Work Text:
“Momo!”
Uh-oh.
“Hirai Momo, where the hell are you?”
Well…
There’s no movement or sound for the next five seconds, leaving Momo to her devices again. She can almost taste it. She’s hungry, thirsty and above all, desperate. It’s been a good twelve or thirteen hours since her last meal so yes, a little bite of this sweet goodness is more than deserved. Momo doesn’t recall the last time she was left to indulge in her fantasies of feeding off a delicacy; she needs to make the best out of this opportunity before she loses it.
“There you are, you little shit.”
Momo’s hand stops in mid-air, eyes widening like a deer in headlights; she’s been found.
“Give me that.”
“No…” Momo whines, hugging the box of macarons to her chest. She makes it a point to flash her puppy eyes, hoping to thwart the angry woman’s oncoming murder attempts. “Jihyo, I feel terrible without them. You know I need the sugar!”
Jihyo’s left brow goes up, displeasure written all over that beautiful face of hers; she leans against the kitchen counter with one hand on her hip, waiting for another onslaught of excuses. It’s coming to three in the morning but they’re not sleeping soundly like normal humans do; of course, she’s mildly annoyed. Momo is crouched behind the kitchen island with a box of macarons in her arms, dressed in the Monsters’ Inc pyjamas Jihyo gifted for her birthday.
“Ji…”
Oh, but of course.
Momo purposefully wraps one arm around Jihyo’s bare thigh, looking up at the younger woman with a pout.
“Why are you acting like I’m depriving you of food, baby?” Jihyo groans and bends down to cup her girlfriend’s face. “If you weren’t running a fever and having a sore throat, I wouldn’t be keeping these away from you.”
With a disgruntled groan, Momo breaks eye contact with Jihyo. “My fever is almost gone. You made me lie in bed and eat plain porridge for three days straight, can you blame me for wanting sugar?”
Jihyo pulls back with narrowed eyes, putting a notable distance between them. “Oh, so it’s my fault for wanting you to get well quickly? I see how it is.”
“No… come back here.” Momo makes grabby hands at Jihyo, completely disregarding the macarons that she painstakingly snuck downstairs to get. She presses kisses along Jihyo’s knuckles, “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you – maybe I love your personal nurse outfit more but the point – ow, ow!”
Stupid, stupid woman.
Momo is running a fever and still thinking of Jihyo in that one outfit she rented for Halloween which, obviously, resulted in them spending the night in instead of going to Sana’s party – how predictable. It happened two years ago but she vividly recalls the way Momo’s eyes darkened, pupils dilated before jumping her bones. Frankly, the nurse outfit was too flimsy and terribly sewn by Jihyo’s standards but it clearly did the work it was apparently cut out for.
Jihyo swore she came downstairs to bring Momo back to bed, instead she finds herself sitting on the floor with the latter’s head on her lap in the wee hours of the morning.
With her fingers combing Momo’s bangs neatly, Jihyo can’t help but flick her nose. “I still can’t believe you snuck out of bed just to get your macarons. They’re not going to run away while you recuperate, you know.”
“I can’t survive without sugar.”
“Fine, you win. I’m not about to argue with a baby.”
Momo bites the exposed skin of Jihyo’s tummy at the comment, following up with several pinches to her waist till an imaginary light bulb appears over her head.
“On second thought, I’m not arguing with that. I am your baby and have been since I asked you out so really, you didn’t say anything untrue.”
The couple bask in the moments of extreme tranquility, their banter coming to a halt once Momo begins to yawn. She tried her best to fight off the drowsiness from her medication and stay up till Jihyo fell asleep, only to get caught before she even got a bite.
“Shall we at least move to the sofa?”
“Momo?”
Then Jihyo hears the gentle snores elicited from Momo’s open mouth, a speck of drool dripping onto her sweatpants. A good six years ago, Jihyo might have found it disgusting and thrown the woman off her lap; they’ve gotten into big fights for less. Reaching a stage in a romantic relationship where there’s nothing to be ashamed of, letting down all inhibitions and insecurities is a notable feat that strokes Jihyo’s ego. In an era where everyone desires fun with no strings attached, she and Momo have withstood the test of time and turbulence.
She gently pushes Momo’s jaw up, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, my love.”
*
Is that the smell of chicken broth?
