My Lovely Husband || meanie

20. You're Driving me Crazy

Mingyu

"Hey," Wonwoo's voice carries a heavy weight as he offers me a tired smile. It's far from the brightest smile I've seen from him, understandable given that it's already 2 in the morning. "Come in," I invite, widening the door to let him in. As he steps into my apartment, I notice he's wearing a slightly wrinkled white shirt, hastily tucked into black pants. His hair is disheveled, adding to his overall exhausted appearance. He looks utterly devastated, and I can't shake the feeling that I bear some responsibility for his current state.

He takes a seat on the couch, his hands fidgeting with each other as he nervously chews on his lower lip. It's clear that being in your future husband's house can be quite nerve-wracking, and just thinking about it elicits a quiet laugh from me. My amusement catches his attention, and he glances towards me, seemingly guessing what I'm thinking. His cheeks flush with a faint blush that only makes him look cuter. I can't help but chuckle and ask, "Have you eaten dinner?" just as I hear his stomach rumble audibly. This doubles my laughter, and his blush deepens as he tries to glare at me from behind his glasses-a truly endearing sight.

"I have eaten already," he protests, but as soon as the words leave his lips, another loud rumble from his stomach betrays him. I try my hardest to stifle my laughter, but when I fail to contain it, his glare sharpens, making the situation even more amusing. "Wait here," I say through my chuckles, "I'll just get us both a late-night snack, not dinner of course." Without giving him a chance to argue, I head to the kitchen to prepare some ramen for the two of us, smiling at the cozy simplicity of the moment.

When I'm halfway through preparing the egg omelettes, I notice Wonwoo standing in front of me. His sleeves are rolled up neatly, revealing his toned forearms, and the first two buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing his pale collarbone. The sight of his collarbone, sculpted as if by a divine hand, catches my breath. As he casually leans against the kitchen counter, I can't help but involuntarily gulp, quickly tearing my eyes away from him to avoid further embarrassment.

"How do you like your omelette?" I ask, changing the subject awkwardly as I turn my back to him. "I'll leave it to the chef," he laughs, and I feel my face heat up in embarrassment, realizing how inappropriate my thoughts were just moments ago. Desperately trying to clear my mind, I focus on serving us both a bowl of steaming hot ramen. As he picks up a utensil from the kitchen aisle, settling down comfortably on a wooden stool as I hand him a pair of chopsticks and hope my flushed cheeks aren't too noticeable.

I find myself unable to look away as he gently blows on his steaming bowl of ramen, patiently cooling it down before taking small, careful bites, savoring each mouthful with the same heartfelt appreciation as if it were a gourmet feast. "You're the best cook I've seen so far," he mumbles through a mouthful of noodles, bits of broth flying to the corners of his lips and glistening there. I can't help but chuckle, feeling a warm surge of affection as I reach out to pull a napkin. "I'm flattered," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper, as I lean in to gently wipe away the mess at the corner of his lips. At my touch, I sense his entire body stiffen, as though he's gripping onto the moment, and for a fleeting second, I really think he has stopped breathing altogether.

I slowly pull away, but his eyes linger on me, taking my whole appearance into his mind. The intensity of his gaze makes my heart race, and I awkwardly clear my throat as if it's enough to cut the palpable tension between us. "I thought you weren't hungry," I try to break the ice with a joke as I take my first bite of ramen. The mention of his earlier protest makes him even shyer, and I can see his face flushing with a beautiful shade of red. "S-shut up! I- I just ate it out of politeness. I can't just let you waste food," he argues, leaning his face so close to the bowl that I can barely see it. His reaction elicits a loud chuckle from me, the sound reverberating through the whole apartment and somehow easing the awkwardness of the moment.

"So, how was today?" I ask, as he finishes the last bit of broth from his ramen. His eyes narrow, a hint of frustration evident, "You really wanna know?" I shrug as I take the now empty bowl out of his hand, "We're in this marriage thing together. So, I should know." He hums, pondering on my words for a second before looking back at me with a mixture of weariness and resolve. "Well, it was a setup. I've always been open about my sexuality, but never thought of broadcasting it to the entire world," he sighs, a small smile tugging on his lips as if to reassureme. "And can you guess who orchestrated that reporter's ambush this afternoon?" he asks, a scoff escaping his mouth as his lips curl into a bittersweet smile, laden with the weight of betrayal and irony.

I can't help but scoff a little at his question, letting out a small chuckle as I rise to my feet. Gathering both bowls in my hands, I make my way to the sink, rinsing them quickly before walking back towards him with two mugs filled with coffee. "My beloved family I guess," I say mockingly as I pass him his coffee mug, leaning against the kitchen aisle with both of my hands supporting my weight on the cool surface. The gentle hum of the refrigerator nearby fills the silence, and the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, creating a cozy atmosphere. His body stiffens when his eyes flicker to mine, and with both of my hands placed firmly on either side of his proportions on the kitchen island, it feels more natural to perceive himself as being confined or trapped by my arms and with my full height towering over him, it makes him look adorably small and almost endearingly tiny.

A faint blush spreads across his cheekbones as he tentatively takes a sip of his freshly brewed coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. His action alone makes me smile victoriously. "How did you guess it's your family?" he asks, trying to shift the subject as he places his coffee cup back onto the island countertop. Part of his glasses fog up from the steam of the hot beverage, but he makes no effort to clear them. "It isn't that hard, you know," I chuckle softly, gently removing his glasses with a swift tug of my finger, watching as he blinks at me twice, his expression reminiscent of a confused cat trying to make sense of an unexpected change.

"My father needs to secure his position, which is a bit shaky right now with my uncle constantly breathing down his neck. So he needs you to tell the whole world about that you've gotten his back," I add, as I wipes his glasses with a tissue, but his eyes never leave mine for a second. I lean in, carefully placing his glasses back on his face, and The way his face turns a deep shade of scarlet is incredibly tempting, making me desperately want to lean in closer and take hold of his parted lips with a passionate kiss.

"You really are driving me crazy, Jeon Wonwoo," I exclaim, feeling a mix of frustration and exasperation. As soon as the words escape my lips, I immediately regret them, realizing that I hadn't intended to voice my thoughts out loud. When my eyes meet his, I can see a flush spreading across his cheeks, his face turning a shade so bright that I momentarily worry he's coming down with a fever.

A/N:
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