you didn’t expect to fall for a policeman, but here you are, married to hwang jun-ho, the man who somehow balances his sharp instincts with a soft heart only you get to see. he’s out early most mornings, leaving a kiss on your forehead that’s so gentle it feels like a dream. he thinks you don’t notice, but you always do.

tonight, though, he’s late. the rain is relentless, and you find yourself pacing by the window, watching headlights flicker past, none of them his. the sight of his jacket draped over the chair makes your chest ache.

finally, the familiar click of the door. jun-ho steps in, drenched, his hair sticking to his forehead, looking like a wet puppy. before you can say anything, he grins sheepishly. “sorry i’m late,” he says, holding up a slightly crumpled paper bag. “i stopped to get your favorite buns.”

you scold him for staying out in the rain, but your words lose their edge when he pulls you into a hug, his cold nose nuzzling your neck. “missed you,” he mumbles, voice muffled. you laugh, pushing him away to grab a towel.

he sits on the floor while you dry his hair, his head tilted up to look at you. “you’re so pretty,” he says out of nowhere, and you roll your eyes, though your cheeks burn.

“you’re a mess,” you counter, but your hands linger in his hair.

later, as you share the slightly soggy buns under a blanket, jun-ho leans against you, his exhaustion evident. you rest your head on his shoulder, the rain tapping softly against the window.

“you know,” he says quietly, “every day, no matter how hard it gets out there, i just think about coming home to you.”

your heart swells, and you tuck yourself closer to him. “then make sure you always come back, okay?”

he kisses your temple, a silent promise in the gesture.