Chapter Text
One year later. Paris, France.
A June morning in the Marais district smelled of fresh pastries, blooming geraniums on wrought-iron balconies, and absolute, unclouded freedom.
Yu Jimin stood by the stove in a loose, clearly borrowed white shirt that barely reached her mid-thigh. She was quietly humming to a French melody playing on the radio, deftly flipping golden pancakes. On her neck, tangling in her loose dark hair, the golden alien gleamed in the sun. And on the ring finger of her left hand, right next to that very first wide ring and the shining diamond, now rested another band. Thin. Platinum.
Tangling around her bare feet was Quark — an impudent ginger cat they had picked up on a rainy evening near Gare de Lyon. He meowed demandingly, hinting that science was all well and good, but breakfast should be on schedule.
Jimin poured food into the bowl and looked toward the open balcony with a tender, almost reverent smile.
There, behind a small round table, sat her personal universe. Kim Minjeong.
She was wearing thin-framed metal glasses, and her short hair, slightly sun-bleached under the European sun, stuck out amusingly at the back of her head. She was completely immersed in her laptop screen, surrounded by a fan of printouts with formulas for her dissertation at the Sorbonne. Minjeong frowned, chewing on the end of her pen, completely oblivious to the noise of the waking city, and to the loving eyes watching her from the kitchen.
Jimin leaned her hip against the counter.
Exactly one year had passed since the day they boarded that plane, leaving behind Seoul, the Yoo clan, Park Sunghoon, and the endless fear. A year since they signed the papers in a small city hall, where Minjeong's mother cried tears of happiness over a video call.
The former heiress of a multi-million dollar empire now worked at a florist shop around the corner (where she decided for herself which irises to order), lived in a rented apartment, and was happier than ever before in her life.
Grabbing two cups of freshly brewed coffee and a plate of pancakes generously drizzled with maple syrup, Jimin stepped out onto the balcony.
She approached silently from behind, setting the breakfast on an edge of the table free from quantum physics, and softly wrapped her arms around Minjeong's neck. Her cheek pressed against the warm crown of Minjeong's head, and her ringed fingers rested on the girl's chest.
"Madame Kim," Jimin purred, relishing how the name rolled off her tongue. "If you don't tear yourself away from your bosons and quarks right this second, I'll let our Quark sleep right on your keyboard."
She left a long, tender kiss behind Minjeong's ear, right where the short haircut exposed sensitive skin.
"Breakfast is ready. And today is Sunday. Which means — no formulas until noon. It's the law. And it's stricter than your favorite divine law of irreversibility."
Minjeong let out a quiet, husky chuckle. That very sound that still sent shivers down Jimin's spine. She closed the laptop, not even bothering to save her last calculations, and tilted her head back, catching Jimin's lips in a lazy, morning kiss.
"You're a mean woman, unnie," Minjeong murmured, turning in her chair and wrapping her strong arms around Jimin's waist. She buried her face in Jimin's stomach, right into the soft fabric of her own shirt. "I have great science happening here, and you're feeding me pancakes."
Jimin buried her fingers in her short hair, massaging her scalp.
"I'm saving you from exhaustion, my brilliant little bear," she answered softly. "Besides, someone promised me a trip to the Saint-Ouen flea market yesterday for a vintage lamp. And after that — wine on the banks of the Seine. Or have you forgotten your promises?"
Minjeong looked up. Her dark eyes, stripped of all masks, looked at Jimin with absolute, crystal-clear devotion. The tips of her ears turned slightly red at being called "Madame Kim," a title she still couldn't quite get used to.
"I never forget my promises, baby," she answered seriously, stroking Jimin's ring finger. "I promised to take you to Europe. Promised a ring. Promised cats and aliens. I fulfilled it all. So we'll find that lamp today too."
Jimin felt a hot lump rise in her throat. Not from sadness — from an overwhelming amount of light inside her. She leaned down, pressing her forehead against Minjeong's.
"You fulfilled even more than you promised," Jimin whispered, looking straight into her eyes. "You gave me a life. A real one."
Minjeong smiled her signature, slightly cheeky grin, pulling Jimin down onto her lap.
"Then feed me your pancakes, Madame Yoo," she commanded, kissing her collarbone. "Physics will have to wait. My wife is more important than the universe."
And to the accompaniment of the Parisian morning, the clinking of cups, and the purring of the ginger cat, Jimin realized that their personal universe had just become a little bit warmer. And there wasn't a single drop of fear in it. Only the smell of coffee, maple syrup, and endless love.