The morning sunlight filtered ruthlessly through the sheer curtains of the master bedroom, casting a bright, unforgiving beam of light directly across my face. I groaned internally, a dull, rhythmic throb immediately vibrating right between my temples.
I slowly rolled over on the plush mattress, lifting a heavy hand to rub at my aching head. Ugh. Note to self: Never try to match a South Korean superstar shot-for-shot with local Soju ever again.
As my vision slowly cleared, the very first thing I saw was a sight that instantly made the dull throb in my skull completely irrelevant.
Lying just a few inches away from me, buried under the crisp white duvet, was Jang Woonseok.
His thick, pitch-black hair was wildly tousled across the pillows, a few stray locks falling perfectly over his forehead. Without his signature sunglasses, face masks, or baseball caps, his raw, unedited features were on full display. His long eyelashes cast soft shadows against his flawless, porcelain skin, and his lips were slightly parted in a state of deep, peaceful slumber. He looked incredibly young, profoundly soft, and so breath-takingly handsome that my breath completely caught in my throat.
Then, like a sudden avalanche of pure, unadulterated mortification, the memories of last night came violently rushing back into my brain.
The mall corridor... shouting at the arrogant girl... pointing my finger...
> "How dare you say something so utterly disgusting to my husband?!"
The neighborhood park... crying like an absolute baby over a literal bare tree...
> "I was a police officer... I locked my heart in a metal box... but you completely melted it... I am so excited to be your wife..."
A deep, violent, and utterly catastrophic blush exploded across my entire face, radiating all the way down to my neck. I buried my face in my hands, letting out a silent, screaming groan of pure psychological agony. Oh my god. I literally confessed my entire childhood fan history, cried over landscaping, and practically demanded a wedding in a public park.
I pulled my hands away slowly, looking back at his serene, sleeping face. Despite the overwhelming embarrassment, a wave of profound, liquid warmth filled my chest. I leaned in just a tiny fraction closer. Extending my hand, I gently, tentatively let my fingertips brush against the soft locks of his black hair, a helpless, tender smile breaking through my morning misery.
"I love you, Woonseok," I whispered in a barely audible, deeply affectionate tone, thinking he was completely dead to the world.
Suddenly, the corners of Woonseok's parted lips slowly, beautifully curved upward into a wide, devastatingly smug smile.
"I love you too, my Butterfly," his deep, gravelly morning voice rumbled smoothly through the quiet bedroom.
My entire body froze.
Woonseok slowly opened his dark eyes, his gaze instantly locking onto my wide, horrified face. They were sparkling with an immense, unbothered amusement and a heavy layer of pure, lovesick adoration.
"You—you were awake?!" I stammered, my voice cracking slightly as the scarlet blush on my cheeks intensified tenfold. I frantically tried to pull my hand back, a sudden wave of shy panic taking over. "Jang Woonseok! You fake-sleeping rascal!"
"I was definitely awake," Woonseok chuckled deeply, his morning voice thick and incredibly attractive.
Before I could even attempt a tactical retreat from the bed, his large, powerful arm shot out from beneath the duvet. With a single, effortless pull, he grabbed my waist and dragged my entire body flush against his solid, warm chest. He wrapped both of his long arms around me, trapping me in a tight, inescapable cuddle.
"Woon! Let me go!" I squeaked, my face buried directly against his collarbone, my heart hammering wildly. "I am completely a mess right now, and my head is spinning!"
"I don't care," Woonseok murmured into my hair, his chest vibrating against mine as he let out a lazy, deeply satisfied sigh. "You called me your husband yesterday, you confessed you've loved me since you were nineteen, and now you're whispering sweet things to me while you think I'm asleep. Do you really think I'm ever letting you out of this bed?"
"That was the alcohol talking!" I lied shamelessly, trying to push against his massive shoulders.
"Oh, really?" Woonseok smirked down at me, his dark eyes flashing with a playful, dangerous mischief. "Let's see if the alcohol is still talking then."
Without a single second of warning, his long fingers began to rapidly, mercilessly dig into my ribs.
