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Luke woke up to a faint sound he couldn’t really place.
He shifted slightly, still half asleep, thinking it was probably nothing. But then he realized it was coming from nearby.
The bathroom.
Yerin was already up.
He turned his head and saw the bathroom door inside their bedroom slightly open, warm light spilling out.
Inside, Yerin was in front of the mirror doing her skincare routine like she didn’t even know what “skipping it” meant.
Luke didn’t move right away.
Just watched her.
He always ended up doing that.
Before Yerin, skincare was something he used to mock a little. Too many steps. Too much effort. Not necessary.
He was a wash-face-sleep-drink-water kind of guy.
Then she came along and somehow made all of it look… intentional.
Even the smallest things. The way she tapped product into her skin, the way she focused like it's a matter of life and death.
Her routine wasn’t just a habit. It was something she didn’t negotiate with.
And yeah… it suited her too well.
What he loved most, though, was that he was usually the one benefitting from the result of all that effort. Her skin looked immaculate. Smooth. Glowy. Almost unfair.
So irresistible it made it hard not to touch.
He remembered during filming Bridgerton Season 4, one of his favorite scenes was actually the ones where he had to kiss her face. They weren’t together yet, not then—but he already felt weirdly lucky just doing it. Like he was getting away with something.
Her cheeks, her forehead, the corner of her jaw—he didn’t think much of it at the time, just that it felt… natural. Too natural.
And then she’d giggle.
Most of the time she’d break character right after, which meant take after take after take.
Not that he was complaining. He really wasn’t.
If anything, he was probably the only one on set secretly enjoying the retakes.
Even now, even during press tours, he had to remind himself not to stare too long.
Because he always did.
Yerin started speaking softly in Korean, phone on loudspeaker.
Luke leaned a bit closer without thinking.
He loved when she spoke Korean. Not even just the words—it was the way she looked when she did it. Like she slipped into another version of herself.
He was definitely not normal about it.
His eyes drifted to what she was holding.
Two smooth, chilled spheres—pink, glossy, rolling across her cheeks.
He’d started calling them her “pink balls” in his head and never corrected it.
Yerin: “Ne, geuga jeoreul aju jal dolbwa juyo.” (Yes, he takes very good care of me.)
Her mom’s voice came through, loud and way too amused.
Yerin’s Mom: “Geureol jul arasseoyo. Geunde jega algo shipeun geon… uri kkot halmeoni, halabeojiga doeneun geon-ga-yo?” (I knew it. But what I want to know is… are we becoming grandparents soon?)
Yerin froze mid-motion. “Eomma!!!”
Luke didn’t even hesitate.
Luke: Annyeonghaseyo, jangmonim. Jal jinaeseyo?” (Hello, mother-in-law. How are you?)
A beat.
Then laughter.
Yerin's Mom: “Annyeonghaseyo, sawi Luke imnida.” (Hello Luke-Son-in-law)
Yerin ended the call immediately. “Okay that’s enough, bye!!!”
Silence again.
She just went right back to her routine like nothing happened, despite her blushing.
“You both talk like we’re already married,” she muttered.
Luke came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Well… not yet.”
Then he kissed her neck.
“Luke! I literally just put eye cream there.”
“Worth it.”
His eyes dropped to the pink globes in her hands.
“I like your pink balls.”
Yerin didn’t even look at him. “I like yours too.”
Pause.
Luke slowly looked at her.
“…you what?”
She blinked.
Then immediately: “I mean your blue balls.”
They both lost it.
Because yeah—he had his own set too. Blue ones. Same thing, just his.
Yerin had bought them for him and explained it properly.
Ice globes. You chill them, use them on your face, helps with puffiness, calms your skin.
He nodded like he got it.
But in his head they were permanently just blue balls.
She never pushed him into anything. That was the difference.
She just… waited. And when he was ready, she went all in—like actually building him a routine, printing it out, sticking it on their bathroom mirror like instructions for life.
And weirdly enough, he followed it.
His friends noticed.
“You’re glowing, man.”
“It’s the Korean skincare,” his closest friend Vee teased. He’d just shrug and smile like an idiot.
Yerin finished her routine and turned to him, grabbing his hands.
“Here, let me massage your balls— I mean your face with your blue balls.”
They both cracked instantly.
Luke laughed. “I preferred the first option.”
“Stop,” she said, still laughing.
Just as they’re about to be intimate her phone alarm went off.
“Oh naurr,” she sighed. “I have to go meet my Aussie friends this morning, remember?”
Luke groaned, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder.
“I lost you to Australia.”
She kissed him quick, then went to change clothes.
“Don’t forget dinner tonight. They really are excited to meet you.”
“I won’t miss it for the world.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
And then she was gone.
Luke stayed in the bathroom a second longer.
Quiet again.
He looked at the counter.
Pink globes.
Blue globes.
“…I really hate my blue balls,” he muttered, blaming them for the interrupted moment.
Then he picked them up anyway.
He pressed them to his face.
Cold hit instantly.
Left. right. up.
Left. right. up.
“…okay,” he said under his breath.
A pause.
Then, quieter, like he didn’t want to admit it even to himself—
“…okay, I like my blue balls.”