Because She

February 12, 2014 in drabblerbabbler, superricelol by superRiCElol

Sometimes she wished she’d had an older sister.

She didn’t have to be an older sister that was nice all the time, or a sister that always made time for her, or a sister that would leave all the good food and snacks for her.

She just had to be older.

She just had to be older, so that sense of security was there if she ever got a nightmare – can I sleep with you?

Her hands clutched at the pillow, mangling the cloth cover with dread. The stress of the day still hadn’t left her, and apparently neither had her everyday fears left her dreams. But a single, hushed, hey settled her fears as she huddled in close under the opened blanket. “You’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be alright.”

 

She just had to be older, so that role model was there – older brothers could be role models too, but it just wasn’t the same.

That bold, sometimes-a-bit-too-bold confidence was amazing. Sure, it got her into trouble sometimes – and she would have to save the loud girl – but it was a confidence she wanted to have as well. And her heart was probably made of at least silver (because she could be just a bit vain, sometimes). Maybe when her heart turned to gold, she could learn to make hers silver.

 

She just had to be older, so that intimacy wasn’t awkward – okay Oppa I’m going to hug you – you’re going to what?!

Break time meant pulling out her phone and playing one of the games she’d recently installed. And sometimes, when she wasn’t putting in extra practice (most of the time she was going over the steps again, to get them down soundly when all the other girls had learned them quicker), she would lean on her and watch her play. It was nice and comfortable, until the “Hah, you died!” came out. Then it wasn’t nice. But it was still comfortable.

 

She just had to be older, so that girl business could be discussed – so, anyone you like, yet?

A hand nudged at her shoulder, trying to turn her around on her rolling chair. “Ttae-ttae, have you ever liked a guy?” No, no guy in her affections. “I think I like this guy.” What’s he like? “Well…”

 

But she eventually learned that really, the age didn’t matter. Everything she’d wanted in an older sister she’d never had, came in the form of a somehow-just-centimeters-taller, loud and outspoken, bold and kind-hearted, clumsy but considerate girl with a heart of silver-going-on-gold. So she was the older one, the smaller one who got to huddle in safety after a nightmare; the one who was the recipient of random touches of affection and sisterly intimacy; the one who grudgingly listened to squeals of admiration and sighs of I think I’m in love (what boyfriend?); the one who often made a fool of herself to make sure those tears didn’t track down her beautiful face. So she didn’t get to have an older sister. So what? The age didn’t matter.

Because she got to have Tiffany, and that was all that mattered.
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because who doesn’t like tiffeni hweng