TAEHYUNG'S POV

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Jimin failed miserably at his attempt to hold back his laughter. "HAHAHAHA!" He laughed like a maniac, clutching his stomach as tears welled up in his eyes. I glared at him, my eyes sharp and filled with anger, but he didn't stop-he laughed even harder.

After two whole minutes, his eyes finally met mine, and he gradually took a breather.

"So, Park Jimin," I said, my tone sharp, "What's so funny?"

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Uh, you wore a cap... to the office? CEO Kim Taehyung wore a damn 'Princess' cap to the office?!" he burst out laughing again.

I was offended at first, but then I rolled my eyes. "So-so what? Huh? Can I not wear a 'Princess' cap to my own company?" I asked, irritation creeping into my voice.

I knew I was wearing a denim cap with 'PRINCESS' printed on it in pink, but that didn't give him the right to make fun of me. What's wrong with wearing a cap to the office?

"Absolutely, you can. In fact, it suits your personality," he raised his hands in defense. "It's just-" He tried to hold back another round of laughter, "It's just not like you. You know what I mean, right? You're always strict and formal... this doesn't suit your usual vibe," he said, sitting back in the chair in front of me. "And then, 'Princess'?"

"My wife gave it to me. So what?" I snapped.

She gave it to me so I could hide the red mark on my forehead. I hadn't realized it until I got to the office and noticed everyone staring at me more than usual. I thought it was because I was wearing a cap for the first time, but when I checked myself in the mirror of my cabin, my mouth hung open. And then, of course, my annoying best friend followed me inside just to make fun of me.

"There's no way Y/n gave it to you for no reason, and you just wore it for no reason," Jimin squinted his eyes at me, suspicion written all over his face. I gulped. What was he planning?

I furrowed my brows at his expression. Then, before I could react, he moved like lightning and knocked the cap off my head. We both just stared at each other in silence, our mouths open in surprise.

"HAHAHAHA!" Jimin collapsed onto the cold floor again. I wished the tiles would break and send him falling to the floor below. I rolled my eyes, accepting my defeat, and leaned back in my seat, ignoring him.

"At this rate, you're going to die!" I warned, still not looking at the invisible body sprawled beneath my table.

"Yaah! Yaah, Kim Taehyung..." he panted, wiping away tears. "How did your forehead-?!" He pointed at the red mark, still laughing uncontrollably.

This was getting on my nerves. Enough was enough. "Alright! I got hit by my wife early this morning. Is that enough information for you?!" I stood up and yelled in humiliation.

Jimin cleared his throat before standing up straight, still grinning. "Why? What did you do early this morning to get hit by your wife on the first day after your wedding?" he asked with that signature smirk of his.

"It's personal," I stated curtly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Pervert!" I cursed under my breath.

"Then what did you do?" he pressed, his curiosity clearly piqued.

"I accidentally startled her, so she flicked her finger on my head. That's it," I said, rubbing my forehead as if it would magically soothe the sting.

"By the way," Jimin added, nodding in approval, "I have to praise Y/n's self-defense skills. Her fingers are no joke, man. Look at that mark!" He smirked again, clearly enjoying my misery. I nodded in agreement, reluctantly giving her credit.

"Anyway," he changed the subject, "What are your honeymoon plans?"

I removed my coat and walked over to sit in front of him on the opposite sofa. "I don't know. What should I do? It's my first time," I shared, the thought of it all swirling in my mind.

"Honeymoon is always a first time!" he snapped. "But, what do you mean by 'What should I do?' Just do what every couple does on a honeymoon!"

"Mr. Park," I sighed, "Unlike you, I had an arranged marriage. We need time to understand each other before getting closer."

"That's right," he said, nodding seriously for once.

"I don't even know if she likes me or not," I confessed, feeling the weight of my uncertainty. "I want her to be happy when she's with me. I want us to be a happy couple. But I have no idea how to do that. What should I do to make her happy?" I asked Jimin, looking for some direction.

"Just be yourself!" he grinned, offering a comforting smile. Then, his face shifted. "No, wait. If you're yourself, you'll never be able to talk to her." He paused, thinking for a moment.

"Try starting with conversations, you know... Just talk to her. Take her on dates, since you didn't really have the chance before. Spend your free time with her-women love it when you give them your time. And get her favorite food. Trust me, women go crazy for it. They even do a little dance when they see their dish served. It's the small efforts that matter. A woman loves when her man makes an effort!" he explained.

"But aren't these things just... the bare minimum?" I murmured. It felt like such a simple, almost trivial thing.

"Are you planning to gift her a private jet on your first date or something? You'd come off as obsessive," Jimin scolded me. "A private jet would mean nothing to her. But time-TIME IS NOT BARE MINIMUM. Go slow and steady if you want to win her heart. Then later, you can gift her a whole airport, and she won't be overwhelmed."

