I was rushing, already five minutes behind, hair still wet, and my bag barely zipped. The kettle whistled loudly as if mocking me.
"I'll just make one quick cup," I muttered to myself, pouring the hot tea into the mug while trying to shove toast in my mouth.
Bad decision.
My elbow bumped the cup.
The mug tipped.
And in a blink, hot tea spilled down
"Ahhh!!"
I screamed, stumbling back.
It splashed right over my thighs and feet. Burning. Painful. My eyes welled instantly.
I grabbed the edge of the counter, trying not to cry. "Stupid tea"
"Baby?!"
His voice echoed from the bedroom, then loud footsteps
Taehyung skidded into the kitchen, shirt half-buttoned, panic flashing in his eyes.
"What happened?! What"
Then he saw the wet stain down my thigh, my toes curling against the sting.
His whole face froze.
"Did you burn yourself?!"
I nodded, biting my lower lip.
He cursed under his breath, rushed to me, and lifted me in his arms without hesitation.
"Taehyung,I'm fine"
"You're not!" His voice was sharp. "You're shaking. God why were you rushing alone? I told you to wait for me!"
He placed me on the counter gently, grabbing a towel and dabbing the area with cold water. "Does it hurt a lot? Did it hit your skin or just your clothes?"
"Both," I admitted, sniffling. "I was just trying to multitask"
"You're not allowed to multitask. Ever again." He looked at me like I committed a crime. "Tea? Seriously? Who told you to be this reckless?"
"I was just—ugh! I didn't mean to—stop glaring like you're about to arrest me, Professor Kim."
He exhaled hard and knelt down, checking my foot. "It's red... I'm taking you to the doctor. No arguments."
I groaned, covering my face. "This is embarrassing."
"I don't care. You got hurt."
"But I need to attend class"
"You need to shut up and let me spoil you."
I peeked through my fingers. "That's not how spoiling works."
He stood back up and kissed my forehead firmly. "That's how my version works. Now be a good wife and let me take care of you."
"Possessive much?"
"Only when my girl decides to wrestle with boiling tea like she's fireproof."
I grumbled but leaned into him anyway.
So much for a normal morning.
"Ah! Taehyun ...cold!"
I flinched the second the ice touched my thigh.
My hands instinctively grabbed the counter, heat still lingering on my skin from the spilled tea but now replaced by the freezing burn of ice cubes.
"I told you not to move," he murmured, crouched in front of me like this was some medical emergency instead of a mild kitchen mishap.
Completely calm. As if me sitting on the kitchen counter in shorts, flushed face, bare skin exposed wasn't doing anything to him.
Which made it worse.
"You don't have to do this! The doctor's on the way already just let me"
"No."
That one word, firm and final, like a sealed sentence.
I squirmed. "You're embarrassing me…"
"You spilled boiling tea on yourself. Do you want scars?"
"No, but—"
"Then sit still and let me take care of you. Or I'll carry you to the living room like this in front of the doctor."
I gasped. "You wouldn't!"
"Try me."
His eyes flicked up, daring me to keep fighting. The worst part? His voice didn't even rise. Just that calm, dangerous Professor Kim tone he used when students annoyed him except this time, I was the student.
He gently pressed the ice-wrapped towel on the reddening skin along my thigh.
I hissed, biting my lip. "I can do it—"
"Yeah?" He lifted an eyebrow, then dipped his head down, his breath brushing against my skin. "And let you cry alone in the kitchen? No thanks. I like having a wife with smooth, flawless thighs. Not ones scarred because she was too stubborn to ask for help."
I gasped again. "Yah! Don't say that with a straight face!"
He smirked. "I wasn't looking at your face."
"TAEHYUN!"
"Oh now you're screaming." He hummed. "Where was all that energy when you let boiling tea kiss you?"
"You're the worst. Shameless. Incorrigible. Pervert—"
"Keep going, baby." He winked, applying the soothing cream now with the softest strokes. "Your insults feel like compliments when you're this red and flustered."
I grabbed the nearest pillow on the couch and threw it at him.
He dodged.
Smirking.
Still knelt between my knees like I wasn't dying of embarrassment.
"I hate you," I mumbled under my breath.
"You married me."
"By mistake."
"You chose me."
"Under brain damage."
"And you keep choosing me every day," he whispered, eyes softening now as his thumb grazed over the spot with the most redness. "Even when you hate me. That's love, baby."
I fell silent.
My heart thudded.
Then he added with a grin, "...Also, your thighs are distracting. You should wear baggy pants again."
"OH MY GOD LEAVE."
"Too late, I live here."
Knock knock.
I barely had time to fix my expression when the door creaked open.
The doctor stepped in, dressed in his usual neat coat, carrying his medical bag like he was on a mission to save a life.
Instead, he walked into a scene straight out of a romantic drama — or worse, a domestic scandal.
Taehyun was still crouched between my legs, sleeves rolled up, one hand on my thigh, the other gently holding the ice towel…
And me?
