The next morning, I woke up in the arms of Kim Jongin. His breathing was steady, so he must have been asleep. Careful not to wake him, I gently moved his arm so that I could get up. He stirred slightly, but stayed asleep.

After washing up, I headed downstairs to get some coffee. Holding a steaming mug, I headed into the living room and the TV, something I had never really gotten the chance to do at my new home. Life felt surprisingly normal, for once.

"Hey," a voice said beside my ear; I jumped, nearly spilling coffee all over myself. I looked up to see a smiling Jongin. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I grumbled. "Just don't do that next time."

Jongin sat down next to me on the couch, staring at the TV screen. I studied him out of my peripheral vision; his hair was still messy from sleep, and he sat quietly, leaning his head against a pillow. "There's coffe, if you want any."

"Hmm," he said, eyes closed. "I don't feel like moving."

"Why don't you go back to sleep? It's pretty early; only eight in the morning." A thought came to me. "Actually...aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Today's Saturday."

"Oh, is it?" I sighed and put the mug down. After a moment of hesitation, I leaned against him. Jongin didn't say anything, but he didn't do anything to let me know that it was okay, either. Unsure of what to do, I sat back up, but his arm reached around my shoulders and pulled me back so that I was once again leaning against him.

"I couldn't get any sleep while you were gone," he confessed, eyes still closed.

I felt horrible. "Why are you up, then? Go back to sleep."

"Come with me." He cracked open an eye, staring at me.

"Alright, then. Let's go." I stood up, taking my coffee and following Jongin upstairs. He lay down, burying himself under the covers, but his eyes remained open. He looked at me.

Putting my mug on the nightstand, I sat down, leaning against the headboard, and reached out to play with his hair. "I think you need a haircut," I said, realizing how forward we were with each other now that we knew what life was like without the other.

"Tomorrow," he mumbled, starting to fall asleep. I smiled, and headed downstairs to wash my mug once I was done with the coffee. I went to the piano to practice for the first time in a while, and lost track of time. When I looked up, however, Jongin was sitting quietly on the couch on the other side of the room, cleaned and looking refreshed, listening. "I didn't know you played piano," he said.

I shrugged. "I used to take lessons. It's been a while, though."

"So what do you want to do?" Jongin asked.

"I don't really want to do anything. I just want to have a normal day here at home doing whatever it is that newlyweds normally do together."

Jongin had slowly been walking over as I talked, and once I finished my sentence, he was standing directly in front of me, so close that I could smell him. I looked up at him, and watched as he leaned down so his face was in front of mine. "Me too," he whispered, and closed the distance between our lips.

Unlike our "first kiss" at the wedding, it seemed as though Jongin actually meant it this time around. As he pulled away, he wrapped his arms around me and said, "Sorry. I've been wanting to do that for a while."

"It's fine. Me too, actually."

Jongin laughed, but soon grew serious. "I'm so glad you're back," he mumbled into my hair as his arms tightened around me.

I hugged him closer as well. "I was so scared. Sehun..."

Jongin tensed. "I haven't asked you yet, but I've been meaning to. What did he do to you?"

"Ahh..well...after I tried to get away, and was caught, Yifan put Sehun in charge of me. So every night, as a form of punishment and reminding me that I was powerless, he...ahh..." Seeing the look on Jongin's face though, I added, "No, no, he never...actually did it. Yifan always managed to intervene in time. How, I don't know. Unless he had cameras in the room. But then why would he be watching what Sehun...nevermind." I shivered and buried my face in Jongin's chest. "I just never want to see those people ever again."

He was silent for a while. "My kissing you doesn't bring up any bad memories of that, does it?"

"No. If it did, you would know. And besides, oppa, you're different. You're not trying to hurt me. And you're my husband, and I love you."

Jongin seemed shocked at my words; quite honestly, I was too. But it was true, and I felt a weight being lifted off my shoulders as I said them. Jongin smiled. "I love you too, Jung So Eun. I love you too." And like that, he kissed me again.

I was feeling lightheaded as he pulled away. I told him as much, saying, "I'm going to go upstairs to lay down."

Jongin gave me a devilish grin. "Did you want me to come along?"

I swatted at him. "You're the reason why I'm dizzy in the first place. No. Go eat something."

Without argument, Jongin patted me on the head and went into the kitchen. Back in my room--our room--I blushed furiously as I recalled what had transpired between us.

The rest of the day passed by fairly quickly, and Jongin moved all of his belongings from downstairs back up to the main bedroom. That night, as we lay side by side, Jongin said, "I think we should call each other by something other than just our names."

"Like nicknames?"

"Yeah." He turned to look at me. "How about yeobo?"

I made a face. "It's so cheesy and awkward. No. Why can't I just call you oppa?"

"You'd still want to call me oppa when we have kids and grow older? Imagine us as an old couple, with you calling me 'oppa' even though I'm about seventy years old."

"It'd still work. You'd be older than me, wouldn't you?"

"The point is, no. It's fine for now, but what about when we have kids? Wouldn't it be awkward?"

"Yah, oppa. Who says we're going to have kids?" I was glad it was dark, because my face must have been as red as a tomato.

Jongin moved so that we were only an inch apart. "You don't want kids?" he whispered, tickling my ear.

I didn't answer; instead, I pulled the blanket over my face. But Jongin did the same, and he came even closer. "Why don't you want kids?" he asked. When I still didn't answer, he started tickling me, and I fought against him. Unfortunately, Kim Jongin was not ticklish.

The both of us lay silent, breathing hard after the brief tickling battle. "But why don't you want kids?" he asked, persistent.

"I never said I didn't want kids."

"But--" He let it drop. "Fine. So no 'yeobo.' You can't call me 'oppa' either. How about "jagi"? It's not really used between married couples, since they have 'yeobo,' but..."

"You can call me whatever you want. But until we have kids, I'm calling you oppa." I turned so that my back was to him.

"Jagi," he said directly in my ear. "So that means the sooner we have kids, the sooner you'll stop calling me oppa, hmm?"

"Ridiculous. I've never seen a guy dislike the term 'oppa' so much before." But my face was burning.

"I don't dislike it. I just think we're past that stage, yeobo." He patted my shoulder.

I cringed. "Fine, jagi."

Jongin laughed. "Alright, good night, jagiya."

"Good night, oppa."

Jongin sighed, but didn't bother me about it anymore.