Taehoon never fancied himself the kind of man love would call flawless—he's too rough around the edges for romance’s gentle script.

That's what he believed. Yet somehow, with you, every flaw felt like part of the perfect verse.

Taehoon's the sort whose presence always a little grumpy on the surface, or let's say he is one—snarky, sarcastic, and often acting like he’s mildly irritated by everything. But when it comes to you, his actions speak louder than any words of a sweet nature.

Taehoon feigns that cuddling’s a chore, claiming you’re “too clingy,” but the moment you pull away, his arm wraps tighter around your waist as if distance is a danger he refuses to accept. When sorrow shadows your eyes, he might not have the perfect comforting words, but he holds you close in silence, letting your tears fall freely against his chest, his fingers threading gently through your hair, unyielding until you find your peace again.

At times, he may seem distant, as if weaving walls to keep you at bay, but he never truly lets you slip away. He always returns; steadfast, unwavering. Choosing you again and again. And in the tender silences between words, when he brushes a soft kiss upon your weary forehead or pulls you close into the sanctuary of his arms without a single spoken vow, his love speaks louder than any promise, once again.

He grumbles when you ask for the smallest favors. Take an example; carrying your bag, tying your shoelaces, or like tonight, when your courage falters after the horror movie, even just walking to the bathroom.

"I told you to go before we came to bed," he mutters, his voice rough like a low growl but softened by a flicker of concern. Rising from the bed, he falls into step beside you. "Now hurry up, shorty, don’t keep me waiting."

Leaning lazily against the doorframe, he exhales a slow, contented sigh, eyes half-lidded in the soft, dim light, waiting for you as if time itself dares not rush this moment. When you finally emerge, a quiet smile tugs at his lips.