Archive of Our Own

Momo didn't think she was a selfish person; sometimes she fantasied about Sana dying some painless, faultless death. They'd mourn her, but no one would be at fault, and there would be peace in the fact she didn't suffer. Then she'd comfort Dahyun, she'd would be her rock, someone she could rely on and who would never hurt her. She'd shake those thoughts with shame and guilty; she wasn't selfish but perhaps she was bad.

Her desire towards Dahyun was like an illness, it was like some bad tree had planted itself in her heart and its roots, like tendrils, puppeteered her body and thoughts.

Truth was, Dahyun deserved better than both of them.

The restaurant is relatively full and Dahyun knows this too is a planned gesture. She has cried, she has yelled; Sana wants to avoid those things now; she knows Dahyun wont humiliate herself like that in public. It's calculated, perhaps a little cold; the first time they had been here she had been impressed with the fore-thinking.

"Will you have some wine with me?" She asks with a smile, already calling the waiter over.

"Sure." One glass wont kill her.

They've been here so many times before its almost routine now. Dahyun wonders if this waitress has served them before, wonders if she knows every time Sana slips up, she brings her here, for nice wine Dahyun can barely handle, expensive food, and at the end of the night, kisses to her hand and apologies she only half means.

She wonders if the waitress would guess, if prompted, how many times Sana has cheated on her; how many she's found out; how many she left their home for days, cooling off at her parents house, only to go back to Sana's arms.

She wonders if the waitress would thinks she's stupid.

Truth is, by now, at 32, she's tired. She's no longer the hopeful, bright eyed, crazy in love girl she used to be; her heart has grown calloused, she can take more hits, but she feels them less too. It doesn't help she can barely recognise the Sana in front of her either, long gone is the woman who chased and wooed her for months, the one who bought her flowers and came up with excuses to touch and kiss her.

"Should we order then?" Sana is still looking at her with that unshakable smile, showing too much teeth. Dahyun can barely glance at her, taking another sip of her wine she simply waves dismissively, giving her the freedom to order for her.

She people watches as her wife orders, there are obvious couples, a few meetings of more than two people that might be a business dinner, there's chatting all around her.

"Darling." Sana says softly, reaching forward; earlier than she usually would, gently tapping her hand to get her eyes on her. "I'm trying here."

Trying.

Dahyun can only look at her, still expressionless, challenging Sana to keep speaking, to talk clearly about why they were here.

"I'm sorry." Sana speaks again, and how many times had Dahyun heard that from her? "Really it was…it didn't mean anything." That's always Sana's excuse; it didn't mean anything; just bodies, just sex. She had no thoughts to give to the trust she betrayed.

A week ago Dahyun had found a receipt for a hotel in Sana's bag, on a day she was supposedly having drinks with her colleagues; she had been going through the woman's bag because it had happened before. Sana had left the receipt because she had been forgiven before; comfort made her sloppy.

She doesn't know who she had been at the hotel with; Sana had come home that day, and Dahyun had shoved the piece of paper into her face.

"Again?" she had asked, watching Sana sigh.

"I'm sorry." her wife had answered. And now they were here.

Still silent, Dahyun picks her wine glass up, draining it all at once; she knows it'd be minutes before her face turn bright red, but her only other option was to throw it at Sana.

She rests the glass back on the table, but doesn't look away now; Sana has an exasperated look in her face now, less composed, less happy and self satisfied. It Dahyun feel a little better.

"You're not going to say anything?" this time, her only response is an eyebrow raise. "Have you…thought of what i said?"

if her plan is to get a reaction out of Dahyun she finally managed to; Dahyun looked away, biting down hard.

"Let's just eat, Sana."

They ate in silence, finally; Sana either accepting the silent treatment or deciding to give her time to think.

What Sana had said.

It was perhaps that it had been so many years now of this marriage of theirs; or that Dahyun had forgiven it so many times before; either way the moment it came out this time, Sana had seen something in Dahyun's face that had lit a fire of desperation in her, she knew forgiveness would be harder to get this time.

"Baby." she had reached forward, grabbing a hand when Dahyun stepped back, out of her embrace. "I'm sorry it was stupid i was drunk and horny and not thinking." she had fallen to her knees, it would have had more of an effect if she hadn't done it before. "I love you." Dahyun laughed. "It didn't mean anything." she rolled her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Dahyun stepped even further back, turning around and walking away into their kitchen, leaving Sana alone, on her knees in the living room.

By the time the woman joined her in the kitchen, Dahyun had already drained a glass of water and was holding the glass against her chest. She had refused to cry then, she felt stupid for all the tears shed. it had been at least two years since it last happened, she had thought they had moved past Sana's proclivities.

"Baby." Sana's voice was small, careful. Dahyun turned her back to her, the sight of her face making her insides boil with anger. "You cant act like this every time; you know it doesn't mean anything." she reached forward, touching her shoulder tentatively, before wrapping her arms around Dahyun. "Maybe we should—have you try it; with someone else; so you can see for yourself." the shock was all that had kept Dahyun in place, to stunned to say anything. "Sex is nothing; It doesn't compare to what we have."

The proposition was so preposterous it had made Dahyun stop the fighting, all week, she barely spoke to Sana unless spoken at, and when Sana suggested they go out for dinner she had only nodded.

She had, despite everything, always been loyal; despite the countless counts of infidelity on Sana's part, Dahyun had never gone and crossed that line herself; perhaps it was a leftover of the religion she had been brought up in, even if it didn't acknowledge this marriage as real, it still spoke to her of the sanctity of it. Her instinct was to be offended at the suggestion, to deny and ask Sana what was wrong with her.

The issue was: she knew Sana, this was the woman she had chosen to stay married with for years. She knew Sana expected her to say no. It was a tool for forgiveness; Sana offering herself for a betrayal, a slaughter, that wouldn't come. The sacrifice would never be made, but she would be a saint for offering.

It was no different than offering to leave her job after sleeping with a coworker; not going back home to her parents unless Dahyun could join after sleeping with a old friend; now she was simply offering herself to be a victim of a crime Dahyun wouldn't commit.

Only a minute after their plates are taken away, while waiting for dessert, Dahyun moves her eyes away from the white fabric covering the table, to look her wife eye to eye. Sana is already looking at her, a small smile that could be mistake for either fondness or satisfaction playing in her lips.

"Momo." Dahyun says the words clearly, so there's no mistake, and doesn't look away when Sana frowns.

"What?" honest confusion dance in her pretty shinny eyes.

"Your proposal." she makes sure her voice is even, audible, without a shake or crack in it; full control. "I want to do it with Momo."