Spring onions… kimchi…
The hunger pangs cause Momo’s tummy to rumble before her eyelids flutter open; there’s nothing quite like waking up to the smell of knife-cut noodles being prepared under (above) her nose. She groans at the dull ache in her back, consequences of sleeping on the floor hitting her at full force.
“Good morning, sleeping cow.” Jihyo stirs the soup meticulously, her muscle-tank clad back facing Momo. “I’m surprised you managed to snore on the hard wooden floor.”
“I smell food.”
Momo is off the floor within seconds and latched to Jihyo’s back like a koala, her nose nuzzled into her neck. “Did you work out without me? What happened to staying fit together?”
Jihyo unconsciously tilts her head, welcoming her clingy girlfriend’s kisses. “I’d rather not have to pick you up from the floor if you pass out. You’ve been sick for a few days now so your work-out can wait. I’ll get lazy if I don’t follow my routine.” She swats Momo’s hand with an uncut spring onion when she feels a naughty hand on her butt. “No hanky panky in the kitchen or I’m not giving you any kisses.”
Throwing herself against the counter with a dramatic groan, Momo mumbles something along the lines of ‘you know what you’re doing with that tank top’. She feigns nonchalance when she hears Jihyo giggle, patting her lower back with the same spring onion earlier.
“Go and wash up. Lunch will be ready by the time you come down.”
Momo finally looks up, pointing at her cheek.
“What?”
A more exaggerated point, this time accompanied with a glare.
“Oh my God…” Jihyo mutters, finally taking the shamelessly big hint. She puts aside her knife and removes the plastic glove, grabbing Momo by the neck to plant a wet sloppy kiss on her cheek. “There, now go before I kick your ass.”
Momo woke up feeling like a champ, fever non-existent and her girlfriend’s cooking lunch right this moment – yeah, it’s going to be an amazing fucking day. She waltzes into the bathroom, the silliest grin crawling up her face when she finds her toothbrush prepared with a cup of water beside it. Her black, thin-framed glasses are already hanging off the metal, waiting for Momo to put them on as she always does when they're not working.
Their friends always accuse Momo of having a mommy kink and they play along but Jihyo simply enjoys pampering her. If Jihyo wants to spoil her then who’s Momo to deprive her of that?
“I’m starving.” Momo’s mouth waters at the sight of two piping hot bowls of noodles and several side dishes in the middle.
Jihyo points at her girlfriend with a pair of chopsticks, “come here before you sit down.”
Momo groans when Jihyo begins to feel her up – not in the way she desires – in a bid to check her temperature; she feels peachy but Jihyo won’t believe it. “I am fine. Can we please just eat the lunch you’ve prepared and cuddle after?”
It takes a little bit more to convince Jihyo she’s as fine as she can be before they finally get to dig in. Momo can’t explain how else to describe the food other than it’s heavenly, although because Jihyo made it from scratch.
“It’s delicious, Ji.”
“Yeah? You should thank Jeongyeon then; I was on the phone with her for almost two hours to get the recipe and steps.” Jihyo beams with pride; receiving a compliment for something that’s not her strong suit always feels good. “I could hear Sana whining about the lack of kisses in the background.”
“Well, that’s hardly surprising.”
Getting to sit down and actually have a meal together is a luxury with how fast their pace of life is in their respective companies. It’s one of the things Momo learned to cherish instead of taking for granted, and she never made the same mistake again. Jihyo reigns control in the law firm and delegates orders to her subordinates, yet makes sure she brings none of it home. She takes Momo’s words to heart and puts down her pride whenever needed.
It’s just one of the reasons they work.
Jihyo takes the initiative to put on one of their favourite movies, throwing down a duvet on the extensive sofa.
“Babe! Can you get the chips?”
Momo comes in with several bags of chips and a glass of strawberry juice for Jihyo, relishing the wide-eyed surprise on her face. “You were craving it during your period but we didn’t have any so I had some delivered, just didn’t have time to open the box.” She sets the items down before sitting against the armrest, opening her arms for Jihyo to slot herself in.
Afternoons like this can’t beat any form of vice or reward. Achievements or monetary compensation at work don’t compare to this very moment, having her girlfriend in her arms peacefully while the world continues to move outside their very window.
