Eyes gritty, throat dry. 

He felt like . 

Youngbae leaned hard against the headrest and closed his eyes. But much like the last few days, sleep continued to elude him.  He could hear the managers speaking in the front cabin of the company van, their quiet voices grating loudly inside his sleep-deprived mind.  Yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fall into a deep sleep – could never get into a REM state of mind.  For the life of him, Youngbae couldn’t even remember the last dream he had dreamt.  Every time he closed his eyes, he found himself opening them anxiously – checking the clock on his phone, his nerves always on edge.  He could never relax completely.  There were just too many things on his mind.

He missed her.

Minutes after his flight landed, Youngbae his cell phone only to be greeted with Amina’s text message regarding the doctor visit that he had missed this morning.  It was clinical and brief, to say the least.  Baby was doing fine.  Heartbeat was good.  A little anemia that was being looked into.  But no welcome greeting.  No sweet love notes.  That alone should have been enough to make him suspicious.  But then again... maybe she was still mad at him for Friday night.  Strangely enough, he hoped so.  He worried there was something more dire preoccupying Amina’s mind.  She had showered him with affection consistently these past few weeks.  It seemed odd that she would just… forget.

Maybe she didn’t know he was coming home today.  Did he inform her?  He couldn’t remember now.  Hell, he couldn’t remember half the things he wanted to say or if he ever did.  He was on zombie mode - his body was functioning, going through the motions and saying the right things, but his heart and mind were long gone.  Adrenaline kept him up, but exhaustion lurked in the shadows… waiting for its chance to pull him under.

“Youngbae-sshi?”

He jerked his chin automatically in response.

“We’re almost to headquarters.  Do you want us to just drop you off at your apartment?”

Youngbae grimaced.  “Take me to YG.  I’ll drive myself home.”

His manager nodded silently and informed the driver to continue onward with their destination.  Youngbae closed his eyes once more, turning the volume on his phone up to drown out the sounds around him.  But the bass of the music only seemed to annoy him; the percussions in the background an incessant ringing nuisance.  With an exasperated huff, he yanked the jack out of the small device and was immediately surrounded by a hollow jet air sound.  It was a welcome reprieve… for a brief moment.  Until he could hear the sounds of the van’s tires go over every bump in the road, the swooshing of cars that drove past them, and the noise of distant honking kilometers away. 

He gritted his teeth in agony.

The looming steel building up ahead was a welcoming sight.  As they turned into the parking garage, Youngbae jostled his foot up and down, impatient to be let out.  Once they came to a standstill, he immediately shot out of his seat and hauled his black and white Alexander Wang backpack over his shoulder.

“Do you want your luggage placed by the trunk of your car?”

He looked back and nodded curtly.  “Neh,” Youngbae bit out.  “Just put it there.  I just need to grab something and I’ll be out.”  He slid the van door open and jumped out of the vehicle.  Even with his sunshades on, the brightness of the sun was relentless as he made his way towards the front entrance of the building.  It made him even more dizzy and eager to take off. 

Just one thing. 

Just one thing and then he’d be on his way home.

Youngbae tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator lift to reach the first floor.  Once inside, he slammed the underside of his fist on the sixth floor button and leaned heavily against the metal frame, allowing his eyes momentary reprieve.  The ding of the elevator chime was the only thing that prevented him from sleeping while standing up.  He forced his eyes open and placed one foot in front of the other, silently making his way towards the executive suites.

He barely registered the blank look on Amina’s face, or the stillness of her posture, as she sat staring unseeingly at the monitor in front of her.  He was too exhausted to formulate any thoughts at the moment, save the one thing on his mind – to get home as quick as possible with wife in tow.  “Jagi…” he murmured, walking up to her desk.

Startled, Amina tensed and blinked rapidly, her eyes taking in his disheveled form.  “Bae-yah…” she breathed, genuine surprise and concern filling her voice.  A worried frown appeared on her face as soon as she completed her once-over.  Amina immediately stood up and met him halfway.  Aside from his unshaven face, she could see the tight lines around Youngbae’s mouth and a slight grayish pallor beneath his usual suntanned skin.  Immediately, her nurturing instincts kicked in.  “You just got in,” she stated the obvious, her brows knitting anxiously.

“Let’s go home,” Youngbae brusquely ordered, clasping her upper arms to him.  He felt himself tip forward and tightened his grip on her arms for balance.

Amina’s eyes widened.  She instantly pulled her hands up, bracing them both against his hard chest, and felt the weight of his body sink into her.  “Bae-yah,” she implored, her eyes now frantic and alert.  “You’re tired.  You can barely stand up.  Why didn’t you tell them to drive you home?” she whispered heatedly, feeling frustrated tears burn in the back of her eyes. 

“Let’s just go.”

“You need to sit down,” she hissed through clenched teeth.  “C’mon…” Amina tugged him towards her, walking them backwards to her chair.  “Sit down,” she begged.

