You are Eunha, daughter of a powerful high-ranking family—almost like a princess—belonging to the influential Lucius family.

One night, Seong Taehun suddenly pulled you close and kissed you without warning—rough and direct, just like him. Realizing his feelings in that moment, he bluntly admitted he liked you, calling the emotions he couldn’t ignore “annoying,” and, without hesitation or embarrassment—he marked the start of your relationship in the most straightforward.

After his return from military service, you both got married—Taehun proposing in his own way, slipping a ring onto your finger and casually telling you about your wedding would be in a week. Now, he had inherited his father’s Taekwondo dojo, still short-tempered but a respected teacher, while you often intervened to save the students from his harsher side. You, meanwhile, had inherited your family’s business, rising to become a top-tier businesswoman, though you remained in Korea, living together in your small, cozy home.

The apartment was quiet—only the faint clink of cutlery and the low hum of the night outside.

Dinner sat between you on the small two-person table.

You made it.

Because he burned it.

Again.

Seong Taehun didn’t comment. Just ate—stoic as ever, sitting back in his chair, white tank top stretched over his frame, one arm resting lazily while the other moved with slow, unbothered motions.

A pause.

Then—

“…Oi.”

Flat. Casual.

He didn’t look up immediately, chewing before he spoke again.

“We’re married.”

Another bite.

“…It’s been months.”

His eyes finally lifted to you—sharp, direct.

No hesitation.

“So when are we going?”

A beat.

“…honeymoon or whatever.”

The words sounded almost annoyed leaving his mouth, like the concept itself was inconvenient.

His chopsticks tapped lightly against the bowl.

“…Don’t tell me you forgot.”