“I’ve watched this at least five times and I’ll say it every time; this disease is so cruel. I don’t think I’d even have the determination to move, much less write a diary every day.”
Jihyo looks up at Momo, her nose still buried into the older woman’s sweater. “Why do you watch this so often when you know it makes you bawl at the end of it?”
Momo maintains her silence and Jihyo worries she shouldn’t have asked. She can’t say she doesn’t know enough about Momo because that simply isn’t true, but the latter has her moments of reflection too.
“It’s a reminder of how lucky I am to be healthy. I’m blessed to have a family, amazing friends and you – God, I have you to love.” Momo whispers, unconsciously tightening her embrace. She finally tears her gaze away from the television, looking down at Jihyo. “It’s incredibly heartbreaking; I put myself in her shoes and I realise I can’t do it like she did but everyday I wake up in reality with you by my side and I thank whoever’s up there.”
A tear slips from the corner of Momo’s eye and she visibly chokes up. “It hits me then that I can’t imagine life without you but if something like that happens, I hope you find happiness with or without me.”
The emotional range and depth Momo possesses gives Jihyo whiplash sometimes; she has never fully expressed the reason behind her obsession with this movie.
“Oh, Momo… Come here.”
If it isn’t due to the fact they always exchange their yearly medical results, Jihyo would highly suspect that Momo is hiding a terminal disease from her. She knows it is a possibility so they made a pact; Momo would open her envelope and vice versa after they get checked together.
“You’re such a softie.” Jihyo combs her fingers through Momo’s platinum blonde locks, kissing her head tenderly. She can’t help but chuckle at the odd turn of events. “I love you, you big oaf. We’re going to be just fine, now stop overthinking. We’re healthy, we’re happy – we’re okay, baby.”
Momo swallows shakily with bated breaths, listening to Jihyo’s steady heartbeat. She too is taken aback by her own reaction; they’ve watched the movie together more than once but she has never felt this overwhelmed before. For the first time, Momo wonders when she started falling in love with Jihyo. It feels like it was only yesterday they celebrated their first anniversary together. It’s easy to pinpoint the moment they moved from just ‘like’ to ‘love’ but from ‘love’ to beyond that?
Jihyo’s free hand slides underneath Momo’s t-shirt, rubbing the small of her back. “Are you sure you don’t want to watch Toy Story or something? I hate seeing you cry.”
A few seconds of silence pass, background noise from the television echoing in the living room.
“You know I cry during Toy Story too, right?”
Kyoto; the city that’s known for the beauty of its seasons and stunning landscapes – Momo’s hometown. The trees and pavement are covered in white, snow falling from the sky like confetti despite it being fairly uncommon in the city prefecture. Momo would like to live in the illusion of it snowing simply because Jihyo is in the city and not from the effects of global warming. It’s believable too; the last time they were here, it snowed rather heavily as well.
“Okaasan!”
“Jihyo!”
Mrs. Hirai welcomes Jihyo with the warmest embrace, a stark contrast to the heavy snow splattering against the roof. She quickly throws a blanket around the young woman, rubbing her shoulders to generate some warmth.
“Go and get your father, Momoring. I think he’s in the garage.”
There’s no response from the latter, and she doesn’t follow them into the kitchen either. Mrs. Hirai points in the direction of the dog beds with a sigh; her younger daughter has no perception of anything once she sees her three babies. Of course, that’s probably one of the two reasons why Momo pays no heed to her request.
“I’ll get her, Okaasan. We’ll be there.”
Jihyo reenters the living room and stands behind her girlfriend, caressing the top of Momo’s head. “Babe, you’re making those faces again.”
Momo hums in response, expression going awry once more as she rewards Lucky, Pudding and Petco for every command they follow successfully. For years, she’s only been able to see them through Facetime or a video call with one of the reasons being the coronavirus. Jihyo was promoted not long after restrictions were lifted and she encouraged Momo to visit her hometown even if she couldn’t but Momo refused – her mother was waiting for Jihyo to come.
“We can play with them later, Momo. Let’s have dinner with your parents first.”
“Okay…” Momo drags her words before breaking into a laugh when Pudding barks, desperately reaching for the snack in her hand. “Sorry, baby… here you go.”
