"It's been five months since the mall event, hasn't it?"

I scoffed bitterly, tossing the sales file across the glass table with a sharp thud. The sound echoed through the conference room, startling the men standing on the other side. My eyes swept over the managing director and his team-well-dressed, well-paid, and clearly useless.

"And this..." I gestured mockingly at the file, my voice cold, "this is what you bring me in the name of sales performance?"

No one answered. Not one of them dared.

"Sir-" Director Choi finally tried to speak, but I cut him off with a glare that could rip the floor from under him.

"Don't" I snapped.

My temples throbbed with the dull ache of a long day gone to waste. I wasn't someone who lost his temper easily, not in boardrooms, not in front of my staff. But incompetence? Unprofessionalism? That... I didn't tolerate. Especially not after the effort we put into this damn project.

I exhaled sharply, jaw clenched. "You all know how much we invested into this winter mall project. The amount of money we paid to get those luxury brands inside. The PR. The contracts. The infrastructure." I paced a step forward, my voice rising, fury bubbling just under the surface.

"And this is what I get after five. Fucking. Months?"

My hand slammed down on the table, papers flying. The team flinched, and Director Choi looked ready to melt into the floor.

I stepped back, shaking my head. "You have one month, Director Choi." My voice was low now-controlled, cold, and far more dangerous. "If I don't see sales numbers spike by then, I'll take that as a sign that this mall's management team needs better people."

I didn't wait for a reply. I grabbed my coat and file, walking out of the my cabin without another glance.

The elevator doors slid open. I stepped in alone, ignoring the respectful bows from the employees who crossed paths with me. I wasn't in the mood for courtesy. Not tonight.

I leaned against the elevator wall, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose. The dull throb in my skull only worsened. I had stayed behind for this? For this absolute waste of time?

It was already 9 PM.

I had texted Yn earlier-told her to go home without me because of some pending meetings. I knew she'd understand. But right now, all I wanted was to get home. Be near her. Maybe just... exist next to her for a while, with no one trying to get under my skin.

When I stepped outside, the driver was waiting beside the car. But I waved him off and reached for the keys myself.

"Sir?" he looked confused.

"Go home," I said simply. "I'll drive."

I needed the quiet. I needed the solitude. I needed the open road and a city that would blur past me fast enough to let my thoughts unravel before they strangled me.

I slid into the driver's seat, shutting the door with a heavy sigh. My hands on the steering wheel trembled faintly-whether from exhaustion or rage, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that this pressure was getting heavier by the day.

And right now, the only person I wanted to see was her.

I opened the door with the spare key, the click of the lock loud in the quiet hallway. My shoulders sagged with the weight of the day, my fingers already tugging loose the suffocating tie around my neck. My jaw was clenched so tight it ached, and all I craved was silence-just a few moments of peace, maybe a hug. Something soft.

"Taehyung!!"

Her voice rang out before I could take another step, cheerful and melodic from somewhere inside. It cracked the shell I'd been trapped in all day.

I blinked, a tired smile curling my lips despite the tightness in my chest. God, she really was my home.

I closed the door behind me gently and followed the sound of her voice. She was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she stirred something in a pot. Her hair was clipped up messily, her sleeves rolled up, and she was glowing in the warmth of the overhead light.

But then-

"Ahhh!!"

A loud, pained shriek ripped through the air, and my smile vanished.

The pot slipped from her hands, crashing against the tiled floor as steaming broth splashed in all directions-onto the counter, the cabinets, and worst-over her bare feet.

My heart nearly stopped.

"Yn!" I rushed in, my shoes skidding slightly on the wet floor as I saw her bent down, clutching her foot, face scrunched in pain.

Without thinking, I scooped her into my arms. She flinched, hissing softly as her arms looped around my neck. I carried her to the couch in the living room, my heart racing, panic pumping through my veins.

"I'll be right back" I muttered, already sprinting toward the hallway cabinet. My hands shook as I fumbled with the first aid box.

Back at her side, I dropped to my knees in front of her, opening the kit. I dabbed the burn ointment on her reddened skin, my jaw tight, my motions fast and a little too rough.

My jaw was tight, my movements too quick, too rough. The day's frustration-the endless demands, the fake smiles, the weight of being on all the time-boiled over, and before I could stop it, my voice came out sharp, jagged.

