Work Text:
That day, it was snowing, which was sort of unusual.
The bookstore was quiet now, snow kept coming down outside the big front windows, turning the street into something soft and blurred. It was Christmas Eve, well past closing, and the last person out had been that older lady who always bought the same Beatrix Potter book for her grandkids.
Mina was still behind the counter, counting the till like she always did. Her sweater was pushed up at the sleeves, her dark hair tied back loose enough that a few pieces kept falling into her eyes. She didn’t bother brushing them away anymore; she just tucked them behind her ear every few minutes and kept going.
The little tree they’d stuck in the kids’ corner had dropped a couple of needles onto the floor, and the string lights along the shelves gave everything this warm, golden look that made the whole place feel smaller than it was.
Chaeyoung was messing around near the back, putting away the picture books people had pulled out during story hour earlier. She had her own personalized beanie (the one Mina had crocheted for her birthday) half-on, half-off, and there was still a streak of gold paint on her wrist from painting the window that morning. Of course, Chaeyoung was a frustrated artist. She’d done this whole winter scene with foxes in scarves and tiny houses with smoke coming out the chimneys. And that made her immensely happy, to the point Mina would notice and would occasionally tell her that, at 26, she wasn’t late at all to pursue that career. Unfortunately, the younger would never listen, or at least pretend she didn’t
She hummed under her breath while she worked, some Christmas song from the radio, probably “All I Want For Christmas is You” or “Santa Tell Me”, and every now and then she’d do a little spin or bounce on her toes just because the floor creaked in the right spot.
Sometimes Mina would question why Chaeyoung was here at all. She glanced up when Chaeyoung dropped a stack of books a little too hard. “Hey, careful,” she said, soft, the way she always did when Chaeyoung got too carried away.
Chaeyoung looked over and grinned. “They’re sturdy. They can handle it.” She picked up the last one (The Polar Express, of course) and carried it to the display table. She set it down just right, straightened it twice, and stepped back like she was admiring her own work. “There. Now it looks like it belongs.”
Mina finished with the drawer, locked it, and came around the counter. She didn’t say anything for a minute, just stood there watching Chaeyoung fuss with the books. It was something she’d done a hundred times: watch Chaeyoung move through the shop like she owned every corner of it, turning ordinary things into something worth looking at twice.
Chaeyoung caught her staring and tilted her head. “What?”
“Nothing,” Mina said. She looked away, down at her hands, then back up. “You missed a spot on your wrist.”
Chaeyoung held up her arm, saw the paint, and laughed. “Oh yeah. Battle scar from the great fox-painting war of 2025.” She rubbed at it with her thumb, which only smeared it more. “Guess it’s staying.”
The radio was still playing low, some slow version of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” now. Chaeyoung listened for a second, then held out her hand without thinking too hard about it. “Come on. One dance before we freeze in here.”
They’d done this before, a couple times when the shop was empty and the mood was right. Nothing serious, just swaying in place while the music played. Mina hesitated like she always did, but stepped forward and took Chaeyoung’s hand. Her fingers were cold; Chaeyoung’s were warm from holding coffee cups all day.
Certainly, Mina would only do this with one person in the world. And her name must’ve been Son Chaeyoung, be 5’2, and have too many tattoos to the point kids would stop and stare at her, pointing at her arms sometimes.
Chaeyoung pulled her in gently, not too close at first, just enough to move together. They drifted between the shelves, past the poetry section and the new releases, stepping around a couple stray books someone had left on the floor. Mina let her eyes close for a second. She could feel Chaeyoung’s heartbeat through her sweater, and it made her own speed up to match.
They ended up near the front, under the arch that led to the storage room. Chaeyoung had hung that stupid plastic mistletoe there weeks ago as a joke, said it was for “ambiance” and to «bring new customers, trust me». Neither of them had brought it up since.
Chaeyoung noticed it first. She stopped moving, looked up, then down at Mina with this half-laugh that died pretty quick. “Oh. Right. That thing’s still there.”
Mina looked up too. Her stomach did a slow flip. She’d walked under it a dozen times and never thought twice. Now it felt like the whole shop was waiting.
Chaeyoung started to step back. “We can just ignore it. It’s dumb anyway-”
But Mina had other plans. Letting go of her now wasn’t one. She reached up instead, slow enough that Chaeyoung could move if she wanted to, and touched the side of her face. Just her fingertips at first, then her whole palm against Chaeyoung’s cheek. Chaeyoung’s eyed lit up, a soft smile in her fleshy lips that stood besides her beauty mark. It was sweet having her this close.
Mina leaned in and kissed her forehead, soft and careful, right where a few strands of hair had fallen across her skin. She stayed there a second longer than she needed to, breathing in smell of paint, coffee, her white lotus fragrance and the cold from outside still clinging to Chaeyoung’s jacket.
When she pulled back, Chaeyoung was looking at her like she’d never quite seen her before. “That’s… not usually how mistletoe works,” she said, voice low.
“I know,” Mina answered. Her hand was still on Chaeyoung’s face. “I- I didn’t want to rush.”
Chaeyoung frowned, but turned her head just enough to press her lips against Mina’s palm. It was quick, barely there, but it felt like everything.
After that, they finished closing up without talking much. Turned off the lights one by one, grabbed their coats, locked the door. The street was empty, just the glow from the holiday lights strung along the lampposts and the quiet crunch under their feet.
As usual, they walked side by side, close enough that their shoulders brushed sometimes. Halfway down the block, Mina reached over and slipped her hand into Chaeyoung’s coat pocket. Chaeyoung didn’t say anything, just shifted so their fingers could fit together properly, warm skin against warm skin.
At the corner, under one of those old streetlamps with the colored bulbs, Chaeyoung suddenly stopped. She tugged Mina around gently until they were facing each other. Snowflakes were catching in their hair, melting slow on their eyelashes.
This time Chaeyoung went up on her toes, and Mina met her halfway. Their lips touched, delicate and a little hesitant at first. It tasted like peppermint from the tea they’d shared earlier (Mina’s pick) and the unknown but immaculate flesh, and a hint of someone’s hydrating lip balm. When they pulled apart, they didn’t go far, just stayed there, hugging, breathing the same breath.
Chaeyoung laughed once, victory rushing through her veins. Her smile was genuine, displaying her canines and meeting her eyes. She’d wished for this ever since Mina was hired almost a year ago. “Jeez, definitely the best closing shift I’ve ever had.”
Mina smiled against her mouth, almost rolling her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Chaeyoung.”
“Merry Christmas, Mina.”
They kept walking after that, hands still tangled in Chaeyoung’s pocket, snow falling all around them like the world had decided to give them a little more time before morning came.