By the time Jihyo and Momo are at the dining table, Mr. and Mrs. Hirai are already seated with plenty of food laid out for them. Jihyo goes over to greet Momo’s father with a deep bow and a handshake, preventing him from getting up with that bad back. Momo, on other hand, doesn’t spare more than a glance and a curt greeting; she still places a few slices of beef onto his side plate though.
Dinner is rather… tense, and Mrs. Hirai continues to form new topics repeatedly.
“What are your plans tomorrow, Jihyo?”
“We’re planning to go to the Fushimi Inari Shrine and the Toji Temple if we have time.” Jihyo exclaims, having done her research on both tourist locations on the short flight. “Do you and Otousan want to join us? We’re setting out in the morning.”
Before either of Momo’s parents get to voice their wants, Momo pushes back from the table. “I have to use the bathroom. Please excuse me.”
Jihyo glances down at her girlfriend’s bowl, a fair portion of udon still floating in the soup. Didn’t Momo say she was starving on the way here? She doesn’t know the full rundown, but Momo previously dropped hints about not being on good terms with her father and the next visit is purely for her mother and the family dogs. That was almost five years ago – hasn’t Momo attempted to patch things up within that duration?
While half-tempted to go and check on Momo, Jihyo doesn’t miss the exchanging of looks between the older couple. Mrs. Hirai rubbing the back of her husband’s back with a soft ‘give her time’ tells Jihyo more than she needs to know.
“Jihyo, I want you to know that Momo has every reason to be upset with her father. They had a very… heated exchange the last time she came home and well, she refused to look at him ever since. Take care of her while you two are staying, even if it’s for three days.”
In the bedroom filled with her childhood memories, Momo sits on the floor with her back against the bed. A wave of nostalgia always crashes down on her whenever she’s back home; it’s no different this time.
“Baby?”
Momo looks up and feels a weight lift from her shoulders just by seeing Jihyo. She reaches out to squeeze her hand. “Did you enjoy the food? Okaasan is a great cook.”
“I did and I agree… Can’t say the same for you though. For someone who loves eating, this is really out-of-character.” Jihyo takes a seat beside Momo, linking their arms when Momo rests her head on her shoulder. “You know I don’t like forcing you to open up but it’s been years and you still haven’t… Talk to me, Momo.”
“Is that my youngest princess?”
Momo blushes a pretty pink at the endearment, swatting off Sana and Mina’s grabby hands at her. She should have known her father’s antics would become ammo for her childhood friends to use against her.
“Otousan!”
“Princess!”
Sana and Mina are greeted by Mrs. Hirai, exchanging hugs and cheek kisses.
It’s the first time in two years they’re able to return home during the summer break since they left Japan to study in Korea, having clinched scholarships with their stellar grades here. Momo was shortlisted for a law programme, Sana in social sciences and Mina in medical school. Instead of having to travel from another city like Sana is here, they decided to get an apartment together in Korea for both practical and financial purposes.
“Sana, honey, you’re glowing… did you meet someone while you’re in school?” Mrs. Hirai teases.
Sana’s cheeks and ears turn red at the speed of light, shielding her face at Mrs. Hirai’s clapping. “I did… Do you want to see a picture, Okaasan?”
Momo and Mina watch their best friend with a melting gaze, sincerely happy for Sana finally meeting her person. She begins rambling about Im Nayeon – campus belle and predicted valedictorian of the Humanities school – being nothing short of perfect. Mina is not exempt from the question and she too quietly admits she has her eye on a certain lanky, short-haired athlete who’s quite the menace.
It won’t be long before she’s asked as well.
“What about you, Momoring?”
Momo sheepishly hands her phone over, showing off her favourite picture. “Um… we’re not official yet but we’ve been seeing each other since the first semester…”
Mr. Hirai looks pleasantly surprised at the revelation, but nods approvingly at the picture while Mrs. Hirai is over the moon. She’s already asking questions about moving in together and settling down.
“I’m planning to pursue law there. Jihyo said I can move into her dorm if Sana and Mina don’t plan to find a job there. We might even find the same company to intern at.”
The dining table falls silent with Momo’s words, both her parents donning indecipherable expressions. They’ve always known Momo to be the more timid one between their daughters, never wanting to stay in unknown places by herself. She even spent the first week crying every night because she was homesick. Fast forward two years later, suddenly she has plans to stay in Korea… because of a girl?
