The flight to Incheon was the longest I'd ever traveled. While I thought the extensive time would wear on my body, hours of shifting between sleep, zoning out on films that struggled to hold my attention against the light changing sky, and silly childhood games Seokjin and I used to pass time left me restless.

Seokjin gathered our belongings, one carry-on strapped to his back and mine dangling from his arm once we were instructed to deplane. We barely made it through customs before we were met by two men in sleek suits.

I'd never heard him groan the way he did when he laid eyes on them, an exasperated sigh that had me raising my eyebrows in search of an explanation.

"My parents know I'm here." He answered my unspoken question while removing our bags to hand over. The men made quick greetings to Seokjin and since I could understand more Korean than I could speak eloquently, I picked up that we were to be escorted to his family estate.

I didn't pay much attention to road signs, observing only that the city was congested, traffic thinning as we moved into the outskirts of town. Most of my focus was on Seokjin, irritability sweeping through him so that he spoke in an almost curt manner, tension in every muscle I touched.

"Hey," my thumbs kneaded against the tightness of his bicep, "we can deal with your parents. I knew I'd be meeting them."

The reminder didn't soothe his broodish demeanor, but I listened to him exhale, deep and slow as if he were moving toward accepting our current change in plans.

"I know, I thought it'd be after we had a chance to enjoy ourselves here. After I showed you the good things." 

He suddenly appeared juvenile and reserved as we approached the gated estate. There was staff at each point of contact, to grant access to the land, to retrieve our luggage from the boot, and to greet us as soon as the imposing double doors opened in sync.

"Seokjin." The middle-aged man who stood where the doors met, their bows respectful but less pronounced.

When he was upright again they both turned to me, Seokjin giving a small introduction and leaving room for me to address the house manager, Mr. Hwang. We were led into the home, a place of pure opulence and obvious wealth. Items I was afraid to touch, let alone breathe on lined the wide entryway, opening into a spacious floor plan with a muted and modern kitchen and living area.

It was the same as Seokjin's house in the way that it appeared unused, couches still firm and countertops that were almost too shiny.

Mr. Hwang began a tour of the premises that Seokjin didn't interrupt for the time being, pointing out pieces of art and sculpture as if he'd been instructed on which to highlight. He opened the glass doors that gave view to the back of the house, a garden of buds in pale shades and rich greenery.

I was anticipating that his mother would pop around a corner at any moment, that we'd peek around a cracked office door to find his father huddled across a desktop.

There was no indication of anyone else's presence, no noise outside of our shoes moving against glossy tile.

Seokjin cleared his throat at the bottom of the stairs. "I can take it from here." He nodded to Mr. Hwang who hesitated to leave us to our own devices.

He kept a front of politeness amid the indignation he radiated, surely from the years he spent watching his family brag about their financial success as the most important part of their identity. Even when I paused to take in the detailed portrait of his family at the apex of the staircase, he felt the need to explain. 

"I stood for that portrait alone. The smile isn't even real."

Just as in the portrait, everything about him was hollow in this house. I only had a chance to glint at the interior of his bedroom before we were shuffling to another across the hallway where I'd sleep. It was just as empty despite it being the room he spent the majority of his life in. No sign that it ever belonged to a rambunctious, joyful little boy, shy, game-addicted teen, or serious, unsure adult.

The bedroom I'd occupy was just the same, leading to my wonder of whose standards the home's aesthetic conformed to. I would soon learn that everything within the house and family image was under the control of Seokjin's mother.

Apparently she'd returned from the office during my shower, after I refused multiple caretakers offering to wash my hair, set out my clothes, or provide services to enhance my bathing experience. I nearly ran into her on my way to Seokjin's bedroom, my hair half wet and dressed in a flowy matching pajama set instead of my dinner wear. I'd been bolder in the initial sloppy presentation of myself at Jaesang's wedding, less concerned with her acceptance of me when our relationship had been for show. Now I stood in front of her, in a too awkward position to address her with the full bow I intended, even stammering over the greetings I was firmly confident in.

Seokjin was there, intervening so quickly that his mother barely had time to respond to me. He began by using English with her, having assured me that his family was multilingual, but returned to Korean when she replied to him in the language.

She ignored my presence for the majority of their conversation, while I tried to focus on piecing together their statements. Instead, I was distracted by the sharp edges of her hair, cut into a bone straight bob. Her nails were shaped and painted a neutral color, the tips of her stilettos threatening to jab me in the ankle should she take a step forward. Everything about her sense of fashion was angular, simply abrasive, a contrast to the soft almond eyes and round lips she shared with Seokjin.

