Zhenya slammed the door shut behind him, rain dripping from his hair and blood smudged on his shirt. He looked like hell, shoulders tense, jaw set.

Taekjoo didn’t look up from the bed where he was lying, pretending to read, the lamplight casting a calm glow that didn’t match the air between them.

“Long night?” he asked flatly, eyes still on the page. Zhenya dropped his jacket on the chair and muttered, “Don’t start.”

Taekjoo’s voice was sharp. “I didn’t say anything.” Zhenya’s reply came low, strained. “You said enough last night. Still pissed?”

Taekjoo snapped his book shut, meeting his eyes for the first time. “You disappear for two days, come home looking like a crime scene, and I’m the one with the attitude?”

Zhenya’s patience cracked. “Jesus, Tae, not this again.”

Taekjoo’s voice rose. “Then what the fuck do you want me to say, Zhenya? Welcome home, honey? How was the killing?” Zhenya’s jaw clenched. “You think this life gives me a choice?”

Taekjoo’s glare hardened. “I think you like it too much.” The silence that followed was suffocating.

Zhenya stepped closer, boots leaving wet prints on the floor. “You knew who I was when you married me.”

Taekjoo’s voice dropped, cold and bitter. “Yeah, but I thought I was marrying a man, not a fucking ghost.”

Zhenya stopped right in front of him, breathing hard. “You’re cold as hell, you know that?”

Taekjoo’s reply was ice. “Maybe I learned it from you.”

Zhenya’s expression softened just slightly. “I’m trying, Tae.”

Taekjoo’s eyes burned, voice trembling. “Then fucking try harder, because I’m tired of loving someone who might not come home.”

Zhenya swallowed, words rough. “You think I want this? The blood, the fights, the fucking nightmares?”

Taekjoo shot back, “Then walk away.”

Zhenya’s voice broke into a whisper. “You’re the only thing keeping me from burning everything down.”

Taekjoo froze, his anger faltering, gaze flicking to Zhenya’s bruised knuckles and tired eyes. “Take a shower,” he muttered, the fight draining out of him. “You smell like death.”

Zhenya let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “You still love me, don’t you?”

Taekjoo turned off the lamp and slipped under the blanket. “Go to hell.” Zhenya smiled faintly, voice raw. “Already there, sweetheart.”