She feels proud of the fact that for the first time that night, it's Sana who looks disconcerted, it's her who looks away, gaze distant and full of thought.

This is a game now; Sana cant say no, she had been the one to offer it, it was her one way to look good; generous. Dahyun knows her wife. If she takes it away now, says no, she won't be the martyr.

"Well…" Sana moves on the chair, as if suddenly uncomfortable, avoiding Dahyun's eyes, "I'm not sure she will agree to it." she clears her throat. "And you know, I was thinking more a stranger; more similar to my…misgivings."

It's Dahyun's turn to chuckle, making her wife look at her again, frowning. She tilts her head, one eyebrow raised almost in mockery. "Was Mina a stranger?" there's no answer, she expected none. "Was Yeonjung?" unless of course she's refereeing to the ones Dahyun had never found out about.

"Dahyun—"

Whatever she planned on saying gets lost as the waiter brought back their dessert.

Dahyun wastes no time before eating, like this did not bother; they had traded places now; Sana is the one staring off into the distance, avoiding catching her eye. It brings some satisfaction, it makes the chocolate fudge in her mouth taste sweeter.

"I don't know if she'll agree to it." Sana finally answers, voice lower, without the confidence from before, she has her head lowered, spoon pushing the contents of her plate around. Dahyun can almost feel bad.

Almost.

"Well you suggested it, so you ask her." she shrugs, still eating.

That gets a reaction; Sana leans forward, frowning, hissing. "I didn't suggest you fuck my best friend,"

Dahyun doesn't react, doesn't flinch at her tone of voice; instead she discreetly looks around, reminding Sana of where they were; of why she had brought her here.

She sees the woman notice, sees her sit up straighter, eyes glancing around the neighbouring tables, face burning.

Stuck in her own trap.

"I can ask her if you want." Dahyun offers simply, taking a sip of water. "I just thought you might want to be the one to explain why."

Sana and Momo were already best friends when Dahyun met them; Sana introduce them after their first 5 days, and Dahyun could recognize when a woman was trying to get their friends opinion on her, except Sana had tried to do so without immediately telling Momo they were seeing each other, which ended up with the woman flirting with Dahyun.

She had been thoroughly embarrassed, and even nowadays, years after, would still blush at the memory.

Dahyun had kept that memory close to her heart. One day it would come in handy.

Momo thinks she's never seen Sana look at her like this; there's not just annoyance now—not like every time she took Dahyun's side before—there's pain, and incredulity. "You're going along with this then?"

She shrugs, she could say something to disarm this whole situation, she chooses not to, "You say that like this happening is anyone's fault but yours."

She knows Momo agreed to it the second she gets home. The house is quiet. Dark. Tired from work Dahyun had not been looking forward to stepping into the apartment. not with how heavy the atmosphere had been lately. Somehow this entire thing had turned Sana into the victim, at least that was how she acted. Sulking and pouting, and delaying speaking to Momo.

She goes straight to their room, hoping to avoid the confrontation to come for as long as possible; Sana had texted her around the time Dahyun knew she should be finishing up work, letting her know she'd speak with Momo today, giving her one last time chance to give in.

But Dahyun didn't give in, didn't go back in her word; if this was tug of war, she wouldn't be the one to let go of the rope, even if it threatened to tear up.

She's sitting on the bed, taking off her heels, when Sana appears, a wine glass in her hands.

"I cooked dinner."

The absurdism of that sentence coming from Sana's lips is enough to make her freeze for a second, before arching an eyebrow at the woman. The conversation with Momo must have been short for her to have time to get home before Dahyun did and cook dinner, especially considering Sana didn't quite cook.

"Is it edible?" she knows joking like this will only help further whatever fight they are about to have but she can't help.

The reaction is immediate; Sana is always a reactive person, her emotions rippling through her entire body, she scoffs, her shoulders moving, she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

"Sorry I was hoping we could have a nice dinner together, my bad." Dahyun, if she really wanted to piss off Sana, could say that it didn't really answer what she had asked, but she could tell Sana was already pissed off. "Momo said yes, by the way." she practically snarls around the words, before turning around, walking away with heavy steps that their downstairs neighbours probably hated them for.

Dahyun knew Momo would say yes, still the knowledge, the understanding, that she's actually doing this, hits her hard then. If she were to do what Sana wanted, to give it up, it'd happen now.

Instead she takes a deep breath, before heading for a shower.

Momo's not sure if this is a dream or a nightmare. Dahyun texts her like this is normal, Sana won't speak to her and life doesn't feel quite real.

She should stop this; she was too old for these indulgences, had given up on this one in particular years ago, before she even got her degree. But the thought of having Dahyun, even if just for one night, was too much.

She had spent years around them, rooting for their happiness even as all they did was hurt each other. But now she dared to hope.

She drives herself to Momo's door. She had expected Sana to offer, one last attempt to change her mind, so to avoid it, she took front of it, making it clear she'd go alone before her wife could say any different. She needed the time to breath.

Her and Momo have spoken almost nothing of the actual point of the night since the woman had agreed to this; she was not sure what Sana had told her, how the proposition had been worded. What she knew was that Momo said yes, disappointing Sana, and inviting Dahyun over for dinner via text messages.

There was nothing in those texts that hinted at anything out of the ordinary. The first text—the first in a while, before there was only Momo assuring Dahyun Sana was with her, when they gone out a few months before—was a simple.

Does next Friday work for you?

Simple. Innocent.

It had made Dahyun's heart jump. It had taken a while for her to answer; she used her work day as an excuse to avoid it. Somehow speaking to Momo about this was hard than agreeing to it with her own wife.

But at the end of the day, at home, sitting on the toilet, dreading going to bed, she had, and after the first one everything was easier. She had known Momo for years, just a few weeks of difference from Sana to her. They were friends.

It got easier to talk; all throughout the week they texted, at any free moment they got. The texts were kept innocent; Anyone who read them would only see two friends making plans for dinner; Momo would cook something light and nice; Dahyun would take some wine with her she'd probably only have a few sips.

It made her wonder how many of the conversations in Sana's phone, with women she didn't know and some she did, which she had dismissed as unimportant, actually weren't.

She'd have to worry about later.

Now she knocks, and it takes almost no time between her knuckles hitting the wood and Momo appearing behind it.

She has always found Momo pretty. Her and Sana look alike, some even mistaking them for sisters. But there are differences.

The nose is the most obvious one, smaller, slightly crooked when viewed from the side; her eyes were rounder; her mouth smaller.

And then there were things you noticed not because they were different from each other, but because it stand out on one of them.

