Minseok rifled a hand through his hair one last time before taking a quick glance in the bathroom mirror and walking back into his bedroom. He turned the light out as he went and the soft glow of the lamp on his wife's bedside table cast the room in a pleasant haze of red.

"I'm getting old," he told her as he collapsed onto his side of the bed with a forlorn sigh. She laughed at him; the sound was deep, rich, and just as enticing to Minseok as it had been the first time he heard it. Her blonde hair was tied back but strands were falling with distracting beauty into her face, and even in her ratty pajamas Wu Yi-Yi was breathtaking.

"You're not," she disagreed. Closing her book and placing the reading glasses she'd only recently started to need, Yi-Yi turned to her pouting husband and pinched his cheek. His pout deepened; she pecked it.

"Easy for you to say," he whined, wiggling his body half onto her lap so he could lay looking up into her face. "You're younger than me."

"I've always been younger than you," she teased. Her fingers carded soothing trails into Minseok's hair and he felt the tension of a long work-day slowly leave his body. "And I'm a model," she added. "The only reason the rest of the world doesn't see my wrinkles is because make-up and photoshop do a lot to hide them."

Eyes closed, Minseok stuck his tongue out at his wife. Wrinkles or no, she was still gorgeous—he didn't need to see to know that was true. Though they'd met in college, back when Minseok felt like an unbearably shy and tiny gnat who's whole world revolved around a tall, leggy, women's basketball star who barely knew he existed, he definitely thought his wife was prettier now than she'd been when they were younger. His parents liked to say that growing in love for a person would do that to your perspective; he hated to admit it, but Minseok could agree they knew what they were talking about.

"Stop staring," she ordered, after a long moment. It was amazing to him that her cheeks still flushed under his scrutiny, especially considering the world had seen nearly as much of her body as her own husband and she bore the weight of that with graceful confidence.

"Don't wanna." He was feeling particularly petulant that night—maybe the presence of a new grey strand in his hair was dragging him subconsciously back to being a child.

Yi-Yi looked down at her husband with fond exasperation. She dithered for a moment then crossed her arms over her chest. "I won't give you your present."

Minseok sat up so fast that he hit his head against the underside of her jaw. His wife whined cutely that it hurt—but only after letting out a few choice mandarin and English curse words at the pain.

"You seem to have lost your Canadian manners, love." Minseok couldn't resist.

Yi-Yi huffed and shoved him back onto his side of the bed. Now she was pouting. "You obviously don't want this." She taunted him by pulling a thick red envelope out from the top drawer of the bedside table and Minseok immediately threw himself into a poorly executed bow of apology.

"Sorry! Sorry. I've bruised your beautiful, wrinkle-free face! I'm an evil bastard! And totally undeserving."

She thought about his repentance for a moment, during which time Minseok peaked up at her from where he'd pillowed his face in the comforter and did his best to look adorably contrite. "You're forgiven," Yi-Yi said at last. "But I think I deserve some type of penance, don't you?"

Her husband knew what she had in mind, and the envelope lay forgotten against the sheets for a long while as he used his body and his lips to show her exactly how sorry he was. It was remembered much later that evening when Minseok, exhausted but practically bursting with contented happiness, rolled over snuggle up to his taller wife and brushed his bare skin against the now-wrinkled paper.

"You're enough of a gift for me," he told his sleepy wife sweetly. "But can I open this now? Please, please?"

She laughed at his excitement and kissed him lazily. "I love you, you dork."

Minseok fist pumped and sat up after kissing her back. He very carefully flipped the top out of its clasp and tipped the contents of the envelope onto the bed. Not expecting anything as trivial between them as money—though he knew that traditional lunar new year hong baos usually did contain cash—he wasn't surprised when something other than the familiar colored bills of the Korean won fell out. Still, he was confused by the thick black and white paper at first.

"What this?" He asked his wife, speaking slowly as he tried to figure it out on his own. In this concentrated effort Minseok missed that his wife's smile was sort of shy, but also bigger than usual—that huge gummy one that she saved for just him because she thought it made her ugly-looking. (He disagreed.)

"Congratulations." Her gaze was as soft as her voice, but she was also clearly ecstatic.

It was Yi-Yi's tone that told Minseok maybe he was missing something important in the situation, and with an enlightened "Aha!" he turned the black and white papers over. He then promptly burst into tears.

Eyes glistening and cheekbones threatening to break from the extent of his wide smile, Minseok picked up what he now recognized as ultrasound photos and cradled them in his hand. "You're having a baby?" When his wife nodded, Minseok started to cry again; he was masculinely emotional like that. "We're having a baby," he repeated in awe.

A few hours earlier Minseok wouldn't have believed it was possible for his life to get any better than it already was. He would have been wrong.

"Happy new year," his wife told him, brushing away the tears as they turned to laughter.

"Happy new year," her husband replied, laying back down beside her and pressing grateful kisses of utter happiness anywhere that his lips could touch. The pictures of their tiny child were still clutched tightly in Minseok's hand as husband and wife fell asleep in each other's arms.

"I can't think of a present I'd rather have than this," Minseok whispered to Yi-Yi right before succumbing to the darkness. That night he dreamt of tiny hands in his and a laughing child who was their perfect combination; like her mother, Minseok thought she was absolutely beautiful.