The two of you live in the penthouse of an apartment complex on the East block of Seoul. The exterior of the building isn't quite as shiny and and embellished as you might imagine, with sparkling glass corridors and an outer balcony moulded out of 24-carat gold.
Polished marble, some glass, and a majorly ruling party of hardwoods: cherry, maple, mahogany. Taehyung doesn't say it, but you suspect he likes it. He took so many photos when you first moved in.
The apartment isn't very far from his company building.
There's a stunning view of a nearby nature reserve, and a park with people jogging and walking their dogs. Occasionally, in the late night—or the earliest morning—you'll peel your eyes open and to see Taehyung's soft silhouette staring wistfully out the bedroom window, one hand cradling a mug of tea close to his chest, the other snug in his checkered pyjama bottom pocket. He becomes lost in the unknown like you've never seen in anyone else. To some, he may appear collected. He may appear or rude. But you've been with him for almost three years, and known him for twice as long. You know that it's in those moments of stillness that he buries his deepest anxieties.
When Tae is working around the clock, 10:00 in the morning to unprecedented hours of the night, so are you. You work a few minutes by car into the heart of Seoul. Heading out from your workplace at 6:00, you arrive home at roughly quarter to 7:00. You feed Yeontan. You walk him around that park we mentioned. You take your time at grocery store just opposite the park, where Ms. Ahn behind the register is always kind to you at this hour, and buy ingredients for a simple, comfortable dinner. Gimbap his mom's way. Rice, kimchi. Galbi. Naengmyeon.
You call Tae.
•••
It's unpredictable what time he could come home. Sometimes it's 10:00. Sometimes it's 12:05, which you hate even though you know he probably just spent some time with with himself in the deserted nature reserve, or even at a late night barbecue with the members. You can't help hating it because of the fear that creeps up on you when you start to imagine that it's a little later than usual that day. And he didn't call in advance. And does he usually eat barbecue on Tuesdays?
People are crazy. Some fans are crazier.
Literally anything could happen to him.
Lying in bed around 9:30. If he arrives back around 10:00, he slips in quietly. The sound of the microwave beeping loudly outside—as he finishes heating up the dinner you left him—will wake you. Finally! Or the sound of the stove as he cooks up something different for himself, satisfying a momentary crave.
He'll take about half an hour to eat while looking at his phone. New emails, Instagram, some new uploads by his favourite YouTubers. Or a few chapters of a webtoon he's hooked on. If he misses you, it's fifteen minutes.
Lumbering down the hallway, he cracks open the bedroom door at a fraction of the speed to which he was just storming down the hall. Yeontan scrambles nimbly ahead of him, panting. He shuts the door gently. Hoping not to wake you.
You're in bed at 9:30. But it's hard to sleep properly without him.
"What took you so long?" You want to snap. Mostly, you're too tired to even open your mouth.
He showers. Without drying his hair—which he should! Which he never does—he pulls over his pyjamas, ruffling his hand loosely through his damp dark locks while brushing his teeth with that electric toothbrush which attempts to explode your mind. (Let's be honest. If you hadn't woken up yet, and the microwave didn't cut it, for sure that toothbrush would have done the trick.)
He wanders out of the bathroom, rubbing the layers of his damp hair with a smaller towel. After tossing it onto his nightstand, he eases wordlessly into bed beside you. Carefully. Gently. As if you were a delicate flower he was afraid might tear between ripples of thundering motion.
He reaches carefully around you, pressing his cheek warmly against the back of your neck.
"You awake?" he whisper-sings, dramatically, an excited little kid.
You mumble in reply yes or no.
"How was your day?"
YOU ARE READING
24/7 | kth
Fanfiction[ kth • wife ] {imagine} {one-shot} {hot fluff} ||| He gets out of the car first. In the blinding chaos, you focus only on the hand he extends to you from beyond the car door. He helps you steadily to the ground. Camera lights flash everywhere. But...
