[ breakfast ] to surprise my muse with breakfast in bed from cherrie :]
the sound of the door creaking open causes sae-byeok to stir. not enough to fully wake her — or at least, not appearing so, when she knows feigning sleep is usually a good way to get cherrie back in bed for a few more minutes. but the familiar feeling of arms snaking around her middle, a face pressed into her back, doesn't come. instead, there is just her name being said affectionately, which is what makes sae-byeok finally roll over, pushing messy hair from her face so she can see cherrie standing in the doorway. cherrie, carrying a large wooden tray in her hands, and wearing only one of sae-byeok's oversized t-shirts.
this is not completely unusual. cherrie often shares when she orders in, whether it's room service at a hotel or pastries delivered from the café down the street. but as sae-byeok rubs more sleep from her eyes, and as cherrie draws nearer with tray in hand, she realizes something is different. the pancakes on the plate lack uniformity, varying in both size and color. beside them is what looks like an attempt at a fried egg, the yolk already broken and running towards some crisped sausage patties. all of it slightly off in such a way that sae-byeok knows she won't find takeout boxes or delivery bags when she takes the trash out later.
"you made all this?" she asks, pushing herself up as cherrie sets the tray over her legs; it's one of the fancy kind that stands up on its own. "by yourself?"
there's also a bowl of cut fruit. a glass of water and a mug of coffee with no sugar or cream, just the way sae-byeok likes it. it is, perhaps, one of the greatest indicators of cherrie's affection that she still kisses sae-byeok while she drinks her bitter morning coffee.
the emotion sneaks up on her, or maybe sae-byeok's brain is still hazy with the sleep she hasn't quite shaken off, but everything about this makes warmth bloom in her chest. there's something enormous in this simple gesture; all the things it says without actually saying it. and in cherrie's eyes, there's the promise of a gentler world. even though sae-byeok often feels that is not something she deserves, she will keep trying to be the kind of person who does.
she takes up a fork, spearing one of the sliced strawberries and offering it to cherrie; a clever trick, when proximity allows sae-byeok to lean forward and press a kiss to her cheek. "thank you, chaeun-ah," she says, pulling away before pointing at a spot on cherrie's stomach. "even if you did get grease on my shirt." but the corner of sae-byeok's mouth lifts, a brief show of her good nature. she's only teasing, after all. and then she shuffles over slightly, patting the empty space beside her. the instruction is clear: sit. i can't eat all this myself.