"Ah! Woon! No! Stop it!" I shrieked, instantly bursting into a fit of wild, breathless laughter. I squirmed violently in his hold, kicking my legs beneath the sheets as his fingers continued their relentless attack. "Stop! Stop it, Mr. Idol! I survive dangerous criminal investigations, you cannot defeat me with tickling!"
"Acknowledge your confessions, Officer Rashi!" Woonseok laughed loudly, his grip tightening as he effortlessly pinned my arms, his fingers still shifting against my waist. "Say it again!"
"Never! Stop it—ahahaha! Woonseok, please!" I gasped, tears of laughter welling in my eyes.
"Ouch!"
A sudden, sharp, and incredibly violent spike of pain shot directly through the back of my skull, causing me to instantly freeze. I gasped, my hand snapping up to press firmly against my temple as my eyes squeezed shut in genuine agony.
Woonseok's laughter cut off in a fraction of a millisecond. The playful superstar vanished, instantly replaced by a deeply worried, hyper-vigilant protector. His fingers stopped moving, and his arms gently, carefully adjusted my position so I was resting softly against the pillows.
"Sana? Are you okay?" Woonseok asked urgently, his deep voice laced with an intense anxiety as he hovered over me. His large hand gently cupped my jaw, his thumb smoothing over my furrowed brow. "Is it your head? Does it hurt bad?"
"Yeah," I groaned softly, keeping my eyes tightly closed as the room spun slightly. "It... it just gave a really sharp twist. I think the Soju is officially launching a counter-attack on my brain."
Woonseok let out a soft, sympathetic sigh, his fingers gently massaging my temples with a perfect, calculated pressure.
"Your head must be completely hurting because of the hangover," he murmured softly, his tone incredibly tender. "You drank entirely too fast last night, Butterfly. Sit tight, okay? Don't move. Go get freshened up slowly, and I will go into the kitchen and make you something to eat and a proper hangover drink. Okay?"
I nodded slowly, carefully slipping out of his warm embrace and sliding out of the bed. My legs felt slightly heavy, and my head was still carrying a dull, persistent throb, but I brushed it off.
I walked into his massive, modern bathroom, turning on the warm water to wash my face. After brushing my teeth and scrubbing away the remnants of last night's exhaustion, I walked over to Woonseok's walk-in closet. Without an ounce of hesitation, I bypassed my own clothes and pulled out a pair of short athletic shorts and one of his massive, oversized thick blue knitted sweaters.
I pulled the sweater over my head. It swallowed my small frame completely, the sleeves falling well past my fingertips and the hem reaching midway down my thighs. It smelled entirely like him—sandalwood, expensive cedar, and fresh laundry. I quickly twisted my dark hair up into a messy, thoroughly chaotic bun on the top of my head, letting a few stray strands frame my face.
As I walked back out into the hallway, I paused, lifting a hand to touch the back of my neck. The dull pain in my head hadn't faded at all; if anything, it felt strangely heavy, tight, and deeply deeply deep inside my skull.
Why does my head hurt this much? I thought, my former police instincts subtly tingling in the back of my mind. I've had hangovers before during my training days, but this doesn't entirely feel like a standard alcohol crash. It feels like a heavy, localized pressure.
I let out a soft sigh, shaking my head slightly to clear the fog. Whatever. I'm probably just dehydrated and overly exhausted from everything that's been happening. A bottle of water and some food will fix it right up.
I padded quietly down the long corridor toward the open-concept kitchen. The rich, mouth-watering aroma of toasted sesame oil, garlic, and a savory broth was already drifting through the air, instantly causing my stomach to let out a loud, appreciative rumble.
Woonseok was standing by the stove, his tall, massive frame dressed in a casual pair of dark pajama pants and a matching soft blue sweater that mirrored the one I was wearing. He looked incredibly domestic, holding a wooden spoon and carefully stirring a pot of traditional Korean hangover soup (Haejangguk).
"Thank you, Mr. Idol," I said softly, walking up behind him and leaning my head lightly against his broad, solid back.
Woonseok instantly stiffened slightly in surprise, but a beautiful, deep chuckle vibrated through his spine. He turned around smoothly within my hold, wrapping his free arm around my shoulders and pulling my messy-bun-headed self into his side.
"You're very welcome, Butterfly," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. "Sit down at the island. It's almost ready."