"For god's sake, Kim YN!" I snapped, the stress of the day bleeding into my voice, "Why the hell were you even in the kitchen?! You know you don't know how to cook!"

She flinched again; but not from the ointment. From my voice. From me.

Her eyes dropped to her lap, shoulders curling in on herself. "I... I just wanted to prepare something for us-" she whispered, so small, like she was trying to disappear.

But I cut her off, my emotions spiraling too fast to stop. "You don't have to! If you don't know how, then don't create more problems for me-damn it!"

Her breath caught. Her eyes stilled. Her lips parted slightly like I'd just slapped her with words. She met my eyes-tearful, trembling. And then the dam broke.

She sniffled once, and the next moment, a cry tore through her chest-loud, raw, and broken. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pushed me away with both hands, not with strength, but with all the pain in the world.

That's what finally snapped me out of it.

"Why are you shouting at me?!" she sobbed, her voice cracking with every syllable. "I'm the one who's hurt; not you! So why are you yelling?!"

"I was just... trying to do something nice for you. Out of love. But you-" her voice trembled, lips quivering.

She gasped in a breath, trying to calm herself, but her next words hit me like a dagger straight to the chest.

"You're just a jerk. A cold jerk. A cold jerk I... regret loving!"

Her words echoed in the room louder than any shout I'd ever heard. I froze.

"Regret loving?"

My chest tightened, heart skipping painfully as I stared at her, stunned. "What did you just say?" My voice barely came out, quiet, but sharp.

Her eyes widened, as if she hadn't meant to say it, but the hurt was too deep to stop now. She swiped at her tears, her voice shaking but resolute. "You heard me. I regret it. All of it."

But my patience? It was already gone.

"Fine!" I shot to my feet, fists clenched at my sides, pacing a step away as if putting distance between us could stop this from spiraling further. "You know what? I regret this too!"

The words flew out, reckless and bitter, fueled by exhaustion and the sting of her words. "I come home after a miserable day, just wanting a moment of peace, and what do I get instead? Chaos. A mess. And burns that could've been so much worse!"

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Her breath hitched-and then shattered.

"Of course you do," she started, more tears spilled. "You ungrateful jerk!" she cried, her fists clenched at her sides. "If you're so sick of me, then why don't you just-divorce me!"

The word landed like a grenade, the air around us going still. My heart stopped, my blood turning to ice. Divorce? The thought was absurd, unthinkable, but my mouth moved before my brain could catch up.

"Fine! I will!" I snapped, dragging my hands down my face, pacing a step back.

Ugh, fuck me. I didn't mean it. God, I didn't. But it was too late.

She went quiet for half a second. Then-

"Great!"

She pushed herself off the couch, trying to stand in all her fury but winced immediately, grabbing her foot. I stepped forward instinctively, "YN-"

But she shoved me back, her hands slamming against my chest with surprising force, making me stumble into the couch behind me. "I don't need you!" she spat, her voice shaking but fierce, her eyes blazing through her tears.

"Nobody would want to live with you anyway!"

The room went quiet, the weight of her words settling like ash. My breath caught, my mind reeling. "What...?" I whispered, the sting of her words cutting deeper than I'd ever thought possible.

"You heard me," she said, standing taller despite the pain, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, her chin lifted in defiance. "You're unbearable, Taehyung. Cold. Distant. Go marry one of your perfect clients instead-someone who matches your boring CEO energy!"

Her voice rose like a siren, mocking and furious but her lip trembled again, betraying the truth behind her words. She didn't mean a damn thing she said, I knew.

But she was wounded.
And so was I.

"Take that back, Kim YN,l" I warned, voice low and dangerous, stepping toward her, towering her small frame. "Say it again, and I swear-"

"No!" she snapped, chin lifted. "I said what I said."

We were standing toe to toe now, both of us shaking; not from rage, but from the unbearable ache of hurting the only person we ever wanted to protect.

I sucked in a deep breath, dragging my hands over my face, trying to shake off the tension but it didn't leave. It clung to me like regret.

Her silence was louder than any scream. I couldn't meet her eyes anymore. The anger still simmered-low, bitter-but underneath it was something far worse.

Guilt. Pain. Shame.

I had crossed the line.
And so had she.

We said things we didn't mean-sharp, reckless things-and I could already feel them echoing in the space between us like cracks in the floor.

We had our share of disagreements before-little ones, quiet ones-but this? This was our first real fight. And now I understood how terrifying it was... to be hurt by the person you love the most. And worse-to be the one who hurt them.

