The day had finally arrived.

Hana stood in front of the mirror, surrounded by her family, friends, and a flurry of movement. Her mother adjusted the hem of her dress, fussing over every last detail while her bridesmaids fixed her veil and reapplied the final touches of makeup. But Hana barely noticed any of it. Her mind was far away, her heart beating faster with each passing minute as the reality of what was happening settled in.

She was about to marry Namjoon.

The white lace of her wedding gown fit her like a dream, the intricate details of the design catching the light as she moved. The veil draped softly over her shoulders, adding a touch of softness to the ethereal look. She looked every bit the bride she had imagined as a young girl. But now that she was living the moment, it felt both surreal and heavy.

Hana caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Today wasn’t just about the wedding dress or the flowers or the perfectly arranged decorations. It was about her future, about starting a life with a man she still didn’t fully know or understand. A man who, despite his cold demeanor, had shown glimpses of something more—something that gave her hope.

Her fingers brushed the delicate lace of her gown as she turned to face her mother, who smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with pride and emotion.

“You look beautiful, Hana,” her mother whispered, placing a gentle hand on her cheek.

“Thank you, Mom,” Hana whispered back, her voice barely audible as she blinked away the tears threatening to spill.

The door to the bridal suite opened, and one of the wedding coordinators stepped in, signaling that it was time. Hana’s heart skipped a beat. This was it. There was no turning back now.

As her father walked over to take her arm, she gave him a small smile. He had been nothing but supportive throughout the entire process, even though she knew deep down he was nervous for her, worried about the man she was marrying. But like her, he trusted that things would work out.

With a final deep breath, Hana nodded to herself, feeling a mixture of nerves and determination settle in her chest.

The music began to play softly, the familiar melody of the wedding march filling the air. The double doors leading to the aisle opened slowly, revealing the grand, elegantly decorated hall. White flowers lined the aisle, their sweet fragrance filling the space, and the soft glow of candlelight cast a romantic ambiance over the scene.

Hana’s breath hitched in her throat as she took her first step forward, her arm linked with her father’s. The sound of the guests murmuring softly faded into the background as her eyes landed on Namjoon, standing tall and composed at the end of the aisle.

He was waiting for her, his expression as unreadable as ever. Cold. Distant. But even from this distance, Hana could feel the weight of his gaze on her, his dark eyes following her every step as she approached him.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she took in the sight of him. Namjoon was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his broad shoulders and tall frame exuding an air of quiet authority. His face remained impassive, but his presence commanded the room. There was something about the way he stood—calm, collected, almost detached—that sent a shiver down her spine.

But despite the coldness that seemed to radiate from him, Hana noticed something different in his eyes as she drew closer. There was a flicker of something—approval, maybe? His gaze traveled over her, lingering on her dress, and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of admiration in his expression.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The walk down the aisle felt both eternal and fleeting. Each step brought her closer to the man she was about to marry, the man who, in just a few moments, would become her husband. And though she had dreamed of this day for so long, it wasn’t how she had imagined it would be. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling in her chest.

When she finally reached the altar, her father gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before placing it in Namjoon’s. The contrast between their hands was stark—hers warm and trembling, his cool and steady.

Namjoon’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, they simply stood there, looking at each other. There were no words exchanged, no whispered reassurances or stolen smiles. But in the silence, Hana could feel the weight of his presence, the unspoken understanding that they were in this together, whether they liked it or not.

The ceremony began, the officiant’s voice a soft murmur as he led them through the traditional vows. Hana repeated the words with a clear voice, promising to love, honor, and cherish Namjoon for the rest of her life. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but in that moment, she meant every word. She would try, even if it wasn’t easy.

When it was Namjoon’s turn to speak, his voice was steady, but there was an edge to it—something restrained, controlled. He promised to love, honor, and protect her, his words formal but sincere. And though his tone remained cool, Hana caught a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes. He might not be the type to show affection openly, but there was a sense of responsibility in the way he spoke, as though he truly intended to uphold his promises.

The exchange of rings came next, and as Hana slid the ring onto Namjoon’s finger, her hand shook slightly. He, however, was calm, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest of moments before he placed her ring on her finger. His touch was light but deliberate, and Hana couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind as they completed the ritual.

When the officiant finally pronounced them husband and wife, Hana’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions. She turned to Namjoon, expecting the briefest of kisses, something perfunctory and formal. But to her surprise, he leaned in slightly closer than she anticipated, his lips brushing hers in a gentle, but unmistakably possessive kiss.

It was quick, barely a second long, but it left Hana breathless. There was something about the way Namjoon kissed her that made her wonder if there was more to him than the cold exterior he always wore. She couldn’t be sure, but for the first time, she felt a connection—something real, however fleeting.

As the ceremony ended, the two of them were escorted to their table for the wedding dinner. The reception hall was grand and beautifully decorated, the soft glow of chandeliers casting a warm light over the room. Hana felt a bit more at ease now that the ceremony was over, but the weight of the day still hung over her like a cloud.

They were seated at a long table, the centerpiece of the room, and all eyes were on them as they prepared to share their first meal as husband and wife. Tradition dictated that they eat from the same plate and feed each other, a symbolic gesture meant to show unity and partnership.

Hana glanced at Namjoon nervously, wondering how he would handle the tradition. He wasn’t exactly the type to engage in romantic gestures, and the thought of feeding him in front of a room full of people made her feel self-conscious. But Namjoon remained as composed as ever, his expression giving nothing away.

The plate of food was placed in front of them, and Hana took a deep breath, picking up the spoon. She carefully scooped up a small portion of the dish and held it up to Namjoon, her hand shaking slightly. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers, and took the bite without hesitation. His lips brushed against the spoon, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or acknowledge the gesture, but there was something about the way he looked at her that made her heart race. It was as if, for the first time, they were sharing something—something intimate, even in the middle of a crowded room.

When it was his turn, Namjoon picked up the spoon and held it out to her. Hana hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned forward to take the bite. His hand was steady, his movements deliberate, and though he remained distant, there was a certain tenderness in the way he fed her.

They continued the meal in silence, feeding each other in turns, following the traditions laid out for them. Hana could feel the eyes of their guests on them, but in that moment, it felt like the room had faded away. It was just the two of them, sharing a meal, sharing a moment.

Namjoon remained cold, distant, but there was something different in the way he interacted with her now. He was trying, in his own way, to fulfill the role of her husband, to show her that he was committed to this, even if he didn’t express it in words.

And for Hana, that was enough.

As the night wore on and the celebrations continued, Hana found herself thinking about the future—about what kind of life they would build together. Namjoon was still a mystery, still guarded and closed off, but she had seen a glimpse of something more tonight. And though their journey had just begun, she had hope that, one day, they might truly find a way to connect.

For now, she would take things one day at a time, knowing that they were both in this together, for better or for worse.