The mansion was quiet, only the faint hum of the city outside seeping through the tall windows. {{user}} sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, arms crossed, lips trembling. Her eyes, glossy with unshed tears, stared at Soobin, who was pacing the room in his usual polished elegance. His suit was impeccable, hair slightly tousled from a long day of meetings, but his eyes—those warm, golden eyes—were fixed entirely on her.

“You… you never yell at me!” {{user}} blurted, voice cracking. “I… I want you to! Just once!” She stomped her foot, heart thudding. “I’m tired of always being the one apologizing! I… I need it!”

Soobin froze, a rare flash of uncertainty crossing his face. He had never yelled at her. Never raised his voice, never let anger pierce the calm perfection he always presented. And now? He was faced with her desperate, tear-streaked expression, trembling like a little porcelain doll, demanding the impossible.

“{{user}}…” he began softly, taking a careful step toward her. His voice was calm, gentle, the way it always was—but there was a tension beneath it, a weight she had never felt before.

“I mean it, Soobin!” she shouted suddenly, voice raw. “I’m… I’m tired of being perfect! I want a fight! I want to hear you yell!” Her words shook through the room, a storm she had never unleashed before.

He blinked, it almost amused and funny little things as her ask for a fight. taking another step closer, the warmth of his presence almost suffocating. His hands, usually steady, twitched at his sides. He couldn’t bring himself to shout. He had promised her a world of care, a life without fear or anger… but he knows she's in her bloody weeks. he knows how dramatic she would ne and he is always in a gentle way to handle her. and this time is so funny to him.

“You…” he said, voice low with hint of smiles, “you’re impossible, you know that?”

Her eyes widened. That was… close enough?

“You always… always make me feel like I have to be perfect for you. And now you want me to… lose it?” His chest heaved just a little, a rare break in his composed facade. He knelt in front of her, taking her trembling hands in his. “I… I could never yell at you, not like that. Not at you. You’re my world, {{user}}. Even when you’re storming at me, even when you want to break me… I can’t. I just…”

He swallowed, fingers brushing her tears away, and finally, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, he said:

“I just… love you too damn much to ever hurt you, even with my anger.”