"Whoa… ajjssi really captured some amazing photographs," she said, swiping through them one by one, eyes sparkling. "Look at this one…"
She walked over to him, holding the camera out proudly.
Suho was seated on the chair, laptop open, fingers moving across the keyboard. "Hmm… I saw them," he replied without looking up. "He's really a professional."
She paused. Looked at him. Really looked at him.
"Yaa… Suho," she said, voice rising in dramatic disbelief. "Again work? This is not fair."
He finally glanced up, a quick smile tugging at his lips. "Mianhae… five minutes. I'm almost done," he said, typing faster as if speed could soften the crime.
She stared at him for a second longer, then sighed in defeat. Turning away, she walked back to the bed and sat down, scrolling through the pictures again. A small, happy smile curved her lips as she relived the moments.
Behind her, the typing stopped.
He closed the laptop quietly and crossed the room in a few long steps, sliding onto the bed beside her with a boyish grin that sparkled in his eyes.
She didn't look at him. She ignored him deliberately, still scrolling.
He chuckled, inching closer. "Hauena…"
She turned her back. "I'm busy. Five minutes," she replied, perfectly mimicking his tone.
He burst into a quiet chuckle, clearly amused. Leaning closer, he rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice dropping into a gentle whisper. "I'm sorry, Jagi…"
She sighed, shook her head lightly, and finally turned toward him. The annoyance had already melted away. "Don't be sorry for everything, Teddy," she said, smiling.
His smile softened instantly. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. She smiled wider, warmth blooming.
"See," she said, holding the camera up again. "This one looks really romantic." It was the picture where he had leaned close, their faces almost touching, the sunrise glowing behind them.
He smiled, eyes lingering.
"And this one too," she added, swiping. "We look like a full-on K-drama couple."
"Hmmm…" he hummed thoughtfully, then said softly, "That's because Hauenie is too beautiful to be real."
She turned to him slowly, pulling one of her signature weird expressions that sat somewhere between flustered and cringed.
He laughed, unable to stop himself. Then suddenly wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly, overwhelmed by affection.
She squealed, wiggling, laughing, both of them drifting effortlessly back into their own little world.
The next morning unfolded gently.
After breakfast at a cozy café nearby, they rented a car and set off toward Cheonjiyeon Waterfall. The drive was filled with soft music, random conversations, shared glances, and island air brushing past them as laughter filled the space between songs.
At the waterfall, time slowed.
Mist kissed their skin as water thundered down the rocks, alive and endless. Hauen stayed a little back, camera in hand, capturing short video clips while Suho stepped closer to the falling stream.
Soon enough, he was drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, laughter echoing as he spun under the rushing water, dancing under the flowing water, drenched, laughing freely like a boy with no worries left behind. Water splashed everywhere as he moved, carefree, alive.
She laughed so hard her cheeks hurt.
When he finally came back to her, breathless and smiling, she immediately wrapped a towel around his head.
"Ohho… I hope you don't catch a cold, Teddy," she said, immediately fussing over him, rubbing the towel gently, drying his hair.
"I won't," he said softly, letting her. "I like this place. Every time I come to Jeju, I visit here. There's a different kind of peace… it settles you."
He took the towel from her, wiping his hair again, smiling faintly.
She looked at him fondly.
"By the way," she added casually, "you looked sexy while dancing there." No hesitation. No shame.
He chuckled, a shy smile breaking through despite himself. "I know, Jagi."
Their eyes met. "That performance," he leaned closer and whispered, "was for you."
She laughed, delighted. "But it was a public show," she teased. "Others watched this sexy treasure too."
He reached out and squeezed her cheeks lightly, cutting off her flirt before it could get worse. "Enough," he laughed, shaking his head.
They both laughed together, standing there with the waterfall roaring behind them, soaked shoes, damp clothes, and hearts inexplicably full.
Later, after changing into fresh clothes, they headed out for lunch.
Later that night, after wandering through nearby streets, capturing random, candid moments, the day slowly softened into quiet. It had been peaceful. No tension. No phone calls. No spiraling thoughts. Just them, moving through Jeju like the island had made room especially for them.
They ended the night at a small local seafood restaurant in the Seogwipo area. Warm lights, the distant hush of waves somewhere beyond the walls, plates clinking softly. Simple. Intimate.
"Hmm… I like this prawn dish," he said, genuinely pleased.
She smiled and served him more without a word.
He looked at her, that warm, familiar smile touching his lips. "Thank you, Jagi," he said sweetly.
She watched him eat for a moment before speaking. "Today was really good… Just us. No disturbance."
He smiled, nodding. "Yeah."
She picked up another piece, feeding him gently. "To be honest," she continued, "Yesterday you looked really stressed. I was worried. But today… Seeing you being yourself again made me relax."
He paused, eyes lifting to meet hers. A small smile curved his lips. "I'm sorry for worrying you yesterday," he said softly.
"Aniya," she shrugged lightly, brushing it off. "Don't apologise."
They shared a quiet smile and returned to their food, the conversation thinning into comfortable silence.
But beneath the calm, unspoken thoughts stirred.
He worried about the pain he might cause her, the truth waiting like a shadow behind every smile. And she worried about the unknown weight he carried so quietly, the hurt he never voiced.
They sat there together, close, sharing food and warmth, each guarding the other's heart in their own silent way, unaware that this gentle night would soon become something they both might ache to remember.