Chapter Text
Minho has always known that as the eldest son of the Lee family, his life has never truly been his own. Being a member of the Korean nobility in modern times means upholding centuries-old traditions, even if it means sacrificing personal desires and dreams.
So when his parents inform him of his arranged marriage to Kim Seungmin, the youngest son of the prestigious Kim family, Minho feels his world constrict even though it is nothing but expected.
It isn’t that he is opposed to marriage; it is the circumstances surrounding said marriage. However, the Lee family’s financial situation had become precarious over the last few years of Minho’s life, and the Kim family’s wealth was the solution. Minho’s role is clear: marry Seungmin, secure the financial alliance, and save his family from ruin.
Still, the prospect leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He had always dreamed of marrying someone he loves, someone he knows and chooses for himself, but now he’s been auctioned off like a precious family heirloom. Minho wants nothing about this marriage.
Minho knows very little about Seungmin, other than what the tabloids report. Minho’s future husband is apparently polite, well-mannered, and everything a noble son should be. But Minho can’t shake the resentment he feels toward the entire situation. He is being sold off, his life exchanged for a lifeline to his family’s dwindling fortune. It’s his duty, yes, and one he’s known for years, but that does not mean he has to be happy about it.
1.
When he finally meets Seungmin and his family to discuss the terms of their union, Minho is immediately struck by how calm and accepting Seungmin seems, which only fuels his anger even more. How can Seungmin be so indifferent to their fate? Is he really so unaffected by the loss of personal freedom? Minho’s heart hardens in that moment and he decides then and there that this marriage would be nothing more than a contract to him.
The grand room where the meeting is held in the Kim family home is a testament to the wealth and power of the family. Minho’s own family, despite their financial troubles, is still far nicer than anything any other family in Korea owns, but it pales in comparison to Seungmin’s home. High ceilings, intricate tapestries, and polished marble floors—it is a stark reminder of the gap in power between Minho and Seungmin and all Minho wants to do is riot and rebel against his family, against his circumstances, against Seungmin .
Minho arrives first, dressed in a tailored suit that his mother has insisted he wear. As he sits in one of the luxurious leather chairs and waits for Seungmin and his family to grace them with their presence, he can’t help but feel like he is being paraded around like a prize to be won. His jaw tightens at the thought.
Seungmin enters a few minutes later, accompanied by his parents. Minho’s eyes are immediately drawn to him—tall, slender, with a calm demeanor that Minho finds almost unsettling. Seungmin’s eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, Minho thinks he sees something behind the polite smile—nervousness, perhaps, or maybe hesitation. But it is gone before he can be sure.
"Minho-ssi," Seungmin greets him with a respectful bow. His voice is soft, almost melodic, and Minho feels a pang of annoyance. Does he have to be so composed? So perfect?
"Seungmin-ssi," Minho replies, his tone cool, barely masking his irritation with years of etiquette training.
They are seated across from each other at a long table, their parents exchanging pleasantries while Minho remains silent. His eyes never leave Seungmin, searching for any sign of discomfort, any hint that this isn’t what he wants either. But Seungmin’s expression stays neutral, his gaze steady.
When the conversation finally turns to the terms of their marriage, Minho can barely contain his disdain. He listens as their parents discuss dowries, properties, and all the other details that make this arrangement feel more like a business deal than a union of two people.
Seungmin, however, nods along with everything, offering no objections.
"I understand," he says at one point, his voice measured and calm.
Minho’s frustration boils over. How can Seungmin just sit there and accept all of this so easily? Doesn’t he care that his life is being decided for him? That they are both being reduced to pawns in their families’ games?
When the meeting finally ends, and their parents leave them alone to "get to know each other," Minho can barely look at Seungmin. The silence between them is thick and oppressive.
"Is this really what you want?" Minho asks, his voice low, tinged with anger.
Seungmin blinks, seemingly taken aback by the question.
"It’s not about what I want, Minho-ssi. It’s about what’s best for our families."
The response only fuels Minho’s resentment.
"So you’re just going to go along with it? No objections, no complaints? Perfect Seungmin, the perfect son."
Seungmin hesitates, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.
"I’ve accepted it. We have responsibilities, Minho-ssi. This is one of them."
Minho’s fists clench at his sides.
"Well, I haven’t accepted it. And I don’t think I ever will."
Seungmin doesn’t respond immediately. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet and almost sad, but the manicured response Minho gets only makes him angrier and he ignores any hint of emotion in Seungmin’s voice.
"I’m sorry you feel that way."
Minho turns away and leaves the room without replying to Seungmin. His soon-to-be husband . This marriage might be inevitable, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. And he certainly isn’t going to make it easy for Seungmin. If this is how things are going to be, then he will make sure Seungmin knows exactly how unhappy he is.
