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Seungmin decided to plan a surprise dinner on a completely ordinary afternoon, which, in hindsight, was his first mistake.
Minhee was in the kitchen. The woman hummed softly while washing strawberries one by one, like she had all the time in the world. Yongbok sat at the table, legs swinging, narrating an elaborate story to her Bbokkari doll about dragons.
Everything was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
And Seungmin, stood at the edge of the hallway with his phone in hand. He watched Minhee laugh at something Yongbok said, the sound light and effortless, and the decision settled in him fully formed.
A surprise dinner.
Tonight.
On the rooftop.
Seungmin swallowed and immediately felt the weight of it. Unlike his older brother, Seungmin was not impulsive by nature. He planned, double-checked, worried, rechecked.
But once the idea lodged itself in his mind, it refused to leave. His wife deserve something special, something intentional.
He quietly backed away before she could notice him staring. His first stop was Yongbok. She looked up at him with wide, curious eyes when he crouched in front of her, lowering his voice like they were about to discuss state secrets.
“Ms. Yongbok,” he said solemnly. “I need your help.”
Her eyes lit up instantly. “Is it a mission?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Seungmin nodded gravely. “A very important one.”
She leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table, whispering, “For Mommy?”
Seungmin blinked. “How did you—”
“I know,” she said confidently. “You only make that face for Mommy.”
That was... fair.
He smiled despite himself. “Okay. Yes. It’s for Mommy. But it has to be a secret.”
Yongbok gasped, and nodded as she slapped a hand over her mouth. “I am excellent at secrets.” she whispered dramatically.
That wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. Still, Seungmin nodded. “You’re my helper. Your job is to keep Mommy busy later. Can you do that?”
Yongbok puffed up with pride. “I can do many busy things.”
He suspected she would, whether he asked or not.
Next problem: logistics.
Which meant Jeongin.
He texted her a single message.
Seungmin: Emergency. Need help. Dinner. Rooftop. Romance-related. 🙁
The reply came almost immediately.
Jeongin: 😏 I’m coming over.
Ten minutes later, Jeongin slipped into the house like she’d been summoned. She kicked off her shoes quietly, scanning the room with the sharp, observant look that made Seungmin trust her more than anyone else in situations like this.
“What's the occasion?” she asked, already lowering her voice.
“I want to surprise my lady,” Seungmin said, hands tucked nervously into his pockets. “Dinner. Rooftop. Tonight.”
Jeongin paused, then smiled slowly. “That’s cute.”
Seungmin relaxed a fraction. He explained in hushed tones, what he wanted, what he wasn’t sure about, what could go wrong. Jeongin listened, nodding, occasionally tilting her head like she was mentally rearranging the plan into something workable.
“I’ll help you handle the setup,” she decided. “Lights, table, food timing. You handle the feelings and romance alone.”
Seungmin exhaled. “Thank you.”
“Also,” she added, glancing toward the kitchen, “Bokkie will do the distraction.”
“She already promised to,” Seungmin said.
Jeongin grinned. “Good. That gives us time.”
From the kitchen, Minhee laughed again, warm, unguarded, and Seungmin peeked around the corner just long enough to see her smiling at Yongbok, unaware of the quiet conspiracy forming around her.
His chest tightened. This could go terribly wrong. Something would probably spill. He would forget something important.
But for his woman? He was willing to risk it.
The mission officially began the moment Yongbok decided it had.
She climbed onto the couch. “Mommy, I have a Very Important Day Plan for us.”
Minhee looked up from her phone, one eyebrow lifting with immediate suspicion. “Oh?”
“Yes,” Yongbok said seriously. “We will do crafts. And stories. And snacks.”
Minhee slowly turned her head toward Seungmin, who was suddenly very invested in the pattern on the wall.
“Is your Papa busy?” she asked sweetly.
Seungmin coughed. “Extremely.”
“With what?”
“Uh,” he said, buying time. “Adult… things.”
Jeongin, passing by with a tote bag suspiciously full of something clinking inside, didn’t even bothered to look at them.
“Taxes,” she offered calmly.
Minhee laughed. “Of course. The most romantic adult thing.”
Yongbok tugged on Minhee’s hand insistently. “Mommy, come. NOW. Papa will do... uh... taxes.”
The woman let Yongbok pull her away toward the living room, still smiling, and Seungmin watched them go with a mix of relief and awe.
