Just A Few Numbers Away

Chapter 157

Soft Turns and Little Secrets

​The snow outside was beginning to thaw into a wet, heavy slush by the time mid-February rolled around, marking Aen's arrival at twenty-two weeks.

​With the media storm from Yoongi's Naver NOW broadcast slowly settling into a dull, manageable hum, the couple spent Valentine's Day completely isolated from the outside world.

There were no crowded restaurants, no flashing camera bulbs, and no elaborate public gestures.

Instead, the evening belonged entirely to the quiet warmth of their apartment.

​Yoongi had taken over the kitchen, coaxing a rich, savory scent from the stove while Aen sat comfortably at the dining table, her feet propped up on a plush velvet cushion.

Her bump, now unmistakably round beneath a soft knit sweater, seemed to carry a little life of its own-shifting and rolling whenever Yoongi's low, steady voice drifted over from the counter.

​When he finally brought plates over to the table, setting down a modest homemade dinner alongside a single, elegant bouquet of deep red roses, he pulled his chair close, his knees bumping softly against hers.

​"Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. Min," Yoongi murmured, a faint, fond smile touching the corners of his eyes as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

​Aen's lips curved into a warm smile as she looked down at the roses, then back at him.

"Our First Valentine's Day as a married couple, but definitely the most interesting one."

​"The best one," Yoongi corrected gently, his hand sliding down from her cheek to rest flat and warm against her twenty-two-week bump.

​Almost on cue, a sharp, distinct little thud met his palm.

Yoongi's breath caught, his gaze dropping instantly to her sweater as a look of unfiltered, boyish wonder washed over his face-a reaction he would never, ever show the public cameras, reserved solely for this quiet space between them.

"Feisty today, aren't you little one?" he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the fabric.

Aen let out a soft, amused breath, resting her hand over his.

"Takes after the father, clearly."

​Yoongi barked a quiet, disbelieving laugh, pressing a warm kiss to her knuckles.

"I resemble that remark."

***

Hours later, as a pale winter moon cast long, silver shadows across the bedroom floor, any lingering awkwardness of the changing shapes and growing curves melted away under his gentle, attentive hands.

​"Yoongi..." A breathy, quiet sigh slipped past her lips, her fingers tangling softly in his hair as the warmth between them deepened.

​"I'm right here, Aen-ah," he murmured against her skin, his voice a low, gravelly rasp of pure devotion as he shifted to keep all his weight off her.

"Let me take care of you."

Yoongi was endlessly careful, his touches unhurried and reverent as he reminded her that she was still desired just as much as she was cherished.

And in the quiet aftermath, as they lay tangled in the cool sheets with the quiet hum of the heater keeping the winter chill at bay, Yoongi's palm rested naturally against her belly, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles against her skin.