The words still rang in my ears.

"Divorce me."

"Fine, I will."

God. What the hell had I done?

I clenched my jaw, grabbing my files and coat from the coffee table with more force than necessary. My steps were heavy as I walked past her, keeping my gaze ahead because if I looked at her now, if I saw her tears again, I wouldn't be able to walk away.

Not without breaking.

She didn't stop me. Didn't move. Just stood there, like a small, broken flame, flickering in a storm we both created.

I took the stairs in silence, each step feeling heavier than the last. It wasn't about who was right or wrong anymore. It was about the damage we'd done. And now the space between us wasn't just physical; it was emotional. Wide. Cold. Fragile.

I didn't know how we'd fix it yet. But I knew one thing: I didn't want to sleep tonight with her thinking I meant even a word of that divorce or coming home to mess.

Not when all I wanted was to hold her and tell her I'm sorry.

--------

12:03 AM. The clock ticked louder than usual.

Each passing second echoed in the stillness of the room, mocking me with its silence. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the blankets untouched, the light on, my heart anything but calm.

She still hadn't come to bed.

Not even once.

And I didn't blame her.

My chest felt heavy with everything I didn't say right, everything I shouldn't have said at all. I turned to her side of the bed. Cold. Empty. The pillow still fluffed, undisturbed.

The argument replayed again, over and over, like a broken reel I couldn't switch off.

"You don't know how to cook-don't create more problems for me!"
"Divorce me!"
"Fine! I will!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What the hell was that, Kim Taehyung?!

I sat up, my hands gripping the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking under my weight. My tie lay discarded across the chair. My coat was still creased where I'd thrown it. I couldn't even bother undressing fully, too weighed down by the guilt and the worry sitting in my chest like stone.

I rubbed my hands over my face again, like that would somehow erase everything.

It didn't.

The room felt cold without her laughter.

And quieter without her in it.

I yelled. Over nothing. Because of a damn pot and a worse day at work. Because I let my stress take the wheel, and she bore the brunt of it. She was only trying to cook something nice for me. Out of love. And I made her cry. I scared her.

I scared us.

The worst part? I saw her wince when I raised my voice. I saw her flinch, like she expected more than words next. Like I wasn't her safe place anymore.

And I hated that.
I hated me for that.

She was right. I am a jerk.
I am an unbearable bastard who came home to break his wife's heart because he has a bad day.

I'm the worst.
She doesn't deserve me.

I dropped my head into my hands.

What was the point of everything I worked for, everything I built, if I couldn't come home and keep the one person I loved the most safe?

I thought of going downstairs. A thousand times. But I didn't know if she wanted to see me. I didn't know if she'd let me close after everything.

But I knew one thing:

This space between us was killing me.

And I couldn't sleep without her beside me.

____________________

<YN'S POV>

The house was dark now.
The only light that came was from the soft kitchen lamps and a few in the living room. The rest of the house felt still -still in the way that presses against your chest like loneliness.

I sat curled on the sofa, my knees hugged to my chest, the damp towel still abandoned from earlier, and the first-aid kit half open beside me. The sting in my feet had dulled into something bearable. But the ache in my heart... it only seemed to spread.

I sniffled and wiped my face with the back of my hand. Useless-everything was sticky with tears now.

I said divorce.
God. I actually said that.

I buried my face in my hands, groaning quietly. "Why did I say that?"

It was the heat of the moment. His voice was loud, but my pain was louder. And I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to throw something that would hurt him back-something as sharp as his words had felt. But it was a low blow. So low it made my chest twist.

Because I never wanted a divorce.

I never wanted space between us.
I never wanted this... silence, when I should've been lying next to him, maybe grumbling, maybe still upset; but together.

Taehyung didn't even raise his voice like that often. And he never talked to me like that.

But today, he did.
And I cried.
And then I screamed.
And then I said the one thing no woman in love should ever say.

And now... the regret was clawing its way up my throat.

The floor was too cold and I didn't even wear slippers, so I stood up with a hiss, steadying myself as my feet still hurt. He applied the cream carefully, even when he was furious. His hands hadn't shaken, even when his voice had.

He still cared.

That's what stung more than anything else-the fact that we hurt each other while still loving each other so much.

I turned the kitchen light off quietly and looked towards the stairs. I didn't know if he was awake. I didn't know if he was waiting, or sleeping alone with his fists clenched and back turned.

