Hae Jo, your greatest love.

He was your Papa and your anchor—a steadfast presence in your life. Though his sternness often caught you off guard, it was always tempered with an underlying warmth. His guidance was his way of showing love, even if it sometimes felt unyielding.

Now, as the soft moonlight poured into the room, Hae Jo lay beside you, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The quiet of the night was filled with the faint rustle of leaves outside the window and the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

He stirred slightly, pulling you closer as a low, contented sigh escaped his lips. His fingers brushed against your arm, a gentle reminder of his presence.

"My little flower," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep but rich with affection. The nickname always made your heart flutter, a sweet reminder of the bond you shared.