I slid onto one of the high barstools, watching him expertly pour the steaming broth into a beautiful ceramic bowl. He placed it carefully in front of me, along with a tall glass of honey-ginger water and a small dish of side components.
"Mr. Idol, shouldn't you be getting ready?" I asked, taking a careful sip of the warm honey water. "Don't you have a massive commercial shoot today?"
"Yeah, I know, Butterfly," Woonseok replied smoothly, leanly resting his forearms against the marble counter as he watched me eat. "But the agency called while you were in the shower. The outdoor set location has a minor technical issue with the lighting rigs, so the shoot is pushed back to late this afternoon. I have the entire morning free."
"Oh, that's great," I smiled, digging my spoon into the rich soup. The warm, savory liquid instantly coated my throat, making me let out a satisfied sigh.
Woonseok's dark eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed me subtly lifting my left hand to press against my temple again. His brow furrowed. "Are you still not feeling better? Is your head still hurting that much?"
"No, it's fine," I lied quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. "It's just a stubborn headache. I'll take a quick painkiller after breakfast, and it'll clear right up."
"Okay, but after you take the medicine, you are going to lie down on the couch and let me give your head a proper massage," Woonseok commanded firmly, his voice leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation. "No arguments, Officer."
"No, Woonseok, I don't need that," I laughed softly, shaking my head. "You have a rare free morning today. You should use this time to actually relax and rest, not take care of me like a patient."
"Taking care of you is how I relax," he muttered shamelessly, a soft, boyish grin breaking through his serious expression.
We finished our breakfast in a comfortable, easy silence. Woonseok quickly cleaned up the dishes while I walked over to the living room, grabbing a glass of water and swallowing a strong painkiller.
A few minutes later, Woonseok walked out of his room, completely freshened up. He had changed into a clean, brilliantly bright blue designer sweater and comfortable lounge pants. Seeing that I was currently busy reading through some documents on my phone near the window, he quietly slid onto the massive plush sofa.
He reached over to the coffee table, picking up his personal electronic tablet.
For the past one solid week, hidden behind a triple-encrypted security folder labeled 'prosposal,' Jang Woonseok had been secretly, meticulously planning the most important mission of his entire life: The Proposal.
He opened the folder, a massive, utterly foolish, and completely lovesick grin spreading across his flawless face as he stared at the screen. He had spent hours coordinating with a private luxury maritime company. He had completely booked out an entire ultra-luxury private cruise ship for a sunset voyage . The blueprints on his screen showed a massive, beautiful deck decorated with thousands of white roses, floating fairy lights, and a custom musical arrangement.
This is going to be absolutely perfect, Woonseok thought to himself, his inner monologue screaming with a ridiculous, giddy triumph as he swiped through the digital rendering of the cruise deck. She won't suspect a single thing. I'll take her to the deck right as the sun hits the horizon, get down on one knee, and—
"Oh, Mr. Idol... that is absolutely beautiful."
Woonseok's entire soul physically left his body.
He froze into a literal statue, his fingers locking rigidly over the edges of the tablet. He slowly, terrifyingly turned his head upward.
I was standing right behind the back of the sofa, leaning over his shoulder with a casual, highly interested expression. My chin was resting almost directly against his shoulder, my dark eyes completely, wide-openly reading every single word on his tablet screen.
"Wait," I muttered, my brow furrowing as I pointed a finger directly at the digital image of the luxury yacht. "Are you planning to propose to me on a private cruise ship? Or is this massive boat layout for the actual wedding? Wow, Woon, that is so incredibly nice... but honestly, isn't a three-story cruise liner just a little bit too much for a simple proposal?"
Woonseok's jaw was literally hanging wide open. His brain had completely, utterly entered a catastrophic state of blue-screen error.
"But you know what?" I continued cheerfully, entirely oblivious to the absolute, crushing emotional devastation currently happening inside his chest. I patted his broad shoulder affectionately. "When you actually do it, just tell me the exact date and time in advance, okay? That way, I can make sure I am fully ready. I really want to wear a beautiful, specific formal dress when you propose to me. Okay, I'm going to go fold the laundry in the other room!"
