— You're going to work hard like everyone else. And if you can't handle it, no one's going to carry you.
Salin blinked slowly. That wasn't the voice of his loving husband. That was the mafia boss.
— I served four years in the Special Forces. I've been through worse than yelling on a training field.
— You'll have to prove it. With blood, if necessary.
— And if I do... can I?
Jun-ho stepped closer. His gaze was a blade.
— If you pass, I'll have no more excuses. But until then, you're not my fiancé. You're just another soldier. And I'm your superior.
Salin clenched his hands but didn't back down.
— Then just don't treat me like I'm made of glass.
— That's going to be hard. — Jun-ho looked away. His lips twitched. Almost a smile.
Salin grabbed his coat roughly. The kiss that followed wasn't for comfort — it was a reminder: I won't break.
— Salin, I...