But I couldn't bear it anymore.

I needed him.
Not for a fight. Not for another round of words. Just... to hold. Just to cry into. Just to say sorry.

And maybe... to hear sorry too.

I took the first step upstairs, biting my lip hard, one hand on the railing as I winced-my feet still throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the way my chest ached.

The words divorce me echoed in my ears like a curse I couldn't take back. And suddenly, it was all too much.

I sank down halfway up the stairs, curling in on myself, burying my face in my palms as a sob broke loose. My shoulders shook violently.

"How would I face him?" I whispered through clenched teeth, my voice cracking. "I called him unbearable, cold, heartless; when all he ever does is love me."

The tears came harder. "Damn me..." I cried, voice sharp and wet with regret. "I'm so stupid-I LOVE HIM."

I hugged myself tighter, rocking forward slightly as the confession clawed its way out of my chest. "I love him so much it hurts. And now... I don't know how to go back."

A pause. A breath.

And then-
"YN..."

His voice.

My head snapped up like a reflex.

He was at the foot of the stairs, one hand still resting on the balcony rail, eyes wide and shining.

Not with anger.
Not even with confusion.
B

ut with the same ache that lived in my chest.

Taehyung. My Taehyung.

His hair was a little messy, as if he'd run his hand through it a hundred times. His tie was gone, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up, but what caught me most was the expression on his face.

Guilt. Worry. Something on the edge of breaking.

He took a hesitant step toward me. "May I?" he asked softly, his voice trembling, eyes glossy.

That hesitation shattered something in me. "Taehyung..." I cried, my arms lifting instinctively. I didn't need to think. I just wanted him.

He didn't waste a second. He surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around me, and I broke-sobbing into the crook of his neck like a lost child. He pulled me onto his lap, holding me like he was afraid I'd slip away if he let go. His face buried in my shoulder, breathing me in like my warmth was the only thing keeping him alive.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Yn. I broke your heart. You didn't deserve any of it."

"No-" I choked out. "I went too far. I said things I didn't mean. I hurt you. And-I swear, Taehyung-I didn't mean a single word."

"I know," he whispered, nodding gently. "Please stop crying-it'll make you sick."

He leaned back just enough to cup my cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears as they kept falling. I sniffled, eyes still wet.

"I didn't know how to handle it all-the stress, the work, you getting hurt. It messed up my head. I'm such an idiot." a year slipped his eye.

"Look at me, love" he whispered, and I did.

"I scared you. I shouted. And even when you were hurt... I made it worse." His voice cracked, eyes soft but full of self-blame. "That's not what a husband does."

"That's not what a wife says either," I said quietly, voice raw. "I said I regretted loving you... and I said I wanted a divorce." My voice broke completely. "I lied. I lied. I lied, Tae... I love you. I love you so much, and the thought of not being yours-it kills me."

He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes fluttering closed like he was trying to stay strong, but I saw how it shattered him too.

He opened them slowly, leaning forward until our foreheads touched. "Let's never say those things again," he whispered. "Let's never weaponize love like that."

I nodded, barely breathing. "Okay."

"Even when we're angry?"

"Even then."

"Even if we mess up again?"

"I'll still choose you," I whispered, trembling. "Every time."

He exhaled, chest shaking, and pulled me into him again-wrapping me up so tightly it felt like he was trying to stitch my broken pieces back together with his touch.

He kissed the top of my head. "I love you, Kim Yn," he whispered, voice raw and full of so much emotion I could barely stand it. "You're my favorite problem to come home to."

"But please," he whispered, pulling away just enough to look at me, his voice thick with emotion, "never burn your feet or anything again." His fingers hovered gently over the redness on my skin like he was afraid to cause more pain. "The last thing I ever want to come home to... is you getting hurt."

His throat bobbed, and he sniffled. "I'd rather come home to no food, to chaos, to anything-than see you in pain because of me."

My chest ached with the kind of love that hurts in the best way. I reached up and craddled his face, brushing my thumb over the rough edges of his jaw, the tension still lingering in the lines of his cheeks. "Work must be too stressful, right?" I whispered. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead, slow and soft. "Let me give you a massage," I said, pretending to pout, crossing my arms like I was scolding him. "You're not allowed to carry the weight of the world by yourself all the time"

He chuckled, warmth creeping into his tired eyes again. "Yes, ma'am."