With a bright, completely content smile, I turned on my heel and casually strolled out of the living room, humming a small tune.
The living room fell into a horrifying, absolute silence.
Woonseok sat on the couch for three full minutes, staring blankly at the screen showing 'Cruise Proposal Plan v1.0.' Then, he slowly let out a long, heavy, and deeply tragic sigh, burying his face directly into his hands.
"How can I be this completely, utterly stupid?" Woonseok groaned aloud to the empty room, his voice muffled by his palms as his shoulders slumped in absolute defeat. "She already saw everything. The layout, the boat, the roses... oh gosh, I wanted it to be a perfect, magical surprise! I am a global icon, why am I completely incompetent at keeping a secret from my own girlfriend?!"
By the time evening rolled around, the atmosphere in the apartment had shifted into a cozy, domestic routine. Woonseok had left for his rescheduled commercial shoot midday, leaving me alone to rest my stubborn headache, which had thankfully dulled down to a manageable, minor ache after the medicine.
Around seven o'clock, I was standing in the kitchen, happily preparing a rich, savory chicken curry and fresh rice for dinner. The heavy, aromatic spices filled the warm apartment, creating an incredibly comforting environment.
The front door electronic lock chimed, and Woonseok walked in. His broad shoulders looked slightly tired from the long hours under the studio lights, but the moment his dark eyes locked onto me standing by the stove, his entire face instantly illuminated with a brilliant, breathless smile.
"Welcome home, Mr. Idol," I smiled, wiping my hands on an apron. "Go take a quick shower to wash off the studio makeup. Dinner is almost ready."
"Yes, butterfly ," he murmured affectionately, walking past the counter to press a swift, warm kiss against my cheek before heading straight into the master bathroom.
Inside the bathroom, as the steaming hot water poured from the showerhead, Jang Woonseok was not thinking about his commercial shoot. He was currently in the middle of a high-intensity, desperate tactical brainstorming session.
The cruise ship plan is officially compromised, Woonseok thought fiercely, leaning his forehead against the cold shower tiles as the water rushed over his back. Officer Sanas situational awareness is entirely too high. If I try to take her near a boat now, she'll know instantly. I need a completely new strategy. Something classic, high-end, and entirely unexpected.
An absolute spark of genius hit him. A restaurant. A highly exclusive, historic, classic European restaurant tucked away in the mountains of Seongbuk-dong. A private glass greenhouse room surrounded by snow and candle lanterns. It's completely private, profoundly romantic, and she'll never see it coming.
Feeling an immense wave of renewed triumph, Woonseok quickly finished his shower, dried off, and threw on a comfortable pair of dark sweatpants.
Meanwhile, back in the bedroom, I was busy tidying up the space. Woonseok had left his discarded morning clothes on the edge of the bed before leaving for his shoot. I walked over, picking up his blue sweater and jeans to neatly place them into the wardrobe.
As I lifted the sweater, my hand brushed against his personal electronic tablet, which was resting completely uncovered on the nightstand. The screen suddenly lit up, displaying the open browser page he had been frantically looking at right before he jumped into the shower.
I paused, my eyes narrowing out of sheer curiosity.
Right there on the high-definition screen was a confirmed booking reservation for an ultra-luxury, historic glass restaurant in Seongbuk-dong, complete with a digital receipt and a custom note reading: 'Private Greenhouse Room - Special Proposal Arrangement.'
I blinked. A massive, completely amused, and incredibly joyful smile broke across my face.
Just at that exact moment, the bathroom door swung open, and Woonseok walked out, towel-drying his damp black hair. He looked completely refreshed, a confident, smug smirk playing on his lips as he prepared to execute his new secret strategy.
I turned around slowly, holding the tablet firmly in both hands, presenting the glowing reservation screen directly to his face.
"Woonseok," I said, my voice dripping with an immense, excited amusement as I giggled loudly. "I literally told you this morning to just tell me the exact day when you are going to propose to me! Look at this, you already booked a classic restaurant greenhouse! Okay, fine, since you went through all this trouble, I will make sure I am absolutely, beautifully ready on that day! I'll go set the dinner table now!"
With a joyous, bouncing step, I excitedly bypassed his frozen body, marching right out into the kitchen with a massive smile on my face.
