Jaekyeom exhales sharply, setting the egg carton down like it might explode in his hands.
Marry her.
The words sit heavy in his chest, a thought too big to shake off, too absurd to entertain, yet too real to ignore.
His fingers flex against the counter, his pulse still uneven. He should laugh it off, push it away, remind himself that Yue would probably kill him if she even knew he was thinking this far ahead.
But instead—
He finds himself picturing it.
A home. A place that’s theirs.
Her voice filling the space, not just in passing, not just as a visitor—but as someone who belongs there.
Waking up to her. Every morning.
Watching her steal his hoodies—not because she’s staying over, not because it’s temporary, but because she lives there. Because she’s his.
Jaekyeom grips the edge of the counter, inhaling deeply.
Get a grip, idiot.
This is Yue. The same Yue who took years to let him past her walls, who only just—just—let herself admit she loved him.
And here he is, already getting ahead of himself.
The thought is reckless. Too much. Too soon.
But—
His eyes flicker toward the doorway, where she’s still curled up on his couch, half-asleep and utterly at ease in his space.
And for some reason—
It doesn’t feel like too much at all.
---
A soft grumble breaks the silence.
Jaekyeom blinks.
Then—
Another grumble.
He barely has time to process it before Yue lets out a quiet groan, shifting against the couch cushions. “Ugh,” she mutters, pressing a hand against her stomach. “Shut up.”
Jaekyeom stares.
And then—
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Are you seriously talking to your own stomach right now?”
Yue cracks one eye open, leveling him with a glare. “It’s being annoying.”
Jaekyeom huffs out a laugh, setting down the whisk. He leans against the counter, arms crossed. “You’re really something, you know that?”
“You say that like it’s new information.”
He snorts. “Fair enough.”
Another grumble.
Yue groans again, burying her face in the pillow. “I hate this.”
Jaekyeom pushes off the counter, strolling over with a lazy smirk. He nudges her foot with his knee. “What, being hungry?”
“No. Being awake.”
He chuckles. “Come on, girlfriend, get up. Breakfast is almost ready.”
The second the word leaves his mouth, he sees it.
A flicker of something—hesitation? Uncertainty?—that passes through her features before she schools them back into indifference.
Jaekyeom stills.
Girlfriend.
It had slipped out naturally, without thought. And yet—
Something about it feels strange to her.
Not bad, necessarily. Just… new.
And maybe that’s expected.
Maybe Yue needs time to get used to this, to him—to them.
Jaekyeom watches as she slowly sits up, rubbing a hand over her face. Her expression is unreadable, but he sees the way her fingers curl slightly against the fabric of his hoodie.
She doesn’t push him away. Doesn’t correct him.
She just exhales and mutters, “If you burn anything, I’m not eating it.”
Jaekyeom smirks, a quiet warmth settling in his chest.
Step by step.
“Guess I better not burn anything, then.”
____
Jaekyeom had always been good at staying focused. His ability to compartmentalize, to keep his mind fixed on the task at hand, had always been one of his strongest traits.
And yet—
Ever since that morning, ever since he woke up with Yue tucked into his arms, everything had started to feel different.
He wasn’t sure when it began. Maybe it was when he caught sight of her bare shoulder peeking from beneath the blanket, the way her hair spilled over his pillow like she belonged there. Maybe it was the way she stirred when his arm tightened around her, the small noise she made—soft, content.
Or maybe it was just the simple, undeniable truth that he had woken up happy.
Not the fleeting kind. Not the kind that faded the moment reality set in.
The kind that settled in his bones. The kind that felt like something real.
And now?
Now, his brain had decided to completely betray him.
Everywhere he turned, marriage seemed to be haunting him.
That morning, he had overheard an older couple at the café discussing wedding venues while he ordered his coffee. At work, a colleague spent the entire lunch break showing off engagement ring options for his proposal next month.
Even when he thought he was safe, it didn’t stop.
During a meeting, someone mentioned taking time off for their anniversary.
On the way home, he spotted a father lifting his kid onto his shoulders, their laughter echoing down the street.
By the time he sat at his desk that night, he was one sign away from losing his mind.
Because no matter how much he tried to shake the thought—no matter how much he told himself it was too soon, too ridiculous—it kept circling back to the same place.
To her.
To Yue.
To the idea of forever.
The thought made his throat go dry.
Would she ever want that? A home, a life together—not just as something temporary, but as something permanent?
Jaekyeom exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. He was thinking too much. He needed to slow down. Yue had just—just—told him she loved him. He should be thinking about that, not about—
The weekend.
His mind latched onto the thought immediately.
It was only Friday, but the idea of spending more time with her made something ease inside him.
She had spent the night before. They had spent time together before. But this—this was different.
This time, he wanted more.
He wanted a full weekend. No rush, no work, just them.
Cooking together again. Sleeping in, tangled in each other. Doing nothing and everything at the same time.
The thought alone made warmth pool in his chest.
His fingers hovered over his phone. Then, without thinking too hard about it, he typed out a message.
—
Jae: What’s your plan for the weekend?
—
A moment later, his phone buzzed.
—
Yue: Going home.
—
Jaekyeom paused.
Home?
He barely had time to process it before another message popped up.
—
Yue: My mom asked me to visit.
—
Something inside him shifted.
Her mother. Her family.
For some reason, the words sat heavy in his chest.
He knew enough about Yue’s relationship with them. How she never spoke about them unless necessary. How she kept a distance. He never pushed—he respected that boundary.
But now, suddenly, it felt... different.
Maybe because he had spent all day overthinking about his version of home. About sharing it with her. About building something together.
And yet—she was going home alone.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating.
Then, slowly, he typed out—
—
Jae: Want me to drive you there?
—
The response was immediate.
—
Yue: No.
—
Short. Firm. No room for negotiation.
Jaekyeom exhaled, staring at the screen.
He wasn’t sure why he felt disappointed.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected it. Yue wasn’t close with her family. Bringing him into the picture would be awkward. Out of place.
But still—
For the first time, the rejection stung.
Not because she turned him down, but because it made him realize how far away she still was.
Not from him, exactly. But from the idea of something more.
He forced himself to shake it off, typing a final reply.
—
Jae: Alright. Just text me when you get there.
—
A pause. Then—
—
Yue: Okay.
—
Jaekyeom stared at the response, a strange feeling curling in his chest.
For the first time since they had gotten together, something felt… off.
And he wasn’t sure if it was because of her—or because of the storm of thoughts he couldn’t seem to escape.