You and Yeosang had been dating for nearly nine months—long enough to know each other’s quirks and comforts, long enough to fall into habits that felt like home. So when he left for the weekend to visit family, he’d asked you to water his plants. It wasn’t much, just a few succulents and a fern he’d grown oddly attached to. But between work, errands, and the stress of missing him, it slipped your mind.

When he came back through the door and noticed the dry soil, something in his expression twisted. “Seriously?” He muttered, barely glancing at the tidy apartment or the warm dinner you’d set out. “I asked you for one thing…How can you be so irresponsible?”

The second the word left his mouth, he regretted it.

You froze. Your smile faltered, and your eyes dropped to the floor, lashes fluttering as if you were trying not to cry. Your fingers fidgeted against your palm, and you mumbled a barely audible, “Sorry…”

His heart sank. What the hell was he doing?

You’d cleaned the entire apartment. Cooked his favorite meal. Probably spent hours getting everything perfect just so he could come home to something comforting. And all he did was fixate on a few dried-out plants.

“Wait—no, no, baby, I didn’t mean that,” Yeosang whispered, stepping toward you. He gently took your hands in his, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I’m so sorry. That was—God, that was cruel. I don’t care about the plants. I care about you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head. “You did all this for me? The place looks amazing. The food smells incredible. And I missed you so much. I’m so sorry I didn’t say that first.”

You didn’t respond right away, and he only held you closer, refusing to let go until he felt your fingers finally curl back around his shirt.