Jimin closed his eyes, letting her words sink in. He had always been running, hiding in the shadow of his family's expectations, trying to find his own way. But now, for the first time, he realized that YN wasn't just accepting him for who he was-she was pushing him to be more. She was helping him see the strength he had within himself.
He opened his eyes again, locking onto hers, his voice filled with determination. "I'm not the Scribbler yet, but I will be. I will become that person for you, for us. I'll fight, not because anyone is making me, but because I want to. And I'll do it for you, for the love we have."
YN's eyes softened as she reached up to brush a tear from his cheek. "I believe in you, Jimin. I always have."
Jimin pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace, feeling her warmth and love surrounding him. "Thank you for believing in me, Muffin. I don't deserve it, but I'll make sure I become the man you deserve."
YN rested her head against his chest, her heart full. "You already are, Jimin. You just need to see it too."
At evening the soft sound of sizzling filled the kitchen as YN and Jimin worked side by side, preparing dinner. The warm golden glow of the overhead lights bathed the room in a cozy ambiance. Jimin couldn't help but steal glances at YN as she focused on the recipe, her brows furrowing in concentration.
"What's so funny?" she asked, catching his amused smile.
"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head and looking back at the vegetables he was chopping. But the smile lingered. He couldn't help it. The thought of their upcoming marriage made his chest swell with a happiness he hadn't known he could feel.
As YN reached over to stir the pot, Jimin leaned closer, whispering teasingly, "You know, I might be better at this than you."
YN shot him a playful glare. "Oh, really? Care to prove it?"
"Maybe next time," he laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "For now, I'll just follow your lead, Chef."
She rolled her eyes but smiled, handing him a spoon to taste the sauce. "Tell me how it is."
Jimin tasted it thoughtfully, then nodded. "Perfect. Just like you."
YN laughed softly, nudging him with her elbow. "Stop being cheesy and focus. I'm going to take a quick shower. Can you take out the food from oven after fifteen minutes?"
"Got it," he said, giving her a playful salute.
As she disappeared upstairs, Jimin hummed to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He couldn't stop thinking about how lucky he was.
Upstairs, after her shower YN stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe, her damp hair cascading down her back. She grabbed a towel and began drying her hair, but a thought struck her, and she paused.
Peeking out of the bedroom, she called down the stairs, "Jimin? Did you check the food?"
No response.
Frowning, she stepped halfway down the staircase, scanning the kitchen and living room. The oven was off, but Jimin was nowhere to be seen.
"Jimin?" she called again, her voice echoing slightly. "Where are you?"
As she walked back toward the kitchen, she sighed in relief at the sight of the oven turned off and food placed on table. Just as she was about to leave the room, Jimin suddenly appeared in the doorway, startling her.
"Ahh! Jimin!" she yelped, clutching her chest. "You scared the life out of me! Where were you?"
Jimin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he just stood there, his eyes fixed on her with an unreadable expression. Slowly, a playful smirk curved his lips as he stepped closer.
YN frowned, confused. "What's with that look? What are you-"
Her words faltered as Jimin's gaze traveled over her, his eyes darkening slightly. She suddenly remembered she was still in her bathrobe, her damp hair clinging to her skin.
"Jimin," she said cautiously, taking a step back, "why are you looking at me like that?"
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I was just thinking...you look absolutely stunning right now."
Her cheeks flushed. "I-I need to get dressed."
"Do you?" he asked, his smirk widening as he closed the distance between them.
YN's back hit the counter, leaving her nowhere to go. "Jimin," she warned, her voice shaky but not entirely convincing.
"I didn't know damp hair and a bathrobe could look this fascinating," he whispered, leaning in just enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against her skin.
Her heart raced, and she tried to sidestep him, but he blocked her with ease.
"Jimin, stop teasing," she muttered, her voice faltering as he reached out to brush a strand of wet hair from her face.
"I'm not teasing," he replied, his tone soft but intense. "You're breathtaking, doll."
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