Woonseok stood entirely rooted to the spot in the center of the bedroom.
He slowly raised his left hand, pinching the bridge of his nose as a wave of absolute, comedic despair crashed over his entire existence. He took a sudden, frustrated step forward, entirely blind to his surroundings.
Thud.
"Ouch!" Woonseok shrieked softly, his foot violently colliding right against the solid wooden leg of the bedside coffee table. He instantly hopped back on one foot, clutching his stubbed toe, his face contorted into an expression of sheer, tragic defeat.
"I am literally a complete idiot," Woonseok groaned deeply to himself, looking up at the ceiling in absolute, hilarious exasperation. "I thought this time she would never, ever find out! Oh god, what should I do now? She's literally scheduling her outfits around my secret reservations! I have to make this proposal special and beautiful, but my girlfriend is a literal top-tier intelligence operative!"
The delicious, aromatic warmth of the chicken curry we shared for dinner still lingered comfortably in the air of the apartment. Outside, the freezing Seoul wind continued to howl against the double-paned glass windows, but inside the master bedroom, the atmosphere was a sanctuary of pure, unadulterated comfort.
The soft, warm glow of the bedside lamps illuminated the room. I was propped up comfortably against a mountain of plush white pillows, wrapped tightly in a thick blanket, lazily turning the pages of a contemporary novel I had been meaning to finish.
Sitting right beside me, leaning back against the headboard with his long legs stretched out under the duvet, was Jang Woonseok. To the rest of the world, he was an untouchable, fiercely imposing cultural icon. But right now, dressed in his soft pajamas, he looked like a thoroughly defeated, deeply pouting golden retriever. He was staring blankly at the opposite wall, his handsome jaw set, silently agonizing over the double security breach that had completely ruined his secret master plans earlier that day.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying my absolute best to suppress the massive, bubbling amusements dancing in my chest. I deliberately turned another page of my book, letting the crisp sound break the heavy silence of the room.
"Mr. Idol?" I called out softly, my voice dripping with a highly intentional, teasing playfulness.
Woonseok didn't move his head, but his dark, intense eyes slowly slid over to look at me, blinking with a deeply dramatic, wounded expression. "Yes, Officer?"
I closed the book with a soft snap, placing it gently onto the nightstand. I turned my body fully toward him, leaning my elbow on the mattress and resting my chin in my palm. The massive, oversized sleeves of his blue sweater bunched up around my wrist.
"You are actively planning to propose to me, aren't you?" I asked, a bright, giggling smile breaking across my face. "But the real question is... why do you keep changing the plan over and over again? Aren't you going to actually tell me the layout today?"
Woonseok let out a low, dramatic groan, burying the back of his head into the headboard. "Sana, please. My professional pride as a strategist has been completely, violently obliterated."
"Hey, don't be sad!" I laughed out loud, leaning closer to him and lightly poking his solid arm. "I literally caught you two separate times in less than twelve hours! First, the ultra-luxury three-story cruise liner on the Han River. Then, the historic glass greenhouse restaurant in the mountains of Seongbuk-dong. Woon, you are a global superstar, but your operational security around your own tablet is absolutely terrible."
Woonseok turned his head to look at me, a highly frustrated but intensely fond expression taking over his flawless features. "It isn't my tablet's fault, Butterfly. It's your fault. Normal civilian girlfriends don't possess the hyper-vigilant, top-tier intelligence reflexes of a trained police officer. I am trying to organize a magical, reality-bending surprise for the woman I love, and you are treating my search history like a criminal investigation scene."
I giggled softly, the teasing warmth in my eyes slowly shifting into something profoundly tender, raw, and deep. I moved closer, sliding my hand out from the oversized sleeve to gently, lovingly touch the thick locks of his black hair, smoothing down the tousled strands.
"Even if you want to give me a massive, grand surprise... you don't have to stress yourself out like this, Woonseok," I whispered, my voice dropping into a comforting, beautiful tone. "You can just tell me a simple, beautiful place. A bench in an empty alley, a quiet room, or even right here on this bed. A simple place with you is all I truly want in this world. I don't care about the grandeur of the venue. I don't care about the cruise ships or the private greenhouse rooms. I care about you. Your heart is the only thing I want to secure. So stop worrying, okay?"
