If there was anything in the world that could make you quite happy, it would be walking down memory lane and remembering the day when Kyungsoo clumsily got down on one knee and proposed.

With a ring pop of your favorite flavor.

Not that that made you saying yes harder because it was done in such a Kyungsoo-esque style that you promptly burst into tears and blubbered out your yes, much to his gratitude because that would have been rather embarrassing if you had said no and he would never hear it to the end from his band members.

Which, Joonmyun had whacked him upside the head for even thinking about proposing with a ring pop and only shook his head when Kyungsoo begged for forgiveness because hey, he thought it was cute and he couldn’t exactly afford a real ring yet.

If you’re wondering, he likes to send his money to his family and charity first before thinking about himself.

Now that you’re thinking about it, he did say he needed a new wok and you saw him ogling one in the department store a few months back…

Though, you have to admit you terribly miss Kyungsoo, who is currently in China and fumbling over basic Chinese expressions, which just makes him even more adorable than he already is. He sends a few texts every once in a while, granted that there’s hours difference in between them, but you’re more than happy to know that yes, he is alive and healthy.

You miss his cooking.

(Why does your kimchi spaghetti never taste as good as his??)

As you reminisce and frolic down memory lane, the sound of the bolt sliding back lingers in the back of your ears and it isn’t until the jingling of keys wakes you up and you sprint out of the room and slide down the wooden tile hallway in your socks (why are you wearing socks?) to stop in front of the front door opening.

Kyungsoo hasn’t noticed your grand entrance yet and you giggle like a small child before bounding over onto his back and lithely crossing your legs around his waist as he steadies himself with a tired laugh and the sound of his breathy voice makes you scramble off his back and put your head down while biting your lip.

“Sorry,” you whisper into the suddenly heavy air. His penetrating stare sends shivers down your back and he just sighs before rolling his suitcase into your room.

You sadly watch his disappearing back turn into your room and move towards the kitchen.

-

-

“How’s the dinner?” You break. Something’s not right. Maybe Kyungsoo’s just tired. But at least he smiles at you, that eye smile that makes you want to send him to bed ASAP.

He only finishes half of his dinner and noisily pushes his chair back, the wood scraping across the tile floor as he mumbles, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

-

-

Kyungsoo’s half-assed remarks send you further into a pit of despair. You guys had missed each other so much, so what happened?

You fuzzily watch his trash plummet into the garbage bag and sigh before pulling the edge of the plastic bag back over the rim of the trashcan.  The past events make your heart pound in nervousness as you lethargically pour dish detergent onto the sponge and squeeze it before lathering the dishes in soapy water. Everything suddenly becomes dreamlike, that light-headedness blocking your ears and turning your brain into a pile of muddled goo.

Nothing registers after Kyungsoo leaves for the shower. You don’t notice the sound of the shower nozzle turning on and off. You don’t hear the squeaky floorboard Kyungsoo always forgets to not step on. You don’t feel your fingers wrinkle from being in the water too long. You don’t remember putting the dishes on the drying rack. Your eyes can’t tell the difference between lights on and off.

Everything is the same, yet nothing at all.

Only the sight of Kyungsoo’s hair along with the top half of his torso shocks you a bit, making you shake your head defiantly and pad across the room to your bed. Kyungsoo immediately tenses up as you gently lay your hands on his shoulders in a motion to loosen his muscles, but that plan immediately goes out of the windbag when he shrugs your hands off.

“Soo? What’s wrong?” You tentatively ask as if you’re treading on thin ice.

And you probably are.

“Nothing,” he grunts out.

“Well, I was wondering since we haven’t really talked about it…”

You mentally watch your words flow from your tongue and onto his back, the characters crawling their way to his ears as the gears in his brain process them.

“What do you think of having a child? It’s been a year already and-“

“Are you pregnant?” He abruptly cuts in and sends you into stupor. His head turns and there’s something akin to a blazing fire in his smoldering eyes.

