Unspoken Comfort

As the night descended upon the sprawling mansion, Eun-tae's car glided to a halt in front of the grand entrance. The soft hum of the engine faded into the tranquil evening air, and he took a moment to admire the imposing yet elegant structure that had become an unexpected focal point of his life. Tonight held a sense of anticipation, a juncture where paths converged and possibilities unfurled.

Just as Eun-tae stepped out of his car, his gaze was drawn to a figure standing by the entrance. A-ri, her silhouette bathed in the gentle glow of the porch lights, was a vision of understated elegance. She wore a nightdress that exuded modesty and comfort, a departure from the alluring attire he had seen on countless occasions. The sight was surprisingly endearing, evoking memories of how the maids in his family mansion would welcome him with similar grace and propriety.

Stepping closer, Eun-tae couldn't help but comment, his voice carrying a note of playful chiding. "You know, Ms Han, you don't have to wait outside for me."

A-ri's lips formed a pout, and she glanced up at him, her eyes dancing with a mixture of sass and mischief. However, she chose to remain silent, her playful defiance a response in itself. Eun-tae's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of realization dancing in his eyes.

"Ms Han," he addressed her, his tone intentionally formal. "You could have just stayed inside, you know."

The corners of A-ri's lips twitched, her playful demeanour momentarily faltering as she processed his words. Eun-tae's eyebrows quirked in concern, his eyes searching her face for any sign of discomfort.

"It's not fair," Finally, A-ri's voice broke through the silence, carrying a touch of petulance.

"What's not fair?" Eun-tae's confusion deepened, his brows knitting together.

"I have to call you by your given name, but you still call me by my family name," A-ri's gaze held a mix of earnestness and vulnerability.

A soft chuckle escaped Eun-tae, his initial surprise giving way to a realization that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Ah, I see," he murmured, a hint of bashfulness colouring his features. "I apologize, A-ri."

"So, are you going to call me by my given name now?" A playful glint returned to A-ri's eyes, and she arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

Eun-tae's cheeks warmed, his resolve faltering under her teasing gaze.

"Yes, A-ri," he conceded, a softness in his tone that mirrored the warmth in his eyes.

With a satisfied grin, A-ri turned on her heel, her nightdress swaying gently as she headed towards the entrance. Eun-tae followed suit, the exchange having lightened the air between them.

A-ri led Eun-tae past the living room, her steps guided by a sense of purpose that Eun-tae could only speculate about. He was about to inquire about their destination when he noticed the dining area ahead. The table was elegantly set, adorned with plates, dishes, and utensils. His stomach gave an almost exaggerated growl, and he couldn't help but clear his throat in a failed attempt to hide his embarrassment.

"I'm glad I made dinner," A-ri turned to him, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she caught the unmistakable sound as she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Eun-tae's cheeks tinged with a faint blush, his amusement at his predicament evident in his eyes. A-ri's smile at that moment struck him – genuine and heartwarming, a stark contrast to the calculated smiles he had grown accustomed to in his world. It reminded him of the warmth he felt when his mother greeted him, a smile that radiated love and authenticity.

As they took their seats and began to enjoy the meal A-ri had prepared, a comfortable silence settled between them. The clinking of utensils against plates was accompanied by fleeting glances and unspoken exchanges, each moment deepening the connection that was taking root between them.

"You know, Eun-tae, this feels oddly familiar," after a few bites, A-ri's voice broke the silence, carrying a playful lilt.

"Does it?" He looked up at her, his lips quirking into a smile.

"Remember that lunch we had? When I embarrassingly poured my heart out about my problems?" A-ri nodded a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"How could I forget? You were quite... passionate," Eun-tae chuckled softly, the memory resurfacing with surprising clarity.

"Passionate is one way to put it. Mortifying is another," A-ri playfully rolled her eyes, a mock scowl on her face.

"Well, I thought it was refreshing. I don't often get to witness such candidness," Eun-tae's laughter rang out, genuine and unrestrained.

Their shared laughter echoed through the room, a testament to the comfort they had found in each other's presence. As the dinner drew to a close, A-ri cleared her throat, her expression growing more curious.

"Oh, by the way," she began, her gaze drifting to a box that had remained untouched on the nearby sideboard. "What's in that box you brought?"