"Let me show you our plans for the expansion of the company into the U.S. while Seline dresses for dinner." She spoke so that I would understand, the scrutiny behind her up and down look at me more sending more of a message than her assertion.

He went along with her every request, trailing next to her down the nearest corridor while she talked to him with that same pointed, astute tone he used on their phone calls.

I picked through the clothes that'd been unpacked for me, organized by color and style in the guest closet. I thumbed through the few dresses I bought, each of them standing out with bright fabrics.

My focus was locked in on my selection of shoes when there was a tapping at my door. It opened before I could answer, Seokjin appearing in the entryway.

"Am I supposed to wear shoes to dinner? I know we took ours off by the door but your mom had on shoes and," I glanced down to the shiny loafers he wore, "so do you."

He reached onto the shelf that held my footwear, sliding two fingers into the feet of a pair of ivory mules. "These will work since you haven't worn them yet." The gesture wasn't necessary but he knelt anyway, slipping my feet into the openings. His hand curved around my calf when he finished, oval eyes rounding out as he looked up at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this here, in this house."

I knew what he meant, felt the lack of love in the home as soon as we'd stepped through the doors. I searched for it but could only picture the stories I knew to be true, unengaging dinners around the dining table, end of the year holidays alone while his parents focused on concluding the final quarter of business, and Seokjin spending every feasible moment outside of these walls.

He had us moving back through those doors, far past the confines of his childhood home before a proper conclusion of our meal.

His parents were just polite enough that it wouldn't warrant any complaint, though I was excluded from much of the conversation. While Seokjin was artful in pivoting the focus away from their corporation and financial dealings, his attempts were short lived.

I lost count of the number of times we reached for the other's hand beneath the table, a reassuring squeeze that we'd let the tiny aggressions roll off our shoulders. I squeezed a little harder when his mother shut down Seokjin's suggestion to seek my professional opinion on their most recent marketing photos. She was shaking her head and deeming it unnecessary before I could utter a word of interest. His hand was tight around mine, my thumb reaching to stroke the back of his palm each time his father made declarations that assumed he would be returning to his former position within the company.

I'd relinquished my effort to keep up with the nuances of their discussions, taking more interest in the staff. They attended to us even as the hour grew later, appearing to refill glasses as if they received notifications any time they edged toward emptiness.

"Excuse me, I need the restroom." My chair scrubbed against the floor when I stood, Seokjin disengaging from his mother's commentary on their latest competitor's product release to check in on me with a look. I acknowledged him with a single nod, a woman whose age I wouldn't bet on guessing gesturing through an open doorway to a short corridor.

I'd only rounded the corner when I halted at the sound of my name on his mother's tongue. I was out of sight, a couple of silent steps back toward the dining room allowing me to hear clearer.

I wasn't sure what she said to start in on me, but I heard the crack in Seokjin's voice as he challenged her.

"I love her."

His father laughed, as if Seokjin had told the most humorous joke in history. It nearly sent me back inside, but a hand on my shoulder held me firm. The female staff member attempted to coax me toward the bathroom. I held up a hand, hoping that she'd stop so that we didn't draw attention.

Each of them attempted to goad him away from his feelings for me, to think more rationally about a relationship. His mother wanted him with someone more attuned to their values, someone "better." His father's suggestion that I would accept the insurmountable amount of money he'd offer to dissolve our relationship was the final straw.

I flinched at the sound of another chair, legs scraping aggressively as Seokjin stood. My ear pressed against the edge of the wall, the low, slow response he gave unable to be heard with the distance.

He nearly ran into me on his way out, skidding to a stop with an expression that was presented as anger. His fist unclenched from his side, brow and jaw still sharp with tension. Those eyes gave the pain away, glassy and pooling with hurt.

When they met mine they went soft, tears puddling against his lash line. He didn't let them fall, gaze lowered to the ground and shadowed from view.

"Lets pack and get out of here." His voice was thick with emotion.

The staff member who'd been by my side had already taken a few steps back, keeping a polite separation. "Okay, I'll be there in just a minute." I lifted onto my toes to kiss the spot easiest to access with his downturned leer, right under the apple of his cheek.

I waited until he was halfway up the stairs before reentering the dining room. His parents sat prim and poised, his mother picking over her dessert with a fork while his father indulged down to the last crumb.