Then, before I could say more, he scooped me up effortlessly into his arms, and I yelped, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"You better take a week off from the office," I grumbled into his shoulder, trying to sound threatening despite the small smile tugging at my lips, "or I swear-"

He leaned in, pecking my lips with a soft, amused hum. "Or what?" he whispered against my mouth, a teasing glint returning to his eyes.

I narrowed mine. "Or I'll burn all your suits. Every last one."

He burst into a laugh, full and warm, the sound echoing softly in the quiet night. "Okay, okay," he whispered, holding me closer. "You win."

"I always do." I mumbled smugly, snuggling into him, finally letting myself relax into the safety of his arms.

_______________________

— Nov, 2011.

I jumped off the bus the second it wheezed to a halt at the stop, my feet already moving faster than my thoughts. One glance at my wristwatch made my heart drop-5:00 p.m.
Damn it.

I was late. Very late. Thirty minutes? Forty-five? I didn't even know anymore.

My eyes darted between the blur of traffic and the glowing sign of the restaurant across the road. My stomach churned with panic and guilt.

Taehyung and I had a date today.

He had been here for a meeting, and when it wrapped up, he called me and suggested we turn it into a casual tea date. Just the two of us before heading home.

I'd been so sure I'd make it.
"I'll manage" I'd told him with confidence when he offered to pick me up.
Right. Manage. What a joke.

The pedestrian light finally turned green, and I sprinted across the zebra stripes, weaving through the swarm of strangers, breath catching in my throat. I felt like I was racing to meet someone I was trying to impress for the first time. Funny how that never really changed with him-even after the vows.

I burst into the restaurant, slightly breathless, scanning the room like a lost puppy. My eyes paused when I saw him-my sweety-seated near the window.

Amid the soft chatter and the clinking of cups, he sat quietly, dressed in a grey hoodie and matching trousers. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, glasses perched on his nose, and his hair a little messy as it fell across his forehead.

His head tilted up as if sensing me, and the moment our eyes met, relief poured into me like sunlight. I beamed, raising my hand in a little wave.

He rolled his eyes at my enthusiasm, but the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him. He stood up as I approached, expression softening, and gently slid the strap of my handbag off my shoulder. I slid inside the space between the table and sofa and sat down with a dramatic huff.

"You're late, Mrs. Kim," he said with mock sternness, as he sat next to me.

I clasped my hands in front of me like a child caught red-handed. "I'm sorry," I said with a dramatic pout, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Traffic was hell."

He chuckled under his breath and ruffled my hair-the sound of a private laugh only I ever got to hear. Then, without a word, he pulled me closer, my head naturally finding its place against his shoulder.

Finally home.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. His voice, warm and low, teased, "You look like a mess."

"I feel like a mess," I groaned, pulling back just enough to smooth my hair down. "I ran two red lights-on foot-before I finally caught the bus."

His soft laughter made my chest flutter. He reached up, gently tucking away a strand of hair clinging to my cheek. "You should've just called me, literally."

I rolled my eyes with a dramatic sigh. "Diesel prices aren't exactly dropping, you know? And this restaurant's already making my wallet nervous." I mumbled, glancing around at the polished chandeliers and faint jazz playing in the background.

He leaned back, folding his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips. "God, Mrs. Kim, why do you act like we're not the children of families with embarrassingly well-owned businesses?" His voice was half-teasing, half-incredulous. "Your husband is literally a Co-chairman."

I placed a hand over my heart, mock-offended. "And I'm still a humble 9-to-5 librarian, sir. I budget, I eat leftovers, and yes-prices do affect me" I declared, flipping open the menu with flair.

He shook his head, chuckling again. Then he leaned forward, hand sliding gently behind my back as he spoke, "What do you want to have? We can grab dinner somewhere else later-let's just order something light for now."

I nodded, and we settled on something small-just cold coffee and a slice of pastry. Nothing heavy. He even commented that the pastry was too rich for him, and I reminded him how he once devoured a weird, barely edible experimental cake and called it 'surprisingly tasty'. He groaned at the memory.

But we barely touched the food. We were too wrapped up in conversation, whispering and giggling like teenagers on a secret date. And honestly, it always amazed me-how much we still had to say.

Taehyung used to come off as reserved-quiet, sharp, calculated. But with me? He talked. A lot. And more than that-he laughed.

