Ch.161161. We Got Married – side. Hwanabi

“……Huh, yeah?”

As if he hadn’t expected me to bring up such a topic first, he stared at me with great bewilderment. His pupils shook uncontrollably up and down, which was rare enough to be slightly amusing.

Is this payback for that time? I swallowed the laughter that was about to escape. Then, with a somewhat brazen expression, I asked him.

“Why are you so surprised? Han Siwoo, weren’t you going to propose to me?”

“Umm, well… yes, that’s true. No, it’s just strange. I was going to say it first, but then suddenly you…”

“You talk too much. Anyway, what’s your answer?”

“Huh? Answer?”

“Yes. I asked you a question, didn’t I? So you should give me an answer.”

Answer. I hadn’t heard his response yet. Though it seemed unlikely, what if he refused? That anxiety sprouted in my chest, making my heart pound. I could feel my face burning up instantly. Even on the day of my college acceptance announcement, I wasn’t this nervous, but here I am, trembling over this.

Right, I just asked him to marry me, that’s all. So there’s no need to be nervous, but I don’t know why my head feels so hot. I’m pretending to be calm, but honestly, each second feels like a year.

On the first night of the festival, when he embraced me and confessed, did he feel the same way I do now? I never realized waiting for an answer could be so nerve-wracking. Whether he knew how I felt or not, he had been staring blankly, but then his lips moved slightly.

“Yes, of course. Let’s do it, let’s get married.”

With a slight smile curling his lips, he wrapped his arms around me tightly.

“Mmm, good. You answered well.”

Ah… I was so incredibly nervous. To be honest, when I asked, I thought he would agree right away, so I hadn’t even considered having to wait. My heart is still racing from the lingering feeling.

I stretched out my arms to hug him back, gently stroking the back of his head while whispering softly.

“Husband.”

“…What did you say?”

Though I had just playfully muttered it, his shoulders twitched and he reacted dramatically. Honestly, I had said it expecting such an intense reaction, so I quietly laughed, secretly satisfied.

“What? That’s what you are now, right? We’re getting married soon.”

The other day when I called him husband, he didn’t seem particularly moved. But now his neck is turning red. Seeing this, it seems he’s genuinely embarrassed. Did something change in his mindset?

What’s different between then and now? Why has his attitude changed so much? If I could figure out the reason, it might be useful. As I was seriously pondering this, he who had been embracing me slightly pulled back.

“It’s not wrong, but… are you planning to call me that from now on?”

“If that’s what you want. If you don’t like ‘husband,’ I can call you something else.”

“…What options are there?”

“Well, anything should be fine as long as it’s not too strange? We have to consider how others see us.”

“Then… maybe, could you call me ‘oppa’?”

This guy, how much does he like being called ‘oppa’? It was the same when we went to Jeju Island, and when we went to Japan. Whenever I called him ‘oppa,’ he seemed absolutely delighted.

I’d vaguely heard that men go crazy over being called ‘oppa,’ but I didn’t know it would be to this extent.

“Oh, ‘oppa’?”

“Hmm, that might be a bit odd since we’re the same age. Maybe something else instead.”

“…Siwoo oppa.”

As he said, we’re the same age, so calling him ‘oppa’ in front of others would likely cause strange misunderstandings. But it should be fine when we’re alone. I’ve called him that a few times before, and ‘oppa’ seemed acceptable, so I called him that.

And at that moment.

Suddenly, he grabbed both my hands. With an intensely serious face, he muttered.

“Let’s keep that concept going for an hour.”

“What?”

“And let’s do it now.”

“…Do it? Now?”

At his direct words, my face instantly turned red. Grabbing my hands and saying let’s do it now—was he suggesting what I thought he was?

I never expected him to be so forward. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I tried to pull my hands away, but he held them firmly.

“Don’t you want to?”

“N-no, it’s not that I don’t want to… But, shouldn’t we not do it today…?”

“They said to do it moderately, not to stop completely.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Noticing my hesitation, he gazed at me deeply and moved closer. His eyes were clearer than usual, with desire swirling in his pupils. It was that beastly look he sometimes—very rarely—showed.

“If you want me to stop, say so now.”

“……”

Does that mean he won’t stop if I don’t say anything?

“But if you don’t say anything…”

“W-wait a moment, Siwoo? …Eek! Hehe, mmm. That tickles…!”

*

…After the commotion ended, we were still on the bed. Using his arm as a pillow, I glanced at the clock.

