Into the Blue

Birds of a Feather

*If you're uncomfortable with rpf (real people fiction), please skip this one

*Passionate and mild; PG-15 (no vulgarity, I promise)

*If it pleases you, listen to this beautiful song while reading xx

_

Son Yejin couldn't begin to distinguish the sounds that were resonating in her head at the moment, even if she tried.

Maybe she could hear her heart pounding up a storm in her ribcage, the little squeaks from a dog toy somewhere down the hall, the mellow tunes from the playlist labelled 'lullabies' in the next room, and the telltale whooshing of her apron as it was torn away from her body. Maybe.

But they all disintegrated like particles in the air, as pulverised as the baby food she had been distractedly mashing before the ominous beeps by the doorway let her know that the time had finally come.

At long last, her husband was home.

They had taken all but one look at each other for a second and a lifetime, before the magnetic pull that has always been there - no matter where they were, no matter how long they've been in each other's lives - had her running towards him, and him catching her swiftly in his arms before descending his mouth unto hers.

The tips of her toes had flown up the ground when Hyun Bin lifted her so firmly against him, gravity lost all meaning. She had heard the rustling of clothing and discerned that he was making quick work of ridding himself of his jacket, all the while still claiming her lips with his.

He had seemed to let himself enjoy the feeling of her again, breathing in her hair, running his lips languidly all over her face, arms wrapped protectively around her like pillars.

"Hi," Hyun Bin had whispered in her ear in-between kisses, before she pulled his head to bring their mouths together once more, interrupting whatever it was that he had begun to say after greeting her.

She'd long shed any shyness she once had when it came to initiating physical contact with her husband; she wanted him all the time.

It used to scare her - this feeling of being so consumed and so easily shattered by another human being - but not anymore. She knew they both lived for it, relied on it to make themselves feel alive.

"Yejin-ah," he had tried again, gently pulling away from her until only a hair's breadth separated their faces from each other.

The sound of her name on his lips has never ever failed to make her purr like a needy kitten, and it was her favourite term of endearment from the man whose still waters ran so deep. He always spoke her name like an oath.

"Let me look at my wife."

She had to physically restrain herself from pawing at him as his large hand moved to hold her head by her nape, his thumb making gentle rubs across her cheek, and his eyes did that thing again: slowly, languorously, sweeping them from the tip of her forehead to the edge of her feet, as though remembering, memorising, imprinting.

When they were still dating, Yejin would want to hide whenever he did this to her; she felt impossibly naked under his attentive scrutiny. But it was different now.

Now, she would watch him watch her, infinitely content in the knowledge that she was the only person in the world who had any idea what it was like to actually be seen by Hyun Bin.

He has never looked at anyone the way he did her, and sometimes he'd cause tears to well up past her lashes just because she would see exactly how much he loved her through his eyes.