Momo has broader shoulders, muscle mass—real and built with years of intense working out—attached to her arms, even in her lither days, to her legs too. Even if Sana was always in shape too, Momo was athletic.

Her tits are also binger; but that Dahyun always thought of as a forbidden thought.

Now Momo stands in front of her, short blonde hair in a low pony tail, dressed in a black compression shirt and sweatpants that sat low on her hips, revealing a a sliver of her tone stomach.

Realising a breath through her nose, Dahyun blinks quickly, averting her eyes to greet Momo. "Hi."

She frowns then, not having before noticed the Hello Kitty band-aid on the woman's cheek.

"Dahyunie." Momo is quicker, stepping aside and waving her inside before she can ask. Her voice, as always when greeting her, is soft. "You're early, I'm just finishing up."

"Sorry," she walks past Momo, trying not to blush as the woman helps her out of her coat. "But I came bearing gifts." she extends the wine bottle, watching Momo smile, accepting it.

She had guessed she'd get here early; she had this kind of anxiety that had her moving ahead of time; she had left work before she usually would, had showered immediately after getting home, and had gotten out of there as fast as she could—although that last bit was more related with avoiding Sana than anything.

She says none of it, of course, instead politely following Momo to the kitchen, taking a seat by the counter.

"I made that pasta you enjoyed last year, on Nayeon's birthday." Momo doesn't look at her as she says it, putting the wine bottle on the counter, to check on a pot still on the stove, and then turning to open a cabinet, taking out two glasses. "Will you have a glass with me now, or will you wait for dinner?"

Her mouth feels dry, her hands clammy; she has been in this apartment countless times before; she had been here when Momo first moved in—Dahyun had been engaged to Sana then and they had been back almost once a week sometimes, for dinner or other celebrations.

Now, alone with Momo, a woman she has known and shared laughter with for years, she feels like this is a strange place she doesn't know the proper etiquette for.

"I'll have a glass."

Momo nods, silently pouring wine for them both, before sliding Dahyun's cup to her.

She goes back to her pans then, and Dahyun watches, sipping her wine slowly; she gets drunk fast, and tonight she should be sober enough to account for whatever she might say or do. She only needs to relax.

It helps, not just the wine, but watching Momo work.

Momo has always cooked, be it for her and Sana, their extended friends, or the random girls she has dated over the years. She's not the greatest with words, expressing her thoughts and feelings, as Dahyun has learned, its something that takes time out of the woman. So she cooks. She invited people for dinner when she doesn't want to be alone, or stops by with tupperwares of food when someone's feeling down.

Now, Dahyun watches her get a clean spoon, dip it into the sauce and turn towards here.

"Try this." she steps forward, one hand under the spoon so it doesn't drip on the floor; Dahyun expects her to hand it to her, instead Momo simply comes close, closer than she feels entirely prepared for, she holds the spoon against Dahyun's lips, her other hand cupping her chin.

Momo doesn't blink as the spoon slides past Dahyun's slips, neither does Dahyun; the sauce is creamy, rich; delicious. she pulls her head back slightly, licking her lips, eyes still on Momo's.

"It's perfect." she whispers, Momo's eyes move to her lips, she sees the woman taking a deep breath before nodding.

Even then there's still a second before she steps back.

When Momo finally steps back, turning her back to her, Dahyun feels drunker; warm and breathless; she swallows once to calm down, then takes another sip of wine.

"Let me set the table, and we'll eat." Momo says finally. Not looking at her, voice strained. Dahyun only nods; she's sure if she speaks, her voice won't be much better.

She tries to take a second, mid mumbling to Momo an offer to help, of why she's here, why they're doing this. She thinks of Sana in a bar, locking eyes with a strange woman; did her heart beat as fast as hers did now, close to Momo?

It didn't make sense to her; this in itself was rare for her; to feel this rush. She used to get like this when Sana flirted with her, years ago, when they first started dating, but the thought the woman she married feeling like this with every woman she had ever cheated on her with made didn't seem right.

To Dahyun, this is only right if its a rare feeling. What would be the point of feeling like this with just anyone?

She helps Momo set the table—despite the woman's protest—and sits down.

Momo doesn't.

Instead, she stands at the edge of the table, looking at it as if doing math. She nods towards herself, and walks back to the kitchen, returning with the wine bottle she fills Dahyun's almost empty glass and her own. Then does the same thing once again, this time returning with salt and pepper shakers.

On the third time she sees Momo, hands on her side fidgeting with its own fingers, eye the table as if looking for one more imperfection, or excuse to delay sitting down, she intervenes.

"Momo," she keeps her voice soft, mimicking the way Momo usually speaks with her, full of gentleness. "Let's eat."

There's hesitance for only a second, then Momo's eyes locks with hers, and its like any fight or argument—born exclusively out of anxiety—she might have had, exits her body; she nods, conceding.

"Alright, Dahyunie."

Maybe its the food—incredible like everything Momo cooks, rich and mouth watering—they manage to relax, an atmosphere of comfort growing around them; they have known each other for years, this shouldn't be this hard.

"You know, i didn't plan for it," Momo says mid sip. "But the wine goes well with the pasta."

Still, even if they're more comfortable now, this is about all they can do; small talk about food and wine; they as well comment on the weather.

"It does." she nods to herself. "I hadn't thought of it either; I was mostly thinking of getting a little drunk." and its working; her tongue loose enough for her to speak on it, her face definitely a little red.

Saving her from embarrassment, Momo nods in agreement, an amused smile in her face. "I thought of doing a shot before you showed up." she pauses then, a more serious expression on her face. "I feel silly now." her eyes bore into Dahyun's with honesty, head tilted. "It's just you."

Words fail Dahyun for a second, and she cannot blame the wine; its everything; Momo and who she is, how she makes her feel—that warmth that has always been there, the feeling of safety—its the reasoning for them to be here.

It's the fact that now, in this instance, without even considering Sana—her wife—and what brought them here, Dahyun really wants to kiss Momo.

Somehow it makes her self conscious. She reaches around the table for a napkin, something to keep her hands busy; looking away, she takes a shaky breath.

"I know this is…" there's not a words that really fits what this is. "A weird thing we're making you do." weird doesn't begin to cover, but it isn't an incorrect word for it; it is weird to be asked to sleep with your best friend's wife, so said friend can be forgiven for years of infidelity.

Momo shakes her head, briskly, interrupting whatever she may say next. "Sana left here—the day she asked i mean—the angriest i ever seen her," she pauses then as Dahyun's eyes find her again. "The angriest I ever made her." she corrects herself.