He told me about his meeting.
I told him about the grumpy old man at the library who yelled at me because I told him Shinchan manga didn't qualify as valid research material.

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing like I'd just insulted royalty.

"He yelled at you?" he asked, voice tightening.

"He's seventy," I reminded him, holding up a hand to stop whatever protective instinct was kicking in. "You are not running a background check on an old man."

His eyes crinkled with reluctant laughter. "Being a librarian is harder than it looks, I guess."

"Finally! Someone said it!" I huffed dramatically, sipping my coffee. Then, I leaned closer, excitement bubbling in my chest. "But you know what happened today?"

He nodded, resting his chin on his palm as he looked at me like I was his favorite part of the day.

"So many kids came to the library," I said, already melting at the memory. "First graders-tiny little humans-came with their teachers and moms for a 'library day.' It was the cutest thing. They couldn't even pronounce some of the words, but they tried."

He scoffed a short laugh at how animated I sounded.

"I was so jealous," I admitted. "Watching them snuggle into their moms' arms, trying to read aloud. I don't know, it just made me weirdly emotional."

He went quiet at that, his hand brushing gently against mine under the table.

"I hope our kids love books too" he murmured.

The world slowed.

I blinked, staring at him. "Our kids?"

He smiled, a little teasing glint in his eyes. "...Too soon to think?"

I smiled so hard my cheeks ached. "No. Not too soon. Just... it sounds really beautiful when you say it."

I reached over, brushing some hair from his forehead, fingers lingering a second too long. "But tell me the truth-does it make you nervous?"

He leaned back a little, thoughtful, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Nervous?" he echoed, then shook his head slowly. "I don't know." A pause. "It does make me excited, though," he added in a quieter voice-softer, lower-as he leaned close, "To make a little one with you. We can go on all week."

My breath hitched. My cheeks burned. My curiosity died right then and there.

"Shut up!" I shoved his arm with a half-laugh, burying my flustered face in my hands. "You can't be helped."

He threw his head back, laughing loudly now, covering his face with both hands like watching me get flustered was his new favorite entertainment.

After that, we went to the beach.

By the time we reached, the sky had softened into deep indigos and watercoloured pinks, like the world was slowly folding itself into peace. The breeze was cool but comforting, and the scent of sea salt lingered in the air like a familiar melody-sweet and steady.

Taehyung kicked off his shoes and folded the hem of his trousers up to his calves. Then, without a word, he crouched down to help me roll up my jeans too.

Then walked ahead, silent, and I followed-barefoot into the cool, grainy softness of the sand. The waves shimmered under the fading sunlight, and our shadows stretched long behind us.

There weren't many people. Just scattered silhouettes, distant laughter carried by the wind, and the rhythmic sound of waves-crashing, retreating, again and again. Like a lullaby only the sea could hum.

We didn't talk.

He kept his hands in his pockets, glancing out at the horizon. Then he turned back and stretched his hand toward me.

"Come here," he said.

I took it.

We walked down to where the ocean met the land, our feet sinking slightly into the damp sand. When the tide kissed our toes, I gasped-it was cold, shockingly cold. I yelped and instinctively grabbed onto him.

He laughed, boyish and bright, tugging me closer. "Scaredy-cat" he teased, and then, without warning, pulled me to stand on top of his feet.

I giggled, holding onto his shoulders for balance as the waves rolled in again. "You're going to freeze."

"Worth it" he grinned, holding me securely, like this moment-this exact one-was worth any discomfort in the world.

"I always wanted to bring you here," he murmured, his forehead gently brushing mine. "Not for something dramatic. Just... us." He slid his hands slowly down to rest on my waist. "Should we make this a thing? Every weekend, maybe?"

I nodded, barely holding back a dreamy sigh. "I feel lucky," I whispered. "That I get to do life with someone like you."

He didn't reply immediately. Instead, he leaned in and kissed my nose so softly I barely felt it, then pulled me into a warm back hug, wrapping his arms around me from behind as we both faced the horizon.

The sun dipped lower, kissing the waves goodnight.

"You bet?" he whispered against my hair. "I'm luckier."

Then, as if to say thank you-he kissed my shoulder-for existing. For running red lights. For cold coffee. For love. And with his arms around me, the world felt like it could stop spinning-and I wouldn't even mind.

--------------

As we stood near the little corn cart, biting into our steaming hot cobs slathered with butter and chilli, I could've sworn heaven was real-and it was grilled.