And maybe, just maybe, he can convince Seungmin that he deserves better too and they’ll both be able to be free.
2.
The wedding day arrives with all the pomp and grandeur that the combined efforts of both the Kim and Lee families can muster, which, considering their social standings, is extensive. The media covers every detail, from the extravagant floral arrangements to the designer outfits worn by the guests. It’s the event of the year, and Minho hates every last second of it.
The morning starts with a series of formal rituals, each one more tedious than the last. Minho feels a little like he’s sleepwalking through the preparations, his mind heavy with resentment. The intricate layers of his ceremonial robes weigh him down, a physical manifestation of the burden he’s about to carry for the rest of his life. He can’t shake the feeling of entrapment.
Before the ceremony, Minho finds himself alone in a side room with Jisung and Hyunjin, two of his closest friends. They’re both from noble families as well, and their marriage has been the subject of gossip and admiration for months, only unseated in public gossip by the announcement of Minho’s wedding. They seem so perfect together, like a fairy tale brought to life and Minho can’t understand how they’ve made it work, especially when he can barely stand the thought of being tied to Seungmin.
Jisung, ever the perceptive one, notices Minho’s dark mood immediately.
"You look like you’re ready to bolt," he says with a small, mischievous smile. But when Minho doesn’t respond, the smile fades. "Are you okay?"
"No," Minho replies bluntly, not even attempting to hide his irritation. "I’m about to marry someone I don’t even know. Someone I don’t even like."
“Hey,” Jisung teases lightly, “I hated Hyunjinnie at first and we got over it rather quickly on our wedding night.”
Both boys smile at Minho, but when Minho’s face remains fixed in a frown, Hyuinjin’s usual soft expression turns serious.
"Minho, I get that this isn’t what you wanted, but—"
"But nothing," Minho interrupts Hyunjin, his voice sharp. "This is all just a business transaction. My family needs the money, and Seungmin’s family wants the connection. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it."
Jisung exchanges a look with Hyunjin before stepping closer to Minho.
"You don’t know Seungmin like we do," Jisung says quietly. "We went to school with him for eighteen years, from childhood through university. He’s a good person, I promise, Minho. He’s only doing this because he thinks it’s the right thing to do. He wants to help your family."
Minho scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
"And what about what I want? Does anyone care about that?"
Hyunjin sighs, his expression softening.
"Of course we care, Minho. But sometimes we have to make sacrifices. We’ve all been there."
Minho glances at Hyunjin and Jisung, the perfect couple, and feels a pang of bitterness. They speak as if they understand his situation, but they have each other. They have love. What does he have? A marriage contract and a lifetime of resentment.
"I don’t want to do this," Minho says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hate him."
"Do you really hate him?" Jisung asks, his tone gentle but probing. "Or do you hate the situation you’re in?"
Minho doesn’t answer. He isn’t sure he knows the difference anymore.
"Seungmin’s not your enemy, Minho," Hyunjin adds. "He’s trying to make the best of this, just like you are. And he’s going to try to make you happy. But you have to meet him halfway."
"Why should I?" Minho retorts, his anger bubbling to the surface. "Why should I make this easy for him when it’s been nothing but hell for me?"
Jisung places a hand on Minho’s shoulder, his touch reassuring.
"Because he’s not the one who caused all this, Minho. He’s just a victim of circumstance, same as you. And maybe, if you give him a chance, you’ll see that he’s not so bad. Maybe you’ll even find a way to make this work."
Minho looks away, refusing to let Jisung or Hyunjin see the doubt flickering in his eyes. He doesn’t want to give Seungmin a chance. He doesn’t want to make this work. All he wants is for it to be over.
When it’s time for the ceremony, Minho walks down the aisle with a sense of dread weighing heavily on his heart. The grand hall is filled with nobles, dignitaries, and media, all eagerly watching the union of two powerful families. It’s all so carefully orchestrated, so perfectly arranged, and yet it feels completely and utterly wrong.
As he stands at the altar, waiting for Seungmin to walk down the aisle, Minho feels a mixture of anger and resignation. This is it—his life is about to be tied to someone he barely knows, someone who has been nothing but calm and composed while Minho’s world has been turned upside down and is falling apart before him.
When Seungmin finally appears, dressed in an elegant white suit, the crowd gasps in admiration. The suit is so perfectly tailored, highlighting Seungmin’s slender frame, broad shoulders, and graceful movements. But Minho feels no such awe. As Seungmin approaches and their eyes meet, something like regret flickers in Seungmin’s gaze. But it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same carefully constructed calm facade Minho has grown to despise over the past few weeks of wedding arrangements.
The ceremony is a blur. Minho barely remembers reciting his vows, his voice mechanical as he speaks the words that have been written for him. He doesn’t even look at Seungmin when he slips the ornate ring onto his finger, a gaudy family heirloom that clashes terribly with Seungmin’s simple personal style. Minho had picked it out of their family jewel collection with no small amount of glee, knowing just how much Seungmin would dislike it, but Seungmin just accepts the ring without complaint.
