You had just finished cooking his favorite meal, carefully plating everything before calling out, “Jin, dinner’s ready!”

Silence.

You called again, a bit louder this time—but still nothing. With a quiet sigh, you wiped your hands on a towel and made your way upstairs, stopping at the door to his office. You knocked gently before easing it open.

There he was, hunched over his desk, one hand rubbing his temple while the other loosened his tie. The stress on his face was written in the tight lines around his eyes.

“…Seokjin?” You whispered softly.

His head snapped up. “What?”

The sharpness in his voice stung. You froze, eyes wide. But the moment his gaze met yours, his expression shifted, guilt crashing over him in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, already rising from his chair. “Baby, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you gently, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ve just had a rough day.” He murmured. “But I should never take it out on you.”