The wind tousled my hair, the ocean hummed softly behind us, and Taehyung smiled like the world was finally in the right place.

Then his phone rang.

He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and immediately hissed under his breath before rejecting the call. I blinked but let it go. He deserved one night without interruptions.

But a few seconds later, it rang again. Same caller.
He silenced it with a sigh, stuffing the phone into his pocket like it had insulted his ancestors.

"Why?" I whined through a mouthful of corn. "Who is it?"

"Jimin," he muttered, chewing irritably. "Persistent little menace."

"You should pick up, Taehyung!" I said, wiping my hand on a napkin. "It could be something important."

He groaned. "Important? Important like 'let me call you right when you're having a moment with your wife' important?" He scoffed. "That guy was born to ruin my romance."

I snorted. "I swear, you act like he's your sworn enemy."

"He is when I'm trying to flirt with my wife in peace."

And just as he said that, my phone started ringing.

I glanced at the screen and held it up, smirking. "Jimin."

"Told ya," I hissed, before answering the call. "Hello-"

"KIM YN-FINALLY!"
I yanked the phone away from my ear with a wince. Even the corn vendor looked concerned.

"Is Taehyung with you?" Jimin shouted.

"Yep," I replied, cautious now.

"Tell him," Jimin barked, "that if I see him, I'm going to bury him sixteen feet underground!"

I blinked at confused Taehyung, what did he do to piss off Jimin so hard?

But then Jimin's voice dropped-suddenly low, shaky. "Yn... can you both please come?" He exhaled, and something about the way he sounded made my stomach twist. "Fatima just went into labour. We just reached the hospital."

I froze. The wind felt different now-too fast, too sharp.
"What?" I choked out. "Jimin, we're coming. Right now."

Taehyung stood straighter, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Please," Jimin said, his voice now breaking around the edges. "Can you stop by my apartment on the way? I-I forgot to bring Fatima's maternity bag. You have the spare keys, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded quickly. "I do. Don't worry."

"Thanks. Just-please come fast. I don't know what to do, Yn."
He sounded like a little boy who'd lost something in the middle of a storm.

"Jimin," I said, steadying my voice despite the way my heart raced, "Hey, you're okay. You will be okay. We're coming. Just send the location, alright?"

He hummed something close to a sob before cutting the call.

I turned to Taehyung, eyes wide. "We have to go. Now!"

"What happened?" he asked, instantly alert.

I didn't even slow down. "Fatima's in labour," I called over my shoulder as I broke into a run. "We need to pick up her maternity bag from their apartment first!"

He stood frozen for just half a second, then blinked and sprinted after me, shoes in one hand, half-eaten corn in the other.

"Why do these things always happen during snacks?!" he yelled breathlessly.

________________________

We burst into the hospital, the sterile scent of antiseptic hitting me like a wave. My mind was a blur, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. My hands trembled uncontrollably, and my legs wobbled, barely holding me up-a chaotic blend of excitement and dread churned in my chest.

Just as I was about to keep running down the hallway, Taehyung pulled me back by the wrist, gentle but firm. I blinked up at him, startled.

He pointed toward the nurse at the reception desk.
Right.
We weren't in a K-drama-we had to ask.

I nodded quickly, trying to steady myself, clutching the bag tighter to my chest like it was the only solid thing keeping me grounded. Taehyung walked up and spoke to the nurse, calm and composed like always. His quiet confidence made me feel like I could breathe again, even if just for a second.

He returned soon, eyes steady. "Labour room's down this hallway-straight, then to the right."

"Okay," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Then louder, more rushed, "Okay, let's go-"

"Yn."
He stopped me again.

And this time, he didn't just hold my wrist-he hugged me. His arms wrapped around me softly but securely, his hand rubbing slow circles along my back, grounding my spiraling thoughts. I didn't even realize how badly I needed that until it happened.

"Everything's going to be alright" he whispered, and then pressed a kiss to my cheek before pulling away, still holding my hands in his. His palms were warm; mine, ice cold.

I nodded, heart still pounding, but steadier now. Not because I wasn't scared, but because I wasn't scared alone.

The hallway was eerily empty, no one waiting outside. I set the bag on a bench and peered through the small glass window of the labour room door. Inside, doctors moved with practiced precision. Jimin stood by Fatima's side, her hand clutched in his as she writhed, her cries of pain piercing the air.