“I thought you wanted to practice law here. Shouldn’t you have at least discussed with us before deciding to settle down in Korea with a girl you’re not even dating yet?”
Momo puts her utensils down and clasps her hands together respectfully. “I’m sorry to spring this on you both, but I know what I want. Otousan, you said I should mature and have aspirations of my own. What am I doing wrong now?”
Sana nearly leaps out of the chair when Mr. Hirai slams his chopsticks on the table.
“Yes, I did say that but I was referring to your career, your family – you should mature and realise that settling down because of a girl you meet in your early twenties is a silly decision! For all you know, this is just a phase and you might suddenly wake up to find you’re not exactly a lesbian either.”
Pin-drop silence.
Mrs. Hirai struggles to keep her cool at her husband’s words, praying he keeps his mouth shut before he embarrasses them all more – in front of Momo’s best friends at that.
“It is not a phase,” Momo’s voice drops to a whisper, but her eyes speak fiery volumes of rage. “If you’re homophobic, just say that instead of finding other reasons to make me feel bad about staying in Korea.”
That was the end of the conversation.
Momo didn’t breathe a word to Mr. Hirai for the entire vacation period, choosing to eat in her room or with her mother only. She still went out with Mrs. Hirai, bringing her to malls and restaurants as a dutiful daughter would.
Up till the last day, Momo didn’t say anything to her father other than a specific sentence.
“I’ll show you this isn’t a phase and she isn’t just a girl.”
“That’s… I see why you’re upset.” Jihyo cradles Momo’s head to her chest, having moved to the bed before telling her side of the story. She smiles at the petulant huff under Momo’s breath, mumbling a soft ‘exactly!’. “But I also see where your father’s coming from…”
Momo directs a pointed gaze at the younger woman, resting her body weight against Jihyo’s as she rests on her forearms. “Excuse me?”
Jihyo cups Momo’s cheek with one hand, fingers tracing a line down her defined jaw. She doesn’t want to get involved in family matters but being Momo’s girlfriend also means wanting her to be on good terms with the people she loves. Although Mrs. Hirai and Jihyo were the ones who kept the conversations going, she could tell the older woman was running out of ideas and questions to ask.
“Think about it, Momo. You never talked about your lovelife and there was no mention of me before you went home that summer. It’s normal for your father to assume that I’m the sole reason for you wanting to stay in Korea. While I do think his comments about your sexuality being a phase are overboard, but everything else – I do see his perspective.”
“Whatever…”
There’s nothing to do other than pretend Jihyo didn’t just say all that to her, so Momo tries to break the momentum by staying still in her embrace.
“Think about it, okay? I don’t want you to have any regrets in the future and I certainly don’t want my future mother-in-law to be the bridge between you two.”
Amidst the internal grumbling Momo is doing, she nearly misses the keywords in Jihyo’s sentence by a hair. She scrambles up on her knees and hovers over the latter with awe-stricken eyes, unable to hide the raw delirium in them. They’ve mentioned marriage and kids in passing but haven’t actually made any arrangements or plans, so Momo is naturally exhilarated at the sudden comment.
“Mother-in-law? You wanna marry me?”
A big, pretentious yawn is Jihyo’s response and she turns to the side with a giggle, ignoring the ‘hey!’ from her girlfriend. “I’m talking in my sleep – I’m dreaming of Sana. Goodnight, honey. Sleep tight.”
Momo spends the next fifteen minutes trying to pry an answer out of Jihyo, whining petulantly at the repeated mention of Sana’s name. A part of her is well aware Jihyo used it as a distraction, but she also knows Jihyo has a point.
In all the years she spent with her father, the man has never once shown an ounce of vulnerability in front of Momo and Hana. He takes everything within his stride, choosing to hang back and observe the situation before giving his two cents. Although he never explicitly mentioned anything about her sexuality from middle to high school, he repeatedly assured her they’d love her regardless. The comment does seem a little out of place…
Soft snores hit Momo’s ears and she’s broken from her trance, gazing down at Jihyo with unadulterated affection. She tugs the blanket up and throws the bulk of it over the latter, tucking her in.
“Goodnight, Hyo. I love you.”
***
“Baby, wake up…”
Someone’s blowing at her face.
