Work Text:
Credits to rach for this beautiful photo.🐳
The past week had been merciless.
Stacks of documents rose on Hanbada’s desks like skyscrapers, higher even than the infamous mountain from the Sodeokdong case. Attorney Woo Youngwoo read until her eyes blurred, parsing clause after clause with the precision of a surgeon. Lee Junho, ever steady at her side, kept her fueled with gimbap and tea, highlighted passages for her attention, reminded her to stretch her shoulders, and occasionally remarked, “Attorney Woo, even whales need to surface for air.”
By Friday night, both of them were utterly spent. The endless piles of paperwork were finally behind them, and for the first time all week, they could breathe. Saturday morning arrived like a quiet relief, a whole day stretching before them, reserved for nothing but rest and each other.
Still, one dilemma remained: should they stay tangled in bed, catching up on sleep, or get up and make the most of their weekend?
“We have to get out of bed eventually,” Youngwoo murmured, her voice muffled as she pushed her eye mask to her forehead. “To eat, and to do our normal bodily functions.”
Junho groaned in mock protest, tightening his arm around her for a moment longer. “True,” he conceded with a smile. “Maybe we should at least change out of our pajamas into house wear. Then we can decide whether to be productive… or stay horizontal all day.”
Youngwoo wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck. Junho pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before scooping her up with ease, carrying her bridal-style to her dresser and setting her down gently before moving to his own. Outside, the cool autumn light filtered through the curtains, perfect for comfortable sweaters and quiet plans.
They dressed in companionable silence, but when they turned at the same time, both froze.
Junho grinned, tilting his head. “So we both picked stripes, huh? Guess that makes us… partners in line.”
Youngwoo blinked. “Partners… in line?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Yeah. Because no matter how many stripes there are, I’ll always want to be the one standing right next to you.”
Her fingers paused at her cuffs. “Statistically, standing next to someone is a matter of spatial probability.” She paused, then continued softly, with the faintest blush on her cheeks, “But if it is you… I would prefer the probability to be one hundred percent.”
Junho’s grin melted into something warmer. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, eyes tender.
“Breakfast, then?” He asked.
“Yes,” she agreed. “If we do not eat, our glucose levels will decrease, resulting in lower concentration.”
“Spoken like a true attorney,” he teased. “Alright. Breakfast first. Partners in stripes means partners in the kitchen too.”
She gave him a small, amused wink and followed him out.
In the kitchen, Youngwoo measured grounds and brewed coffee with her usual precision while Junho hummed and shaped neat triangles of Dong Geurami gimbap: seaweed-wrapped rice with scrambled eggs and kimchi, simple but comforting, just the way she liked it.
Over breakfast, they lingered longer than usual. Between bites and sips, they debated what to do with their day.
“We could get massages,” Junho suggested.
Youngwoo wrinkled her nose. “I dislike strangers touching me. Their pressure would be unpredictable, and my sensory system would be overwhelmed.”
“Right. No strangers,” Junho nodded. “What about a whale documentary marathon?”
Her eyes lit briefly before dimming. “We have already watched all of them. Twice. Including the bonus behind-the-scenes features.”
Junho chuckled. “Of course we have.” He leaned back, thinking. “Then maybe… something simple.”
Their suggestions dwindled into silence. That was when Youngwoo’s gaze shifted toward the bookshelf in the corner of the living room. Her eyes lingered there, thoughtful and bright.
Junho followed her line of sight and smiled. “Books?”
She gave a small, decisive nod. “Reading together is low in stimulation, high in enjoyment. It is an optimal choice.”
Junho chuckled. “Optimal, huh? Then it’s settled. Partners in stripes, partners in breakfast… and now, partners in pages.”
Her lips curved just slightly, but enough to make his chest swell. With a grin, he gathered their empty mugs and plates, carrying them to the sink while she wandered toward the shelf.
Her fingertips brushed lightly along the spines, pausing at the middle shelf where Junho’s books on interior design, calligraphy, and photography sat. He had always been drawn to art and beauty, building a quiet portfolio in his spare time. If she could spend hours talking about whales, then photography was certainly his version of whale talk. A thought flickered: perhaps it would be fun to dive into something he loved.
Meanwhile, Junho watched her choice as he joined her in the living room. Just when he thought he couldn’t love his wife more, she would do something small and thoughtful that made his heart sing.
He reached for a book himself. He had already read most of her marine life and law books , but one volume caught his eye, a dense book on brain surgery she’d recently finished. Lately, she had been fascinated with the subject after defending a client involved in underground operations. It wasn’t his style, but her enthusiasm for it had been infectious — her late-night ramblings, her eyes sparkling as she explained the case they’d worked on. Even if the subject made his head spin, her excitement made him curious enough to try.
Soon, they were settled on the floor by the shelf, slippers touching, books in hand. Hours slipped past unnoticed. They didn’t bother with the couch or with words, just the quiet rhythm of turning pages, broken only when Junho slipped away to fetch them snacks.
Later, the afternoon light shifted across the floor, painting stripes of sun to match their sweaters. Still, they read on, content in the silence.
At one point, Junho closed his book and leaned just slightly toward her, watching the way her brows furrowed in focus. The text in his lap was remarkable, yes, but the sight of her — eyes wide, lips parted in awe at every turn — was far more captivating.
“Careful, Attorney Woo,” he murmured, voice low with affection. “At this rate, I’ll fall for you again every time you turn a page.”
Youngwoo blinked, then answered with her usual calm logic that only made his grin widen. “Then I will read slowly. So you do not run out of pages.”
Junho laughed softly, threading his fingers through hers. She did not look away from her book, but she didn’t let go either.
Between the books, the stripes, and the quiet, they found exactly the rest they needed: a different kind of harbor, written in their own lines.
🐳🐬📚🐬🐳