"Oh, that? It's just some... paperwork. Nothing interesting," Eun-tae's heart skipped a beat, and he attempted to steer the conversation away from the topic.

A-ri's eyes gleamed with playful intrigue as she reached for the box, her fingers deftly lifting the lid. Eun-tae's heart raced, a mix of apprehension and curiosity filling the air.

However, his attempt to change the subject had been futile, and he watched with a mixture of dread and fascination as A-ri's eyes widened in shock. The contents of the box were laid bare before her – the pictures, the marriage certificate, and the carefully crafted images of their shared moments.

"Is this..." A-ri's voice trailed off, disbelief evident in her tone. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yes, A-ri. It's the package from Eternal Bond," Eun-tae sighed, realizing that there was no escaping the truth now.

"How did they... How did they create these pictures?" A-ri's gaze remained fixed on the images, a mix of emotions flickering across her face.

"Technology nowadays is quite advanced. They probably used various methods to create those images," Eun-tae shrugged his expression a blend of resignation and bemusement.

"It's... unsettling," A-ri nodded slowly, her eyes still locked on the photos.

"That's one way to describe it," Eun-tae's lips quirked into a wry smile.

"Eun-tae, do you realize how invasive that is? How could they create a picture of us... kissing?" A-ri turned to him, her eyes meeting his with a hint of determination.

"Yes, I already saw it, A-ri. It's a breach of privacy, and I apologize for any discomfort it may have caused you," Eun-tae's gaze held a mixture of sympathy and understanding.

"Technology is indeed scary," A-ri mused, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation. Her lips tightened into a thin line, her frustration palpable.

"While it is invasive, A-ri, think of it this way – those pictures can also serve as proof of our marriage. In the eyes of the public and the media, having such images could deter any scandal speculations, especially for someone in my position," Eun-tae's expression grew contemplative, and he spoke with a touch of pragmatism.

"I suppose you have a point, Eun-tae," A-ri's gaze softened, a hint of understanding replacing her frustration.

"Yes, it is," He nodded, a wry smile gracing his lips.

Their eyes held a shared understanding, a silent promise to navigate the complexities of their situation together. As they gazed at each other, Eun-tae felt a renewed sense of purpose, a desire to protect the fragile connection they were building amidst the artifice.

"Shouldn't everything in the box be in your office then? I mean, that's where you conduct your business, and if everyone there knows about our arrangement, it might prevent unnecessary gossip and speculation," A-ri's brows furrowed, her curiosity piqued.

"You make a valid point, A-ri," Eun-tae's lips quirked into a faint smile, his gaze thoughtful.

"Right? It's just more practical that way," She nodded, a sense of satisfaction in having her logic acknowledged.

"Well, I did consider that option, but there's also something to be said about keeping it here," Eun-tae's gaze shifted to the box once again, and he considered her words.

"Here? Why?" A-ri's eyes widened in surprise.

"Think about it – this mansion is still under my ownership, and if anyone, the media or anyone who aimed for my downfall, were to unexpectedly come here and meet you, having those pictures as evidence might be more effective," Eun-tae leaned back in his chair, his gaze meeting hers.

A-ri's lips parted her expression a mixture of realization and surprise. Eun-tae's perspective had caught her off guard, and she couldn't help but see the wisdom in his reasoning.

"You have a point," she conceded, her voice softening. "But still, it wouldn't hurt to have at least one picture in your office. It's your workplace, after all."

"Alright, fair enough. But I'll let you choose the picture. Just not the one where we're kissing, please," Eun-tae chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes.

A-ri laughed, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Deal." She rummaged through the pictures in the box until she found one that caught her eye. "How about this one?"

Eun-tae's gaze followed her finger, and a smile tugged at his lips. The picture depicted them sitting on a bench in a park, their edited forms seemingly engaged in a casual conversation. It was a scene of companionship and ease, a snapshot of a moment that held more warmth than any staged kiss could convey.

"That's perfect," Eun-tae said, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. "I frame this one and set it by my office desk."

"Agreed," A-ri grinned, a sense of accomplishment washing over her.

As they set the picture aside and resumed their conversation, the mansion seemed to absorb their shared decision, its walls becoming witnesses to a new chapter in their unconventional journey.