The raw, guttural sound sent a chill through my veins, freezing me in place. Taehyung's hand found my shoulder, turning me gently to face him. He guided me to sit beside the bag, his touch a quiet reassurance.

"It's okay," he said. Then, a scream-louder, primal-tore through the air, making even Taehyung's breath catch.

Our eyes met, wide with disbelief. I grabbed his arm, pulling him to sit beside me. For once, he was speechless, the shock rendering him silent.

"It's okay" I said, my voice trembling as I tried to comfort him too.

"That sounded like a T-rex" he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent.

"I know, right?" I replied, my heart pounding in my ears, the echo of Fatima's scream still ringing through the sterile corridor.

We stayed there, still and silent, for what felt like hours but was probably just minutes.

The screams from inside the labour room came and went in waves, each one tugging at my nerves like guitar strings pulled too tight. I couldn't tell if it was the panic, the tension, or just the sheer weight of the moment, but my eyes stung, and my heart refused to settle.

Taehyung sat beside me, his thumb brushing over my knuckles again and again, grounding me. Every few seconds, he'd glance sideways at me-as if just checking I was still breathing.

"This is a nightmare" he mumbled under his breath, barely loud enough to hear.

"I'm so scared, Tae" I whispered, my voice low and shaky.

Then, abruptly, the world stilled. The screams stopped. No cries, no sounds-just an aching, deafening silence.

I shot to my feet, the bench squeaking beneath me. "Taehyung-"

He was up in an instant, eyes sharp with alertness.

And then-a cry. Soft at first, then piercing, raw, and pure. A new life announcing itself. The baby.

My hands flew to my mouth, tears spilling over as my heart lurched. "Oh my god..."

Taehyung stared at the door, wide-eyed. "Is that-?"

"Yes, yes!" I gasped, my voice breaking with joy. "That's the baby. That's their baby!"

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, a dazed smile breaking across his face. I flung myself into his arms, our hearts racing in sync, his quiet fear mirroring mine beneath the warmth of his embrace.

"Now that's a baby T-rex" he said, making me laugh through sobs, my face buried in his chest.

The labour room door creaked open. Jimin stepped out slowly, like he was still trying to believe he was on this side of it all. His eyes were red and puffy, his hair was damp and wild, shirt clinging to his back from the heat and panic of it all-but the smile on his face?

It was the softest, brightest thing I'd ever seen.

"Jimin!" I ran forward, tears blurring my vision.

He didn't say anything-just pulled me into the tightest hug, arms trembling around me. I felt him shake, not from panic anymore, but from everything that came after.

"She's okay," he whispered. "She did it. She's... she's incredible. And the baby..." his voice broke with wonder, "he's perfect, YN. So tiny. Like a rabbit. A really loud rabbit."

I let out a soft laugh through my tears. "It's a boy?"

He nodded, wiping at his eyes. "Yeah. A little boy. Mine."

Taehyung stepped forward, softer than I'd ever seen him. "Congratulations, man."

Without a word, Jimin pulled him into a hug too. It was quick, tight, and surprisingly quiet for two grown men who normally couldn't spend five minutes together without bantering. For once, there was nothing to joke about. Just emotion. Just gratitude.

Then Jimin pulled back, giving me a crooked smile. "You're an aunty now."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "God, don't make me cry again."

Taehyung slipped beside me, his hand coming around my shoulder protectively. "And you," he said to Jimin with a smirk, "are a father now."

"Yeah," Jimin grinned, then added, "But that doesn't change the fact that you're officially an uncle now."

Jimin laughed, and I joined in, clutching my stomach as we high-fived, our laughter echoing in the sterile hallway.

"Yeah, very funny,"

Taehyung scoffed, feigning a pout.

"Aww" I teased, pulling him into a side hug as he pretended to sulk.

"Look who's the real baby here" Jimin quipped, smirking.

Then, the nurses emerged, one cradling a tiny bundle. Our breaths caught, the world narrowing to that small, perfect form.

Jimin took the baby in his arms with reverent care, and the nurses stepped back, their soft "awws" fading as they left.

We gathered around, drawn like moths to a flame, gazing at the newborn. His tiny face, scrunched and pink, was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen-a fragile, miraculous spark of life.

And this was the most beautiful day of our lives.

_______________________

A/n:- They're so perfect, they make me delulu. And no one but I'm at fault at this.