Sitting on the kitchen counter, flushed red, hair messy, trying very hard not to look like I'd been caught doing something unholy.
The doctor blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then cleared his throat. "...Am I interrupting something?"
I jerked, trying to slide away from Taehyun. "N-No! I spilled tea! Hot tea! He was just helping"
Taehyun, unfazed, smiled like he owned the place.
Which he did.
"Sit down, doc. I already cooled the burn and applied soothing cream," he said casually, still with his hand on my thigh.
I slapped it away with a warning glare.
The doctor coughed, obviously trying not to laugh. "Well, I can see the burn isn't serious, but the emotional trauma? Might need therapy."
I hid my face.
"I don't need therapy," I muttered.
"You might," Taehyun added, smug as ever, rising to his full height. "Especially if you keep pretending you don't like being spoiled like this."
"Yah!"
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Should I give you two a moment?"
"No!"
"Yes," Taehyun answered at the same time.
I shot him a death glare.
He winked back..
♡Possessive Care
The doctor set down his bag and reached toward my leg, voice calm and professional.
"Let me have a look at the burn site on your thigh and feet, right?"
Before I could even respond
"She's fine."
Taehyun's voice cut in, low and sharp.
The doctor blinked, confused. "I understand, but I still need to check for blisters"
"I said she's fine."
His arm came in front of me protectively, blocking the view like I was made of gold and moonlight.
I stared at him, half in awe, half in horror.
"Taehyun" I whispered.
But he stood firm, dead serious. "You've already seen enough. I cooled it down, cleaned the skin, and applied aloe. Her skin's sensitive. She doesn't need anyone else touching it."
The doctor blinked. "I'm literally a doctor."
"And I'm literally her husband."
There it was — possessive, protective, territorial Professor Kim.
Fully unleashed.
"She's shy," he added with a pointed look. "And she doesn't like strangers touching her. Especially not there."
My soul left my body.
"Taehyun!!"
The doctor rubbed his temple. "Fine. I'll just check the foot, alright? The foot?"
Taehyun crossed his arms. "Only the foot."
Later that evening…
Jimin called, just to "check in."
And of course, the doctor couldn't keep his mouth shut.
"You should've seen him, Jimin. He looked ready to kill me just because I asked to examine her thigh. Like I was some kind of pervert."
On the other end of the line, Jimin howled with laughter.
"You're telling me he played nurse husband and guarded her leg like a knight protecting royal treasure?"
"Exactly!"
"I'm not surprised," Jimin chuckled. "That man won't even let me look at her wristwatch if she's wearing it."
Taehyun, sitting next to me on the couch, huffed.
"I don't like people eyeing what's mine."
"Yah, you make it sound like I'm a necklace!" I muttered.
He turned to me, eyes soft but wicked. "You're far more precious than that."
I nearly choked on my juice.
"Stop flirting in front of me!" Jimin yelled on speaker.
I sat on the edge of the bed, gown pulled up just enough for the old lady to reach the burnt area. My cheeks were already warm from embarrassment.
She came in holding the soothing gel and the prescribed cream the doctor left behind.
"Let me help, dear," she said gently, kneeling slowly.
Before I could even respond, I heard his voice behind me—firm and possessive.
"No need."
I turned my head, startled. "Taehyun?"
He was already walking toward us, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight, and that unreadable look in his eyes.
"Give it to me, halmeoni. I'll do it."
The old lady chuckled softly. "Such a lovesick husband…" She handed him the items without question and left the room with a smirk that made me want to vanish into thin air.
I swallowed hard.
He sat down in front of me on the carpet, between my knees. Calm. Focused.
Like we were talking about the weather.
"Taehyun, I... I can do it"
"You'll spill half the bottle again," he murmured without looking at me, opening the gel. "Sit still."
I tensed the moment his fingers touched my skin.
His hand, cool from the bottle, slid carefully along the burned area of my thigh soft, delicate, but firm.
I shivered. Not from pain.
From him.
We'd never been this close.
Not like this.
Not this… exposed.
His fingers moved with almost too much gentleness, as if afraid I'd break. His eyes stayed low, not meeting mine.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.
"No," I whispered. "It's just… cold."
He nodded once.
I dared to glance down and instantly regretted it.
His lashes were long, casting shadows on his cheek. His lips were slightly parted, breath soft as he concentrated.
I clenched the bedsheet in my fists.
Why am I reacting like this?
He's just applying medicine.
But the way he touched me… like I was fragile.
Like this wasn't just skin.
Like this was his.
When he finally looked up, his eyes locked with mine and something shifted.
Heat.
Unspoken words.
Unspoken wants.
I instantly looked away, heart pounding.
"Thank you," I muttered.
His smirk was subtle. Dangerous.
"You should get hurt more often."
"YAH!!!" I smacked his arm with the pillow.
"Not seriously," he laughed, catching my wrist, eyes twinkling. "Just enough to keep you this shy."
"Professor Kim, you are shameless"
"And you're mine," he said softly, pressing his lips to my knee before standing up and walking away like he didn't just set my soul on fire.