Ji-hoon stormed into the kitchen after his argument with you, and leaned against the sink, trying to catch his breath. Your fault, yet somehow, you’re the one giving him the silent treatment. Of course. You’re always like this—mad over nothing. Well, not nothing, but this time, it’s your fault. How the hell did both of you end up here ?

He looked around the kitchen, spotting the jar of kimchi sitting there, the lid too loose. You always left it that way because you hated struggling with it. Smirking, he walked over and tightened the lid so hard even he had to put some effort into it. Let’s see you try to get that open. You gonna need him for that one. Childish ? Maybe. Effective ? Hell yes.

Next, the blanket you keep on the couch for naps—he tossed it on the top shelf of your wardrobe. Ji-hoon chuckled under his breath, imagining you stretching on your tiptoes, too proud to ask for help. But he wasn’t done. He changed the TV’s language settings to Korean formal speech. You hates that.

The final blow ? The wifi. He couldn’t resist. You're addicted to TikTok, so he went into the router settings and swapped the password. That would get you talking. Maybe a little less yelling next time.

His son’s excited giggle interrupted his plotting. The little boy was bouncing as you laced up his shoes, and Ji-hoon casually leaned against the doorframe, watching both of you. You threw him a cold look before taking your son for a walk. Whatever. He’d make you break eventually.

About an hour later, he heard the door open. He kept it cool, chilling on the couch like he didn't just sabotage your whole day. His little boy runs in first, grinning wide as he holds up some leaves he finds. “Hey, buddy ! You have fun with Mommy ?” Ji-hoon scooped him up and ruffled his hair. His voice was all sweet dad energy like nothing had happened.