“N-no,” you stammer. “Soo, you’re scaring me—“

“Or did someone else knock you up?” He sneers and you slide off the bed with confusion coursing through your veins. What happened to him?

“How dare you accuse me of cheating on you, much less getting pregnant by someone else!” You yell at him after confusion transforms into anger in a matter of thirty seconds. Your feet subconsciously drag yourself to the closet  as you continue to vehemently shriek.

“All this time, I’ve said nothing but how my day was and how I missed you and hoping that you were alive and healthy and then you come home unannounced, might I add, and I figured this was supposed to be some happy reunion where we tell more stories over dinner, but no, I can’t even ask you what’s wrong without being pushed away—“

“I just don’t want to talk about it!” He uncharacteristically argues back. It’s very rare that Kyungsoo raises his voice at you and you know where this might go.

“So if you didn’t want to talk about it,” you angrily spit out while all but gently closing the closet door shut after finding your duffel bag. “I asked about your thoughts on children and you go and accuse me of having an affair—“

“Well—“

“I mean, how much more ridiculous could you get?” You continue in your spiel. Once you start, you don’t stop till the end. “I am your wife. I am a married woman who has committed myself to only one person and his name is ing Do Kyungsoo and I thought that he was a charming and understanding man who would never accuse me of something so ridiculous—“

“What am I supposed to think when you go and have lunch with your co-workers and initiate skinship with them?” He argues.

You halt in your tracks and scoff tiredly before spinning on your heel to look at him. He’s panting heavily, his chest rising and faltering noticeably just like the way yours is. You can hear your heart beating against your ribcage in your ears and you feel like your eardrums are doing the same, enlarging then shrinking.

“Kyungsoo, are we still dating or what?” You breathe into the air and feel the pricks of tears behind your eyes. “Are we still going through our first year of dating where you’d be jealous of every guy I came across? I thought you grew up.”

“I have-“

“I mean, who even told you this?” You question as you pad over to the bathroom for toiletries. Kyungsoo’s steps can be heard behind you and you peer at him from the reflection in the mirror.

He murmurs something unintelligible and you swear you heard something like “Miyoung”.

“Come again?”

“Miyoung.”

Still soft, but perceivable.

“Park Miyoung, as in your ex-girlfriend, Miyoung?”

The silence rolls over and you close the mirror door to see him nodding.

“Of course,” you chuckle. Miyoung’s still in love with Kyungsoo.

She’s made that very clear. Not that you told Kyungsoo because regardless, he had told you enough times that there were no feelings between the two of them and he would never believe otherwise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrow and you roll your own before transporting back to the bedroom. Might as well finish this argument…

“Nothing. I didn’t know she lived here. I haven’t even seen her. So what is she doing snooping around?”

“I’m sure they were all coincidences-“

“Oh really?” You challenge and cross your arms. “What did she tell you, huh?”

“She said you always went out with some co-worker of yours and just get really chummy with each other-“

“Kyungsoo, I’m naturally a skinship person with friends and Jin is a good friend of mine.”

“Well, if I knew I’d get jealous so much, I shouldn’t have married you and spend my free time worried that you might pick some other guy while I’m promoting overseas!”

Nothing has ever hurt more than this moment.

-

“______-ah?”

“What’s up, Soo?”

It’s three AM and the two of you are lying on a blanket laid across the roof and star-gazing in the lukewarm night. His hand is a bit clammy and sweaty against yours, but you squeeze it tighter because that just makes him Do Kyungsoo.

“Do you…regret this?”

Kyungsoo’s voice shakes a bit and you release his hand to turn on your side and prop your head on your hand. Your other hand fiddles with the dyed fringes on his hair before running through it.

“Regret what?”

“Us, our relationship.”

“Why would you think that?”

You’re honestly perplexed. You’ve showed nothing but love for Kyungsoo and what he does. You love to support him and his band members as they travel and promote overseas. Even though you’re not there by his side, you’re in his mind and heart, quite evidently so when he sends you random but cute text messages at odd times during the night because he forgets to account for time difference, but nothing beats hearing from your boyfriend after a long day of school and work.