“Momo…”
Someone’s pinching her cheeks.
When a hand slides underneath her shirt and goes past her abs up to the underside of her boob, Momo’s eyes fly open with a jolt. She gasps at the sensation of Jihyo tracing downwards to her sculpted abs with those fingernails, hair on the back of her neck standing at attention.
“Hyo…”
“Oh, you’re finally awake.” Jihyo retracts her hands like she didn’t just feel her girlfriend up, throwing herself beside Momo with a dramatic flair. “If there’s ever an earthquake, remind me to run without you because you won’t be moving a limb.”
Momo frowns at the sentiment, kicking the pillow at Jihyo. “Do you even love me? How could you even say that?”
Jihyo can’t. She literally can’t fathom how Momo can be such a cutie despite being a menace to her everyday. They say when people are in their honeymoon phase, everything their partner does is cute and has no wrong. Can a honeymoon phase last for five years and counting though? Jihyo counts her blessings every single day she wakes up to see Momo lying beside her, snoring with an open mouth.
“Of course I love you, my little drama queen. Come here.” Jihyo coaxes the sulking woman to lie on her back, swinging one leg over her waist. She can’t resist caressing Momo’s exposed midriff, biting her lower lip at the well-defined lines. “If there’s an earthquake and you’re sleeping, I’ll push you off the bed to wake you up. How does that sound?”
“Fucking hell.”
Everything happens within a millisecond, Jihyo finds herself lying on her back breathlessly as Momo stares down at her with dilated pupils. She tries not to glance at the rather… tempting sight in front of her; Momo’s position only emphasizes her plunging neckline and voluptuous body.
“You are the devil, Park.”
“Me? Oh whatever have I done, Hirai?” Jihyo whispers against Momo’s lips, arms snaking around the woman’s neck. She wraps her legs around her girlfriend’s beautiful hips, trapping Momo in her hold. “Enlighten me.”
Something akin to an animalistic instinct comes from deep within Momo’s belly, growling at the taunt, and she swoops down to capture Jihyo’s flapping mouth – sometimes she just needs to shut up. Momo shudders at the continued, albeit shameless, fondling of her abs, but it doesn’t derail her from her mission. Her lips latch to Jihyo’s pulsepoint at the nearest opportunity, sucking and nipping at her skin with a ferocity that rarely comes out.
“M-Momo… your parents are literally n-next door…”
“I guess you better keep it down then. You started this, by the way.” Momo whispers, her tongue darting out to soothe the bite mark on Jihyo’s neck. “I’m just… finishing it.”
The moment Momo's slender fingers slide underneath the waistband of her sleep shorts, Jihyo gives up.
She’ll just pray they're quiet.
“Baby, where are your parents? They’re not in the garage or garden.”
Momo laughs nervously, choosing to ignore the question while she makes them breakfast. She hears footsteps nearing the kitchen and she braces herself – the post-it is clear for the world to see.
Momoring ~
We will be eating breakfast out since we were kept up all night by you two. We’ll meet you at your favourite restaurant tonight? Have a good date with Jihyo.
“Hirai…”
“I’m sorry! Don’t kill me!”
Jihyo grabs the rag near the post-it, chasing her girlfriend around the spacious house; she’s a woman with a mission and she will get one well-deserved smack on her.
“This is so embarrassing…” Jihyo buries her face into her palms and rests her head on the cool marble table, refusing to even look at the note. “I told you so! I’ll shave my head bald before I step foot in your room, I mean it.”
Momo comes around with a glass of freshly brewed iced americano for Jihyo, whining when Jihyo refuses to kiss her good morning. She already saw this coming the moment her lips travelled below Jihyo’s abs – the woman is absolutely horrible at keeping her voice down, whether in or out of the bedroom.
No matter, Momo grabs Jihyo’s jaw and retrieves the kiss–or kisses– she so (does not) deserves.
“You’re a nuisance, you know that?”
Despite the phrase filled with audible annoyance and bite, Momo can barely see anything past Jihyo’s pink face. All these years together, Jihyo still can’t get used to Momo’s rare display of dominance.
“I love you too, now come and eat.”
Jihyo thinks she’s quite normal about her likes and dislikes.