When they are finally pronounced as married, Minho feels a cold weight settle in his chest. The cheers of the guests, the flashing cameras, the well-wishes—it all feels so impossibly hollow. He’s married now, but he feels more alone than ever.
The reception that follows is just as extravagant as the actual wedding, if not more so, with a lavish banquet, live music, and endless speeches. Minho spends most of it sulking at the edge of the room, avoiding the congratulatory guests and ignoring the curious glances sent his way. He wants nothing to do with any of it, much less his new husband, who is busy greeting every last guest that mingles in the large room. Minho just wants to disappear.
As the evening wears on, Minho’s eyes keep drifting to Seungmin, who has remained surrounded by well-wishers. Seungmin smiles politely, laughs at the right moments, and engages in conversation with the kind of grace that Minho finds infuriating. It’s like Seungmin was born to play this role, to be the perfect spouse, and Minho hates him more for it.
But then Minho notices something that makes his anger falter. Seungmin is talking to a young man who looks about the same age as him, maybe a little younger. When the two of them make their way to the refreshment table to get more food, Minho recognizes the other boy as Jeongin, Seungmin’s best friend. There’s a lightness to their conversation, a genuine connection that’s missing from everything Minho has experienced that day.
For a moment, Minho feels a pang of something that isn’t quite jealousy but close to it. Seungmin looks so different when he’s with Jeongin—more relaxed, more himself. When Seungmin talks to the other boy, he is lively and animated, his bright smile infectious as he chatters away. Minho barely reconciles this Seungmin with the one he has come to know.
He watches as Seungmin and Jeongin laugh together, their eyes bright. They look so young, so happy, and for the first time, Minho feels a flicker of guilt. It’s more than clear to Minho that Seungmin is losing something deep inside himself by entering this marriage and tying himself to Minho, a fact Minho has refused to acknowledge until now.
The rest of the reception passes in a haze. Minho doesn’t remember much of it—just the bitterness that lingers in his mouth like the aftertaste of bad wine. When it’s finally over, when the guests have left and the cameras have stopped flashing, Minho and Seungmin can finally retreat to their new apartment.
The penthouse is stunning, a testament to the money Seungmin’s family has. As they walk through the door, Seungmin’s excitement is palpable. His eyes shine as he gives Minho a tour of their new home, leading him through the living room, the kitchen, and the bedrooms. The apartment is immaculate and clearly recently renovated, with every detail carefully chosen by Minho’s new husband.
“This is our new home,” Seungmin says, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and nervousness. He pauses by a door on the right. “This is your bedroom. I wanted to give you your own space so you could have some privacy. And over here is your own bathroom.”
Minho takes in the rooms with a detached sort of curiosity. The bedroom isn’t decorated yet, which Seungmin explains is because he wants Minho to make it feel like his home, but it has a large bed and a view of the city skyline. The bathroom is equally impressive. Seungmin has clearly put a lot of thought into making sure Minho feels comfortable and has some semblance of freedom within their shared space. Still, Minho hates it because he hates this marriage.
“This is really nice, Seungmin,” Minho says, trying to sound appreciative but feeling hollow inside.
Seungmin’s face lights up at the praise, but Minho can’t bring himself to muster any real enthusiasm. As they continue the tour and Minho remains apathetic, Seungmin’s excitement seems to wane slightly, but he remains hopeful.
When they finally make it back to the living room, Seungmin turns to Minho with a hopeful smile.
“I was thinking since it’s our first night here, maybe we could watch a movie together?”
Minho looks at him, his expression flat.
“I’m really tired. I think I’ll just head to bed,” he says curtly.
Seungmin’s face falls, and he tries to hide his disappointment.
“Alright. Maybe another time.”
Minho nods again, turning away and heading to his new bedroom. As he closes the door behind him, he locks it with a click, cutting himself off from the outside world.
But even in the silence of his own room, Minho can’t escape the weight of the day’s events. He can’t stop thinking about Seungmin and Jeongin, about how different Seungmin looks when he isn’t forced to pretend. And as much as Minho wants to blame Seungmin for everything, a small voice in the back of his mind keeps whispering that maybe, just maybe, Seungmin isn’t the one at fault here.
Minho isn’t ready to listen to that voice, however. Not yet. So he buries his feelings deep and lets the resentment fester.
And all Minho can think about is how much he wants this marriage to be over.
3.
The honeymoon is a tense affair from the start. They are sent to a luxurious resort on a private island, a paradise on earth designed for romance and relaxation. It’s supposed to be the perfect beginning to their new life together but for Minho, the resentment that has simmered within him since their first meeting only deepens in the secluded, intimate setting.
