Y/N-

Standing in Taehyung's room, my heart was pounding so hard I could practically feel it in my throat. I glanced around at the decorated bed, the soft glow of candles casting delicate shadows, and the faint floral scent in the air. It was all so beautifully arranged, but all I could think about was how overwhelming it felt. This was supposed to be our wedding night, and yet... I wasn't ready for that step, not yet. My chest tightened with a surge of worry. How would I tell Taehyung? What if he expected more tonight than I could give?

Lost in thought, I didn't even hear him enter. But when I looked up, there he was, standing by the door, taking in the scene just as I had. He seemed to follow my gaze, his expression softening as he caught sight of the bed, and I wondered if he could sense my nervousness. He was quiet for a moment, then a soft chuckle broke the silence.

"Hey," he said gently, breaking the tension in the air. "I guess Grandfather must've ordered the maids to decorate it like this. He really does go all out, doesn't he?"

His voice was calm, understanding, and I felt a wave of relief. Taehyung's presence was comforting, his words reassuring, and suddenly, I didn't feel quite as nervous.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry," he continued, moving toward the bed. "I'll clean it up. You can be at ease, Y/n."

The knot in my chest loosened, and I found myself exhaling a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Taehyung's thoughtfulness made the moment feel safe, less daunting than it had a few moments ago. He didn't push or pressure me; he seemed to understand, respecting the unspoken boundary without question.

As he started to clear the rose petals from the bed, I watched him, grateful for his kindness. He moved carefully, gathering each flower petal and gently brushing away any traces of formality or expectation from the night. And in that small act, I felt something between us deepen—a quiet understanding, a mutual respect.

When he finished, he looked back at me, his expression soft but serious. "I know this isn't easy," he said quietly. "And I don't want you to feel any pressure, Y/n. This... marriage, all of it, it happened so fast, and I'm aware it's a lot to take in. I want you to be comfortable. So whatever you need, I'm here, no expectations, alright?"

I nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through me. It was as if he'd understood every worry I'd been carrying without me saying a word. His openness made it easier to admit my own fears.

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I just wasn't ready. I didn't know how to tell you, but I'm glad you... I'm glad you understand."

He gave a small smile, nodding in reassurance. "Of course, Y/n. I wouldn't want this to be anything other than what we both want, at a pace we both feel comfortable with."

We spent the rest of the evening talking quietly, sharing stories, and learning more about each other. It felt strangely comforting, this new beginning between us. The room, though once intimidating with its decorations, now felt cozy and familiar. And though I hadn't expected to feel this way, a part of me was grateful that Taehyung had come into my life.

As I settled down on the opposite side of the bed, I glanced over at him, feeling a quiet, blossoming hope that maybe, with time, we could truly grow together in this new chapter of our lives.

TAEHYUNG-

As I stepped into my room, seeing Y/n standing there in her wedding dress made my heart skip a beat. It was a surreal moment—she was now my wife. This was supposed to be our first night together, but as I glanced around and saw the carefully decorated bed covered in rose petals and candles flickering gently, I immediately understood that it might be overwhelming for her. I knew what this all implied and how much pressure such traditions could put on someone, especially when things had moved as quickly as they had for us.

When I looked at Y/n, I noticed a flicker of something in her eyes—a mixture of nervousness and hesitation. Her gaze was focused on the bed, and though she hadn't said a word, I could sense her apprehension. I wanted to reassure her somehow, to let her know that she didn't need to feel pressured, and that I was here to support her at her own pace.

"Hey," I said gently, trying to lighten the mood. "I guess Grandfather must've ordered the maids to decorate it like this. He really does go all out, doesn't he?" I laughed softly, hoping it might ease the tension.

Her face softened a little, though she still looked a bit unsure. That was when I decided to step forward and offer her something I hoped would set her mind at ease.

"I'll take care of it," I continued, moving to the bed and beginning to clear the rose petals. "I'll clean it up. You can be at ease, Y/n."

As I gathered the petals and brushed them off the bed, I could feel her watching me, and it made me feel strangely calm. I wanted her to know she was safe, that whatever she was feeling was valid, and that she could take all the time she needed. This marriage wasn't just some arrangement to me, even if it had started that way. Somewhere along the line, Y/n had become more than just my friend, and I wanted her to feel comfortable around me, to trust me.

When I finished clearing the bed, I turned back to her, hoping to convey sincerity with my words. "I know this isn't easy," I said, keeping my tone gentle. "And I don't want you to feel any pressure, Y/n. This... marriage, all of it, it happened so fast, and I'm aware it's a lot to take in. I want you to be comfortable. So whatever you need, I'm here, no expectations, alright?"

She nodded, her gaze softening as she took in what I'd said. Her voice was barely a whisper as she thanked me, and I could see the relief in her eyes. It meant a lot to know I'd managed to make her feel at ease, even if only a little. I realized then that this—being here for her, giving her space—was a role I was more than willing to take on.

After I finished clearing the bed, we sat down and ended up talking. It felt almost like the conversations we'd have back in the office, but somehow different—more intimate, maybe even more genuine. I could tell she was slowly opening up, and each word we shared seemed to dissolve the remaining tension between us.

I told her a bit about my grandfather, how he had been there for me all my life and was one of the few people I respected deeply. I shared with her some childhood memories that were important to me, and she listened intently, nodding, laughing at my stories, and adding her own anecdotes. With each story she told, I felt myself becoming more drawn to her, more aware of how genuinely good-natured she was. Being with her tonight, just like this, felt right.

At one point, I looked over at her and caught her smiling at something I'd said. Her laugh was soft, almost shy, but it was enough to make me feel that maybe this wasn't just a forced arrangement. Maybe, in time, this could be something real for both of us.

Eventually, when we were both ready to call it a night, I took a pillow and placed it on the far side of the bed. "I'll take this side," I said, trying to keep the mood light and let her know that I wouldn't encroach on her space.

She seemed grateful for the gesture, and I felt a warmth in my chest that I hadn't anticipated. This was new, uncharted territory for both of us, but as we lay there, separated by the space on the bed, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm. Knowing that she was next to me, that she was willing to give this marriage a chance, filled me with an unfamiliar sense of peace and hope.

As I lay there in the quiet, I thought about the future and what this marriage might bring for us. I didn't know what would happen, and there was a lot left uncertain, but one thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to be there for her. She deserved someone who would put her needs first, someone who would treat her with respect and kindness. And if I could be that person, even if it took time for her to feel something in return, I would wait.

I could feel myself drifting off to sleep with that thought lingering in my mind—a strange yet comforting feeling that maybe, just maybe, this marriage wasn't just an obligation. Maybe, in time, it could become something real, something lasting. And as I lay there, I silently promised myself that I would give my all to make this work, not just for the sake of our families, but for her and, if I was honest, for myself too.

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