There was no plan. I had no idea what I'd say until I was in front of them, palms pressed onto the spotless glass. Our place settings had already been removed.

"He needs you to love him." The words came out shaky, a soreness in my heart at speaking the truth of him, of their family. "I love him, but it's not enough. I can't give him the kind of love he's missing." My head shook, refusing to register any subtle reactions in their manner. This, I just needed them to know. "Your greatest shame will be that you don't truly know him. He's magnificent, and it's despite you."

The car ride to our hotel was soundless. We made no attempts to fill it with pretty words or apologies. His to me would have been a frail stab at mending his parent's outward disapproval of me. Uttering I'm sorry to him felt like an useless aim to comfort his deep longing for parental love.

Instead, when we entered our hotel room I took the first seat I could find, on a primrose sofa that stretched along the wall. We didn't bother with the bedroom, Seokjin spanning the length of the chaise so that his head rested in my lap. My hands occupied his hair, feathering through the thin strands and occasionally reaching to brush away the tears that moved from the corners of his eyes each time he talked. There was no cadence to his statements, all strung together with pauses in between. They were professions of the ache he felt as a child. That ache was the same now, red-rimmed eyes and pouty lips that I couldn't fix. I made do with listening ears and soothing lips against his forehead until we were so emotionally depleted there was no choice but to rest.

I stirred awake surrounded by fluff, the comforter piling around me and pillows tucked beneath my neck and knees the way I preferred.

The mirrored vanity against the wall revealed my birdsnest of a bedhead, mascara from the previous day smudged under my eyes. It was instinct to wipe my eyes, leaving my hands marked by black smudges.

I heard Seokjin before the door opened, in the midst of a cheerful chat over the phone. It was tucked between his shoulder and ear, two cups of coffee balancing in his clawed fingers. He was already smiling when he met my eye, leaning down for me to pay his coffee tax with a peck to his mouth before handing over my cup.

"Pretty." He spoke over the person on the other line. I rolled my eyes at the absurd compliment, one of his brows arching to challenge my dismissal.

He sat against the headboard next to me, putting a hand out to keep me from getting out of bed when I went to move to the bathroom. The person he talked with could be heard through the speaker, Seokjin assuring them that we'd be over soon to continue catching up.

The phone was lost in the sheets once he ended the call, swiveling to pin me to the mattress by my wrists. "Now what was that eye roll about?"

I giggled, ignoring his question for another. "Who will we be over to see soon?"

"You'll see, as soon as you stop holding us up and get ready." He taunted, the one who kept me secured to the mattress, teasing with insatiable kisses to my face and neck.

It was all for the better, the rest of our trip filled with the good things. We visited the same restaurant he frequented since he was a child, greeted by the matriarch and patriarch that ran the establishment at the end of a stone pathway. They embraced me, continuing conversations with Seokjin and I from the open kitchen. While they prepared dishes to fill the small table that Seokjin claimed, his initials permanently scratched into the wood, I admired the family photos, art, and antique utensils adorning the walls.

In true fashion, he honored his vow to make up for our missed adventures in California with a nighttime visit to the Cheonpyeongsa Waterfall. I cried at the beauty of the oldest, largest tree in the country, a gingko that stood strong even after eight hundred years of life.

The lakehouse on Cheongpyeong Lake, inherited from his grandfather, was similar to our home in Rochester. The water was clouded with a layer of fog in the mornings, but every afternoon when it cleared Seokjin readied himself to spend time nestled in a cedar canoe, his fishing line draped over the edge.

I knew that he carried more affection for this place and for his grandfather than any other. It became more vivid with every story of his visits that were told. By the last day of our trip, I could visualize them, sitting silently across from each other in the same boat he used now so as to not disturb the fish, with broth splattered across the counters and stove after making stew, and with the promise of a lifelong escape from the places that never felt like home.

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Author's Note: I don't even know what to talk about first. Let's start with a moment for ARMY Day! I'm so happy for every moment I've spent loving this group and for the friends I've connected with over our shared love. If you're reading this, I'd love to see some comments about your ARMY story, whether that's when you became ARMY, a special person you connected to within the fandom, anything. I love all the stories!

I've been staring at the cursor again for an extra five minutes trying to figure out the right words to thank every person who's ever clicked on this story. Whether you have been with me since day one, joined me in reading along my journey of writing it, or have just arrived, I'm so appreciative of you. We're at 50,000 reads ya'll!