Archive of Our Own

Bora walks to the front door of her apartment, hands digging through the receipts and soggy gum wrappers in her purse to find her keys. It seems harder to find the noisy, clunky things on days like this-- where her mind is foggy and she wants nothing more than to collapse into the freshly washed linens of her empty bed. 

She sighs, clenching her jaw as the door opens. She winces.

Minji smiles at her from behind the door. 

“Hey.” She says, not expecting a response, knowing how these days go.

Bora offers a weak smile, walking past Minji like a ghost, and placing her purse on the back of whatever chair seems the closest. She hears the door shut behind her as she flops on the couch, shutting her eyes rougher than she probably should. Minji pads across the cheap carpet quietly, but not with grace. The chair on the other side of the couch squeaks as Minji sits down, the small jingle of whatever game she's obsessed with at the moment chiming from her phone speakers.

“Are you hungry?” Minji offers, clicking the volume down on her phone as she speaks.

Bora groans. “I guess. Can we order something?”

“I ordered something earlier, if you want. I figured you’d be hungry.”

Her memory flickers back to the breakroom at work.

…

“You can stay late, right Bora?” Her boss sneers. “It’s not like you have to go home and make dinner for anyone.” She says with a laugh. 

Bora’s back is turned to her at the moment, and she’s grateful for it, because the look on her face is nothing short of virulent. She takes a deep breath, imagining her own visage as a crumpled piece of paper, attempting to smooth it and ease out the tension written into every line on her face.

“That might be the case, but will I finally get a raise this quarter? Since I seem to be the only one staying back.” Bora responds, a calculated amount of humor and humorlessness in her words. 

“We’ve talked about this before, Bora.” Her boss replies. An uncomfortable silence hangs over the room. 

It’s quiet for another beat before the door swings open again.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m heading out early.” A cheerful voice sings across the room. It’s the new girl, she’s smart but she’s young , and for some reason, she’s the new favorite. It makes Bora feel exhausted, like the oldness and deadended-ness of her mid-level career could be distilled into a physical sensation. 

“What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” Her boss replies.

Bora cringes at the nickname.

“Oh, just, my fiance needs help with the baby.”

Bora’s heart lurches. Her shoulders sag as she absentmindedly wipes a wet towel over an area of the counter she had made a mess of. 

What would it be like to leave work early, to go home and tend to a partner, and a child? And to have that domesticity alongside a promising career and the entirety of her 20’s ahead of her rather than a weight dragging behind her?

They both leave the room, chattering-- Bora left forgotten in the silence of the nearly empty office.

…

Bora bites the inside of her cheek. 

“I’m not really hungry, but thanks Minji.”

A flash of anger fires through her blood. What’s all the hype in having a family, anyways? She’s been living with her best friend for years now, and that’s good enough. What do those people know?

“Minji, what do you think about marriage?” Bora blurts out, the cogs in her brain turning too fast to stop the words from falling from her lips.

She intakes a quick breath of air, removing her hands from her eyes and turning to look at Minji. She’s swiping boredly at her phone, with a single index finger. Bora glances at her face, and notices what looks like Candy Crush reflected in the gloss of her spectacles.

“Mmm, I dunno.” Minji says with a shrug. “I just always thought we’d get married.”

“What?” Bora says, trying her damndest to hide her shock behind a clearing of her throat. 

“Sorry, is that weird?” She replies, in a tone that betrays she really doesn’t care if it’s weird or not. She looks up from her phone, finally, a glint in her eyes that makes Bora’s heart skip a beat.

“I just, I-” Bora stutters, trying to ignore the part of her that wants to shout out that No it’s not weird, why would it be?

She composes herself, momentarily. “Like a common law marriage, right? Like you mean a civil partnership kinda thing?”

Minji shakes her head. “No, like marriage .”

“So you…?” Bora trails off, letting the unsaid words tangle in her throat. 

Minji shrugs again. “I mean, we kinda act like that already, don’t we?”

…

Her memory flicks back to a month ago, when Minji was nowhere to be found at the end of their respective work days, and the apartment was quiet. It was strange. Bora remembers going to bed early that night, having no reason to prolong the day without Minji there.

Minji came back late in the night, stumbling through the kitchen clearly drunk. It woke Bora up. Anyone that wakes Bora up should have a writ of will prepared, because she does not rise easily. Or cheerfully, for that matter. 

But all she remembers is being excited that Minji was home. She remembers getting out of bed, pajamas on and looking generally sleep-ridden, and trodding into the kitchen to greet her, she remembers the warm hug Minji wrapped her in, the immediate and mumbled I missed you that slipped from her lips. She mostly remembers how it felt to have her home come back to her. 

…

“I mean, I guess?” Bora offers. She hasn’t not thought about it, that’s for certain. “You’re just good at being nice to everyone.” She continues, trying to talk Minji down from the very high stakes her admission had set.

“That’s sweet of you to say.” Minji says, a small smile twitching at the corners of her lips. She places her phone on the table, the clatter ringing through the otherwise silent apartment. Minji shuffles over to the couch, sitting beside Bora. Her heartbeat is in her ears now, years of memories and words and hugs and late-night embraces and the nights they never spoke about all rising in Bora’s throat like tar. 

…

She definitely remembers their first kiss. One on New Years’ Eve, last year. At a party of their own making, Minji complained of her aching head and Bora of her lack of energy. The ball dropped, and it just happened . A mutual lean in, a collective sigh, a small noise that slipped between them. They leaned away.

“Was that okay?” Bora asked, the adrenaline leaving her breathless, high. Minji smiled, “Is this okay?”

And there Bora was, in her lap and kissing Minji like the Earth was slowing on its axis, that this new year just got a little bit longer, a bit warmer, and that they were the only ones who would ever notice.

It was more than okay.

They didn’t talk about that night much, about the fact that nobody was drinking, about the fact that the moment lingered on long past midnight. 

As with most things with Minji, Bora just felt it was right. 

…

“I don’t know how I feel about marriage.” Bora blurts out when Minji sits next to her, a hand extended towards her and their fingers laced together clumsily like teenagers at a darkened movie theater. 

Minji smiles, and Bora finds the tension easing from her shoulders, enjoying the slow breath that fills her lungs. Minji always has that effect on her. 

The uncertainty and sadness and oldness she felt earlier, seems to melt beneath Minji’s limber fingers. It sinks in slowly, but all at once, the years of her company and comfort and love. Effortless, consistent. 

“But I know how I feel about you.” Bora finishes. 

Minji grins, her teeth flashing into an unmistakable smile. Bora finds herself smiling too. In that moment, it feels like a new start, like a weight has been lifted. 

Bora cups Minji’s cheek in her hand and kisses her chastely, tenderly, like an old married couple would. Maybe that’s not what they were, yet, but she could see it. In hindsight, it only makes sense: the intimacy of their routine, of their knowledge of each other’s smallest tendencies. 

The uncertainty of her future seems a little less scary now, knowing that she can grasp it beneath her fingers, can kiss her future goodnight, can return Minji’s loving gaze and know that her future has always been right beside her.