𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔❜𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 ( 𝑻𝒂𝒆𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌)

𝑨 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑴𝒆

"Hubby... guess what?

We did it again!

We're going to be parents... again!

And not just one baby this time.

Twins.

Can you imagine? Jiho as a hyung to two tiny munchkins? He's going to lose his little mind.

He already keeps patting my belly like he's checking if someone is knocking back.

I still can't believe it. I keep rereading the report like an idiot, smiling at every line.

I don't know why, but it feels... magical this time. Bigger. Brighter. Like life is giving us another chance to get something right.

I know it's early, but I'm excited. Really, really excited.

I want to do everything properly, every check-up, every note, every little kick. I want to remember it all so I can show you later and laugh about how we didn't see this coming.

Fingers crossed this pregnancy goes smoothly.

No scares... no worries... just good news, week after week.

And... I wanted you to know first.

Before anyone else.

Because it's ours.

Because they're ours.

And because somehow, no matter what, you're still the first person I think of.

Tae's eyes scanned the first lines again.

"Congratulations, hubby! We're gonna be parents again! Do you know we're gonna have twins? Jiho will be hyung for two. I didn't expect it, but here we go... Whatever, they're ours. I hope this time the pregnancy goes well, fingers crossed!"

The words were bright, playful, almost bouncing off the page. Tae's chest... shifted.

A slow, almost reluctant smile crept across his face. Not because of Kook. Not because of the words themselves.

But because he felt it,

the warmth, the cheerfulness, the pride,

the way a wife would speak to someone he loves,

the way a mother would dream about his children.

He could hear it in the rhythm of the sentences, in the little exclamations, the tiny jokes, the excitement spilling across the page.

Tae's hand pressed lightly to the journal. "...Twins," he muttered, the word catching in his throat.

And for the first time in a long while, he let himself feel it:

The fatherly pride, the quiet, fierce happiness that came from knowing he would hold them, watch them grow, and protect them with every part of himself.