He brushed her hands away in mild irritation.  His churlish voice turned hard with impatience. “Ani, just get your stuff.  Let’s go.” 

Amina stared at the stranger before her.  This was the side of Youngbae that she hadn’t seen.  She had heard about it… read about it; in her textbooks, in lecture halls, at intern meetings.  But to see the actual affects of exhaustion and stress nearly taking its toll on her husband was something she never wanted to experience in real life.  “Let me call one of the drivers to take-“

“Forget it,” Youngbae abruptly shot back.  His head was beginning to swim and black dots had started to appear in his line of vision.  He just wanted to go home.  Now.  “I’ll see you at home,” he grounded out and his heel, nearly running Yun Hee over in the process as she returned back to the office.

“Wait!” Amina exclaimed, her brown eyes turning stormy with frustration as Youngbae kept walking away.  She compressed her lips into a thin line and marched over to her desk, scrambling for her purse and shutting her computer down as fast as she could.  “Mianhae sunbaenim,” Amina choked out, her chin trembling.  She could feel herself becoming worked up and upset.  “I-I have to take my nampyeon home,” she shakily explained before sweeping out of the office. 

Yun Hee nodded jerkily, her eyes widening in alarm as she watched Amina run down the hallway towards the elevators. 

Amina gripped the seatbelt tightly against her chest.  She wondered silently what the chances were for their baby to survive if the car suddenly flipped over.  It had to be at least fifty percent, right?  With stricter regulation and safety guidelines nowadays, there had to be some sort of statistics proven to show that seatbelts saved more lives now than they did in the past.  Even if they were to get into an accident and she ended up in a coma, there had to be a significant chance that their baby could still continue to grow inside her womb until time of delivery.  That was… if she survived.

The car slowly careened into the next lane.

Amina closed her eyes and silently prayed.

A car honked beside them.

Youngbae cursed underneath his breath and righted the steering wheel.  It was the third time since they had left work that he’d lost control of his reflex skills.  The burning and sand-gritty sensation at the back of his eyes made him squint and the bright sun outside this hot July afternoon only made matters worse.  He pressed on the gas pedal and forced his eyes to concentrate.  Just a few more exits…

By some miracle, they made it to their condo parking garage.  As soon as he cut off the engine, silence engulfed them.  Amina bowed her head and shakily began unbuckling her seat belt, her numb fingers barely registering any pressure on the safety button.  His hands immediately descended upon hers.

“Don’t!” Amina crossly spat.  She pressed down on the red button again and jerked the lock out of the way.

“Mwuh?!” Youngbae exclaimed, finding his own ire rising.

“You know exactly what,” Amina furiously chastised.  Now that they were safely aground and no longer in danger of being in a freak accident, her anger came pouring out.  “You almost killed us back there,” she seethed.  “I told you to wait.  I could’ve gotten someone to drive you home-“

Youngbae scoffed in dismissal, unlatching his belt with a flick of his wrist.  Without a word, he exited the car and grabbed his bag and luggage from the trunk.  He started for the main entrance doors and headed straight for the elevators, without a second glance.  The sound of her heels trailed faintly behind him.

Wordlessly, they entered the apartment.  Youngbae headed straight for their bedroom, tossing his luggage and bag inside their walk-in closet.  He immediately began peeling off his garments, taking off his light outerwear jacket, his snapback, his bandana. He tossed his sunshades on top of the dresser and took off his rings, his bracelets. 

Amina sat her satchel on the armoire next to his belongings and cautiously watched as he shrugged out of his shoes, socks, and pants.  He kicked the pile of clothing off to the side and began tearing off his shirt.  “Shut the blinds,” he ordered, while pulling the bedcovers away.  He fiddled with his phone, setting the alarm clock for several hours from now before climbing into bed.

Like a soulless corpse, Amina went and did his biding.  She shut the blinds to their bedroom and pulled the blackout curtains closed, immediately enveloping them in darkness.  After allowing a few seconds for her eyes adjust, Amina shuffled her way back towards the closet, bending down to pick up his clothing and shoes.  She made it halfway to their hamper before he sternly beckoned for her once more.

“Jagi… come here.”

Ignoring him, Amina straightened his shoes against the wall and placed his shirt and pants in the dry cleaning garment bag.  She threw his socks and bandana into an assigned hamper for later.  Bending down, she righted his luggage so it wouldn’t block the pathway, and then went to reach for his backpack.  It was heavy.  Too heavy.  Amina yanked the bag with both hands, causing her round ligaments to strain.  A small gasp of pain escaped from her lips.  With a thud, she let go of the oversized backpack and placed a hand on her lower pelvic region where the sharp twinge occurred.  She in several short breaths and inwardly cursed at herself.

“Jagi… I said come here,” Youngbae repeated, his voice closer now.  He touched her arm only to have her jerk out of his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” Amina cried, her eyes tightly shut.  She gritted her teeth and clenched her stomach muscles to alleviate the pressure. 

