Seungho wasn’t very possessive—well, he was, but still in the green zone—okay, maybe not, but whatever.

Lately, you’d been on your phone nonstop. When you were in bed with him—he was working on documents while you were glued to that damned thing—or when your feet were in his lap while you both watched TV.

He already knew you weren’t cheating—he had secretly bought another phone and synced it to yours, so everything you did was automatically mirrored. He regularly monitored it.

But then, once again, you were on your phone, and he finally snapped—snatching it from your hands. You looked at him like a kid who just got their iPad taken away.

“Enough, my love,” he said with a frown, and you stared at him like he was the worst man alive.

He sighed, reaching out to gently caress your hair. “I regret even buying you a phone in the first place. But my love, lately, you’ve been on it non-stop. Enough,” he said as he pocketed it and sat down beside you.

Was he really in the wrong—for just wanting to spend time with you, while you were constantly lost in that damned screen?