Sehun intentionally slammed the door shut with so much force the foundation of his house shook. The abrupt noise sent their heads swiveling his direction. Meeting Namjoo’s expression with hard set eyes he walked over nudging her knee with his.

“Move over.” He demanded.

“But I’m sitting here.” She complained.

“I want to sit there.” He steely commanded. “Move.”

Hwayi watched their exchange amused.

Clucking her tongue Namjoo scooted away from the arm of the couch. Sehun squeezed into the tiny space forcing Namjoo off to the side, one person away from Hwayi. Lifting his leg up he settled his foot onto the coffee table creating an artificial bridge, further creating a line between Namjoo and the cousin.

“What brings you here?” Sehun asked Hwayi.

“We were just catching up.” Hwayi’s mouth curled up like a sneaky mouse.

“What’s it matter to you?” Namjoo interrogated.

“Sounded exciting,” Sehun flatly said with a tone of not much interest. “May I know what was so funny?”

Crossing her arms, Namjoo mumbled, “Don’t tell him. He’s not going to get it.”

Hwayi still had the nerve to mischievously grin. “We were talking about the night Namjoo wore jeans to the opera. We were nearly turned away if my friend didn’t come to the rescue and let her borrow a dress.”

Sehun stared at the cousin complacently. Unable to understand the humor. Surely, Namjoo must have been a spectacle that evening dressing inappropriately to a classy event. But he did not care an inch.

He just didn’t want them to share a bubble of memories.

Hwayi’s phone rang. One glance and he said, “Looks like I should go.” Rising to his feet, “Let’s chat another time, Sehun. Too bad you came a little late.” Waving to Namjoo, “We can catch up again next time. Take care of your husband.”

Remaining indifferent, Sehun waited until the door closed. Standing he whirled on Namjoo, “Didn’t I tell you before, not to let anyone into my home?”

“He’s your cousin!” Namjoo stated. Getting to her feet she started walking away, “Geez, what are you getting so uptight about? As soon as you get home, you’re grumpy as heck.”

“Where are you going?” he went right after her. Coming around to face her. “I’m not finished.”

“Well, I am!” Namjoo spat. She intended to walk around him, go up the stairs, but he blocked her.

“I said, I’m not done with you.” He huffed. Throwing his arm back, he angrily said, “Hwayi is not just my cousin. He was your client. Do you understand that? And you were sitting there giggling with him like you were flirting with him! What if one of the housekeepers saw?”

Clenching her jaw, she glared at him. “Good, I marred your reputation. Then can I leave?”

The muscles in his neck grew tight as he in a cool breath. “I’m your husband. You should at least show me some respect.”

“We’re not married!” Namjoo blast into his face. “Stop using that as an excuse! It’s all a lie!”

Sehun blinked. The screen of anger suddenly cleared away. A sharp thorn pierced him somewhere inside.

A sheen of confusion fell over him like a haze. Saying nothing he disappeared out the door.

ꞜꞜꞜꞜꞜ

Blank, a whir of uncertainty crossed through her. Unsure what just happened.

Sehun looked hurt.

Namjoo glanced at the door. Without going upstairs, she sunk down on the couch. The quiet weighed in. She wasn’t sure why she felt guilty.

She shouldn’t be. It didn’t make sense.

She’d done nothing wrong.

Around dinnertime she sat at the table. Steam floated off the freshly cooked foods. She stared at the empty plate across from her, waiting for its occupant. A glance at the door and there was no one. Sehun hadn’t come back.

Then she showered and went to bed. After a minute she got up to open the door in case Sehun returned. Back to bed she stared at the wall. Next the ceiling. Following that his side. Empty.

Kind of strange.

Shifting closer to his bedside Namjoo curled up. Trying to figure out what had set Sehun off. He was gone so long. He always came home to eat dinner. Got ready for bed early, because he was a diligent workman. Where did he have to go anyway?

In the middle of pondering and thinking Namjoo drifted off. When she woke again the room was alit with morning rays. The empty bedside was just that, empty.

Sehun hadn’t returned.

For a while she continued to lay there. Staring at his pillow. Trying to imagine him still sleeping. Getting up Namjoo sauntered down the hall to wash up. She could smell the fragrance of breakfast on her way down the stairs. Would she have to eat breakfast by herself?

A few steps away, Namjoo paused near the opening of the kitchen when she spotted Sehun at the table. He was freshly dressed for the day. Her eyes combed over his figure, sweeping to his neatly groomed hair to the dark blue handsome button-up.

The sight of him rekindled a tiny smile onto her face, relieved. He was real. She even felt embarrassed for worrying. Clearing for some courage she walked into the kitchen and sat down. Stealing a peek at Sehun in the process. He was absorbed in his phone. Didn’t even care to take notice of her like usual.

