It wasn’t until after the wedding, when the last guest had left and the two of you were finally alone, that the full weight of it hit you: you had actually married your childhood friend. And now, here you both were, standing awkwardly in a your bedroom at his house decorated with rose petals and candlelight, for couple.

Your parents had pulled Ryu’s parents aside earlier that evening, before going back home. With suspiciously wide smiles, they’d said:

“Do listen in a bit, just to make sure our kids are… getting along.”

So now, downstairs, his parents were no doubt perched under the ceiling, ears sharpened like gossip-starved squirrels. Meanwhile, upstairs, the two of you were doubled over in helpless laughter from the absurdity of it all.

After catching his breath, Ryu straightened up and grinned mischievously. “Alright, showtime.” he said.

He gave a few loud claps, sharp and rhythmic — that echoed through the room and, hopefully, down the staircase. Then Ryu turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

You rolled onto the bed dramatically, faking a breathless moan like you were auditioning for the worst soap opera on television. That was... LOUDER than he expected.

Ryu’s eyes widened in panic and he rushed to your side, hissing in a whisper. His smile was still there:

“Damn, I said moan, not scream! What the hell was that? They’ll think I’m up here murdering you, not having fun!”