"We had no right to ask you—"

"I said yes too fast." Wherever she thought Momo was heading—arguing about how ridiculous this was, being too hard on Sana for even asking—this is clearly not it. "I didn't even let her finish explaining, something about you having a ridiculous idea of how to forgive her, i just—" she blushes then, reaching for her wine. "jumped the gun." Dahyun listens enthralled. She had wondered how it went; how did two best friends tackle a conversation like that.

"She said i didn't have to—that she'd tell you this was insane." it takes everything in her not to clench her teeth, not to grind them down into dust. She lets go of the napkin, grabbing her fork, stabbing the little pasta left in her plate . "I told her the least she could do was let you have this—after everything she's done i mean."

The words—all that's' come out of Momo's mouth in the last minutes—weight on her shoulder; Sana acting like this was entirely her idea, selling it like something that would never be seen through. And Momo.

"How much do you know," she starts slowly, drink the last remains of her wine—her throat feels dry and she needs the pause to consider if this is truly something she wants to know the answer. "About all Sana's done?"

The silence that falls between them then is not the same relaxed one they shared before; this is tense, fragile. Dahyun watches Momo's face morph, slowly, something pained, guilt?

She had never learned of one of Sana's affairs through Momo, and yet she had to know. How do you not know two of your best friends are sleeping together? how do you not notice your best friend sneak away with some girl when you're out having drinks?

"I used to know all about it when it wasn't you." Momo says now, hands flat on the table, food forgotten. Her voice bringing her back to the past, to when she agreed to go out with Sana despite the rumours about her past infidelities and Jihyo calling her stupid. "I didn't like it but it didn't affect me, you know? Sana has always been a bit of a dog." Friends since little girls, each on the others first real memory. "And then she got with you; and the first time it happened I wanted to strangle my best friend," her right hand is suddenly clenched into a tight fist; Momo is not even looking at her. "I couldn't explain why it made me so mad—why I—" she stuttered, anger making her words stumble onto one another. "She stopped telling me; even when you'd find out she'd only tell me you guys were fighting," she sighed then, finally looking at Dahyun, apologetic. "I guess she didn't want me yelling at her after you had already done so."

None of that makes much sense to Dahyun, with the thoughts she had harvested all these years; of course she knows Momo is more than fond of her, but Momo and Sana have something different; a friendship like no other.

"You'd take my side over you best friend's?" Momo isn't looking at her—back to eating, her head low—but Dahyun can do nothing other than stare.

the answer only comes after a few seconds, voice low, almost embarrassed. "It's not fair to you."

It still doesn't click for Dahyun, she shakes her head, frowning; "Why?"

That finally, has Momo looking at her, face suddenly serious, gone all anguish and doubt over what words to say. "Don't make me say it out loud Dahyun."

It feels like being shocked, or sudden awaken by a bucket of ice cold water. Momo goes back to eat; Dahyun can barely move.

Of course a part of her has always known, even if she'd never admit it, not even to herself; it was why she had known, always, that Momo would say yes.

Is it love? or is that too strong a word?

Momo is 33, smiling at just seeing her; dropping off food when she was sick; choosing her side over Sana's; never holding on to a girlfriend for long and yet never looking too heartbroken.

Was it her fault?

She hears Momo take a deep breath, "Talk about a mood killer." the woman's laughter has no humour, no energy. "I'm not good at desserts, so i bought some; I'll go get it."

Alone, Dahyun simply closes her eyes; it takes more effort than it should not to shake, not to run out, not to run to Momo in the kitchen.

this isn't a movie—and what kind of film would this even be, definitely not a romance, at best some cheap porno—she cannot ignore why she is here, not what she is here to do, but what brought her here: the mess of her marriage, Sana offering her a hand and Dahyun chewing on her entire arm.

A fix, a get back; that was what this was supposed to be.

And she knew Momo would never say no.

She should stop this now, before the mess is made worse.

She thinks of kissing Momo, of her hands—those small callouses from the gym—on her body; she thinks of falling to her knees in front of Momo, of looking up at her, seeing her watching her.

She's not running out. She doesn't want to.

There's mostly silence once Momo gets back with the dessert; its good; Dahyun doesn't feel that hungry.

The silence between them is not oppressive—Dahyun is sure it can never be—and glancing at Momo she can tell she's relaxed, she's simply giving her space.

Dahyun appreciates it; she takes those couple of minutes to think; she cant help but wonder what Sana is doing now, her phone is in her bag, lost somewhere in the house, but even if it was nearby, she wouldn't check it. She imagines her wife, that pout and frown combination that always had Dahyun melting, red eyes from tears.

She thinks of her wife in some bar, drinking after work, making eyes at some random woman, flirting, taking her to an hotel; she thinks of Sana kissing someone else's lips, hands on a strangers bare body, her wedding ring probably still on her finger.

She thinks Momo arguing with the first friend she's ever made, for Dahyun. Taking her side to the point Sana no longer confided in her.

Momo jumping at the opportunity to do this, to have her, to fuck her; even if just once; even at the cost of risking her friendship with Sana.

It's not hard to come to peace with this night.

They finish eating, and still giving her space, Momo makes the move to take out the dishes, probably planning on washing the dishes alone before inviting Dahyun to the living room; it was clear the woman was firm on stretching the night, giving Dahyun as much time and space as needed before they did what they were here to do.

Dahyun doesn't want to wait anymore. She rises with Momo, taking her own plate with her. She locks eyes with the woman sees the way she searches her eyes for something; confirmation she's alright, that they're really doing this.

In case she doesn't see it in her eyes, Dahyun nods.

It makes no sense to avoid or have second thoughts? Had Sana ever done so? if she did her conscience needed to learn to speak up. So Dahyun will do this, she'll enjoy it, and she'll have no regrets.

In the kitchen, Momo rinses their plates, slowly, and Dahyun can see her hesitance, the way she avoids looking at her, the way she moves slowly, unsure.

It makes sense she' have to take the first step here, she's put Momo through enough.

She touches her wrist gently, making the woman look at her. "You can leave those for later, no?"

Momo's eyes are wide, her mouth parted; she looks like at Dahyun like she's a high velocity vehicle coming from nowhere. She sees her throat move as she swallows, a slow blink, then she nods.

head tilted up, Dahyun moves closer, hand crawling from Momo's wrist and up her arm until she can wrap it around her shoulders.

They feel strong under her, firm muscle, but the hand that sneaks around her waist is soft, gentle, and the breath that hits her face is shaky, hesitant…scared.

Dahyun knows if she doesn't move, they'll be here, chest to chest, nose almost touching, all night; Momo needs her to take this leap for them.