“Haven’t you ever wanted something normal? No worries for cameras sneaking around, no worrying about me dying on a plane, being able to go out and hold hands without a disguise…”

Silence.

“Well,” you start after a few breezes blow by. His hand takes yours, the one that comfortingly combed through his hair, and holds onto it as if it’s the last time he’ll be able to admire how perfectly your fingers intertwine together.

“Sometimes I’m a little bit envious of normal relationships. I’d love to go without worrying about paparazzi, but honestly Kyungsoo, I love you so much that it doesn’t even matter. We’re still together. We still love each other. You’re not going to die on a plane. And my heart always belongs to you, and only you. So no, I don’t regret this.

And I never will. But do you regret this?”

“How could I?” he murmurs into the soft air as he lifts your connected hands to his lips, meeting against the back of your hand. “I would regret not getting your number that day at the studio, but never anything after that.”

 Your laugh dissolves into the polluted Seoul air with the other traces of dust and you snuggle into his warm body.

-

Kyungsoo seems to have realized what he just said and he’s never been more embarrassed by his rash choice of words.

“Wait, no, I—“

“Didn’t mean it?”

“No—yes, wait—“

It’s too late. You’ve slung the duffel bag onto your shoulder and sprinted out front door and into the night where he doesn’t call your name and the only sounds of life are the crickets and occasional passing cars.

In your entire relationship with Kyungsoo, the both of you have never regretted with being one another. The belief was that every obstacle that came along was quite inevitable, and all you had to do was take the other’s hand and overcome it.

“There will be times where I say rash things. It’s only on rare occasions when I actually mean them.”

Did he mean them this time? Was he so worried that you would be swooped off your feet right under his nose while he travels halfway across the world? Does he think you’re that easy to just fall into another man’s arms so easily when you’re married?

You ungracefully trip over a stray rock on the sidewalk and just as ungracefully pick yourself up off the street. There are nearing steps behind you and you hear your name being called, but Kyungsoo is seriously the last person you want to see right now.

A hand latches onto your arm, fingers pressing into your nonexistent biceps that are too thin to be Kyungsoo’s and you scream, fighting desperately to get away. The other hand grabs your other side and spins you around before cupping a hand over your mouth and your voice falters at the sight of your best friend.

“What are you doing out here so late?” Jinyoung asks confusingly. “You look awful.”

“Jinnie!” you wail and latch onto his waist and cry into his shoulder. Frankly, he doesn’t really know what’s going on, but if you’re sobbing this hard, then something is terribly wrong. He hugs you back and your hair while murmuring sweet nothings into the air above your head. Later, he makes a call and keeps an arm around your shoulder before guiding you to wherever he might be leading you.

When he stops, you look up to see that he’s taken you to your other best friend’s house and searches for the spare key. But there’s no need for it when Sunhee opens the door and pulls you in with Jinyoung.

She takes your duffel bag from you and disappears for a few seconds to put it in her room before detouring towards the kitchen and reappearing with ice cream pints for you and Jinyoung.

“Comfort now, talk later.”

-

-

After a tearful and hiccup-full retelling of the past two hours, Sunhee fumes and you amusedly watch Jinyoung try to calm her down. Your phone hasn’t stopped ringing for said hours and you do with a text that tells him to sleep because he has a schedule at seven in the morning. By this time, Kyungsoo just listens to you and the room lacks the sound of your obnoxious ringtone.

You tell them you’re going to turn in and crawl into bed after changing and taking a shower.

“What kind of a man tells his wife that he shouldn’t have married her!” Sunhee shrieks just meters away. You furl further into the blankets of her bed and will yourself to sleep.

But that doesn’t work when you sit up gasping and crying from reoccurring nightmares that usually go away with Kyungsoo by your side. Your whole body is covered in sweat and you furtively sneak outside her room and onto the balcony facing the street, taking your phone on the way.

