The plane touched down in Incheon, and a soft hum of engines and chatter filled the air. Park Ji-Hoon and Choi Eun-Seo stepped out, the cool Korean air brushing their faces. Paris already felt like a dream, a beautiful memory tucked safely in their hearts.
Eun-Seo clutched her small suitcase, her mind drifting to the last moments in Paris — the hand-holding by the Seine, the kiss under the stars, the promises whispered quietly between them. She smiled faintly, her heart still racing.
Ji-Hoon walked beside her, casual as always, but his eyes kept darting to her face. Every time she looked up at him, her cheeks warmed, and he couldn't help but smile.
"Welcome back," he said softly, leaning closer so only she could hear. "No more trains, no more Eiffel Tower, just… us."
Eun-Seo laughed quietly, shaking her head. "I can't believe we're back. It feels unreal."
Ji-Hoon took her hand, holding it as naturally as if it had always belonged to him. "Unreal? Maybe. But better than unreal — this is real, Eun-Seo. You and me."
She felt her chest tighten. The past few weeks had brought them so close, yet reality in Korea felt… different. Busy streets, familiar routines, expectations from family and friends — would their Paris magic survive?
---
Reunion with Home
When they arrived at Ji-Hoon's apartment, Eun-Seo noticed how different it felt. Gone were the romantic lights of Paris; instead, there were familiar walls, a small living room, and an aroma of freshly brewed coffee. It was… normal. Domestic. Comfortable.
Ji-Hoon turned to her, eyes sparkling. "Home."
She smiled, still holding his hand. "Home… but it feels nicer with you here."
He grinned, pulling her close. "Good. Then stay like this forever."
Eun-Seo laughed softly. "Forever sounds… scary."
"Not scary," he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Exciting."
The rest of the evening was filled with small domestic joys — unpacking luggage together, Ji-Hoon making instant ramen in the tiny kitchen, Eun-Seo teasing him for using too much seasoning. Every small moment reminded her that love didn't need grand gestures — it thrived in simplicity, shared smiles, and quiet touches.
---
A Walk in Familiar Streets
The next day, they decided to take a walk near the Han River. Ji-Hoon held her hand, fingers interlaced tightly, as they strolled past the familiar cityscape. Eun-Seo leaned into him, feeling his warmth seep through, comforting and steady.
"Ji-Hoon," she said softly, "do you think… we can keep this Paris feeling alive here?"
He squeezed her hand. "We don't need Paris to feel magic. We have it right here."
Her lips curved in a small smile, but her eyes reflected a hint of doubt. "Even when people stare? Even when life isn't… perfect?"
He stopped walking and turned to face her fully. "Even then. I don't care about eyes, opinions, or expectations. All I care about… is you."
Eun-Seo felt heat rise in her cheeks, heart skipping. "Ji-Hoon…" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Before she could think further, he leaned down and kissed her softly — slow, tender, full of reassurance. The kiss was different from Paris — no excitement of new love, no secret thrill of a foreign city. This kiss was grounded, real, and permanent.
Eun-Seo wrapped her arms around him, holding him like she could never let go.
When they finally separated, Ji-Hoon rested his forehead against hers. "We'll figure out everything, okay? Life, work, family… together."
Her eyes shone with tears, and she nodded. "Together."
---
Subtle Jealousy and Realizations
Later that evening, Eun-Seo received a text from her best friend, asking to meet for coffee. She hesitated — Paris had made her open, brave, and yet… returning to Korea made her acutely aware of how everyone knew Ji-Hoon, how familiar he was to his world, and how small her place seemed at times.
Ji-Hoon noticed her distraction immediately. "Thinking about someone else?" he teased lightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Eun-Seo blushed, trying to look casual. "No! Just… work stuff."
He leaned closer, voice low and teasing. "You know, jealousy is natural. I'd probably be a little jealous too if someone else had your attention."
Eun-Seo's eyes widened. "Ji-Hoon!"
He laughed softly. "I'm kidding… mostly. But seriously, you're mine, Eun-Seo. I just want you to feel safe, okay?"
Her heart swelled. In Paris, she had feared losing him to distance or past connections. In Korea, she feared losing him to the world he belonged to. And yet, his words, his touch, his presence — they reassured her more than anything else.
---
A Quiet Evening
That night, they stayed in, sharing dinner and laughter. Eun-Seo noticed how easily she could be herself — no pretenses, no worries, just them. She realized then that love wasn't about grand adventures or distant cities; it was about choosing each other every day, even in mundane routines.
Ji-Hoon placed a hand over hers. "Eun-Seo, I love you. I don't need Paris or stars to tell me that. Just you… here."
Her eyes glistened, heart full. "I love you too, Ji-Hoon."
He leaned in and kissed her once more, gentle yet passionate — a promise that no matter where life took them, they would face it together.
The night grew quiet, and the city hummed softly outside. But inside, their hearts were loud, certain, and intertwined — a love that had traveled across oceans and settled firmly in Korea.