Woonseok's breath caught in his chest. The playful frustration completely vanished from his eyes, instantly replaced by a look of such profound, overwhelming adoration that it felt as though the entire room had lost its oxygen. He stared at me, his heart visibly hammering against his ribs beneath his pajama top.
I leaned in, tilting my head up slightly to press a soft, warm, and lingering kiss right against his smooth cheek. I pulled back, a heavy, exhausted yawn escaping my lips as the remnants of the hangover tiredness finally claimed my body.
"Goodnight, Mr. Idol," I murmured, my eyes already fluttering shut as I slid down beneath the heavy duvet, turning onto my side away from the light. "I am officially going to sleep. Don't stay up too late plotting your next failed mission."
Woonseok let out a rich, quiet chuckle that vibrated beautifully through the quiet room. He leaned over, his large hand gently resting on the curve of my shoulder as he bent down to press a deep, reverent kiss to the side of my head.
"Goodnight, my fierce little Butterfly," Woonseok whispered deeply, his voice thick with an unshakeable love. "Go to sleep. I just have some upcoming drama scripts I need to read through on my tablet before I close my eyes."
"Hmm... okay," I mumbled sleepily, my consciousness completely fading as I buried my face deeper into the plush pillow. Within minutes, my breathing slowed into a steady, rhythmic cadence, signaling that I was fast asleep.
The moment the rhythmic sound of my breathing confirmed I had completely entered the land of dreams, the lovesick, peaceful expression on Woonseok's face vanished.
He slowly, meticulously pulled his arm back, ensuring he didn't disturb a single fraction of the blanket wrapped around my body. He reached over to the nightstand, quietly picking up his electronic tablet and turning the brightness level down to its absolute lowest setting.
The blue light illuminated his sharp, striking profile in the darkness of the bedroom.
Jang Woonseok was currently in a state of absolute, unprecedented creative crisis. He stared at the screen, his fingers rapidly opening and closing various browser tabs. He had deleted 'Plan C' (a private helicopter ride over the city skyline) and 'Plan D' (a closed-door booking of a historic art museum) because both felt entirely too predictable now.
She knows I'm trying to go grand, Woonseok thought fiercely, his inner monologue pacing back and forth in a frantic panic. If I pick a high-end restaurant, she'll see it coming. If I try to take her to a luxury hotel lounge, her police instincts will trigger immediately. I need something that completely disrupts her analytical thinking. Something she would never, in a million years, expect from me.
The digital clock on the corner of his tablet screen clicked smoothly over to 12:00 AM.
It was officially midnight. Woonseok dropped his hands, letting the tablet rest against his lap as he let out a long, silent sigh of sheer exhaustion. He closed his dark eyes, tilting his head back against the headboard, allowing his mind to drift back through the chaotic, beautiful history of our relationship.
He thought about the sheer distance we had traveled to get to this point. He thought about the countless obstacles, the media storms, the dangerous security threats, and the absolute, unwavering fierce devotion she had shown him from the very second she arrived in his life.
Suddenly, a memories file in his brain opened up, illuminating a specific, unforgettable night from their past.
He remembered the cool night air at the observation deck of the Namsan Seoul Tower. He remembered the blinding, dazzling colors of a massive firecracker show exploding across the vast, dark canvas of the night sky, reflecting perfectly in her wide, star-filled eyes. Back then, he had hidden behind his identity as a mysterious "Woonabe," a man masked from the world, yet her presence had made him feel more visible, more real, than he had ever felt under the stadium spotlights.
Then, another memory violently collided with the first one.
He remembered last night. He remembered carrying a very drunk, very chaotic Sana on his back through the narrow backstreets of Seoul. He remembered the way her loud, childlike giggles had echoed through the quiet air as she slurred her words, pointing wildly at random neon signs, exclaiming with absolute, pure excitement about how much she deeply, truly loved amusement parks, the thrill of the lights, the rides, and the absolute freedom of childhood joy.
In the dark silence of the master bedroom, Jang Woonseok's eyes violently snapped open.
A massive, brilliant, and completely electric spark of absolute genius ignited right through his chest.
