she had sobbed, but now, with such breathless joy, her long ginger hair in a messy heap as her sister claimed her again and again.

she was her unnie's now. or perhaps, she had always been.