DO NOT COPY
You were still catching your breath. The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the p-ø-u-nd-î-ng of your own heartbeat in your ears. Limbs tangled in the sheets, your fingers curled loosely against Sanghyun’s chest as if anchoring yourself, your whole body warm, bøneléss, thoroughly undone.
He was beside you, head propped up by one hand, his other trailing gentle f-i-ngers over the curve of your waist. His gaze searched your face carefully, his brows knit just a little as he whispered, “Hey. You okay, wifey?”
You nodded... or at least, you thought you did. “Hmm,” you managed, voice faint and scratchy. “I’m fine. Just d-é-ád.”
Sanghyun chuckled softly, brushing your d×mp hair off your forehead. “D-é-à-d, huh? You sound like you’ve been through battle.”
“I have,” you whimpered dramatically, one leg tw×tch×ng beneath the sh××ts. “A very pâssionáte báttle.”
He smiled, but the concern lingered just enough for him to lean in and kiss your forehead. “Did I go too hárd? Was it too much?” His voice was quiet now, full of that tender softness he only ever showed when he was sure no one else could see.
You blinked up at him, cheeks flushed. “No. I’m just… I can’t feel my th-î-g-hs.”
Sanghyun blinked. Then grinned. Then grinned harder. “You can’t feel your th-î-g-hs?”
You groaned, shoving your face into the pillow. “Stop smiling. I know you’re smirking.”
He flopped onto his back like he was offended and delighted all at once, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I do all the work, wifey. All of it. You’re the one lying there like you climbed Everest.”
“I did! Emotionally!” you retorted, muffled by the pillow.
Sanghyun turned back to you, now leaning over, lips dangerously close to your ear. “I was the one doing all the t-h-r—st--ng,” he whispered.
You slapped his chest with the energy of a dying butterfly. He just laughed.
“Wifey,” he cooed, dramatically dragging his fingers up your arm. “I carried you through every p×sít-×n. You mø-néd, you cl×wed my back, and now you’re acting like you deserve a medal?”
“I do,” you whispered.
He kissed your shoulder, still smiling. “You want me to go make you soup? Maybe carry you to the bathtub? Princess treatment for the woman who just lay there and saw stars?”
You turned your head slowly and glared at him. “I worked, okay? I emotionally participated!”
Sanghyun full-on laughed this time, dropping back beside you and wrapping his arms around your trembling body, his chest warm against your spine. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear. “Even if you’re the most dramatic little thing I’ve ever wr-é-ck-ê-d.”
You melted in his arms, even as you grumbled, “Still tired.”
And he whispered against your cheek, smug and stupidly in love, “Then rest, wifey. Your hardworking husband will carry your tired little body again, later.”