A wide, stunning, and completely uninhibited smile slowly broke across his face, spreading from ear to ear. His dark eyes sparkled with a triumphant, overwhelming euphoria. He felt an intense, ridiculous rush of absolute victory—so intense that he literally executed a tiny, silent, and incredibly goofy victory jump right there on the mattress, clenching his fist in a dramatic fist pump.
An amusement park, his mind screamed with absolute, lovesick certainty. An entire, world-class amusement park, completely closed off to the public, just for the two of us. We will ride the carousels, eat cotton candy, and right at the exact moment of sunset, when the sky turns a brilliant shade of purple and gold, I will bring her to the highest vantage point. And then... at night... a private, massive firecracker show that will light up the entire city of Seoul just for her.
It was absolute perfection. It was grand, it was deeply nostalgic, it was incredibly fun, and most importantly—it was a location Officer Sana could never analytically predict.
Woonseok carefully slid out from beneath the duvet, moving with the silent, practiced grace of a phantom. He glanced back one last time to ensure I was still sound asleep, completely buried in his oversized sweater, before quietly turning the bedroom doorknob and slipping out into the dark, silent living room.
He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the glittering lights of the Han River. He unlocked his phone, scrolled rapidly through his private contacts, and hit a name that was saved under 'Manager Choi Minho.'
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
On the fourth ring, the call connected with a sudden, loud, and incredibly exhausted rustle of bedsheets.
"Woonseok?" Choi Minho's voice croaked out through the speaker, thick with sleep, confusion, and a subtle hint of sheer terror. "Woonseok, it is literally twelve-fifteen in the morning. Did the paparazzi find the apartment? Is there a media emergency? Do I need to call the legal team?!"
"Minho, breathe. There is no media emergency," Woonseok stated calmly, his voice smooth, commanding, and radiating the absolute, terrifying authority of the Sovereign.
A loud, long sigh of relief echoed from the other end of the line. "Oh, thank god. Then why are you calling me at midnight, you insane punk? I have a production meeting with the broadcast directors at seven AM."
"I need you to book an amusement park," Woonseok delivered the line completely flatly, as if he were asking for a cup of coffee.
Silence. An absolute, dead, and utterly uncomprehending silence hung over the phone line for five solid seconds.
"I'm sorry, what?" Minho stammered, convinced he was currently having a highly vivid, stress-induced nightmare. "Did you just say you want to book an amusement park? Like... a ticket for the weekend?"
"No. I want you to buy out the entire operational lease of the main Seoul amusement park for tomorrow night," Woonseok clarified, his tone leaving absolutely zero room for argument. "From five PM onwards. I want every single gate closed to the public. I want every ride fully operational, every fairy light turned on, and absolutely zero staff on the ground except for the essential ride operators, who must be sworn to absolute, legally binding non-disclosure agreements."
"Are you completely out of your mind?!" Minho shrieked softly, his voice rising into a panicked whisper as he likely sat up violently in his bed. "Woonseok, do you have any idea how much money it costs to shut down a major metropolitan amusement park on a standard operational day?! The corporate losses, the logistics, the emergency permits—"
"I don't care about the cost, Minho," Woonseok interrupted smoothly, his voice infused with a deep, unyielding intensity. "Transfer whatever amount their corporate board demands. Use my private personal account. Double it if they hesitate. I want the park completely empty, entirely private, and completely ours by tomorrow evening."
Minho let out a defeated, whimpering groan on the other end of the line. He had been managing Jang Woonseok for years, and he knew that look in his voice. When Woonseok entered this absolute, unyielding Sovereign state, the entire corporate infrastructure of South Korea couldn't stand in his way.
"This is for Sana, isn't it?" Minho asked, his voice softening into a weary but deeply supportive tone. "You're finally going to pop the question."
"Yes," Woonseok murmured, a soft, incredibly warm smile automatically breaking through his commanding expression at the mere mention of my name. "The cruise plan and the restaurant plan failed. She caught me both times, Minho. Her police brain is too sharp. I need a venue where she can completely drop her guard and just be a happy, protected girl. This is the only way."
