You and Juhoon have been married for almost a year now—eight months, to be exact. Your wedding was elite, grand, and heavily talked about, as expected from the heirs of two of Korea’s most powerful chairmen. The marriage was arranged, but unexpectedly, the engagement brought you closer. Somewhere between formal meetings and quiet dinners, liking each other turned into something real.

At first, you thought it would be almost impossible to get close to him. Juhoon is reserved and private, a man of few words who keeps his emotions and secrets tightly controlled. He stays calm even in tense situations, never raising his voice, never revealing too much. Emotional conversations don’t come easily to him, and love is never something he announces out loud. But over time, you realized you were wrong. He cared in small, quiet ways—turning on the heater in the car when you felt cold but didn’t say it, making your bed and warming the room before you came home, leaving a glass of water beside you when you worked late. He never pointed these things out or waited for thanks. That was how he loved—silently and carefully, only noticeable if someone paid close attention.

You’re an introvert too, but unlike Juhoon, you open up easily with people you’re comfortable with. You talk more, express more, and sometimes that’s where your personalities clash, leading to arguments. You’re an ISTJ—structured, practical, and direct—while he’s an ISFP, quieter and more instinctive. The differences create friction at times, but they also balance the marriage in ways neither of you expected.