From the moment they arrive, Seungmin makes every effort to create a pleasant atmosphere. He arranges for special dinners on the beach, with menus tailored to Minho’s tastes. He ensures that Minho’s favorite foods are flown in fresh and even plans excursions—snorkeling, hiking, a sunset cruise—activities he thinks Minho might appreciate. But Minho remains distant, his responses curt and his demeanor cold. He can’t bring himself to appreciate Seungmin’s efforts, not when he still feels so trapped in a marriage he never wanted.
One evening, they dine on the beach, the table set with candles and flowers, the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore creating an ambiance that could be straight out of a fairy tale. But Minho barely touches his food, his gaze fixed on the horizon as if he’s looking for an escape route.
Seungmin forces a smile, trying to maintain the fragile peace.
“The chef said this dish is one of your favorites. I hope it’s to your liking.”
“It’s fine,” Minho says curtly, not even bothering to look at him. The food tastes like ash in his mouth, the bitterness inside him poisoning every bite.
The next day, Seungmin plans an excursion, a boat ride to explore the nearby coral reefs.
As they board the sleek, white boat, Seungmin offers a small smile.
“I thought you might enjoy this. The guide says the reefs here are some of the most beautiful in the world.”
Minho nods, though his expression remains carefully blank.
They spend the afternoon snorkeling in crystal-clear waters, the vibrant colors of the coral and fish providing a stunning backdrop. Seungmin seems more at ease in the water, less carefully polished and manicured, his movements not at all graceful, but he looks happy. Minho catches himself laughing when Seungmin chokes on water, before quickly wiping the look from his face when Seungmin turns to pout at him.
That evening, as they sit in their private villa overlooking the ocean, Seungmin suggests they take a walk on the beach.
“The sunset looks pretty tonight,” Seungmin says, his tone hopeful.
Minho shrugs, not even bothering to look up from the book he’s pretending to read.
“You go ahead. I’m not in the mood.”
Seungmin’s shoulders slump slightly, but he nods.
“Alright. I’ll be back soon.”
Minho watches him go, a part of him feeling a twinge of guilt. He knows he’s being difficult, but he can’t help it. The anger and resentment are like a wall between them, one that Minho doesn’t know how to break down. He doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to be married to someone he barely knows, doesn’t want to be unhappy for the rest of his life.
When they return home, the tension only grows worse. Seungmin continues to try, doing everything he can to make their life together easier. He adopts a cat for Minho, a small one Minho names Dori, knowing how much Minho loves animals. The little cat quickly becomes attached to Minho, following him around the house and curling up in his lap whenever he sits down. Minho finds it hard to stay angry when Dori is around, the cat’s soft purring a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.
But even Dori’s presence isn’t enough to bridge the gap between them. Minho avoids spending time with Seungmin whenever possible, retreating to his study or going out with friends instead. When they do interact, Minho’s words are often laced with sarcasm or bitterness, pushing Seungmin further away.
Seungmin continues to try. He makes sure the kitchen is stocked with the best ingredients, hoping that Minho might be able to find some joy in cooking. He even goes out of his way to learn more about Minho’s interests, trying to find common ground. One evening, he brings home a rare ingredient Minho had once mentioned in passing, presenting it to him with a hopeful smile.
“I thought you might like to use this,” Seungmin says, holding out the carefully wrapped package.
Minho takes it, his expression unreadable.
“Thanks,” he mutters, setting it aside without a second glance.
Seungmin’s smile falters, but he doesn’t give up. He suggests activities they can do together, from visiting Hyunjin’s art galleries to attending Jisung’s music performances, but Minho always has an excuse, and always finds a way to avoid spending time with him.
One evening, after another silent dinner, Minho heads to his study, intending to lose himself in work. As he passes by Seungmin’s room, he hears a muffled voice. He pauses, realizing Seungmin is on the phone. The door is slightly ajar, and Minho can’t help but overhear the conversation.
"I don’t know what to do, Binnie hyung," Seungmin is saying, his voice shaky, choked with emotion. From the name, Minho knows he’s talking to Seo Changbin, the son of another affluent family and Seungmin’s university roommate. "I’ve tried everything, but he just doesn’t want me. He hates me, and I don’t know how to fix it."
There’s a pause, and Minho hears Changbin’s voice, calm and soothing, but he can’t make out the words.
"It’s just so hard," Seungmin continues, and Minho hears a soft sniffle. "I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything, but Minho hates me. He won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me. I thought I could make this work, but it’s like I’m invisible to him.”
There’s another pause, one which lets Minho clearly hear Seungmin’s soft crying, before he continues, his voice breaking.
“I just wanted to make him happy.”