Little witch was terrifyingly effective.
The moment Minhee was out of sight, Jeongin snapped into action. “Okay,” she said, rolling up her sleeves. “Rooftop. Now.”
The rooftop was… bare.
Very Seungmin-coded in the sense that it had potential but no atmosphere whatsoever.
Jeongin clicked her tongue. “We can work with this.” She directed him with quick, confident motions, table here, chairs angled just right, lights strung low. Seungmin followed every instruction like it was law, pausing only to ask questions that betrayed how badly he wanted this to be perfect.
“Is this too much light?”
“No.”
“Too little?”
“Also no.”
“Are the chairs uneven?”
“Only in your head.”
He smiled sheepishly and kept going.
Downstairs, the distraction escalated.
Minhee found herself sitting on the floor with Yongbok, surrounded by crayons, paper, and what appeared to be an unnecessary amount of glitter.
Every time Minhee glanced toward the stairs, Yongbok intercepted her with something new, another drawing, a story that required full attention, a snack break that absolutely could not wait.
Up on the rooftop, Seungmin nearly dropped a candle when he heard Minhee laugh again.
They worked in near silence after that, the sun beginning its slow descent, the city lights flickering on one by one. When everything was finally in place, table set, lights glowing warm and gentle, Seungmin stood back and stared.
It wasn’t extravagant. It wasn’t flashy. But it was intentional. Careful.
He swallowed, nerves creeping back in. “What if she figures it out before-”
Jeongin placed a hand on his arm. “She won’t. Yongbok’s on it.”
If there was one thing Seungmin underestimated, it was how difficult it was to act normal when you were hiding a surprise.
He came back downstairs freshly washed, hair still slightly damp, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms.
Minhee glanced up. “You survived your… taxes?”
“Barely,” he said gravely.
Yongbok was very busy aggressively coloring a drawing of what Minhee suspected was their family, except everyone had crowns and Seungmin had been given a suspiciously large cape.
“Papa,” Yongbok whispered loudly, “don't be weird.”
Seungmin nodded. “I will try my best.”
Minhee studied him for a moment longer than necessary. There was something different, something in the way he kept glancing at the clock, in how he hovered like he was waiting for a cue only he could hear.
“You’re acting strange,” she said.
“Am I?” he asked too quickly.
“Yes.”
He smiled, the soft, nervous one she knew too well. “Maybe I just missed you.”
That, unfortunately, made her scoff, and smile instead of interrogating him further.
Jeongin cleared her throat. “Min... Bokkie?”
Both of them looked up.
“I think,” Jeongin said casually, “it’s time for a wardrobe change.”
Minhee blinked. “Why?”
“Because,” Yongbok jumped in, “Mommy is too pretty for glitter glue pants.”
The woman laughed. “These are my house pants.”
“Yes,” Yongbok agreed solemnly. “But today is not a house day.”
Seungmin’s heart began to race, while Minhee hesitated. “You’re all being very dramatic.”
Jeongin stood and gently took Minhee’s hand. “Just trust us. Five minutes.”
Minhee looked between the three of them, her daughter vibrating with excitement, her sister suspiciously calm, her husband trying not to visibly panic, and finally sighed.
“Okay.”
The moment she disappeared into the bedroom, Seungmin grabbed Jeongin’s arm.
“She suspects.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Jeongin said. “She’s curious. There’s a difference.”
Yongbok gasped. “Papa, you’re sweating.”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” she insisted. “Like when you lie.”
Seungmin exhaled shakily. “I just want her to like it.”
Yongbok tilted her head. “Mommy likes you.”
That almost took him out.
Jeongin checked her phone, then nodded. “Alright. Showtime.”
Minhee came back a few minutes later, hair loose, wearing one of her softer dresses. She stopped short when she saw them all lined up.
“What... is happening?”
Seungmin stepped forward.
“Okay,” Jeongin cut in briskly, “Yongbok, position.”
Yongbok grabbed Minhee’s hand. “Mommy. Close your eyes.”
Minhee raised a brow. “Oh, this is serious.”
“Yes,” Yongbok nodded. “No peeking.”
Minhee obediently closed her eyes, still smiling. “Alright.”
Yongbok guided her carefully, step by step, toward the stairs. “Careful,” Seungmin said instinctively.
“I know how to walk,” Minhee teased.
“I know, I just-”
“Papa,” Yongbok whispered urgently.