Cursing at yourself for not bringing a blanket with you, you draw your knees up under your chin and hug them tightly in efforts to guard against the abnormal chilliness. Your thumb presses the lock button and you sigh at the number of missed texts and calls on the top left corner of your screen. Without looking at it, you swipe your thumb across the screen and pull down the notification center before tapping on a message.

They all say the same things: “I’m sorry.”

“Please pick up.”

“Come home.”

“Let’s talk this out.”

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“ just come home. What if there’s a drunk man outside?”

“Please come back to me…”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Are you having nightmares again?”

Your eyes linger on the last one. He still remembers?

Debating whether to wake him up or not, you end up tapping a reply to that.

“I did.”

And the reply comes quickly.

“I’ll make them go away. Please come back.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“How could I?”

“You have a schedule in two hours.”

“Caffeine is a glorious invention. Where are you? I’ll pick you up.”

“I’m…not ready yet.”

“But please…”

“You’ll see me soon. Go to sleep.”

“How soon? A day soon? A week soon? A month soon? Please…”

“D.O”

“Fine.”

And that was that.

You look back out towards the horizon and watch the sunrise with teary eyes.

-

“Soo looks like absolute . What happened?”

“I’ll tell you later, Joonmyun. Not really in the mood right now,” you groggily answer into the speaker while slowly making your way home.

“You owe me an explanation.”

“Araso, araso, I’m hanging up,” you inform before tapping the end call button and stuffing it into your pocket.

You reposition the duffel bag on your shoulder and trudge across the sidewalk leading to the bus stop, except when you see your bus about to leave, you literally gallop and smoothly step in just as the doors close. Scanning your card, you eye a seat towards the back and fall into the germ-infected cushion, but you could care less.

Joonmyun’s call confirms that yes, they’re still at their schedule, Sukira to be exact, so that means you have a good couple of hours to recollect yourself and make some lunch if he does come back. The toiletries go back into the bathroom, the clothes suspended on the empty hangers, the undergarments folded and put away, the dirty clothes in the hamper.

For the first time since you’ve entered home, you notice the photo albums strayed across the blankets on your shared queen-sized bed. They’re open on random pages, photos dating back from your dates at the dorms and in parks, that obnoxiously but endearing mask covering his mouth and nose. Some of them are you kissing the mask where his mouth would be, others are just funny selcas and random places.

Some you haven’t seen before, like the one with your sleeping face with a little caption in his handwriting that says, “Jagi’s so cute~!” and another with your back turned towards him, the cut-offs of a Ferris Wheel in the corner and hot dog stands on the sides indicating that it was at a carnival that was low-key to the public. There are more with similar captions or side remarks and you find yourself smiling at them with the happy memories flowing through your brain at a comfortable speed.

And then there are your selcas, some scattered with photobombs of Kyungsoo’s increasingly creepy and stalker-ish looking faces, but it’s just his charm and you’re afraid he might scare the future child.

The hairs on the back of your neck don’t give you enough time to react before Kyungsoo settles his chin on your shoulder as his hand moves your hair back to give him access to your neck. His heart-shaped lips press lightly against your skin and send a shiver down your back.

“I’m glad you came back,” he mouths against your skin and you gently push him back.

“I’m really sorry, baby. You know I would never regret marrying you; I just…I still get really jealous easily and—“

“That gives you enough reason to accuse me of cheating on you?”

“Please forget that, please! I really didn’t mean it,” he pleads and takes your face in between his hands and presses his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed and you can tell he truly regrets his actions because he can’t look you in the eye.

“I said I never regretted us after you reasserted me that you didn’t. I still don’t regret it, and I will never ever regret marrying you. I love you so much, _______-ah,” he whispers as his breath blows against your lips, instinctively opening at the touch.

You tilt your chin to meet his unexpected lips and his frozen posture signals his surprise. But not a moment is wasted as he responds, lips passionately but languidly dancing with yours with bittersweet tinges laced in his gratitude towards you. 

And that was that.