She does it no fear, and the moment her lips touch Momo's she knows she's made a mistake.

The taller woman melts into her, the hand on her waist becomes an arm, wrapping itself around her and pulling her closer, two bodies trying to occupy the same space; Momo's mouth parts open with an easy eagerness, like she's starving, her tongue licking into Dahyun's mouth immediately. There's no build up—or perhaps there are years of it behind the kiss—its everything all at once, is desire and hunger, and passion.

She shouldn't have done this. There will be no coming back. There will be no forgetting how it feels.

And its too late to stop.

She melts back into Momo, arm moving so her hand can dig its fingers into the woman's back, over her clothes. Her entire body feels alive in a way she hasn't felt in years, she's warm and sensitive to each touch, her brain, her thoughts, all becomes Momo; she needs to have her now, in any way she can.

She wants to be on her knees for her, to taste and to look up at her and see, Hirai Momo, beautiful, kind, fit, looking down on her, lost in pleasure.

Breaking the kiss is hard, Momo kisses like she wants to devour her, like she's been starving for years; but at some point they need to breath. She takes that opportunity to move her lips, kissing Momo's face, her sharp jaw, then down her neck.

It's bold, she knows; she wonders if bolder than Momo expected, if this goes against her fantasy.

if it does she doesn't complain; she sighs and lets out these breathy little moans, that wakes something mean in Dahyun; so easy, so sensitive; Momo is at her mercy and its clear in the way she lets herself be guided until her back hits the counter, despite her height and strength advantage, she goes where Dahyun pushes her to.

It takes everything in her not to bite when Momo throws her head back, giving her space and silent access to all the length of her neck. she wants to, she wants to know what those ropes of muscles feel under the pressure of her teeth, and more importantly what sound that would wring out of Momo.

But fucking is one thing, marking another; she's pretty sure Sana might actually commit a crime if she arrives home bruised, so she wont inflict on Momo what can't be done to her.

Acting on what they can do however, she pulls back, eyes searching for Momo's. She finds them wide open, on a blushed face, pupils dilated, visible even with the brown of her eyes and low light of the kitchen. She looks down at Dahyun like an animal caught in a hunters trap, she doesn't move, only her chest heaves with each lungful.

Dahyun smiles then, hands still on Momo's hips, fingers teasing the skin exposed between her pants and shirt, she slowly lowers herself to her knees in front of her.

She sees the way Momo's hand grip the edge of the counter, the way her mouth falls open in surprise, ready to protest, to play her nice and polite role, the saving prince.

There's a time and a place for that; right now, Dahyun wants to taste her, feel her on her tongue.

"Are you okay?" she asks, voice even, eyes on Momo's as her fingers hook into her pants waist band, ready to pull them down.

The woman nods, then finding her voice, as if Dahyun state of full composure reminds her she should probably try not to completely embarrass herself in front of the woman she has desired for years, she speaks. "Yeah; are you knees okay like that? we could move to the bedroom."

They could, but Dahyun doesn't want to. Maybe this too is a part of it; she doesn't know exactly where Sana has done all the cheating, love hotels, cars, god knows where else, what she does know is that it wasn't always in a bed, it wasn't always sweet and composed.

She knows Momo would make love to her if she asked, and later she might, but right now she wants to corrupt this space—Momo's kitchen where her love takes shape—and go against whatever Sana thinks might be happening tonight.

So, Dahyun shakes her head, dismissing Momo's worries, and pulls her sweatpants down until just about past half her thighs. Under it Momo's wearing a nice pair of black boxers that hug her ass just right, and as Dahyun slides her hands down, teasingly, her thighs, the muscles built by years of rigorous gym workouts, dance classes, and a generous appetite, flex under the touch.

Momo feels nice under her hand, soft as she squeezes it, only to flex and harden as the woman tenses under the attention.

She'll probably feel better under her tongue.

Dahyun moves her hand up again, doing to her underwear the same she had just done to her pants, exposing Momo to the cold kitchen air, and most importantly, to her.

It calls to her immediately, this up-close she can smell Momo, wet already, needy; she leans, in, the soft pubic hair, trimmed and well kept, tickles her nose, but she barely notices; flat tongue first she tastes Momo, finally, the taste making her shudder, before wrapping her lips around Momo's clit.

"Jesus—" Momo's hips move away, the woman flinching with a grunt; Dahyun holds her in, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, looking up through half close eyes.

She cant help but smile; its so clear how much strength Momo has in the way her knuckles are white against the counter, with the way her muscles are stone tense.

That wont do.

"Momo," she whispers pulling back, hand reaching for Momo's, taking it away from the counter and undoing her grip. "Relax." she brings the hand to her face, kissing it gently, before letting go, hopping Momo will actually touch her now.

Her wishes are heard; the woman sighs, shoulders relaxing, and her hand brushes against her face, thumb nudging her cheek, before moving to her bottom lip, pressing gently against it.

Dahyun's breath hitches; they're in the same page now, and as she leans back in, mouth watering and almost aching to pleasure Momo, the hand on her face simply moves to the back of her head, fingers threading lightly through her locks.

She still watches Momo, its the best part for her, the way the woman does her best to keep her eyes on hers, eyes locked on each others, but every once in a while, as Dahyun sucks on her clit with particular dedication, or her tongue teases her entrance, she cant help but screw her eyes closed, or throw her head back.

It's still a sight; the strong neck stretch up or the beautiful face twisted in pleasure.

It makes her wet; squirming, on her knees on the floor of Momo's kitchen, she can feel her underwear against her, uncomfortably clinging to her cunt. A part of her wants to take care of it; touch herself while eating Momo out.

But when was the last time someone other than Sana or herself touched her?

Momo comes with a whinny gasp, the gentle guiding touch on the back of Dahyun's head for a second turning into a proper grip, making her grunt, trying her best to help her ride it through.

But she can't; almost immediately after the first shockwave moves through her body Momo pulls her up, turning them around so Dahyun is the one trapped against the counter now, invading her mouth with senseless hunger, lapping at her lips and tongue, tasting herself on her.

Dahyun lets her; surrendering herself to Momo; she feels her move, doing her best not to break way from the kiss—if the messy way their lips and tongues move together can even be called that—clearly trying to pull her pants up.

Then, free, her hands moved to Dahyun's hips, rough and demanding, pulling her closer, flushing their bodies together, as her lips moved away with a gasp for air, only to move down her jaw and neck, pressing wet kisses to the skin.

There's so much desire built into Momo's touches, her hands rough with it, her mouth wet with it. It makes Dahyun lightheaded; she wants to melt into it, to give herself wholly to Momo.