Seungmin shut up.
They climbed in silence, the house suddenly feeling too quiet. At the rooftop door, Jeongin opened it slowly, letting the warm glow spill out.
“Okay,” Yongbok whispered. “Open.”
Minhee opened her eyes. For a split second, there was only stillness. Then she inhaled sharply.
The fairy lights glowed soft and golden against the evening sky. The table was set simply but beautifully. Candles flickered gently, the city lights stretching endlessly behind it all.
Minhee covered her mouth. “Oh.” She turned to her husband, eyes shining. “You did all this?”
He nodded, suddenly unable to find words. Minhee reached out, fingers curling into his sleeve, grounding him. “Seungmin… this is perfect.”
Yongbok clapped her hands. “SURPRISE DINNER!”
Jeongin leaned against the railing, arms crossed, satisfied. “Didn’t ruin it.”
Seungmin let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. And for the first time since he started planning, he finally believed...
Everything was going to be okay.
They sat down slowly, like no one wanted to disturb the moment by moving too fast.
Minhee reached for Seungmin’s hand across the table, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in that absent-minded way she did when she was overwhelmed, in the good way.
“This is…” She searched for the right word, then smiled. “So you.”
Seungmin huffed softly. “That good or bad?”
“The best kind,” she said easily.
The food was simple, warm, familiar, carefully chosen. Seungmin served Minhee first without thinking, a habit so ingrained it didn’t even register anymore.
Yongbok leaned over, peering at Minhee’s plate. “Mama, Papa practiced cutting vegetables like this.”
Minhee turned to him slowly. “Is that true?”
Seungmin coughed. “Bokkie.”
“It is,” Yongbok insisted proudly. “He said if Mommy gets even one bad carrot, he’ll cry.”
Minhee laughed, the sound warm and full.
Jeongin cleared her throat loudly. “Before you two disappear into each other... excuse us.”
She scooped Yongbok, who was already climbing onto her chair with the seriousness of someone about to attend an important meeting, and took her back to the house.
Dinner unfolded easily after that, stories slipping between bites, laughter echoing softly under the open sky.
Minhee leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I wanted to, for my wife,” he replied just as softly.
She smiled at him then, the private one meant only for him. Minhee reached out, pulling his hand for a soft kiss. The city hummed around them, the candles flickered lower, and for a long moment,
Nothing else existed.
Just love.
Just them.
By the time the plates were cleared, amd they came downstairs, the night had softened into something quiet and kind.
Yongbok was the first casualty.
On the couch, she’d been curled between her aunt's arms, cheek pressed to Jeongin's side, fingers loosely clutching her sleeve like she might float away if she let go. Her breathing slow, evened out.
Minhee noticed first. “She’s gone,” she whispered, smiling fondly. She brushed Yongbok’s hair back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
For a while, they didn’t move. The city lights blinked lazily in the distance, the night breeze cool but gentle.
Seungmin wrapped an arm around his wife, looking at his little family close like this was something fragile.
Eventually, Minhee shifted just enough to look at him. “You were nervous today,” she said quietly.
He exhaled, a small laugh escaping him. “Was it that obvious?”
“To me,” she replied.
Seungmin glanced down at Yongbok, making sure she was still asleep, before looking back at Minhee. “I wanted it to be perfect.”
Minhee shook her head slowly. “It already was.”
He searched her face, like he was checking if she really meant it.
“You know, I don’t need grand things,” she continued softly. “I only need you. I only need us. And this little menace.”
Yongbok snorted in her sleep, as if agreeing, and Seungmin smiled, eyes shining. “I know.”
They carried Yongbok inside together, careful steps, quiet laughter when she shifted and mumbled something incoherent about snacks. Seungmin tucked her into bed, pulling the blanket up just right, standing there a second longer than necessary.
Minhee watched from the doorway. “You’re a good husband,” she said gently. “And a good dad.”
He turned, surprised. “You say that like I don’t know.”
She smiled, and nudges him. “I say it because you forget.”
They ended the night on their daughter's bed, legs tangled, Minhee’s head resting on Seungmin’s shoulder.
No candles. No music. Just the soft hum of home.
“We’ll do this again.” Said Seungmin, and pressed a kiss into her hair.
Minhee laughed quietly. “I know you will.”
Outside, the night carried on.
Inside, everything was exactly where it was meant to be.