For example, she loves when Momo is vocal about her feelings, talks about how work is kicking her ass, willing to take advice from Jihyo, her delicious abs, her dorky personality – the list goes on. As for her dislikes, it’s how stubborn Momo can be (although the same can be said for her), how she disregards herself and her strengths and turns all of it into a big fat joke.
What she doesn’t expect is to feel a certain way just by seeing Momo in the driver seat.
“Oh, wow.”
Momo looks up with puppy eyes, utterly confused at why Jihyo wasn’t getting into the car. “Babe?”
The sound of glass shattering echoes in Jihyo’s brain, effectively shaking her awake. She almost imagined Momo in a sleeveless tank top with black jeans and a pair of sunglasses in the driver’s seat, before a figurative bucket of water was poured over her head.
“Let’s go.”
Her girlfriend doesn’t change the gear, instead she leans towards Jihyo’s seat with narrowed eyes. Jihyo wonders if Momo can hear her heart hammering against her ribcage, sinking further into her seat. The smell of Momo’s citrusy, floral perfume wharfing through the car and her nostrils makes Jihyo dizzy with desire. She closes her eyes when she feels Momo’s breath against her lips, barely a millimeter away before another invisible bucket crashes against her.
“You forgot your seatbelt.”
I’m going to fucking strangle her.
***
Hiking in the cold is not Jihyo’s cup of tea in the least, but the blinding smile on Momo’s face is. The latter is not big on physical activity–safe for going to the gym thrice a week–, especially with the uneven, inclining terrain; the only energy-exerting activity that gets Momo excited is sex, literally. That being said, no complaints from Jihyo… it is without a doubt, one of her favourite things in their relationship.
“They sell udon here! Come on!”
No wonder she’s so excited, Jihyo feels her lips threatening to split at the amusement engulfing her. For a moment, she thought Momo was really into hiking but alas, food remains her true love.
“Have you thought about what I told you last night?” Jihyo carefully broaches the question when she notices Momo putting down her chopsticks. “You know, about your father…”
“Actually, I did.” Momo sounds equally surprised at her own answer; truthfully, she had no trouble sleeping but her innermost feelings came to her in the form of chaotic dreams. “Perhaps my immaturity got the best of me. In retrospect, I was so, so angry that he called it a phase and disregarded you that I refused to consider everything else.”
Jihyo’s eyes brighten at her girlfriend’s unexpected albeit speedy self-reflection, leaning over to wipe at Momo’s lips. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”
“It’s all thanks to you, Ji.” Momo puts two pieces of sushi on Jihyo’s side plate and while it might seem miniscule, she knows better – Momo never shares her sushi. “You always help me see things I missed before and before you say you don’t need credit, I want to give it to you so be quiet.”
Momo explained her plan to talk things out with her father tonight, perhaps during a slow stroll after dinner. She sheepishly asked Jihyo to keep her mother company while this is ongoing, sporting rosy cheeks at her request. For the most part, there’s nothing eventful happening till then. They have dinner with Momo’s parents, Jihyo learning more and more about Momo’s childhood atrocities like quitting ballet because she wanted bangs, or climbing over the neighbour’s fence to steal their ripe strawberries in their garden.
It’s pretty ironic because Momo doesn’t even like strawberries now; that was a phase.
Soon enough, Jihyo accompanies Mrs. Hirai to look at a souvenir shop near the seashore to give her girlfriend some space. Momo is tempted to do a couple of somersaults to get rid of her nerves and no, she can’t do a single one, but it is a good measure of the thundering quake in her chest.
“I hear from your mother you're doing incredibly well in the law firm. You've made a name for yourself.”
“I… Yeah.” Momo can’t even look her father in the eye. “It hasn’t been easy but I made it work – we made it work.”
There’s no snark in her answer, but Momo wonders if she shouldn’t have said that. She is supposed to be burying the hatchet with her father.
What does shock Momo to oblivion is her father’s prideful grin, eyes twinkling with unshed tears as he turns to face her. “I’m not surprised. Jihyo looks extremely capable and from what I can tell, a good influence on you.”
It only takes a minute for the words to sink in before an entire decade’s worth of tears cascade down her cheeks. Her father is proud of her. He isn’t criticising her choices or her sexuality in any way. Momo’s tears don’t stop and her blubbering becomes louder, muffled into her father’s jacket when he gathers her in his arms. Perhaps her anger boiled into rage precisely because she was a daddy’s girl from the beginning; she never considered the possibility of him not supporting her in any way.