But other than being touched, there's more she want's out of this.

She puts her hand on Momo's shoulder, pushing back just as a hand sneaks under her dress to her thigh.

Momo's nothing if not obedient, attentive; she doesn't protest, doesn't stay still, she goes "You okay?" she's breathless, dark pupils boring into hers.

Dahyun nods, feeling as breathless as Momo feels. "Should we stop?" her voice is low, almost vulnerable; its easy to make it sound like that.

She gets what she wanted almost immediately with Momo's eyes going wider, mouth already forming the words of protest.

"What, why?" she didn't let go of Dahyun then, if anything her grip on her waist became firmer, as if afraid she'd escape.

"Just—" she swallows, struggling with the words that are born out of honesty, despite her awareness of her own determination to go through with it. "It isn't right, is it?"

She sees Momo blinking, mouth opening and closing like a fish; clearly trying to find the right words.

It seems she chooses honesty. "And what Sana's been doing to you all these years is?" she takes a shaky deep breath, as if preparing for an argument. "How many people have touched her?" she whispers, voice almost kind despite the words. "Let me touch you." there's almost a strain to her voice. "You deserved it." and then pain. "Please."

There it was.

Of course she had been thinking those exact thoughts before, but hearing it feels different; truth is, mostly her ego needed it, her self-esteem. She knows Momo's attracted to her, knows she has power over her, but after years of being powerless, of enduring hit after hit; she needs to hear it.

When no response comes immediately, Momo keeps going, tilting her head down to nuzzle her throat. "I'll make you feel so good Dahyunnie, please, just like you deserve." the hand on her hips move just subtly, thumb rubbing her skin gently. "Let me touch you. "

She only needs to nod to have Momo kissing her again.

She's gentler now; careful as if not to scare Dahyun okay, but she's thorough, her kiss still full of want, pure desire. Dahyun can only give in to it, mouth open, relaxing even as the counter digs into her back, Momo pressing against her hard, as if trying to fuse their skin together; she's got what she wanted, proof of desire, spoken aloud, now she can simply sink into the pleasure she's being offered.

As if feeling Dahyun's surrender, Momo gets bolder, hand rough and suddenly possessive, moving up her torso, pausing on her neck.

Momo did not choke her. Her hand simply sat there, splayed over her collarbones, thumb rubbing her throat, making itself present. Part of Dahyun wanted to take it, pull it up, press it against her throat; she craved to feel the strength she knew Momo had, and she trusted the woman to dish it out as well.

But she was scared. Part of her feared disappointing Momo, feared breaking the spell and losing the admiration of the woman. So she'd let the woman touch her with all the desire laced tenderness she wanted to.

It wasn't nothing anyway, better yet it was enough; Momo's hand on her skin, on her body, on her breasts, on her arms on her, fingers trailing over her underwear, tentatively, before finally pulling it to the side.

Momo's fingers touching her clit, inside her, were sensations Dahyun had forbidden herself from imagining; in the past week since everything started, since this became a possibility, whenever that thought came to mind, Dahyun uprooted it immediately, her skin flushing and breath becoming heavier; it was counterproductive with her routine.

Now though, there's no running from it, and it feels good. Momo playing with her wetness, rubbing all over her folds, pressing with just enough pressure, before moving back down, the tips of her fingers teasing her entrance.

Even kissing Momo back becomes hard; her mouth open only because she need to breath, and her nose is not enough. And as Momo pushes a finger inside her, her mouth becomes useful then also to moan.

Momo swallows any noise she makes anyway, kissing her as she fucks her, so sweetly, gentle trying moves becoming firmer, surer as Dahyun loses her composure, shaking, fingers digging into Momo's muscles for support. She takes it all, holds her up, fingers pushing into her fast, slick dripping down her wrists, and kisses her sweetly.

Her orgasm builds fast, Momo doesn't give it time to be otherwise; she kisses her lips and nips at the pale skin on her neck, and all the while Dahyun sees stars every time the heel of Momo's hand hits her clit.

Her orgasm hits hard, and Momo gives her no time to recover, pulling out only to turn her around fast, one hand suddenly on her shoulder bending her slightly forward, while the other pushed her dress up, exposing her ass to the cold air. She kisses her shoulders, pressing her nose against the skin.

"I wanna fuck you so bad," her voice sounds almost pained with desire, hand squeezing the flesh of her ass. "Fuck Dahyunnie I've wanted this for so long."

she knows, has known, and the thought of Momo taking her like this, especially while the aftershocks of her orgasm still ran through her nerves, are tempting to say the least.

but she wants something else, she wants total exposure and Momo's touches on every inch of her skin.

she turns her head as she feels Momo drape herself over her back, just enough to have their faces inches away, "Take me to bed."

Momo watches Dahyun move back in her bed, eyes never leaving hers.

She's hers now.

She lets Momo strip her pulling her dress over her had, her palm sliding down the newly revealed skin reverently. Lets her lead her down on the bed until she's on her back, elbows propping herself up, watching Momo strip herself, eyes dancing over every new piece of skin, soft and pretty, with the sharpness of muscles; the width of her shoulders, the definition on her arms, the flat, almost sculpted details of her stomach.

Once they're both naked, Momo joins her in bed, body easily covering hers, kissing and touching, her lips, her neck, her tits; Momo cups them, mouth trailing down to join her hands, lips kissing down her chest, before wrapping around one nipple, sucking it while her hand massages her other tit.

Dahyun feels in heaven; sensitive and needy, electricity running through at the feeling of Momo's tongue on her sensitive skin, along with her hands and hew own skin; desire flares through her and she gasps, trying to maintain any control she has left over her own mind.

She needs Momo again, like before, fingers inside her, lips on hers, perhaps, even this won't be enough now though; the fire that burns through her, the scope of her needs, feel gigantic, bigger then herself and about to burst out of her.

Blindly, Dahyun tangles her hand through Momo's hair, pulling her up, hissing as the woman lets go of her tit with a pop; She brings her up and kisses her, mouth open, tongue first.

Its attractive how malleable Momo is, Dahyun thinks; how she just flows with it; letting herself be guided by Dahyun's desire.

Still she has a hard time voicing what she wants; it's one thing to guide Momo's hand between her legs as she does now—sighing at the subtle touch to her clit—and saying outright what the more she wants is.

She breaks the kiss as Momo slips two fingers into her, easily with how wet she is, but still making her gasp in surprise. She lets the woman kiss her face as she fingers her, eyes screwed close.

"Momo—" fuck she can cum like this, but she doesn't want to. "Please—"

Momo's fingers piston in and out of her, hard and fast, while her other hand cradles her face gently, nose nudging against her cheek. "What is it Dahyunie..." she whispers, urging her to go on. "What do you need?"

