The excitement of landing in Korea was overshadowed by Zuri's anxiety about seeing Suho after their heated argument. She took a deep breath, adjusted the straps of her backpack, and exited the plane. As she made her way through Incheon Airport, she couldn't help but marvel at the bustling activity and the myriad of sights and sounds that greeted her.

Zuri's apprehension grew as she approached the arrivals gate. She spotted Suho's family — Mrs. Kim, with her graceful posture and a warm smile, and Mr. Kim, looking frail but with a twinkle in his eye. Suho stood next to them, looking dashing as ever but with a distant look in his eyes.

"Zuri!" Mrs. Kim exclaimed, rushing forward and enveloping her in a tight hug. Her thick Korean accent making her words sound even more endearing. "It's so good to see you! I hope the flight was okay."

Zuri smiled, grateful for the warm reception. "Thank you, Mrs. Kim. The flight was long, but I'm just happy to be here."

Suho approached hesitantly, his gaze locked onto Zuri's. "Hey," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," Zuri replied, equally subdued.

The air between them was thick with unsaid words, the remnants of their last argument still fresh. Mrs. Kim seemed blissfully unaware of the tension, chattering away about their plans for Chuseok and how she had made all Zuri's favorite dishes.

As they exited the airport, Mrs. Kim linked her arm with Zuri's, guiding her to their car. "I booked a room for you and Suho at our family's ancestral home. I thought it would be nice for you two to have some privacy."

Zuri's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, um, thank you, Mrs. Kim," she stammered, exchanging a quick glance with Suho, who looked equally shocked.

The drive to the Kim family home was filled with casual conversation, with Mrs. Kim enthusiastically sharing details about their Chuseok traditions. Zuri listened attentively, trying to push her anxiety to the back of her mind.

Upon arriving, the grandeur of the Kim family home in Korea took Zuri's breath away. The traditional hanok, with its gracefully curved roofs and wooden beams, stood majestically amidst a serene garden.

Mrs. Kim led Zuri to her room, which, to her surprise, had only one bed. The realization made her heart race, the awkwardness of the situation not lost on her.

"I hope you like the room," Mrs. Kim said with a smile. "I thought it would be romantic for you two."

Zuri managed a weak smile, her mind racing. "It's lovely, Mrs. Kim. Thank you."

After freshening up, and putting on the rose gold Hanbok that Mrs. Kim gave her, Zuri decided to explore the house. She wandered through the elegantly decorated rooms, admiring the blend of traditional and modern elements. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Suho, wondering how they would navigate the trip given their unresolved issues.

She found Suho in the garden, deep in thought. "Hey," she began, her voice hesitant.

Suho looked up, his eyes searching hers. "Zuri, I'm sorry about the room. I didn't know my mom had arranged it like this."

Zuri sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's okay, Suho. We'll figure it out. But we need to talk."

Suho nodded, taking a deep breath. "I know. Just not now, okay? Let's try to enjoy Chuseok."

The evening was filled with delicious food, lively conversations, and traditional Chuseok games. Zuri couldn't help but be drawn into the warmth of the Kim family, their love and unity evident in every interaction.

Later that night, as she lay in bed next to Suho, the weight of their unresolved issues pressed down on her. She turned to face him, their eyes locking in a silent understanding.

"We'll get through this," Suho whispered, pulling her close. "Together."

Zuri nodded, allowing herself to be enveloped in his embrace. For now, the comfort of his arms was all she needed.

The morning sun, breaking through the intricate latticework of the traditional hanok, cast a warm, golden glow across Suho's room. Despite the serene start, Suho found himself wrestling with an uneasy mix of anticipation and apprehension. The unresolved tension with Zuri, palpable and heavy, hung in the air, suffusing his thoughts with a quiet turmoil.

The sound of his mother's voice, sharp and commanding, shattered the morning calm. "Suho! Aren't you dressed yet? You know how important today is!"

Grimacing, Suho reluctantly slid out of bed, feeling the cool embrace of the wooden floor against his feet. Dressing in the traditional hanbok felt like donning a suit of expectations, each fold a reminder of the weighty traditions he was bound to.

As he joined Zuri downstairs, her presence in vibrant hanbok attire took his breath away. She radiated amidst the confines of tradition, her beauty stark against the backdrop of his familial obligations. Yet, before he could voice his admiration, his mother's brisk instructions pulled them into the day's preparations.

"Suho, Zuri, you'll need to head to the village. Here's a list," his mother said, thrusting a slip of paper into Zuri's hands. The Korean characters danced before her eyes, foreign and indecipherable.

Suho leaned in, translating the list into a quest for lotus root, bean sprouts, scallops, scallions, Bulgogi, and the prized locally bred Hanwoo. "It's a short journey to the heart of tradition," he murmured, offering Zuri a smile that barely masked his unease.

The walk to the village was a tapestry of emotions for Suho, every step a reminder of the argument that loomed between them like a shadow. Yet, the quaint charm of the village, with its bustling streets and vibrant stalls, offered a brief respite from his inner turmoil.

Approaching a stall adorned with fresh produce, Suho's polite greeting to the vendor was met with a warmth that momentarily lifted the heaviness from his heart. "Annyeonghaseyo, ahjumma," he greeted, his voice tinged with a familiarity that spoke of his roots.

Zuri's attempt to relay their list to the vendor, her pronunciation stumbling over the unfamiliar words, was a bridge between their worlds. Suho translated, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride and affection.

The vendor's assumption of their marital status elicited a flush from Suho, a moment of awkwardness that Zuri, absorbed in the exchange, missed entirely. "Ah, preparing for a feast, are we? Such a lovely couple," the vendor cooed, her assumption hanging between them like an unspoken question.

Their return journey was laden with goods and unvoiced thoughts. Suho couldn't help but steal glances at Zuri, her laughter and ease with the vendors a stark contrast to the tension that had defined their recent interactions.

As they meandered back, Suho found the courage to broach the topic that had been gnawing at him. "Zuri, about what happened between us...I've been thinking," he began, his voice heavy with emotion.

Zuri turned to him, her expression open and understanding. "I know we need to talk, Suho. There's so much we haven't said."

The admission was a balm to Suho's worries. "I've been feeling lost, caught between my family's expectations and...us," he confessed, his gaze locked with hers.

Zuri reached out, her hand finding his. "Let's not let it define us. We'll find our way, together."

Their conversation, once started, became a floodgate for their pent-up fears and hopes. Suho shared his anxieties about his family, the looming ultimatum, and the deep-seated fear of losing her. Zuri listened, her heart aching for the man who stood before her, torn between duty and desire.

As they stood there, in the heart of the village, the setting sun casting long shadows, Suho's words hung in the air, a testament to their complicated love. "Zuri, whatever happens, I want you to know...you mean the world to me."

The moment was a fragile truce, a pause in the storm of their lives. With the weight of tradition bearing down on them, and the uncertainty of the future looming large, they found solace in the shared understanding that, for now, they had each other.

See You Next Week!