Sundays are for love.

Alarm clocks are turned off, responsibilities and commitments are taken care of ahead of time or put off till later. The window is open so that the brisk autumn breeze is stirring their mussed hair and chilling bare skin, and Minjoo presses her nose into the side of Chaewon’s neck to warm it.

Chaewon is the sweetest when she’s half asleep. She tightens her arm around the curve of Minjoo’s back, drawing her closer into their cocoon of blankets, brushing her uncoordinated lips against the younger girl’s hair.

“Awake?” Minjoo murmurs, hand curling at Chaewon’s collarbone.

“Nope.” Chaewon doesn’t even open her eyes to answer, and Minjoo smiles against her skin.
 

Minjoo is contented, with the two of them like this. Cool air and warm skin, surrounded by the scents of clean sheets and Chaewon and home. It took them a long time, to get to this point, to be so comfortable with each other that they could just be. There were many months of awkwardness, of avoidance, of subtle glances and stilted conversations. Chaewon has been so hot and cold, in those days, that Minjoo hasn’t been able to get a read on her at all.

And then one day it hit Minjoo (as they waited together for the last bus home and Chaewon scuffed her sneakers against the sidewalk), that the Chaewon that smirked and smoldered anywhere around campus has no confidence here, in this – and in the end she was the one who leaned over to her and kiss her in the dark. She remembered so vividly the way Chaewon’s nose scrunched up in surprise, and her own nervous laugh – of relief, that she finally did it, and of fear, that she may have miscalculated, might have misread a touch or a quiet word and set fire to everything.

But then Chaewon’s hand curved around the back of her neck, and she fitted their lips back together with her eyes closed.
 

Yes, she thinks, as she settles herself more comfortably into Chaewon’s chest. They’ve come a long way since then.

Then there’s a soft sound, a gentle rumble and Chaewon’s face is crinkling, making Minjoo laugh. “Chae are you hungry? I’ll make you something.”

“No,” comes the expected response as Chaewon traps her against her body in a tangle of arms and legs. “Stay right here.”

“Silly...” But it isn’t a complain, as Minjoo prods Chaewon in the ribs. She tilts her head up to find dark eyes on her, still heavy-lidded with sleep. Minjoo knows, even if Chaewon doesn’t say it often. “I love you,” she mumbles, and Chaewon meets her halfway.

Sunday are for lazy kisses, the slide of lips on full lips easy and familiar. The way Chaewon ducks her head and catches her with a hand curved around the back of her neck is familiar, too, and Minjoo feels warmth to the tips of her toes.

But she doesn’t forget that grumbling stomach, so she eases back and stops Chaewon from following her with a gentle hand. “Breakfast time Chae. I’ll make you crepes.”

That puts a spark in Chaewon’s eye, instantly and almost childlike delight on those soft and lovely features. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Strawberry banana, the way you like.”

“Mmm...okay.” But Chaewon makes no move to release her, even when Minjoo shifts as she tries to roll free of their nest of sheets.

“Babe, you have to let me get up if you want me to cook for you.”

The corners of Chaewon’s lips lift up in a smirk, eyes alight with something akin to mischief. “Trade me a kiss.”

If that was the toll, Minjoo is more than willing to pay it. Not that it’s a new bargain by any means. When Chaewon finds a joke or a turn of phrase she likes, she would use it often – and this is one of those. Minjoo doesn’t mind at all though. She kisses the smirk away and earns a contented sigh along with her freedom.

She wiggles her toes against the chilly floorboards and pulls on her most comfortable pajama pants, green with lighter green tiny frogs, and tugs Chaewon’s clean oversized shirt over her head. It’s already bright now, clear autumn light streaming in through the open window, but Minjoo doesn’t look at the clock. Time doesn’t matter on Sundays.

Chaewon is still in bed, though she rolled onto her stomach to watch Minjoo, soft skin and dark eyes in a sea of white blankets. Not so different from their first m