Dahyun is so warm around her fingers, cunt squeezing whenever they bend slightly to hit that spot inside her. Her skin is flushed and sweaty, her breath raggedy. But Momo can tell there's something else she wants, that she needs.

Momo would give her anything she wanted; blood off of her veins; air from her lungs; or just fucking her through the mattress.

Momo is not a virgin, she's not even unexperienced; she's had girlfriends and fuck buddies and hookups. She knows how to fuck. And yet as Dahyun watches her properly adjust the harness around her waist, with a nervous shake and panicked expression, she looks just like that.

It's cute; she cant help chuckling, but it comes from a good place; something warm and close to her heart.

When Momo joins her in bed again, on her knees with a black dildo hanging between her legs, Dahyun feels a little more in control. She still needs to be fucked senseless, still needs to be pushed to the edge, but now she feels a little less like she'll die during it.

She kisses Momo sweetly, taking the bottle of lube from her hands to slather it over the silicone thoroughly; Momo had let her choose, and she had been greedy; it feels thick in her small hand and she knows it'll be a tight fit.

Once its enough, she puts both arms around Momo's neck, pulling her down on top of her on the bed.

Still eager, Momo deepens the kiss, the sweetness turning into filth, as her hand slide down Dahyun's torso, grabbing and teasing before settling on her hips, very clearly meaning to adjust them.

And yet again Dahyun has to stop her; breaking the kiss, she plants one hand on Momo's shoulder, pushing her back just so there's a sliver of space between them, then she turns around until she's lying on her stomach, angling her hips up herself.

She can hear Momo breathing, can feel the way she tenses at the sight, overwhelmed. She tilts her head and finds Momo's eyes, for the first time aren't aimed at her face, instead, having moved to prop herself up by her arms, her head is down, eyes clearly on Dahyun's ass.

As if feeling she's being watched, she looks back up, her face is almost expressionless, and yet Dahyun feels as if being watched by a shark, dark, hungry eyes on her.

"This is how you want it?" even her voice sounds different in her ears now, the whisper deepening it, sending a shiver up Dahyun's spine.

She hesitates only for a second before nodding, and immediately Momo moves, settling back on her knees. One arm returns to her waist, this time pulling her up, then she moves again, quickly picking up one of her pillows to put under Dahyun. Its all done fast, experience and desire fueling each move and it knocks the breath straight out of Dahyun's lungs.

But its only the second a hand touches her shoulder, applying just enough pressure to keep her down, and she feels the tip of the toy pressing against her cunt, that her mind returns to the state it was before; burning need that makes remembering to breath hard.

It's too much, but it just enough, just what she needs; the feeling of Momo's hand on her skin, moving from her shoulders—pressing her down on the mattress, keeping her still—down her back and to her hips—squeezing them in a way it might just bruise. and the sudden stretch as they toy slides inside her, her walls forced to stretch around it, to take.

It's easier than it should be, getting it all inside her; with all the lube and how wet she is, and Momo's guiding the entire length simply slides into her with.

"Ah," her chest heaves and her hands grasps the sheets under her; she had definitely been greedy; it feels like being split apart in the best of ways, she can almost feel it in her throat. She cant help but squirm a bit, overwhelmed, but Momo keeps her still, one hand still keeping her down, pinned, helpless. The other hand, moves to her cunt, rubbing her clit while the toy remains still inside her. "Fuck–Momo…"

She can come like this, with Momo's hand touching her, clenching around a unmoving toy, leaking around it like a bitch in heat. She knows Momo knows it too, maybe even wants it to happen by the way the woman only hums, continuing her ministration.

"You looks so pretty like this Dahyunnie." The sweet nickname feels wrong in the way Momo's voice sounds, deep and filthy with desire. "All stretched out for me" her hand gives Dahyun a break then, wet fingers trailing up to circle her hole, just as Momo's hips shifted subtly, moving the toy slightly. "Does it feel good?"

She cant speak; face half buried on the sheets she nods, struggling to keep her eyes open, struggling not to fuck herself back on Momo. But the nod isn't enough.

"Tell me how it feels." Momo lets go of her shoulder both hands now on her hips, only to move again, grabbing full hands of her ass cheeks. "Tell me baby."

"Full," her voice trembles and Momo grinds back against her, punishment or reward, it has her moaning, half drooling on the sheets, all the same. "So full," she can almost feel it in her throat. "Please, Momo, fuck me."

There's one less squeeze to her ass before Momo is moving, properly this time even if slow at first, small tentative thrusts, almost if gently testing how much she can take.

The answer is more, and soon enough Momo notices it picking up her pace, digging her hips in again and again, fucking Dahyun hard and thoroughly; her hands don't rest either, slithering down her torso, massaging sensitive skin, but eventually—as Dahyun can only gasp an moan, hands gripping the sheet with such strength they might rip—she needs go actually hold her.

Needs to because its too much, it feels good, but its overwhelmed, and her first instinct is to writhe away from it. But she can't. one hand find her hips, keeping her in the right place to receive her thrusts, ass in the air, cunt exposed; the other presses down on her shoulder, keep her pinned against the bed, helplessly stuck in place.

It's breathtaking how easily Momo can overpower her.

Her first orgasm hits fast; everything aids to it; the toy, too thick, dragging against her walls, wet and slippery with how filthy wet she is and the lube; Momo touching her; the sound of Momo breathing with the effort; her body feels on fire.

She always thought people who described orgasms as earth-shakers were exaggerating, but in that moment she feels it, like everything around her is vibrating and rippling and the world threatens to collapse on her. She sees white, clenching around the toy, toes curling—

"Fuck, Momo–" its too much, too good.

Despite having all the strength and power over her, Momo is nothing if not gentle. she slows down then, hips almost still, grinding along only enough to keep an ember of pleasure lit. Her hands ease up, letting go of her shoulder they both return to her ass, once again massaging the supple flash and spreading it open.

"You made such a mess Dahyunnie." she whispers, and Dahyun can only groan as she feels the woman pull back slightly. "came so prettily." she can feel it, the wetness smeared on her thighs, and hears it every time Momo moves. "Can you give me another one?" she squeezes her ass cheeks she asks, still holding them apart, moving so slowly.

Having recovered enough, Dahyun shifts slightly only enough to look over her shoulder, watch the way Momo seems almost hypnotized by the sight of the toy sliding in and out of her.

"You don't want to come again first?" she asks: having entirely planned on making Momo suck her fingers before fucking her.

