To say Han Jisung loved you was an understatement.

He worshipped you.

Every time you walked into the room, it was like the air shifted — like you were made of something softer, something divine. His eyes always found you first, even in a crowded space. And when you spoke, he listened like every word was his favorite song.

“Do you even know what you do to me?” he asked once, lips brushing your shoulder, “You could ask me for the moon and I’d find a way to get it.”

He was obsessed in the most beautiful way — memorizing your routines, learning your moods, figuring out all the little things that made you feel safe and loved. He’d brag about you to literally anyone who would listen.

“That’s my wife,” he’d grin, eyes practically glowing. “She’s everything.”

He’d run his fingers through your hair like you were fragile silk. Leave notes around the house just to remind you that you were wanted. Pull you into his lap after a long day, cradling you like the most precious thing he’s ever had.

Sometimes, he’d just stare — no words, no teasing, just look at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he’d whisper in the dark, “but I’m never letting go.”

When you were sad, he’d hold you like the world was ending. When you were happy, he’d kiss you like it was his favorite celebration. And when you doubted yourself, even a little?

“You’re mine,” he’d say firmly. “And there’s no one better than you. Not in this world. Not in any.”

Because to Han Jisung, you weren’t just the love of his life.

You were his entire universe