Before I could respond, a lady knocked on the door and interrupted us. "Excuse me, Mr. Park. We need you in the conference room."

Jimin winked at me before leaving, "And yeah, she likes you, man."

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A few days later, Italy, Rome

After the long flight from South Korea to Rome, we headed to the hotel. As we rode in the car, my hands were freezing-not from the cold, but from the waves of anxiety crashing inside my chest. I'd done a good job hiding it, but the truth was, I was nervous. It's just a honeymoon, right? But why was I stumbling? If not with my wife, who else would I be here with?

When we finally arrived, I tried to push the nerves aside.

"Welcome to our hotel, sir!" the receptionist greeted, her smile wide as she handed me the key to our suite. I nodded politely, still trying to hide my unease. Normally, these things were handled by my secretary, but here I was, fumbling through it on my own.

"Did we get the keys?" Y/n asked, walking in with our suitcases. I held up the key card to show her.

We'd just checked into our honeymoon suite, and I was trying really hard to make this romantic. I've got this, I told myself. It's just a little awkwardness... but we're here now. I can do this.

Y/n smiled at me as I nervously adjusted my tie and looked around the room. The suite was stunning. Perfect. This will work. She'll love it.

I turned to her and said, "How about we relax and order room service? I'll call them."

I grabbed the phone from the bedside table and began dialing, trying to look casual. But for some reason, my fingers weren't working the way I wanted them to. Instead of dialing the number, I somehow kept pressing the wrong buttons-over and over again.

Come on, Taehyung, focus!

I dialed the number, trying to keep my voice steady. But deep down, I had no idea what to expect. I was trying my best to keep the romance alive, but everything was making me second-guess myself. As I hung up, I couldn't help but feel the pressure of this moment-it was supposed to be the start of something magical, after all.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and I could hear the soft sound of someone approaching. I opened the door to find the room service waiter standing there with a large basket. I gave him a polite smile, ready to accept whatever sweet treats and drinks I had ordered.

But as he handed me the basket, my heart sank. This wasn't just any room service order. Oh no.

Inside the basket were chocolates... and, well, other things. Blindfolds, condoms, and even a couple of erotica books. I blinked, my face flushing a deep shade of red as my mind tried to process what was happening. What the hell? I glanced down, feeling like the room had suddenly gotten ten degrees hotter.

"Sir, is there anything else I can assist you with?" the waiter asked, his voice nonchalant as he held the basket steady.

I froze for a moment, my mind racing. This was... not what I had ordered. I had requested a simple, classy room service, maybe some fruit and wine-something subtle. Not... this.

"What is it?" she asked innocently, clearly unaware of what had just landed in our honeymoon suite.

I smiled awkwardly turning back and hiding the basket behind me. "Nothing," I said, my voice coming out a little too quickly. I was trying so hard not to make this worse.

I muttered to the waiter, barely holding it together, "Take this. Take this out." I waved him off, doing everything I could to keep the tension from spilling over.

He looked confused but didn't argue. "But, sir...?"

"Just take it," I repeated, trying to maintain composure. The last thing I needed was a scene.

Once the waiter finally left, I slammed the door shut with a sigh of relief. I turned to Y/n, who was still looking at me with a confused but calm expression.

"He just came to ask if we were comfortable," I said, forcing a grin that I hoped wasn't too forced.

Y/n blinked, still not entirely understanding the gravity of the situation, and smiled. "Oh, okay."

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The anxiety was real. It was embarrassing as hell. I somehow managed to sort out the whole room service issue and made it back inside the room. But now, here I was, standing out on the balcony with a glass of red wine in hand, trying to calm down. Y/n didn't seem to notice my distress; she was busy unpacking her suitcase, doing her own thing.

After a while, I happened to glance back inside. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed she was sitting by the bed with a box in her hands. What box was that? I squinted, my curiosity piqued, and instinctively zoomed in with my eyes to see it more clearly.

Wait...

Is that a Saint Laurent special condom kit?

I felt my eyes almost pop out of my head. She brought a whole box? A whole box with over 25 condoms? My mind was racing. The wine must've gone straight to my brain, right? But no... I'd only had a couple of sips.

I couldn't help myself. I cautiously moved closer to the balcony window, peering through the glass separating the bedroom and the balcony.

"Saint Laurent," I heard her mumble, and the words almost made my heart skip a beat. She was opening the box. "Wait, are these chocolates?" She sounded excited, like she had just discovered something new. "Oh, aren't these chocolates? I've seen the ad on TV!"

Chocolates?

She picked up one of the packets, and I watched in absolute silence. "Wait, these aren't chocolates..." Her voice dropped in disappointment, and I could see her face mirror that same confusion. She looked down at her fingers, and stared at them with a furrowed brow. "Are these finger gloves?" she asked, sounding even more confused.

