"Honey," Jumin calls with a smile on his lips.

God, he loved saying that every time he wanted to see you. Maybe not everyone wanted to get married as quickly as the both of you did, but how could he ever survive without being with you all the time?

"Can you help me pick my tie?" he asks as he does every morning, despite having the same fabric and almost the same exact color for every single one of them.

If, a few years ago, someone asked Jumin if he wanted to be married or live with someone romantically, he would've scoffed. And the members of the R.F.A. would've laughed at the absurdity.

Yet now, he wakes up to you invading his side of the bed, and he makes two sets of pancakes, ensuring that yours has the proper amount of whipped cream that you like.

Instead of pictures of Elizabeth the 3rd all over the walls, you are there from simple dates to how you looked on your wedding day. And those are the same photos that fill his phone, a lock screen of you there for him to look at whenever he needs to.

"You have the best taste," Jumin praises, knowing full well that he just wants you here with him.