"Alright, fine! You crazy, lovesick lunatic," Minho sighed heavily, the sound of a pen scratching against paper already audible as he began working in the dark. "I will call the park's corporate director on his private line right now. I'll make the financial transfer happen before sunrise. Anything else, Your Majesty?"
"Yes," Woonseok added, his eyes locking onto the dark night sky outside the glass window. "I want a massive, custom-designed firecracker and pyrotechnic show organized on the main castle grounds of the park. I want it to coordinate exactly with the night sky at eight o'clock. Synchronized colors—warm golds, deep blues, and floating silver particles. Make sure the fireworks team is top-tier."
"A fireworks show too... of course, why not? Let's just buy the sky while we're at it," Minho muttered under his breath in hilarious despair. "Fine. Consider it done. Just make sure she says yes, Woonseok, because if I do all this midnight corporate negotiation and you get rejected, I am personally retiring to a monastery."
"She will say yes," Woonseok laughed quietly, his voice ringing with an absolute, beautiful confidence. "Thanks, Minho. I'll see you tomorrow."
Woonseok disconnected the call, tossing his phone onto the kitchen counter. He stood by the glass window for a few more minutes, watching the distant headlights of cars crossing the Han River bridges. The absolute weight of what he was about to do tomorrow didn't terrify him at all; it filled his entire soul with an intense, burning anticipation.
He turned around slowly, padding quietly back into the dark bedroom.
The soft, warm lighting of the room cast a beautiful, angelic glow over my sleeping figure. I had shifted slightly, pulling his massive blue sweater tightly around my chest, my face completely buried into the soft fabric of his pillow. A few dark strands of my hair were scattered wildly across my face, and my lips were slightly parted as I let out a soft, tiny breath.
Woonseok's heart completely melted into pure, liquid gold at the sight.
He quietly slid back beneath the heavy duvet, careful not to let a single cold draft hit my skin. He turned onto his side, propping his head up with his hand, staring down at my peaceful, sleeping face in the dim light.
He reached out his long fingers, his touch as light as a feather as he gently, meticulously brushed the stray dark strands of hair away from my forehead. His gaze traveled over my closed eyes, my flushed cheeks, and the soft, vulnerable curve of my jawline.
Look at you, Woonseok thought, his internal monologue overflowing with a profound, unshakeable devotion. My fierce, brilliant, and incredibly protective Officer. You spent your whole life being the strong one, the strict one, the one who carries the weight of everyone else's world on your shoulders. But tomorrow... tomorrow I am going to give you a kingdom where you never have to be strong again.
He leaned down slowly, his movement incredibly gentle, and pressed a deep, lingering, and completely reverent kiss directly to the center of my forehead. He held his lips there for a long moment, pouring every single ounce of his soul, his past, and his future into that silent touch.
He pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes sparkling beautifully in the shadows as a brilliant, breathless smile touched his lips.
"Butterfly," Woonseok whispered into the quiet night air, his deep voice carrying the absolute weight of a lifetime vow. "I love you so incredibly much. Sleep well tonight... because tomorrow is officially going to be the day everything changes forever."
He wrapped his long, powerful arm securely around my waist, pulling my sleeping body flush against his warm chest. I automatically, instinctively shifted in my sleep, murmuring a soft, incoherent sound as I snuggled deeper into his familiar warmth. Woonseok closed his eyes, a deep, completely satisfied sigh escaping his lips as he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, ready to conquer the world for his queen when the sun rose.
Who else is laughing at Woonseok's absolute misery? Spam the inline comments with your favorite funny moment, hit that Star ⭐ button, and let me know if you would have pretended not to see the table . this chapter gives us a much-needed breath of fresh, comedic air after the heavy emotional confessions of the previous night. I really wanted to highlight the contrast between Woonseok's public persona as the untouchable "Sovereign" and the reality of his domestic life, where he is completely outmaneuvered by his highly observant, former police-officer girlfriend.
The dynamic here proves that Sana doesn't need to be kept in the dark to be cherished, and Woonseok's desperate attempts to give her a fairy-tale moment are both hilarious and deeply endearing.
Woonseok's master plans might be failing, but our journey is just getting started! Support our favorite defeated superstar by dropping a Chapter Review and casting your daily Power Stones 💎!