“It wasn’t a proposal?”
Thankfully, it really hadn’t been.
Because Se-min never could hold back his curiosity, he’d blurted it out—right there at breakfast, over toast, butter, jam, scrambled eggs, and coffee. As a result, Cha-hyeon, who’d almost gone down in history as the guy who made a bargain-bin proposal over breakfast, managed to explain himself in time.
The fury that had flared all the way to the “maximum” stage—running through every thought from ‘Guess I’m just the fish he’s already caught,’ to ‘He probably thinks he can slack off since I’m younger,’ to ‘He must expect me to understand him by now,’ to ‘Does he not think of me the way I think of him?’ to ‘Did he do this because he didn’t want to spend money on a ring?’ to finally ‘What was I thinking, falling for a guy like that?’—slowly fizzled out with a quiet pfft.
“…Really?”
Feeling a bit guilty for having cursed him out over something uncertain, Se-min gave an awkward smile. Of course—his Hyung wouldn’t do something like that. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Cha-hyeon cared about him deeply.
Unaware that Se-min had taken a full-on rage shower just moments ago, Cha-hyeon explained in his usual calm, patient tone.
“You’re probably thinking of the kind of proposal people do when they’re already planning a wedding—usually right before the ceremony.”
“Ah… really?”
Se-min had always imagined a proposal meant kneeling with a diamond ring in hand. But as he scratched his cheek awkwardly, it hit him—those were movie scenes. This was real life.
Proposing before even knowing how the other person felt? That’d be awkward as hell. Accepting or rejecting it would both be uncomfortable, and realizing they weren’t quite on the same page yet would just be embarrassing. It didn’t sound like the kind of moment you could enjoy with a pure, happy heart.
Thinking back, Hyung had asked if he wanted to get married—and explained why he wanted to.
…But really, who brings up a serious conversation about marriage first thing in the morning, before even washing their face?
“So you just… bring up marriage talk whenever?”
Cha-hyeon paused, then gave an honest little shrug.
“I guess I was impatient.”
“Ah…”
Nodding, Se-min picked up his toast. Impatient, huh. Somehow, that sounded kind of romantic. His rose-colored filter for Cha-hyeon thickened even more, and just when it seemed like they could finally start a peaceful breakfast, another question popped into his head.
“Hey, Hyung… are we actually going to have a wedding?”
Even though he’d already decided he wouldn’t mind marrying Cha-hyeon, the word marriage still felt distant.
Weddings. Just thinking about standing in front of guests, declaring that they were becoming a married couple—it made Se-min’s whole body squirm with secondhand embarrassment.
Of course, he’d be happy if people congratulated them, but it also sounded… stressful. And wedding halls were expensive. Was it really worth spending that much for a few hours of ceremony? Maybe that would sound naive to others.
But more than the cost, he worried whether Hyung could even handle inviting people—sending messages, calling friends. …Did he even have friends to invite?
His face twisted into a thoughtful frown. After quietly swallowing a bite of toast, Cha-hyeon asked,
“What do you want to do?”
“Me? I mean… I don’t mind either way. What about you?”
“Same here. We could skip the ceremony and just file the marriage registration.”
Marriage registration.
The words hit like a splash of cold water. Such an adult thing—something he’d never imagined actually doing in his life.
Swallowing the wow that almost slipped out, Se-min nodded, straightening his shoulders a little to look more mature. If neither of them cared for a ceremony, paperwork alone seemed fine.
“…Uh, but Hyung.”
Usually easygoing, Se-min sometimes made sudden leaps in logic. This was one of those times.
“Then… couldn’t we just do it today?”
It was just one piece of paper. If that made them a married couple, and they’d already decided to skip everything else, then why not finish breakfast and head straight to the district office?
The thought sent his heart racing.
Cha-hyeon’s lips twitched faintly. His gaze dropped for a moment before he smiled, dimples deepening.
“That’s true.”
“…Should we just get it over with, then?”
Strike while the iron’s hot, right? Once you decided, you just did it.
Trying to sound calm, Se-min tightened his grip on his toast. The golden-brown slice crumbled softly, scattering crumbs over the plate.
Cha-hyeon chuckled again. His smile was still gentle, but for a fleeting second, Se-min felt something strange—like something about him was ever so slightly… off.
“Didn’t you get mad earlier—saying it wasn’t even a real proposal?”
That snapped him right out of it.
“Ha-ha…”
Right. He had gotten mad, thinking Hyung had made some half-hearted excuse for a proposal. Feeling sheepish, Se-min looked down. Maybe his patience had been shorter than he thought—because now that ‘we’ll be married once we sign the papers’ felt real, the proposal itself didn’t seem to matter much anymore.
Still, he remembered how he’d felt earlier, thinking Hyung had been lazy about it. Everyone else exchanged rings—if they didn’t, wouldn’t that feel a little sad? And besides…
Since Hyung had been the one to ask about marriage first, maybe he should be the one to propose.
Like a lightning bolt striking the crown of his head, the idea hit him all at once.
Se-min froze in place, his heart pounding with sudden excitement. He hurried to finish his toast, trying not to let it show.
After all, he was a guy. If anyone was going to propose, he’d rather be the one doing it. He’d never imagined being on the receiving end of a proposal.
But proposing himself—that, he could imagine.
A proposal.
The word alone made his chest tighten.
A promise, a gesture asking someone to share their future with you.
He’d never thought that kind of thing would be part of his life. He’d never even imagined dating Cha-hyeon, let alone hearing him talk about marriage first.
But somehow, against all odds, it had happened. So from now on, he’d have to give it some real thought. No—he’d have to plan the perfect proposal.
The determination showed in the way he ate. While Se-min cleaned his plate spotless, Cha-hyeon barely touched his food, sipping his coffee in silence before setting the mug down.
Knowing how much Hyung usually ate, Se-min frowned.
“You’re not eating?”
“Not really hungry.”
Even as he spoke, Cha-hyeon seemed distracted, his eyes narrowing faintly before he stood up and began gathering dishes.
“Uh…”
Startled, Se-min scrambled up too, grabbing his plate and hurrying after him.
“I could’ve done it.”
They had a housekeeper who came by sometimes, but breakfast dishes were something they usually took turns with. And since Hyung had cooked this morning, Se-min felt a twinge of guilt for not helping more lately.
Cha-hyeon glanced at him, head tilting slightly. His throat moved as he swallowed, and when he spoke, his tone was soft and teasing.
“It’s fine. There aren’t many dishes—it’s faster if I do it alone.”
“…Huh?”
Se-min froze. That strange sense of wrongness returned, faint but persistent. He couldn’t quite describe it.
“Still…” he started.
Cha-hyeon chuckled again—a soft, fleeting sound that somehow carried a hint of mockery. But when Se-min met his eyes, his expression was as kind as ever, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Or,” he said lightly, “do you want to splash around beside me?”
…What?
A chill rippled down Se-min’s spine. The words—it was like they brushed against a half-forgotten memory.
His tone was oddly dry, even cynical, but the words themselves… felt familiar.
No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t recall actually living that moment before. Maybe it was just something too trivial to remember—or maybe something so familiar it didn’t stand out.
After all, that kind of teasing…
“…We’re not at a pool, so why would I splash around?”
“Because it’d be fun to watch you.”
…That was exactly the kind of thing Hyung used to say—before he lost his memories.
