Annyeongz One-shots

53. Prank ( 2 )

He stood in front of the mirror of a small tattoo store tucked between a laundromat and a convenience shop, tugging his hoodie down like it might hide the fact that his palms were sweating.

"Are you sure?" the tattoo artist asked for the third time, eyebrow raised, clearly amused.

Yujin swallowed. He nodded a little too quickly. "Yeah. I'm sure."

This was ridiculous. He hated needles. Absolutely hated them. Hospitals made him dizzy, and even blood tests had him gripping Wonyoung's hand like his life depended on it. His wife knew this. That was exactly why this prank would work.

The artist smiled and reached for a sheet instead of a needle. "Relax. It's a temporary tattoo. No pain. Just a little patience."

Yujin let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Good. Because if my wife finds out I lied about this being permanent-"

"She'll kill you?" the artist finished for him.

Yujin laughed nervously. "She might."

When the artist peeled the backing away and pressed the image onto his back, Yujin craned his neck, trying to see. It was Wonyoung. Not a cartoon. Not abstract. A detailed, soft image of her smiling-her eyes gentle, familiar, dangerous in the way only his wife could be.

"Damn," the artist muttered. "That's your wife?"

Yujin smiled without thinking. "Yeah."

When he walked out of the store, hoodie pulled back on, heart pounding with excitement and guilt, he already pictured her reaction. The way her voice would sharpen. The way her eyes would soften afterward. He loved her too much not to tease her a little.

That night, the apartment was warm and quiet. Wonyoung sat on the bed with her legs tucked beneath her, scrolling on her phone, hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She looked up when she heard the rustle of clothes.

"I'm going to shower," Yujin said casually, like he hadn't been rehearsing this moment all day.

"Mm," she hummed, not looking up.

He turned his back to her and pulled his shirt over his head slowly-too slowly. Cool air brushed his skin. He felt it before he heard it.

The silence.

Then the phone slid onto the bed with a soft thud.

"...Yujin."

Her voice was different. Low. Careful.

He hid his smile. "Yeah?"

"Don't move."

He felt the mattress dip as she stood. Footsteps-slow, hesitant-approached. Her fingers hovered, not touching, like she was afraid the image might disappear if she breathed too hard.

"What," she whispered, "is that?"

Yujin pretended to stretch. "Hmm? Oh. That."

"Turn around." Her voice tightened. "Now."

He turned, and the look on her face hit him harder than he expected. Shock. Heat. Anger crashing together. Her eyes traced his shoulders, his chest, the familiar lines of his body-and then flicked back to his face.

Her jaw clenched. "You got a tattoo?"

He nodded once. Calm. Too calm.

"On your back?" She stepped closer. "A real one?"

"Yes."

"And it's-" Her voice cracked. "It's me?"

"Yes."