Kyung-jun was not prepared for this.

He had thought he would be fine—after all, they'd been together for years. He knew Minji better than anyone, had seen her in every possible way—messy-haired in the morning, in oversized sweaters, in cute sundresses, even in his hoodies that always swallowed her whole.

But this?

This was different.

Minji stepped out of the bathroom, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, slightly damp from her shower. She was wearing a pink laced nightgown, delicate and silky, draping perfectly over her figure. The dim lighting in their hotel room only made it worse—or better, depending on how one looked at it.

Kyung-jun, however, was suffering.

She looked stunning.

The second she walked in, he felt like the air in his lungs had been stolen. His heart thundered in his chest, his fingers clenched into fists at his sides to stop himself from reaching out.

She wasn't even trying. That was the worst part.

She had no idea what she was doing to him.

Minji, completely oblivious to his internal struggle, stretched her arms with a small yawn before walking over to him with a bright smile.

"Are you gonna shower, Junnie?" she asked, voice soft and sweet, as she took a seat on the bed.

Kyung-jun blinked rapidly, forcing himself to look anywhere but at the dangerous amount of exposed skin peeking from the lace. He cleared his throat, voice strained.

"Y-Yeah. In a minute."

Minji tilted her head, confused by his strange behavior. "You okay?"

No. No, he was not okay.

He was a man on the verge of losing his sanity.

But Kyung-jun wasn't about to admit that.

Instead, he simply scoffed, leaning back against the dresser with his arms crossed—keeping a very safe distance from her.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Minji hummed, clearly not convinced.

Then, without warning, she patted the empty space beside her. "Come sit with me!"

Kyung-jun hesitated.

That was dangerous territory.

"...I'm good."

Minji pouted, patting the bed again. "Junnieee, come on! I wanna cuddle!"

Kyung-jun almost choked.

Cuddle.

CUDDLE.

With her looking like that?!

If he got on that bed, there was no guarantee he'd survive.

"Later," he said, voice much tighter than he wanted it to be.

Minji frowned, clearly not understanding why he was acting weird. But then, her eyes lit up mischievously.

Kyung-jun immediately got suspicious.

"What?" he asked warily.

Minji giggled, leaning forward, resting her chin in her hands.

"Junnie," she cooed, gaze locked onto him like a predator to prey.

He stiffened.

"...What?"

"You're acting weird."

"No, I'm not."

"You are~"

Kyung-jun rolled his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm. "Minji, just go to sleep. I'll be there in a bit."

Minji, still with that mischievous look, tilted her head slightly.

"Are you avoiding me?"

Kyung-jun scoffed. "Why would I avoid my own wife?"

Minji shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe because you're really bad at hiding your flustered face?"

Kyung-jun froze.

Minji giggled. "Aha! I knew it!"

He groaned, rubbing his temples. "Minji—"

She suddenly scooted closer, her eyes sparkling with pure teasing delight.

"You're all red, Junnie~"

"I am not."

"You are."

"Go to sleep, Minji."

Minji giggled again, but then, before he could react, she reached out and cupped his face.

Kyung-jun stopped breathing.

Her hands were soft, warm, gentle, and her thumbs brushed lightly over his burning cheeks.

Her voice softened. "You're so cute when you get all flustered, you know?"

Kyung-jun clenched his jaw. He was losing this battle.

"...I swear to God, Minji."

She smiled sweetly, then—to make it worse—she leaned in and kissed his forehead.

Kyung-jun was done.

His brain completely short-circuited, his body tensed, and his ears turned fully red.

Minji, clearly satisfied with the chaos she had caused, finally pulled away and yawned again, stretching like a cat.

"Alright, alright, I'll go to sleep," she said, grinning. "Don't take too long, hubby~"

And with that, she crawled under the blankets, completely oblivious to the way Kyung-jun was literally gripping the dresser for dear life.

As soon as she closed her eyes, he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"...I'm gonna need a cold shower."

Kyung-jun barely made it to the bathroom.

The second the door shut behind him, he gripped the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. His reflection? A mess. His ears were still red, his heartbeat was still too fast, and his mind? Total chaos.

Minji was going to be the death of him.

He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto his face, trying to reset his brain. He had gone through fights, broken bones, and every kind of emotional battle—but somehow, his own wife in a pink laced nightgown had completely destroyed him.

And she wasn't even trying.

Kyung-jun exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath, "Get it together, man."

After a long, cold shower—because there was no way he was surviving a warm one tonight—he finally stepped out, wearing a plain black T-shirt and sweats. Something comfortable. Safe. Non-lethal.

He cracked open the door cautiously. Maybe she was already asleep. Maybe he was safe.

But the moment he stepped into the room—

He was not safe.

Minji was still awake, lying on her side, curled up under the blankets, her black hair spilling over the pillow like a dream. Her eyes were half-lidded, her lips slightly parted, and she blinked at him sleepily.

"You took long," she murmured. Her voice was soft, a little raspy.

Kyung-jun froze mid-step.

This woman... was too dangerous.

"Had to... cool off," he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair as he walked to the bed.

Minji scooted over, making room for him, then patted the space beside her.

Kyung-jun hesitated.

Minji raised an eyebrow. "Are you gonna sleep standing?"

He sighed, giving in, and climbed into bed beside her.

The second he lay down, Minji—completely unbothered by his internal crisis—snuggled closer, resting her head against his chest.

Kyung-jun stiffened.

Her warmth, her scent, the way she fit so perfectly against him—it was all too much.

But he wouldn't move away.

He could never move away from her.

Minji let out a small, content sigh, her fingers lazily tracing circles on his chest.

"Mm... you're warm," she murmured.

Kyung-jun swallowed hard. She had no idea what she was doing to him.

"Go to sleep, Minji," he muttered, his voice lower than usual.

She hummed in response, her hand slowly sliding up—to his hair.

And that's when he lost.

Because Minji knew. She knew exactly what made him weak.

Her fingertips brushed through his hair, soft and slow, massaging his scalp with gentle strokes.

Kyung-jun sucked in a sharp breath. His entire body melted.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair how easily she could break him.

Minji giggled sleepily. "You like it when I do this, don't you?"

Kyung-jun didn't respond. Couldn't respond.

She was too much.

His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, burying his face into her soft, vanilla-scented hair.

Minji let out a soft giggle, then—as if to completely destroy him—she pressed another gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Goodnight, my love," she whispered.

Kyung-jun squeezed his eyes shut.

"...Goodnight, wifey" he mumbled against her hair.

He was doomed. (#loser)