“You’re home?” Namjoo started. Her insides pitter pattered.

“Yeah.” An uninterested reply.

Her eyes flew over the table yet to be filled. Anxious. Hopeful for a good response. “When did you get in?”

“Early.”

As in around 1AM-2AMish? Or at dawn? An hour ago, when she was still sleeping?

The tension quivered. Namjoo felt like she should apologize, but for what? She didn’t know. Then they ate and this time, Sehun didn’t bother pushing the main dish toward her. For some reason it made her uncomfortable, and it caused a pang somewhere inside she couldn’t quite explain.

He left not saying anything.

Namjoo wasn’t sure if she felt good about it.

ꞜꞜꞜꞜꞜ

He did come home early. Some five minutes to one in the morning. Namjoo was already out cold. Climbing the dark stairs quietly to discovering the bedroom door ajar, as if he might not be able to find his way to it.

Sehun had found Namjoo asleep on a quarter of his side of the bed. Curled up in almost the fetal position. Cutely. Adorably.

Carefully sitting down at the edge he’d watched her with much affection. Adjusting the blanket, scooping her hair behind her ear. And he had watched for a while.

Namjoo was right.

They weren’t legally married. Not in paper. Just held a ceremony without much litigation. She could leave anytime if not for his parents.

But he didn’t want her to go.

He was starting to see it.

Could she not stay and be with him? Her presence enlightened him. Her presence meant much more than he could define. It was fulfilling.

Sehun didn’t want her to be a star that goes around and comes around. He wanted her to shine right beside him. Stay right there, stick to him.

If only…

Tiring he’d half laid down pretending, in his own little fantasy, they were finally sleeping facing each other. They were content. They were happy. For a few hours that made up his fickle imagination.

Now he was at work wondering if he should’ve apologized earlier. Ending breakfast on a happier note than a strange ambiguous one. Yet he hadn’t been sure how to react to Namjoo. Awkward because he was still jarred by the arrow of her words. Then again, he was the one who’d gone off on her yesterday. Getting jealous just because of Hwayi. How pathetic.

He shouldn’t have cared. In fact, Namjoo must’ve been overjoyed to have someone to talk to considering her happy spurt of giggles he’d heard. Who was he to take that from her?

No one. He was just some guy who’d suddenly gotten worked up. Knowing their past relationship and allowing that to trigger his anger. Sehun had no right to lose control over his emotions.

Feeling embarrassed he massaged his forehead. Swiping his phone off the desk he decided to get it over with. Namjoo deserved the apology. The sooner the better it would be for them. Sehun didn’t want to drag out this stupid fight he’d caused.

“Hello?” An older woman’s voice.

Glancing out the corner of his eye, he asked, “Who is this?”

“It’s the cleaner.”

“Oh…” he breathed. “Where is the mistress?”

“About that,” she went on, “she’s not feeling well. She’s been in bed all morning.”

That was all he needed to know before abandoning his workstation. Zipping down the road he stopped at a pharmaceutical arriving home in as little as a few minutes. Carrying a bag of some medicine he ran up the stairs huffing and puffing. Did he need to take Namjoo to a hospital? How bad was it?

Racing into the room he found her asleep in bed hidden well under the covers. Struggling to calm his erratic breathing he walked up to her. Gently putting his palm against her forehead. She wasn’t burning up. Good news. Sighing relieved he bent down to press his lips to her temple.

He had literally run home out of his mind.

For a few hours he sat at his desk picking up the rest of his work from home. Abandoning the rest of his assignment when Namjoo started stirring. Rushing over he sat at the edge of the bed and leaned over. Her face was flushed and pale.

“Are you all right?” he worried. “Should I take you to the hospital?”

Sighing tiredly, Namjoo rolled her head over the pillow, croaking, “I’m on my period.”

He blinked, surprised. “Oh…”

Now that was something he didn’t know about.

“My cramps hurt,” she moaned. “Do you have a heating pad?”

“Well, no…” he thought about the medicine he’d purchased and felt stupid. “I have some medicine. You want to try them?”

“And some water.” She pursed her parched lips. Glancing at him, “It has to be warm water.”

“Ok. Wait a sec.” Getting up he headed down the stairs. Coming back with the specified glass of warm water. Hurrying around the bed he dug into the pharmacy bag and crawled onto his side, so he could be closer to her instead of squeezing on her side.

Pouring a couple pills onto his palm he offered them to her. Namjoo took them along with a long sip of water. Her eyes were watery when she handed the glass back. Twisting around he set it on the bedside table. Namjoo was already laying down when he turned to her.

“Where’d you go last night?” she sniffed.

