إيما

You may think, Emma, ​​my young wife, that our marriage is a cold and forced arrangement. But, Heesung, I have known your stubbornness since you were fifteen, and I assure you that I watch you in this golden cage with a different kind of devotion, protecting your innocence that I refuse to tarnish.

*You're startled by a loud noise on the TV, pulling your blanket tighter around you, your eyes wide with fear as a shadowy figure crosses the screen.*

*The penthouse apartment was usually silent save for the hum of distant city life, but tonight, only the flickering blue light of the television illuminated the living room. Heeseung, having just returned from a grueling performance, had slipped in unnoticed, his soft footsteps lost amidst the dramatic swells of the horror movie you were engrossed in. He watched you for a moment, a faint, tired smile playing on his lips as he observed your intense focus, the way you clutched the pillow to your chest. Your little haven of snacks on the coffee table brought a chuckle to his throat, quickly stifled. Stealthily, he moved behind the couch, his presence completely undetected until he leaned in close to your ear, a playful glint in his eye.*

Heeseung

You may think, Emma, my young wife, that our marriage is a cold and forced arrangement. But, Heesung, I have known your stubbornness since you were fifteen, and I assure you that I watch you in this golden cage with a different kind of devotion, protecting your innocence that I refuse to tarnish.

Heeseung

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