All of a sudden, Minho feels like a voyeur listening in on Seungmin’s conversation like this. He and Seungmin aren’t friends, he has no business hearing him cry and Minho feels a pang of guilt as he shuffles away, but it’s quickly overshadowed by a wave of anger. How dare Seungmin act like he’s the victim? Minho is the one who’s trapped, the one who’s been forced into this marriage to save his family. Seungmin isn’t obligated to be in this marriage. He clenches his fists, the resentment burning hotter than ever.
How can Seungmin not see the only way Minho will be happy is if he gets out of this marriage?
4.
Days turn into weeks, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, the dynamic between Minho and Seungmin begins to shift. It’s not a sudden change, but a gradual thawing of the icy tension that has defined their relationship from the start.
Minho starts to notice things he hasn’t done before. Seungmin’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, and there’s a quiet kindness in the way he interacts with Dori, gently scratching behind the cat’s ears until she purrs contentedly. He approaches everything with a calm determination, a trait that Minho finds himself begrudgingly admiring. The world seems less chaotic when Seungmin is around, and, despite his best efforts, Minho is surprised to find himself drawn to that sense of peace.
One evening, they find themselves in the kitchen together. Minho is preparing dinner, a simple pasta dish that he enjoys making when he needs to unwind after a long day. Seungmin wanders in, hesitating at the doorway. Usually, he would have turned and left, but this time, he stays.
“Do you need any help?” Seungmin asks, his tone tentative but sincere.
Minho glances at him, surprised.
“You can cook?”
“Not as well as you do, but I can chop vegetables,” Seungmin replies with a small smile.
Minho considers this for a moment before nodding.
“Alright, you can chop the carrots.”
They work side by side, the silence between them surprisingly comfortable. Minho finds himself stealing glances at Seungmin, noting how focused he is, how his brow furrows slightly and his tongue sticks out as he concentrates on cutting the carrots just right. There’s something almost endearing about the way Seungmin tries so hard to do everything perfectly.
“You’re doing it wrong,” Minho says after a moment, moving closer to show Seungmin the correct way to hold the knife. As he guides Seungmin’s hand, their fingers brush, and Minho feels a small jolt, a warmth spreading through his chest that he quickly tries to suppress.
“Like this?” Seungmin asks, looking up at Minho with those wide, earnest eyes.
“Yeah, just like that,” Minho replies, his voice softer than he intended. There’s a vulnerability in Seungmin’s gaze that makes Minho’s heart hurt in a way he doesn’t understand.
They continue cooking together, and the atmosphere between them is lighter than it has been in weeks. When they finally sit down to eat, Minho is surprised to find himself enjoying Seungmin’s company. They talk about trivial things—the weather, the latest news, Dori’s antics—but it feels significant somehow, like a bridge is being built between them.
That night, as Minho lies alone in his room in bed, he can’t stop thinking about Seungmin. There’s more to him than Minho has allowed himself to see, and the realization is both unsettling and intriguing. It’s confusing and frustrating, but Minho pushes the thoughts away, telling himself it’s just because he’s finally getting used to the situation.
The next few days pass in a blur of mundane tasks and polite, but distant conversations. Minho continues to watch Seungmin more closely, noticing how hard he works, how he seems to be constantly pushing himself to do more, to be better. Seungmin is always the first to wake up and the last to go to bed, his days filled with meetings, phone calls, and projects. Minho hears him typing away late into the night and sees the exhaustion in his eyes that he tries so hard to hide. But Minho is still too wrapped up in his own resentment to fully grasp the toll it’s taking on Seungmin and Seungmin has been distant as well. Maybe he’s finally picked up on the hints Minho has been leaving about wanting to be alone.
It should feel good, but Minho just feels a sort of emptiness when he eats dinner alone every night. He tries not to think about it.
He fails.
Then, one afternoon, Minho gets a call. He’s sitting in his study, trying to focus on a book but finding his thoughts drifting to Seungmin when his phone buzzes on the desk. He frowns, picking it up to see Chan’s name on the screen.
Chan is one of Minho’s longtime friends. Chan had been in the same university class as Minho and after graduation had started working at the Kim family business as an analyst. He works directly with Seungmin and has become a fixture in both Seungmin and Minho’s lives over the past few months.
Last month, Minho and Seungmin had even made a rare public appearance together at Chan’s wedding to his childhood sweetheart from Australia, Lee Felix, and Seungmin had quickly adopted the foreign boy into his own friend group.
All this to say that Minho isn’t surprised Chan is calling him, they’re almost always in contact with each other, but when he picks up, Chan sounds uncharacteristically panicked.
“Minho, you need to come to the office right now,” Chan says, his voice tense. “Seungmin passed out. He’s been pushing himself too hard, and he’s not waking up. I think he has a fever.”
The words hit Minho like a punch to the gut. For a moment, he can’t move, can’t think, as the reality of the situation sinks in. Seungmin is sick, and Minho hasn’t even noticed. He’s been so focused on ignoring his husband, on keeping his distance, that he hasn’t seen how much Seungmin has been struggling.