“Nowhere. I just drove around.” That was the truth. Back and forth down the roads. He’d stopped to pump gas before repeating.

“I’m sorry, I won’t let Hwayi in again.” Namjoo said.

“It’s…” he wondered how to say it, “really not about him.”

Namjoo gave him a long look. Feeling like she might read through him, he adjusted the blanket over her. “Are you cold?”

“The heat makes me feel better.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you need anything else?”

“Can you get me ginger tea?”

“Does that help?”

Namjoo nodded.

“I’ll try to find some then.” He’d resort to online searching if he couldn’t find it in the store. Hopefully the pharmacy hadn’t closed.

Shifting away, Namjoo painfully mumbled, “I’m going to take another nap.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Settling down he lay on his side staring at her back, smiling. After several minutes he leaned over to confirm she was sleeping before leaving.

Heading straight to the store he went in search of ginger tea. Pulling aside an associate to show him the aisle of dry grocery. Browsing the selection with detail he read each box before picking the worthiest brand.

Namjoo wasn’t up when he returned home. Heading right into the kitchen he placed the kettle on the stove and read through the instructions on the package like he hadn’t already done so twenty times. Pouring the boiled water into a mug he let it sit on the counter to cool feeling like he was the most reliable man on earth. Doing something so simple for the person he most cared about.

While waiting he pondered over dinner. Maybe he should specifically ask the cook to prepare something nutritious for Namjoo. He wondered if there were still any more of that chicken stew from the other day. Then on one hand, his mother might inquire about Namjoo’s sickness and overreact. Namjoo probably wouldn’t be too happy about that.

Sehun’s attention came to when he heard footsteps. Namjoo was finally up.

“I made tea.” He held the cup of his effort up. Following her to the table he set the cup in front of her and waited expectantly, as if excited for her to taste something he’d made from scratch.

Grasping the mug in both her hands, she blew at the steam and took a tiny sip.

“Is it ok?” he asked full of anticipation. He wanted to know he’d done well.

Nodding, Namjoo said, “It’s good.”

He smiled when she took another sip. As if sensing his stare, she returned it over the rim of the mug.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Being with her was merely starting to set his heartbeat off. Play it cool he reminded himself.

“Did you leave work early?” Namjoo wondered.

“Not really,” he explained, “I picked up some assignments from home. I didn’t miss much.”

“That’s surprising. You always nitpick about missing work.”

He smiled because she remembered that much about him.

In the end, he didn’t ask the cook to make anything specific for Namjoo. Tonight, he had dinner from home. Sehun also offered her the last main dish. Happily watching her wolf down every last bite.

When he stepped into the shower that evening, he wondered when Namjoo would be comfortable enough to cram her necessities with his. He was just waiting for her to start sharing his bathroom now.

That was one of the things he wanted to see her do on her own. Put her toothbrush next to his. Her shampoo on his shelf. The bottle of body wash beside his. Hang her towel on the rack with his. Maybe one day in the far future they could just share one.

In the future they could go on another shopping trip. Resemble other couples holding hands as he pushed the cart. They could bicker over prices, what brands consisted of the best quality, how much meat and whatnot to buy.

Namjoo could teach him to make her favorite foods. Recipes he’d share with their future daughter. They’d make a mess of the kitchen. He’d forever tease and play tricks on her. Purposely make her cry and then soothe her because she would be the cutest little thing.

Sehun still wanted a little girl. Odd how that felt just right. He’d dote on her and she’d be everything adorable he ever wanted. Daddy’s little girl.

Someday in the future he wanted to be that.

A dad.

His overactive imagination had a pool of warmth spinning a tornado inside his chest.

One day.

Namjoo was already in bed when he stepped out. Switching the lights off he crept into his spot. Overwhelmingly happy he was here tonight.

“You comfortable?” he wondered.

“I’m fine.” She replied a space away.

One day, too, that gap between them might close.

“About yesterday,” Sehun reminisced, “for getting angry, I’m sorry. I crossed the line.”

“Didn’t we talk about this already?” Namjoo wondered.

“But this is my half,” Sehun stated.

“If you want,” Namjoo said, “then I shall accept.”

Hearing this brought a grin to his face. “Then, we’re even.”

“Sure, sure.” He imagined her waving him off.

“Hey,” Namjoo said.

“Huh?”

“You know that wasn’t me crying earlier, right?” Namjoo asked. “My hormones were just a little whacked up.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I mean it!” she insisted cracking a smile on his sleepy face.

***that kiss when she was sleeping ;;;; the way he's willing to do anything for her ;;;; and she missed him, she really did

***I managed to squeeze in a chapter! Hope the fluff was at least fulfilling =D Merry Christmas!