Yang Jeongin

The door lock clicked quietly.

Jongin entered the apartment, expecting to find the usual mess. On the way home, he again recalled his morning words:

"If I come back in the evening and the house isn't clean, our relationship is over. "

But instead of chaos, he was greeted by cleanliness and order. The floors gleamed, the kitchen sparkled, everything was in its place. He walked slowly through the rooms, smiling involuntarily.

“Stubborn…” he exhaled quietly.

A mug of long-cold tea sat on the kitchen table. It seemed you'd tried to finish everything before he returned, but you had no strength left. The thought made your heart clench uncomfortably, and the words you'd spoken that morning seemed too cruel.

You were curled up on the couch in the living room, asleep. Your disheveled hair and tired face told the story—you were exhausted trying to fulfill his request.

Jonin froze. A painful pang of guilt stabbed at his chest. He realized he'd been too cruel, but he saw how hard you'd tried.

Carefully taking the blanket, he covered you, brushed a strand of hair from your face and lightly touched your cheek with his lips.

• Thank you... You shouldn't have exhausted yourself like that.

He didn't wake you. He just sat down next to you, intertwined your fingers, and for the first time in a long time, felt like all was not lost.