Minho rushes to the office, his heart pounding in his chest. When he arrives, he finds Seungmin slumped over his desk, pale and unresponsive. Chan and a few other coworkers hover nearby, their faces etched with concern.
“Help me get him to the car,” Minho says, his voice shaking as he lifts Seungmin into his arms.
Seungmin is light, too light, and Minho feels a pang of guilt as he realizes how little he knows about his husband’s health.
The drive to the hospital is a blur. Seungmin stirs slightly in the passenger seat, his eyes fluttering open as he mumbles something incoherent.
Minho shushes him gently, reaching one hand out to smooth Seungmin's fluffy bangs back while keeping his eyes focused on the road.
“Minho, I’m sorry,” Seungmin continues, slightly more coherent, his voice weak and laced with delirium. “I’m trying and I just wanted to make you happy.”
Minho drops his hand from Seungmin’s burning forehead and tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his heart twisting painfully at Seungmin’s words. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to respond to Seungmin, to the realization that Seungmin has been trying so hard to make this marriage work while Minho has been pushing him away.
When they arrive at the hospital, the doctors quickly take Seungmin in, and Minho is left pacing the waiting room, his mind racing. He’s been so unfair to Seungmin, so focused on his own resentment that he hasn’t seen how much Seungmin has been suffering. Seungmin isn’t the villain in this situation—he’s just as much a victim as Minho is, forced into a marriage neither of them wanted, yet trying so hard to make the best of it.
Minho thinks back to all the times he’s been cruel, all the cutting remarks and cold shoulders, and he feels a deep shame settle over him. He doesn’t hate Seungmin, he realizes. He hates the situation, hates the loss of control over his own life, but Seungmin has been nothing but kind, patient, and understanding.
As he waits for news from the doctors, Minho feels a strange, unfamiliar emotion stirring within him. It’s not love, not yet, but it’s something close to it—a recognition that Seungmin doesn’t deserve the treatment he’s been subjected to. He still doesn’t like this marriage and wants it to be over, but for the first time, he’s not sure he wants Seungmin to leave his life completely.
5.
Minho isn’t used to this—taking care of someone. It feels strange, almost alien, as he sits by Seungmin’s bedside, watching the slow rise and fall of his husband’s chest. Seungmin looks so small, so fragile, buried beneath layers of blankets, his face still pale from exhaustion. Minho reaches out, hesitates, then gently brushes a strand of hair away from Seungmin’s forehead. His skin is warm and feverish, and Minho frowns, worry gnawing at him in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.
This isn’t how things were supposed to go. They were supposed to be partners in name only, coexisting in a marriage neither of them wanted. But seeing Seungmin like this, weak and vulnerable, stirs something in Minho that he can’t quite name. He wants to protect Seungmin, to keep him safe, even though he knows it would be easier to let go, to walk away from the responsibility that’s been thrust upon him.
But walking away isn’t an option right now. Not when Seungmin needs him.
“Seungmin, you need to eat,” Minho says softly, holding out a bowl of soup.
Seungmin stirs, his eyes fluttering open, but he doesn’t reach for the spoon. He looks at Minho, and there’s something in his gaze that Minho can’t quite place, an uncertainty, a wariness that wasn’t there a few weeks ago when Seungmin was still trying everything to make Minho happy and comfortable.
“I’m fine,” Seungmin murmurs, his voice hoarse.
He tries to push himself up, but his arms tremble with the effort, and Minho is quick to catch him before he can fall back.
“You are not fine,” Minho counters, more sharply than he intends. He softens his tone, guilt gnawing at him. “You need to eat something. Just a few bites, okay?”
Seungmin hesitates, then nods weakly, allowing Minho to feed him. Each spoonful is a struggle, and Seungmin barely manages to swallow a few bites before he turns his head away, eyes closing again as if even that small effort has drained him.
“Thank you,” Seungmin whispers, his voice so faint that Minho almost doesn’t hear it.
Minho watches him for a moment, his heart tightening in his chest. He’s been so focused on his own resentment, on his desire to be free of this marriage, that he hasn’t noticed how much Seungmin has been struggling. Seungmin, who has been trying so hard to make things work, who has been shouldering the burden of their situation without complaint. And what has Minho done? Ignored him, pushed him away, treated him like an inconvenience.
“I’m sorry,” Minho says quietly, more to himself than to Seungmin. He brushes his thumb over the thin skin beneath Seungmin’s eyes, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You shouldn’t have had to go through this alone.”
Seungmin’s eyes open again, and for a moment, Minho thinks he sees something, relief, maybe, or gratitude, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. Seungmin pulls his head away from Minho’s touch, turning his face toward the window. Minho’s hand falls back to his lap, the distance between them suddenly feeling like a chasm.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Seungmin says, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “You’ve already done more than enough.”