“I sure hope you aren’t a crybaby around Jihyo.”
“Well, you see…”
Mr. Hirai makes a face at Momo’s less than desirable response, releasing a hearty chuckle at the loud whine that follows.
“I do owe both of you an apology though, and I plan to make good my word. You, princess, are a beautiful woman and have grown up so well and I’m sorry I ever doubted your choice. Despite what I said in the heat of the moment, I’ve never – not for a minute – thought of your sexuality as shameful.”
The tumultuous journey in her career and the hurried pace of life in South Korea didn’t allow Momo to process this range of emotions; the intangible tonnes of weight is finally gone. She relied heavily on Jihyo’s presence and silent support to get her through, but nothing can possibly replace this moment.
“This is called warabimochi.” Momo holds out a cube of jelly dusted with soybean flour in front of Jihyo, taking the cotton candy away from her. “Do you remember Mina making this and force feeding it to Jeongie?”
It’s impossible to forget the sight of Jeongyeon yelling bloody murder and kicking her legs while Mina held her in a bodylock, only accepting the treat when Mina threatened her with no sex.
“Oh, it’s yummy…” Jihyo’s knitted eyebrows invite obnoxious guffaws from Momo and she rolls her eyes, taking another mochi by herself. “Stop laughing at me!”
Jihyo flushes scarlet at the sudden throat clear from Mrs. Hirai, making their presence known – no, they didn’t go anywhere; in fact, they were sitting beside the couple all this time. It is perhaps one of the biggest reasons their friends hate going on double dates with them; Jihyo and Momo always lose themselves in each other.
Mr. Hirai pushes a plate of ice cream towards Jihyo, offering a dessert spoon to the young woman. “I’m sorry, Jihyo. I said some things that I shouldn’t have back and this is late. I hope we can start on a clean slate.”
The staggered, curt sentences in shaky Korean are proof of Mr. Hirai’s sincerity; learning another language just to apologize to her is more than enough. Hell, Jihyo would be satisfied just to be welcomed warmly or with a smile. She audibly whimpers when Mr. Hirai comes round the table to give her a comforting hug, a tear sliding down her cheek at the firm, conspicuous acceptance.
“Thank you, Otousan.”
***
“You’re such a softie, Momo.” Jihyo coos softly, running her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair.
Momo nips at Jihyo’s pulse point with a disgruntled whine, tending to the red patch with a swipe of her tongue. “You’re one to talk. You cried during dinner.”
“Shut up.”
Admittedly, Momo came home with no intention of making up with her father but she wanted to fulfil her part as a filial daughter, at least to her mother. She didn’t expect Jihyo to persuade her to do so either, knowing the latter doesn’t like to get involved in family issues all that much. Having said that, Jihyo has Momo wrapped around her pinky effortlessly.
“I’m glad you asked me to come home with you.”
“Hm?”
Jihyo leans over with a growing smile, one that could be compared to the blossoming of a flower. “I don’t think you realise how sad you look whenever you talk about your family; it could’ve been your memories with your father at the back of your head. I’ve always been curious but I wanted you to talk to me.”
It really is no surprise Momo’s past relationships never worked out the same way; she is meant to be with Jihyo. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care about marriage, but I know I want you and I’m not letting you go.
The moon hangs in the dark sky like a silver disc, lighting Momo’s childhood bedroom with ease. They can see the stars sprinkled high up in the sky, wind rustling through the trees and their branches dancing under the moonlight. With Jihyo sitting in Momo’s lap and her arms wrapped around her neck, the cute beauty mark on the tip of her nose is beautifully illuminated in the light.
“I’ve loved you for three summers, honey…”
“What?” Momo’s eyes travel towards the right, doing her mental calculations. “We’ve been together for almost five years, Jihyo. Are you feeling okay?”
Childlike laughter bubbles up from Jihyo’s throat and she can’t help but kiss Momo’s forehead. “It’s a song, baby. I know we’ve been together for 1948 days and don’t you dare make fun of me for remembering. I just wanted to say, I want all the summers with you. Three, four… whatever, I want it all.”
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