To the Moon, Until the Sunrise

If only you could help, in any other way than just this.

Pull her closer, hug her tighter, squeeze out all the tears she's keeping deep inside. She grips you right back, wrapping her arms so tight around you like you'll slip away if she loosens. She takes fistfuls of your clothes in her hands all the while her face stays buried in your chest, breathing heavy and pushing out all the negative energy like she always does when she's upset. 

You don't need any more words, only the sobs that finally come as she tears off her professional mask and breaks down. Her sniffles accompany the far-off ticking of the clock in the other room and the silence that lets you hear it—only you.

As if it wasn’t enough that traffic was bad and she was an hour late to the set. Raining, tech issues, and all manners of delays came and went, and the whole team’s lunch hour flitted by and away like the tiny flame on her birthday candle atop the measly cupcake. Low spirits, empty stomach, and every loud “cut” in the director’s nagging voice still ringing in her ears, and the first thing she does as she walks through the door is call out for you.

So you meet her where she is—exhausted, overwhelmed, hanging by a thread—and you hug her back together. Wrap your arms tight around her stiff shoulders and the small of her back, plant kisses on the top of her head while trying to ignore the spent hairspray that starts to coat your lips. You start making mental notes of what you need for the next time the sun blazes high in the sky: detergent, wool balls, and clothespins, as well as ask her what brand of micellar water she uses. 

Yuri pulls away, still sniffling but breathing so much better, makeup unceremoniously torn away from her face like it should be after a rough day. You pat her hair down, and she takes your hands to cup her own cheeks with; your thumbs wipe away the tears that streak inky blackness down the sides of her cheeks, taking the stains anyway, and in that moment, she's as beautiful as she's ever been. Her eyes shine with a quiet flame behind them, heart willing to brave the blows of a universe that never seems to stop issuing her challenge after challenge. Her voice comes in melodious rasps in protest at how the world treated her this day, wanting to pay it back. Her lip trembles with an adamant weakness that has never known surrender, especially not next to someone who's only ever seen her like this and stayed. 

You voice it carefully, “I know, I know. Go,” as you usher her up towards the respectfully awaiting bed. She takes two steps up the stairs before looking back, only to find you waving her off to rest, and she knows you're excited and looking forward to falling in love with her all over again. “Yeah, I got it. 2 a.m., I’ll set your alarm when I come up.” And in that one shining moment, when her lips curl into the sweetest smile you could never, ever get tired of, you fall just a little bit deeper in love with everything she is. 

The door swings open without so much as a breezing creak, and peeking in you find Yuri already sitting on the edge of the bed and fighting for her life against nodding back off. Come in carefully, keep the breakfast tray balanced despite messing up the arrangement and presentation you've so painstakingly implemented for reasons you can't remember anymore. She looks up in annoyance yet with the slightest hint of curiosity, “You said you'd stay…” as she extends both arms toward you, trying to wrangle you back into her personal space. 

“You're supposed to still be asleep,” allowing yourself in, like she wants. You set the tray down easy on the bedside table, somehow successfully managing not to spill even a drop of her lemon black tea. Her arms wrap around your neck, and she takes a deep breath as soon as your neck is in range for all the sniffing she wants. She tightens her grip around you, making known how upset she is at waking up alone, telling you silently what it'll take to make up for it: she takes in your scent in breaths that reach the very bottom of her lungs, she nuzzles her face into your chest like leaving her scent on your shirt, she holds you tight so you never leave her again. 

She grunts back, “The deal was you stay until I wake up,” her hold tightens and threatens to rip your shirt clean off your back. But she relaxes almost right away, knowing even if the world was ending and everything she knew was wrong, the one thing you’d never, ever do was leave her alone. 

“No, the deal was we beat your alarm together—” before you decide it isn’t worth arguing when she’s being this needy. Luckily, you know exactly what to do instead: sit next to her on the bed, let her do her thing. She sniffs and sniffs and sniffs, moving to a new spot on you each time. It still tickles sometimes, when her hair gets in the way of the kisses she tries planting on wherever she decides to plant them, and especially when stray strands make their way against your nose. But you let her all the same, because you know like it's the simplest thing—because it is—that all she wants is you. 

