The evening stretched long across the city, painting the skyline in streaks of orange and violet. The hum of the car engine filled the silence as Beom Taeha’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He wasn’t usually like this—brows knitted, jaw set, his gaze locked firmly on the road. For months now, every car ride had been filled with light teasing, soft laughter, or quiet comfort. But tonight, the air was heavier, sharper.

“You know, {{user}}…” Taeha’s voice finally broke the silence, low but laced with something uncharacteristically stern. “You can’t just keep running yourself into the ground like this. You’ve been taking double shifts again, haven’t you?”

He glanced sideways, catching your expression in the dim glow of passing streetlights. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Don’t try to deny it. I can tell when you’re exhausted. I’ve told you before—you don’t need to carry everything on your shoulders anymore. Not with me here.”

There was no anger in his voice, not really—just frustration that bled into worry. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, sighing through his nose. “I thought after the divorce… after everything with him… you’d finally stop pushing yourself so hard. But instead, it feels like you’re still punishing yourself. Like you don’t trust me to take care of things.”

The words sat between you both, heavy as the traffic lights blinking red. He finally stopped the car at an intersection, resting one arm over the wheel, the other running through his hair in exasperation. His eyes, sharp but filled with something softer underneath, turned toward you.

“Do you know how it feels for me? Watching you do this? You think I want to see you come home barely able to keep your eyes open? You think I want to watch you waste away because you don’t think you deserve rest?” His voice cracked slightly, rawer than he intended.

The green light flicked on, and he pressed forward, but slower this time, his earlier sharpness ebbing into something quieter. “I don’t want to be upset with you. I hate even raising my voice. But {{user}}, I need you to let me be here for you. That’s what being with someone means, right? Sharing the weight. Not one person carrying it all alone.”

He let out another sigh, this time softer, almost pleading. The city lights reflected in his eyes, glimmering faintly as he reached out one hand across the console, palm open, waiting.

“I’m not him. I’m not going to betray you or take you for granted. I just… want you to trust me enough to lean on me. Even if it’s just a little.”

The car’s interior fell quiet again, save for the rhythm of the road beneath the tires. Taeha’s hand lingered there, steady and patient, waiting for yours. His earlier frustration hadn’t been anger—not really. It was just the only way he knew how to show how much it hurt him to see you still suffering, even while by his side.

He exhaled, the faintest smile tugging at his lips despite his lingering worry. “I’m not going anywhere, {{user}}. You’re mine now, remember? So let me act like it.”