At that moment, I wanted to scream, No!!! My anxiety was through the roof. I slapped my palm over my mouth to stop any noise from escaping. I could feel the tension in my chest growing tighter with every second.

She continued to play with the contents, oblivious to what they actually were. "But these are too big and wide for my fingers..." she complained as she struggled with the condoms, trying to fit them over her fingers. Each one was slipping off, making the situation even more awkward. I massaged my temples, fighting the overwhelming urge to jump from the balcony.

I know I'm dreaming. This can't be real. It's just a weird, surreal dream, I told myself, trying to convince my brain that I wasn't actually witnessing this.

Suddenly, I heard her voice, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. "Hey, Taehyung!" She called my name out of the blue. This isn't a dream.

I froze, completely dumbfounded. "Y/n?" I answered, my voice wavering.

"Your mom gave this to me. Am I wearing it right?" She looked at me, holding up her finger-covered hands, utterly clueless.

I sighed, trying to keep my composure. My wife is innocent-so innocent, she didn't even know what these were. It was clear now that she'd never really been in a relationship before, which might explain why she wasn't nervous at all. She probably didn't know what to expect.

Alright... no big deal.

I walked over to her, trying to stay calm and not burst out laughing. Gently, I took the condoms off her fingers and set them aside in the box, trying not to make a bigger scene than I already had. I grabbed my hanky and wiped the her fingers, avoiding eye contact to hide my own embarrassment.

She just stared at me with those innocent brown eyes, utterly puzzled.

"Go wash your hands, okay?" I said, trying to keep my tone as calm as possible. "I'll take care of this. I'll throw the box away."

"Taehyung?" she called me again, her voice soft and curious.

I turned to her. "Hm?"

"That is Saint Laurent!" she said, her voice suddenly intense as she emphasized those two words. "It's expensive!"

I fought to keep a straight face. "I'll buy you the whole company if you want," I said, keeping the situation light. "Just tell me when." I smiled awkwardly, turning to leave the room.

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Next morning

The sharp ring of my alarm dragged me out of my sleep at 8 a.m. I groggily sat up on the bed, yawning, before slipping on my glasses. My mind immediately jumped to what Y/n likes to do on holidays. Last night, I had been so caught up in preparing and studying the map of the area-looking for tourist spots, shopping malls, restaurants-that I didn't realize how late it had gotten. I had completely lost track of time.

As I was reflecting, Y/n slid open the curtains, letting the morning sun flood the room.

"Good morning, Taehyung!" she greeted, her smile radiating brighter than the sunlight streaming in through the window. It was almost like she had an infinite amount of energy. No occasion needed-she was always this happy.

"Morning," I mumbled, my voice a little hoarse. I wasn't sure if it was loud enough for her to hear.

She didn't seem to mind. "Come on up, we have your favorite breakfast!" she cheered. I couldn't help but marvel at how she was so full of life, even so early in the morning.

I climbed out of bed and made my way to one of the two couches by the tea table. She sat across from me and lifted the plates, revealing the breakfast she'd brought. Hot chocolate with cream on the side and strawberry pancakes-exactly what I liked.

I looked up at her, my curiosity piqued. "How do you know it's my favorite?" I asked, still a little surprised.

"Well, your mom shared it with me once," she replied, her eyes gleaming with that same smile. "So, do you have any plans for today?" she asked, cutting her pancake into small pieces.

I leaned back a little, contemplating. "I don't know, I haven't decided yet. Why do you ask?" I replied.

"Well," she began, pausing to sip her tea, "It's not my first time here, so I have a few places in mind." She set her fork and knife down, her gaze turning hopeful.

I smiled at her, realizing that she was solving one of my problems. "Okay. If you want to, we can go," I agreed, my eyes locking with hers.

She beamed, clearly excited, and we continued eating breakfast in comfortable silence. Then, just as I thought things were falling into place, she asked, out of nowhere, "Taehyung, how about we cut this awkwardness?"

My breath hitched for a moment. She knows?

"I mean," she continued, her voice soft but sincere, "I know it's natural to feel awkward because we didn't really get the chance to understand each other before, but... how about we take that time now?" Her eyes were full of hope, searching mine for an answer.

I could feel my heart racing as I gazed into her hopeful eyes. I didn't know how to react or answer her. I wanted to tell her that I was dying to cut through this awkwardness too, that I wanted us to be friends, but I didn't know how to express that. I wanted to tell her that I just needed a chance to talk without the tension lingering between us.

Before I could say anything, she extended her hand across the table. "Can we be friends?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement and vulnerability.

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I couldn't suppress the smile, so I reached forward and took her hand. "Friends," I whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth from the simple gesture.

In that moment, I realized how much I admired her-the way she knew how to make conversations flow, how she could bring people together so effortlessly. I wanted to learn that skill from her, to be as comfortable and natural as she was.

For the first time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, this awkwardness between us wasn't permanent. There was hope. And that gave me a sense of peace.

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