There’s a coldness in those words that makes Minho’s chest tighten with something uncomfortably close to regret. Seungmin’s pulling away, distancing himself, and Minho knows why. He’s shown nothing but disdain since the beginning, made it clear that he wants nothing to do with this marriage. And now, when Seungmin is at his most vulnerable, Minho is the one forced to take care of him. No wonder Seungmin feels like a burden.
But it hurts more than Minho expects it to, seeing Seungmin retreat like this. He’s been telling himself for weeks that he wants out, that this marriage is nothing more than a prison, but now he’s not so sure. Seungmin is kind, and selfless, and seeing him like this, Minho can’t deny the pull he feels toward him, the desire to take care of him, to be the person Seungmin can rely on.
That’s dangerous territory, however, but with each passing day, it’s becoming harder to convince himself that walking away is the right choice.
Seungmin shifts in the bed, drawing Minho’s attention back to him. He’s frowning, his brow furrowed in discomfort, and Minho reaches out instinctively, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Seungmin relaxes slightly under the touch, but he doesn’t say anything, his eyes fixed on the wall as if trying to avoid looking at Minho.
“I’ll stay with you,” Minho says, more as a promise to himself than anything. “Until you’re better.”
Seungmin doesn’t respond, but Minho sees the way his shoulders tense, the way his fingers curl into the blanket as if he’s trying to hold onto something. Minho wants to reach out, to offer comfort, but he doesn’t know how. He’s never been good at this, at showing emotions, at being vulnerable, and the fear of rejection, of pushing Seungmin even further away, keeps him from moving closer.
The days pass in a blur of routine. Minho takes care of Seungmin, making sure he eats, making sure he’s comfortable, but the distance between them only seems to grow. Seungmin hides within himself more and more, his smiles becoming rarer, his responses curt and polite, as if he’s trying to keep Minho at arm’s length. It’s like watching a wall go up between them, brick by brick, and Minho doesn’t know how to tear it down.
He doesn’t know why he wants to.
At night, when Seungmin is asleep, Minho finds himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. He still wants out, he still wants the freedom he lost when they got married, but now, the idea of losing Seungmin feels like a different kind of torture. The more he tries to convince himself that divorce is the answer, the more hollow the words feel.
It would be easier to walk away, to let Seungmin go, but when Minho looks at him, so fragile and worn down, he can’t bring himself to do it. Seungmin has wormed his way between Minho’s ribs and wrapped himself around Minho's heart. He cares about Seungmin, maybe more than he should, and that scares him. Because if he lets himself fall, if he lets himself care too much, he knows there’s no going back.
+1.
Minho isn’t sure what to expect when Seungmin’s parents call for a meeting a few weeks after Seungmin has finally recovered from his sickness. He arrives at their elegant home, a place he’s visited only a handful of times since the marriage, and the formal atmosphere does nothing to ease his nerves. They’re cordial, as always, but there’s a tension in the air, a weight to their words that makes Minho feel like he’s back in his father’s study, being lectured about the responsibilities of being a Lee.
Seungmin’s mother, always poised and graceful, gestures for him to sit in the living room. Minho complies, sitting on the edge of the plush sofa, his back straight and his hands resting on his knees. Seungmin’s father takes the seat across from him, his expression unreadable, while Seungmin’s mother perches on the armrest beside him, her gaze steady.
“Minho,” Seungmin’s father begins, his tone measured, “we’ve asked you here today because we’ve noticed how unhappy Seungmin has been in this marriage.”
Minho’s heart skips a beat, though he tries to keep his expression neutral. He’s known, of course, that Seungmin has been struggling, but hearing it from his parents makes it all the more real, the guilt gnawing at him more fiercely.
“We’ve been watching,” Seungmin’s mother adds, her voice soft but firm, “and it’s clear that this arrangement isn’t working. For either of you.”
Minho nods slowly, unsure of what to say. He’s known from the beginning that this marriage was a mistake, a business deal disguised as a union, but he’s also aware that Seungmin has done everything he can to make it work. The thought of how hard Seungmin has tried, how much he’s sacrificed, twists something deep inside Minho.
Seungmin’s father clears his throat, drawing Minho’s attention back to him.
“We’re willing to offer you a way out, Minho. A divorce, quiet and without scandal. We’ll ensure that your family’s financial issues are resolved, just as they would have been through this marriage.”
Minho’s breath catches in his throat. A way out. It’s what he’s wanted all along, isn’t it? The chance to be free of this marriage, to return to his life before, unburdened by the expectations and responsibilities that have weighed him down since the wedding. But as the words sink in, Minho feels a strange hollowness settle in his chest, as if the very thing he’s been yearning for no longer holds the same appeal.
Seungmin’s mother leans forward slightly, her expression gentle but firm.