2 PM. Even if I got dressed and left right now, I’d definitely be late for one lecture.

“……”

Except for yesterday, I’ve had good attendance and worked hard on assignments, so my grades shouldn’t suffer too much. Actually, if they did, that would be fine too. I could use it as leverage to make demands. Mostly for those kinds of things.

“What is it?”

Noticing me staring at him, he turned toward me and spoke. I adjusted my position slightly before responding.

“Nothing, just wondering if this is okay.”

The doctor said there would be no problems if we kept things within reason, but I’m not sure what a reasonable frequency is. Twice a day? Once a day? Once every two days?

To put it bluntly, we’ve done it almost every time our eyes met, sometimes so many times in a day that we lost count. So we should cut back, but I don’t know how many times would be considered reasonable. And I’m too embarrassed to ask anyone about this.

“Are you worried?”

“Mmm… a little? Not too much.”

“Don’t worry too much. The doctor said to reduce the frequency, not to stop completely. We just need to moderate it.”

“What exactly is ‘moderate’?”

“Since we did it today, maybe in three days would be good.”

“…Three days?”

Today is Wednesday, so… that means I have to wait until at least Saturday? That seems like too long.

Feeling suddenly disappointed, my voice dropped noticeably. He looked down at me, his upper body bare, and quietly said.

“That’s a very disappointed voice.”

“How can you say that? Isn’t it obvious?”

“Why is it obvious?”

“Because it’s hard to wait.”

“Really? Our Nabi finds it hard to wait.”

He laughed softly and gently embraced my waist, patting me as if soothing a sulking child. I opened my mouth to say something but stopped, thinking it might just sound like whining.

Instead, I reached out with my left hand and fiddled with his chest. I expected him to flinch and pull away, but my prediction was wrong. Normally he would back away in surprise, but today for some reason he just watched as I touched him.

“What’s this? Why aren’t you running away?”

“Would you like me to run away?”

“That’s not it… Usually when I touch you like this, you run away.”

“I used to. But you said it’s hard to wait, right? I thought this might help you with that.”

“…Are you serious?”

“Yes, why? Don’t like it? If not, forget it.”

“No, no. I don’t dislike it. I want to touch more.”

I don’t know when his mind might change. I reached out quickly. This does make me feel a little, just a little better. It’s like the disappointment has faded somewhat.

Even if it’s just a small comfort, this isn’t an opportunity that comes easily. I might as well touch as much as possible to satisfy my desire.

“Are you done touching?”

“Ah, yes…”

After who knows how long, I withdrew my hand when I heard his voice. I felt like I’d been touching for quite a while, and even though he said I could, I felt a bit sorry for going overboard. I quickly met his eyes, intending to apologize.

I expected him to be annoyed, but surprisingly, there wasn’t a trace of displeasure on his face.

“You’re not angry…?”

“Huh? Why would I be angry?”

“Well, because I touched too much. I thought you’d naturally be upset.”

“I’m the one who told you to touch. I don’t get angry about things like that. Actually, have I ever been genuinely angry with you?”

“Hmm, probably not…?”

“Right, so why are you afraid of something like this? It’s okay to touch my chest.”

His quiet murmur saying not to worry about it genuinely moved me. I’m fortunate that this person is my boyfriend—no, my husband. I wriggled closer to him. My chest pressed against his.

“Do you want to touch mine too?”

“…No, it’s okay. I appreciate the offer.”

He deliberated for an extremely long time before finally muttering his response. Since I had already touched him, he could touch me if he wanted to. I don’t understand why he’s holding back.

“Really? Then later, you can touch when you want to.”

“…Really? I can touch when I want to later?”

“Yes, but just once. Since I only touched once.”

“Okay, got it. Thank you.”

He seems genuinely happy even though I limited it to once. I really don’t understand why men like breasts so much. They’re just fat deposits that make your shoulders ache from the weight. They get sweaty in summer and are just a nuisance.

Still, putting myself in his position, it wasn’t completely incomprehensible. I sometimes drool a bit when I see his firm chest too. Maybe it’s similar in a way?

While having these useless thoughts, I suddenly came to my senses. Tap tap. I tapped his arm, and his gaze, which had been fixed on my chest, moved up.

“Siwoo, I just remembered something. This weekend, we have lunch plans with your parents, right? You remember?”

“Yes, I remember. But why?”

“What do you mean why? Your parents still don’t know I’m pregnant. It seems inappropriate to tell them such important news over the phone, so we should tell them in person when we see them. Isn’t this weekend perfect for that?”

“…Ah, right.”