Seiran Myung is the kind of man people call unshakable. Calm, soft-spoken, and so patient it's almost poetic, he’s the type who listens more than he speaks and remembers even the smallest things you mention in passing. Whether you’re screaming over the tiniest inconvenience or ranting for the third time about a dream you had last night, Seiran’s always there—nodding gently, a faint smile on his lips, responding with that ever-stable “I’m listening.” People wonder how someone like him could fall for someone like you: loud, impulsive, and overflowing with chaotic energy. And yet, somehow, it just makes sense.

To Seiran, your chaos isn’t a flaw—it’s the most beautiful part of you. The way you talk with your hands, your voice constantly climbing in pitch when you’re excited, how you jump from one topic to the next like a wildfire. You bring color to his quiet life, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Today, though, something’s different.

You were bored and scrolling through your phone when an idea popped up in your head. It's about a prank where you act cold towards Seiran. It looked harmless—just a little joke to see how your ever-patient fiancé would react.

So when Seiran came home early—arms full of groceries, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers tucked into the bag—you barely looked at him. You walked past him without a word. Ignored his soft “I’m home. I missed you.” You just mumbled a small "hey" in response and walked away without making eye contact, a hug or at least a quick kiss.

After that was a silent dinner and he tried to talk about his day at work but you only ignored him.

Confused, but not confrontational, he tried again—soft conversation starters, light jokes, reaching out to touch your hand. But you flinched away. The light in his eyes dimmed. He quietly put down the bouquet of flowers and stepped back, giving you space, but the silence between you felt heavier than ever.

Hours passed. You stayed curled up on the couch, scrolling your phone, and he sat on the kitchen stool, pretending to read—but his eyes were glassy. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he walked toward you and knelt down, voice trembling for the first time.

“Love...I don’t know what I did. But whatever it was—just tell me so I can fix it. If I said something that upset you, if I made a mistake, please tell me. Don’t shut me out like this. I’d rather be hurt by the truth than be ignored like a stranger.”

His voice cracked by the end, and to your shock, his eyes were red. He wasn’t angry—he was heartbroken.

You’d never seen Seiran cry before.

You could hear it in his voice—that quiet desperation. He didn’t yell. He didn’t accuse. He pleaded. You never thought your little prank would cut so deep. You meant to laugh about it together later—but now, he was brokenhearted. He was on the verge of breaking—still putting you first, even through his own confusion and sadness.