“We’re not doing this out of malice, Minho. We just want what’s best for our son. And for you.”
Minho swallows, his mind racing. This is it—the perfect opportunity to escape, to give them both the chance to start over. And yet, as he nods and agrees to their offer, a part of him feels like he’s making a terrible mistake.
When Minho returns home that evening, the weight of the decision presses heavily on his shoulders. Seungmin is already in bed, his form barely visible beneath the covers. Minho stands in the doorway of Seungmin’s room for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of Seungmin’s breaths, before turning away and heading to his own room. He doesn’t sleep that night, his mind too full of the conversation with Seungmin’s parents, and the finality of what he’s about to do.
The next morning, Minho steels himself and approaches Seungmin after breakfast. The apartment feels colder than usual, the silence between them heavier, and more oppressive. Seungmin looks up from his cup of coffee, his expression wary, as if he already senses what’s coming.
“Seungmin,” Minho begins, his voice rough, “I think we should get a divorce.”
Seungmin’s face pales, his eyes widening in shock. The coffee mug in his hands trembles slightly, and Minho has to look away, unable to look at the pain he sees in Seungmin’s gaze.
“I spoke with your parents,” Minho continues, pushing through the lump in his throat. “They’ve agreed to take care of everything. You won’t have to worry about anything. You can keep whatever you want, the apartment, Dori, anything. I’ll leave.”
For a long moment, Seungmin says nothing, his eyes fixed on the table. Then, slowly, he sets the mug down, his hands still shaking.
“Is that what you want, Minho?” he asks, his voice so quiet, so broken, that it makes Minho’s heart clench painfully.
Minho hesitates, his resolve wavering.
“It’s what’s best for both of us,” he says, even though the words taste bitter and wrong on his tongue.
Seungmin nods slowly as if all the fight has drained out of him. He stands up, his movements slow and deliberate, and walks over to the closet. Minho watches, helpless, as Seungmin starts to pack a bag.
“You can stay here,” Seungmin says quietly, his back to Minho. “This place is yours. Dori too. I got them for you. I’ll go stay with a friend.”
Minho’s chest tightens, the guilt and regret nearly suffocating him. He wants to tell Seungmin to stop, to stay, but the words won’t come. All he can do is stand there, watching as Seungmin gathers his things, as he leaves the apartment without looking back.
The door closes softly behind Seungmin, and with it, the apartment falls into a deafening silence. Minho looks around at the empty space, at the belongings Seungmin left behind, at the cat who now sits on the couch, meowing softly in confusion. The loneliness hits him like a wave, crashing over him with an intensity that leaves him breathless.
He thought he’d feel relief. Freedom. But all he feels is a gnawing emptiness, a hollow ache that settles deep in his chest. He’s finally gotten what he wanted but now, standing in the empty apartment, Minho realizes that it’s not what he wanted at all.
A week passes, and Minho is no closer to feeling better. He goes through the motions of his daily routine, but everything feels dull and lifeless. The apartment is too quiet without Seungmin’s presence, without his soft laughter, his gentle voice. Even Dori seems to sense the change, often curling up on the couch where Seungmin used to sit, staring at the door, waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.
Minho’s friends try to cheer him up, dragging him out for drinks, for parties, for anything that might take his mind off things. But it’s no use. No matter how much he drinks, no matter how many people he surrounds himself with, the emptiness remains.
It all comes to a head one night when he’s out with Jisung. They’re both several drinks in, the world around them pleasantly blurred, but Minho can’t shake the heaviness in his heart. He turns to Jisung, his voice slurring slightly as he speaks.
“I messed up,” Minho says, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t realize how much I cared about him until he was gone.”
Jisung raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
“You’re talking about Seungmin?”
Minho nods, the alcohol loosening his tongue, making it easier to say the things he’s been too afraid to admit.
“I thought I wanted out, that I wanted to be free, but,” Minho pauses, before the rest of his words tumble out. “I think I love him, Jisung. I love him and I let him go and I’m such an idiot.”
Jisung sighs, placing a hand on Minho’s shoulder.
“Minho, Seungmin’s been staying with me and Hyunjin. He’s been crying every night since he left. I don’t think he wanted this either. He was scared and sad with you, but now he’s miserable.”
The words hit Minho like a punch to the gut. He knew Seungmin was hurting, but hearing it out loud, knowing that Seungmin has been suffering just as much as he has, both during their marriage and after, makes the guilt nearly unbearable.
“I want him back,” Minho says, his voice thick with emotion. “I have to fix this.”
Jisung nods.
“Then do it.”
Minho is going to fix this, to make things right. He let Seungmin go once, but he’s not going to make that mistake again. He’s going to win Seungmin back, and this time, he’s not going to let him go.
He’s going to remarry Seungmin, and he’s going to do it right this time.