・❥・ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴜꜱʜ ʙᴏʏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ. Happily married and eagerly awaiting San's return from his mandatory military service, Wooyoung busies himself building their home and nurturing their dreams. Just as everything seems to be going perfectly, unexpec...
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»--ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ--«
Lying there in the quiet of the morning, I cherished the closeness, the soft, steady breathing of San next to me creating a soothing rhythm that filled the room. The plans for our traditional Korean wedding had infused both of us with a renewed sense of excitement and connection, deepening the bond we shared even further. As I ran my fingers through his hair, careful not to disturb his sleep, I found myself reflecting on how our lives had intertwined, how every decision and moment had led us here.
The soft light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, casting a gentle glow that highlighted San's features—his strong jawline relaxed in sleep, his eyelashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. His presence was both a comfort and a constant source of wonder to me, the way he could be so powerful yet so gentle, so commanding yet so kind.
I smiled at the thought of seeing him in a hanbok, imagining how regal he would look, how the traditional garments would suit his stature and enhance his presence. The wedding would be a celebration of our heritage, a way to honor our past while stepping forward into our future—a future that Han would also be a part of, growing up with an appreciation for his culture and his family's love.
As I kissed his forehead, San stirred slightly, his smile appearing even before his eyes opened, as if he could sense my gaze and my thoughts. He snuggled closer, his arms tightening around my waist, his warmth seeping deeper into my skin. "Morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep but filled with affection.
"Good morning," I whispered back, my heart swelling with affection. "Slept well?"
"Always better when I'm with you," he replied, his eyes opening fully now, meeting mine with that intense, clear gaze that had first drawn me to him. It was in moments like these that I felt overwhelmingly lucky to have him, to be loved by him, to share in the creation of a life so rich with love and meaning.
We lay in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying the closeness. "I was thinking about the wedding again," I confessed, the words soft but filled with excitement. "About how special it's going to be, wearing hanboks, embracing all those beautiful traditions together."
San's smile grew wider, his enthusiasm matching mine. "It's going to be incredible," he agreed, his hand reaching up to trace my jaw gently. "A perfect blend of past and present. And it means a lot, planning this with you, making sure Han grows up knowing where he comes from."
I nodded, feeling an emotional pull at the thought of sharing this part of our heritage with Han, of giving him roots that were as deep as they were broad. "He'll love it," I said, my voice confident. "And so will our families. It's not just our wedding; it's a celebration for everyone we love."
As the morning light grew stronger, filling the room with the promise of a new day, we talked about the details, about who we would invite, the music, the food—each aspect carefully considered and cherished. This was more than just wedding planning; it was weaving the tapestry of our family's future, thread by thread, with love, respect, and a deep joy that came from being profoundly connected to each other.