But the woman shakes her head, not even bothering to look up. instead she feels Momo's fingers teasing her again, only this time in a new spot, somewhere that has her brain blanking and her core throbbing.

Momo's thumb, wet with Dahyun's own release, merely brushes over her asshole, and yet she freezes, breath suddenly caught in her throat.

"Have you ever had anything here?" the question is ask in a unassuming tone, it's almost innocent, like a casual wandering.

She hasn't, it had never been something she thought of, yet now, ass up like this, in such an exposing and shameful position, with Momo's finger gently touching her in this usually untouched spot, she feels breathless.

It feels good.

"I haven't—" she has to bite her lip to suppress a moan, as Momo presses a little harder, no going in, but the threat of it brings enough pleasure.

"Do you want to try?" Momo's thumb doesn't still as she asks, and with it, massaging the rim, and the dildo still inside of her, keeping her open, stretched, Dahyun already feels like its too much; she nods, a fast and wild movement, as no words would come.

Even lost in the pleasure of the touch and of the novelty Dahyun can't help but wonder if this is a thing for Momo, how many times and with how many women has she done this?

Before anything there's a dollop of lube dropped on her ass and Momo leans forward a bit, just to kiss her shoulder.

Then she uses both hands, one moves back to her cunt, rubbing her clit in small circles, getting her to relax, exhale, while the other continues to play with her other entrance. Momo is gentle and careful, keeping the stimulus to Dahyun's cunt, grinding her hips forwards just enough to have the toy dragging slightly against her tight walls while rubbing her clit; it's a delicious distraction from whats to come.

It works; Dahyun relaxes, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, and when Momo finally, slowly, pushes a finger into her, it's easy.

Easy of course, doesn't mean its nothing. No. It's new and it has Dahyun's breath hitching; a different stretch, a new way to be full.

Full.

That's all her brain can think of as it turns to mush. The toy fake cock inside her cunt, Momo's finger inside her ass. She has to breathe through her nose, undoubtedly drooling on the sheets.

Momo is once again patient. Fucking her slowly at first, hips and hand working in tandem, getting Dahyun used to being fucked like this before giving her more, moving faster, harder.

It feels amazing to be full like this, stretched in a way she's never been before; every time Momo moves it knocks the breath out of her. She can feel her own wetness dripping down as she clenches around the toy—and consequently around Momo's fingers, making her moan mindlessly.

Its too much, Dahyun feels caught, overwhelmed, her senses all enhanced and yet all diluted at the same time; she can barely process where she is, whats her name, but when Momo moves, it's like touching an exposed nerve.

She comes even faster than before, except this time it feels much more, all of her thoughts become nothing, white lights blind her, even her muscles are not her to control, trembling on the bed, unable to hold herself up, as she clenches repeatedly around the toy and Momo's fingers.

Her mind goes away for a second, no thoughts, just breathing, she feels Momo pull out, a involuntary grunt leaving her throat at the uncomfortable, overwhelming feeling.

It takes a few seconds, maybe even minute—time is too complex a thought for her then—before the ability to form thoughts comes back to her, when she does, Momo is kissing her back.

There's no hunger in these kisses anymore, its more akin to being licked by a dog; it's a gentle thought, reassuring. She reaches back awkwardly to cup the back of Momo's head.

The attention is nice, the 3 orgasms Dahyun got tonight were even nice; she feels tired, she could sleep easily enough, and it'd be a full peaceful night.

Instead, she turns around, laying on her back so she can look at the woman still on top of her; Momo looks at her expectantly, and Dahyun can't say she didn't think of what could happen now.

Because now, deep in her brain who would never admit it with these words, she knows Sana was right.

There's good sex, great even, bodies on bodies on a mattress or not even that. It means very little.

She cups Momo's face with both hands, rubbing her cheeks, there's care in her eyes, more than it should be for a one night stand, even amongst friends. She can see the thoughts forming behind those honest eyes, so she kisses her before they can become words.

It's a slow kiss compared to their other ones, but Dahyun still has a goal with it, even if its mostly distraction. As they kiss, she lets her hands wonder down, trying her best to blindly get the strap away from Momo's hips for access.

Noticing what shes trying to do, or at least part of it, Momo helps her, her more experienced hands making the whole process easier, and soon enough the whole set up is being shoved away; still, despite helping, there's still a reaction—a gasp, a tiny little moan—from her as Dahyun slots her thigh between her legs.

It's instinctual to grind, and Dahyun can feel how worked up she is, her wetness smearing on her thigh, but she still cant help but compare Momo to a desperate dog, humping against her with no thoughts to where her brain had been going before.

To make sure of it, as Momo breaks the kiss—breathing through her nose— to avoid any words that may come from her mind, Dahyun presses her thumb over her lips, not surprised, but pleased as she immediately takes it into her mouth, sucking lightly.

Momo is noisier like this, humming and moaning around her fingers, soft little noises, almost cries. It's cute.

She comes fast, faster than Dahyun expected, collapsing on top of Dahyun, arms around her, face—undoubtedly flushed—pushed against her neck, hiding.

She clings to Dahyun and doesn't let go, even as they move for comfort, keeping their bodies flushes, as if afraid she'll slip away.

Which Dahyun knows is what she must do soon; she has no intention to hurt Momo and the longer this goes on, the harder it will be not to.

Still she lets herself hold the woman, runs her finger through her hair gently; Momo's her friend, their friend, one who has purposely put herself in the middle of their mes. She deserves some tenderness.

Once enough time has passed, and their both breathing normally, and feeling more soberly about things, its Momo herself who pulls away.

"Are you sleeping here?" she asks with the tone of someone who deep down knows the answer, but still dares to hope.

"I cant," she tries to say the words softly, cupping Momo's face, thumb gently brushing against her cheeks. "I should go."

Momo looks, and looks, and sighs, turning on her back to face the ceiling. Dahyun can't read minds, but she's not stupid.

"Sana's waiting up for you?" the question and tone denounces every thought in Momo's head; her judgment of their marriage, of what she thinks Dahyun deserves, of how tired she was of their shit.

"Yeah," she nods, and Momo says nothing else.

Momo watches Dahyun step into her shoes, half balanced on the wall; if this was another life she'd go to the woman, kneel in front of her and do it herself, but if this was another life Dahyun wouldn't be leaving, they wouldn't have gotten dressed after the night they just had, instead they'd be in bed, in each other's arms, comfortable and pleasantly sleepy.

Dahyun turn's to look at her, a gesture she's done before tonight many times, checking on her with the caring smile, now however, Momo thinks it hurts more now. "I'll see you around?"

Momo wishes they never saw each other again.

She nods.