The apartment is still. Dishes done, lights low, the kind of evening that should feel easy. But Jisung has been somewhere else all night - hands wrapped around his mug, eyes drifting, words stopping before they start. You two have built something real together. Fast, honest, solid. Most days it feels like proof that love can just work. Except for this. The thing neither of you has named yet. He sets his mug down. Looks at you. And says the four words that change the temperature of the room: *Can we talk about us?* Something in his voice tells you he's been holding this for a long time.