The silence breaks, and both of you are reminded by your actual deal: her phone buzzes and rings with a soothing alarm, and you reach for it to turn off, fumbling around the bedside table in the process only because Yuri absolutely refuses to let go. “Alright, get up,” you chide, pulling her up by the underarms as she continues to insist on clinging to you. She shares warmth, knowing you love when it’s hers and you’d never turn her away, and it works just a little bit too well. 

“Five more minutes…” she mumbles into your neck, and honestly, how could you refuse? She stays quiet and still, plainly refusing to participate in the grand scheme of things and choosing instead, you. She makes small nibbles on your jaw, leaving light trails of kisses and saliva where she drifts over. And of course you'd want nothing more to indulge her, but not right now; she'll be late. 

“Yuri, please. Let's have breakfast, and when you get home tonight—” but she’s tugging you back down, and before you know it, you’re lying with her against your fluffy pillows and cotton sheets again. She keeps her eyes shut, knowing full well that she’ll fall right back asleep, and you have to shake her awake, to no avail. “You can’t be late again, sweetheart. Please, for me?”

You can feel her animosity at your reminder of her other commitments than you, and she peeks at you with only one eye before making a scene out of turning away from you with an adorable grunt. “You never listen to me,” she huffs, and you can sense even just looking at the back of her head that she’s crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at you already. God, you love her. 

Wrap your arms around her waist, pull her close to you. Her back meets your chest, her hair covers your face, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your thumbs rub against her sides, and you feel her hands drift on top of yours. She doesn’t fuss, doesn’t complain, doesn’t even move past snaking her fingers between yours. Gone is the tension that used to coat every single thing she did to get close to you, replaced with… nothing. Her hold on you is light and graceful, not at all like her gripping your shirt and keeping you still to get what she wants. There’s no urgency in the way she fixes her hair away from her neck to ask you for more of the kisses she could never get enough of, nor is there any hurry when she reaches behind and feels for your cheek to lead you where she needs you most. 

And Yuri knows you won’t refuse her like this, not when she’s being so cute about it. She pulls you closer by the cheek, still facing away, until your lips meet the pulse beating on her neck right where it meets her jaw. Like they always do, your kisses bring her giggles to the surface as you kiss her neck, and the last thing she wants to do is move, and making you stop only coming up as a very close second. 

So you stay with her, only if to make up for allegedly failing to hold up your end of the deal. You stay with her as she reorients herself to slip back into the world full of noise and stress and all things she could probably do without. And yet, she’s gracious when it comes to your apologies, “You owe me when I get back tomorrow,” she mumbles, and you can feel against your palm the gentle in-and-out of her belly as she talks and breathes and giggles. Yuri keeps your hand against her skin, right under her shirt, as if she’s trying to tempt you into another two hours of sleep, but you know by now she’s not. 

“I know, Jo Yuri. I’d do anything for you,” you promise, just as the alarm goes off again. She reaches for it herself this time, showing you 2:05 a.m. where she needs to be ready for her hair and makeup at 2:30, “I wish we could’ve seen the sunrise today,” and you plant one last kiss on her cheek before finally giving in to what she wants…

She turns to you, still keeping your hand securely under her shirt, now resting on the dip of her waist, “We have a million sunrises we can see. I’d rather miss one of those than a second with you.” Her fingers trace the outline of your face, drawing a line gently down your cheek as she feels you under her fingertip. “Are you even real? How did I get so lucky to get you to fall for me?” 

You can only chuckle back. “Whatever heroic benevolent deed I did in my past life, I wish I could do it again just to get you back the next time through.” 

“Just take care of me now, please? I’ll do anything I can to find you again in the next life.”

“Deal.”

Yuri scooches closer, up until her forehead is right against yours. She keeps her hand on your cheek, making sure you don’t get to look anywhere else, as if you’d ever want to. She caresses your temples with her thumb, plays with your hair, boops your nose just to watch you feign a blink. Above all else, she stays with you as you stay with her, letting the time pass. 

The breakfast gets colder, the bed gets comfier, and the moon covers more distance across the sky. In a few hours, she’ll be in some car, getting whisked too far away from you to be able to bear, off to the wide and wonderful world that sees the rising starlet Jo Yuri making a name for herself. You knew from the start that she’d always be destined for great things, and you were fine with not being a part of any of it at all. But when she asks that you stay, demands you spend time with her, begs to slow down and let the world spin without her, you start to come to terms with the fact that the million sunrises just about coming your way can wait, while she lets the moon stroll a little slower across the sky of the rest of your lives.