Suddenly alarmed, Youngbae switched on the walk-in light and felt the wind knock out of him.  “What’s wrong?!” he exclaimed, his eyes taking in Amina’s small huddled form as she leaned heavily against the wall.  “Tell me what’s wrong!” he ordered, lowering his face to her level.  His hand immediately reached down to cover hers.  “Is it the baby?” he asked worriedly.

Amina shoved his hand roughly away.  She stared angrily into his eyes.  “Now you’re worried?”  She angled her brow haughtily at him.  “You weren’t earlier.”  She straightened as best as she could and winced slightly at the muscle pull.  Tucking an errant strand behind her ear, she continued further inside the closet.

“Is it the baby?” Youngbae asked sternly once more, his voice broking no argument.

“It’s not the baby,” Amina shot back, her voice tinged with barely concealed irritation.  “It’s just me.  I just pulled a muscle, that’s all.  You can go to sleep now.”  She started picking out clothes to change into, ignoring him completely.

But much to Amina’s chagrin, Youngbae continued to stand there.  Every time she peeked over her shoulder and pulled off a garment, he was there… silently watching her.  He watched, as she traded her work blouse and bra for a fitted white cami with support cups.  He watched as she ped her skirt and pulled on a pair of soft gray sleeping shorts.  Even when she gathered the items and sorted them according to wash type, she could feel his eyes on her.  By the time Amina finished, the sharp pain had turned to a dull numbness.  She turned around and faced Youngbae mutely, his body blocking her path to exit.  “Mwuh?” Amina challenged, wondering what he wanted from her now.

Youngbae silently regarded her.  He switched the light off inside the closet and grabbed her wrist, tightening his grip when he met her resistance. 

Amina tsked underneath her breath, annoyance burning up inside.  “Bae-yah,” she gritted out, yanking on her hand.  He pulled her along and only stopped when they came to his side of the bed.  He turned around to face her.  “Go to sleep!” she reprimanded.

“I can’t,” he whispered achingly.

The pleading sound of his voice made her pause.  Amina searched his face, could see the haunting bleakness that filled his dark brown eyes.  The fire inside her swiftly died. “What do you mean you can’t?” she beseeched, her brows furrowing in confusion.

Youngbae’s eyes flickered over her face, his mouth parting soundlessly.  “I can’t… s-sleep.”

A deep sigh of anguish escaped her lips.  “Bae-yah…” Amina brokenly sobbed, hot tears pricking the back of her eyes.  “I asked that you take care of yourself and this is what you do?”  She clenched her teeth and shoved at their clasped hands.  “When’s the last time you slept?”

He looked away, unable face the accusation in her eyes.  The reprimand in her voice shamed him deeply for some reason.  It wasn’t as if he’d never been down this road before.  He knew, more than anyone, what his limits were.  But with the recent loss of Boss, the stress of the new album, the baby, them… work had become his only outlet.  “Off and on.” Youngbae glanced back at her wearily.  “Just lay down with me.  Please.”

Amina studied the haggard lines of his face, her heart breaking with every passing second. 

“Get in,” she ordered, jerking her head towards the bed.  He relinquished their clasped hands and allowed her to pull back the comforter.  She started to move away but turned around at the sound of his small protest.  “I’m just going to the kitchen,” she grounded out.

Within a matter of seconds, Amina returned with a bottle of water.  With shaky fingers, she uncapped the lid, cold water sloshing slightly over the rim.  She shoved the plastic bottle into his hands.  “Drink it.” 

Youngbae could tell that Amina was still angry with him, the tone of her voice barely tolerable as she gritted out the command.  He watched his wife bustle around the room, grabbing a clean white face towel from their closet before leaving once more.  He could hear her in their bathroom, opening and closing a cabinet, before shutting off the light.  She returned with a small bottle of baby oil in hand.  He swallowed whatever water he could and recapped the rest before setting it on the nightstand.

He peered cautiously up at her face.

“Lay down.”

Youngbae eyed the items in her hands but slowly did as she asked.

“On your stomach,” Amina clarified, watching his head jerk to attention once more.  She threw the towel and bottle onto her side of the bed and waited for him to turn over.  He drew up his guard and stared into her eyes but eventually turned over, the muscles of his back bunching up with every movement. Once he settled into position, Amina pulled the bed covers out of the way and climbed in, straddling his hips between the softness of her thighs.  Grabbing the oil, Amina poured a small amount onto her palm before recapping the bottle.  She warmed the liquid in her hands and gently began kneading his back.

A groan of satisfaction rumbled deep from his chest.

Quietly, Amina worked her thumbs and fingers over the hollows of his back.  She paid extra attention to the muscles along where his shoulders and neck met; working out the tightness with slows deliberate circles.  Maintaining perfect pressure around the blades of his shoulders and nape of his neck, her touches eventually began to soothe his tired, restless body.  After several long minutes, the tension faded away and his body relaxed.  Youngbae felt his eyelids become heavy with growing finali