The wedding festivities had come to an end. The clinking of glasses, the laughter of guests, and the echo of music still lingered in the air as Namjoon escorted Hana toward the sleek black car that awaited them. The night was cool, the soft breeze tugging at her veil as they made their way down the path. Hana’s legs felt heavy, partly from the exhaustion of the long day and partly from the weight of everything that had transpired. She was married now—Mrs. Kim Hana, the wife of Namjoon, a man she barely knew.

As they reached the car, Namjoon opened the door for her without a word, his movements precise and controlled. There was a quiet efficiency in the way he handled things, always maintaining an air of calm detachment. Hana wasn’t used to it, but there was something oddly reassuring about his predictability. No matter how cold or distant he seemed, she knew he wouldn’t abandon his responsibilities.

He waited patiently for her to settle herself into the seat, ensuring her gown was tucked in safely before gently closing the door. Hana watched him through the window as he rounded the car to the driver's side, his expression as unreadable as ever. Even now, after the wedding and the shared vows, he remained a mystery to her.

The door clicked open, and Namjoon slid into the driver's seat. His presence filled the car, and Hana felt the air shift as he started the engine. For a moment, they sat in silence, the only sound the low hum of the car as it idled. Hana glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her hands resting in her lap, fingers nervously twisting together.

Namjoon noticed the movement and, without a word, reached over and placed his hand gently on top of hers. His touch was light, but there was a firmness to it, as if he was grounding her in the moment. Hana’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected such a gesture from him—not so soon after their wedding, not with the way he had been up until now.

She looked down at their hands, his long fingers covering her smaller ones, and felt a warmth spread through her chest. He was trying. In his own way, he was showing her that he was aware of her nerves, aware that this new life they were stepping into together was daunting. Namjoon might not say much, but in that silent touch, he conveyed more than words ever could.

Hana took a deep breath and allowed herself to relax, her fingers slowly uncurling beneath his. She hadn’t realized how tense she had been until now. Namjoon’s hand remained steady on hers, a quiet promise of support as they began the drive toward their new life.

The car glided smoothly down the road, the city lights flashing by in a blur as they left the venue behind. Hana leaned back in her seat, her eyes tracing the outlines of the buildings outside, but her mind was far away, lost in the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed her throughout the day.

They had exchanged vows, shared a meal, and now they were heading to Namjoon’s apartment—the place that would become their home. The thought of it filled Hana with a mix of excitement and apprehension. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Would Namjoon retreat back into his cold, distant self once they arrived? Or would he continue to show her these small, unexpected moments of kindness?

As if sensing her thoughts, Namjoon cleared his throat. "Your things... were delivered last night," he said, his voice calm and measured, as usual. "I took the liberty of arranging them in the room we’ll share."

Hana blinked, surprised by his words. She hadn’t expected that he would go through the trouble of organizing her belongings. The fact that he had done it, without any prompting, made her heart flutter with something close to gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, turning to look at him. “That was thoughtful of you.”

Namjoon’s eyes remained focused on the road, but she noticed the slightest nod of acknowledgment. He didn’t respond verbally, but Hana could tell that he had heard her.

The silence that settled between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy with unspoken words. Hana wanted to ask him more—wanted to understand him better—but she wasn’t sure how to start. Namjoon had always kept his distance, and even now, after everything, she didn’t know if he was ready to open up to her.

Still, she felt a sense of hope. Today had been filled with small gestures that showed her a different side of him, one that wasn’t entirely closed off. The way he had insisted on dropping her off at home after their cake tasting, the way he had fed her during the wedding dinner, and now this—his hand resting gently on hers as they drove into the night.

They reached the apartment complex after what felt like an eternity, though in reality, it hadn’t been that long. Namjoon pulled into the underground parking lot and parked the car in his reserved spot. He removed his hand from hers, the absence of his touch making her feel oddly cold.

“We’re here,” he said quietly, turning off the engine.

Hana glanced out the window, her stomach flipping at the sight of the tall building looming before them. This was it. Her new home.

Namjoon exited the car and quickly came around to her side, opening the door and offering his hand to help her out. Hana took it, grateful for the small act of chivalry, and stepped out into the cool night air. He didn’t let go of her hand right away, and Hana couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his fingers against hers for just a few seconds longer before he released her.

As they walked toward the entrance, Namjoon remained silent, his gaze focused ahead. But Hana noticed the way he stayed close to her, his presence a quiet but constant reassurance. He led her through the lobby and into the elevator, the soft hum of the machinery filling the space as they ascended to the top floor.

When the elevator doors slid open, Namjoon gestured for her to step out first. She did, her eyes scanning the hallway as they approached the door to what was now their apartment. Namjoon unlocked the door and pushed it open, allowing Hana to step inside.

The apartment was modern and spacious, with sleek lines and minimalist decor. Hana could tell immediately that it reflected Namjoon’s personality—everything was neat, orderly, and precise. There wasn’t a single thing out of place.

As she walked further into the living room, her eyes fell on the pile of her belongings neatly arranged against one wall. Her suitcases and boxes were stacked carefully, as if Namjoon had taken extra care to ensure everything was just right.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Hana said softly, turning to face him.

Namjoon shrugged, his expression still unreadable. “I wanted to make things easier for you. It’s... a lot to adjust to.”

Hana nodded, appreciating the effort he had put into making her feel welcome. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was enough to show that he cared, in his own way. And for Hana, that was more than she had expected.

She wandered toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms, her footsteps light as she peeked into the room that would now be hers—and Namjoon’s. The space was as immaculate as the rest of the apartment, the bed neatly made with crisp white sheets and soft pillows. Her things had been placed thoughtfully on one side of the room, as if Namjoon had anticipated her need for space.

Namjoon followed her, standing just behind her as she took in the sight of the room. “If there’s anything you want to change or add... feel free to do so,” he said, his voice low.

Hana turned to face him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you.”

For a moment, they stood there, facing each other in the quiet of the room. Namjoon’s gaze softened, just a fraction, as he looked at her. The tension between them seemed to ease, if only for a brief moment, and Hana felt a glimmer of hope.

“Get some rest,” Namjoon said, stepping back slightly. “It’s been a long day.”

Hana nodded, watching as he turned to leave the room, his presence still lingering even after he had gone. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing the soft fabric of the blanket as she tried to process everything that had happened.

Namjoon had surprised her today—in more ways than one. And though he remained distant and cold, she could see that he was trying, even if he didn’t say it outright. His actions spoke for him, and Hana was beginning to understand that this was how Namjoon communicated. Not with words, but with small, thoughtful gestures.

As she lay down on the bed, the weight of the day finally catching up with her, Hana allowed herself to relax. She didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time, she felt a sense of peace.

Namjoon was trying, and for now, that was enough.