Slowly, Kook moved. He didn't speak. He simply gathered Tae's limp, trembling body into his arms. She didn't resist, burying her face against his sweat-slicked chest. Naked, skin still burning, he pulled her tight against him. Her back pressed flush to his chest, his arms wrapping possessively around her waist. Her damp hair tickled his chin.

He could feel the frantic beat of her heart slowly calming against his palm resting on her stomach. Tears, hot and silent, began soaking into the pillow beneath Tae's cheek. Kook felt the wetness against his arm. He tightened his hold, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "Tae..." His voice was rough, wrecked. "I'm sorry. God, Tae... I'm so sorry."

The apology cracked something open inside her. A sob tore loose, shaking her whole body. "You broke me," she whispered, the words muffled against the pillow. "You broke us. You threw us away." Her hand found his where it rested on her belly, her fingers interlacing with his tightly, holding on as if she might drown otherwise.

"For her. For... this cold place." Her voice hitched. "But Ggukie..." She swallowed hard. "He looks at me... with your eyes, Kook. Your exact eyes. And he smiles... and he grabs my finger... and he feels like..." She trailed off, unable to articulate the fierce, protective warmth the baby ignited in her chest. "He feels like everything I lost... but alive. Real."

Kook buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her floral soap mixed with sweat and sex and tears. He saw it then, with painful clarity – the raw tenderness she showed his son, the fierce devotion that went beyond duty. He saw the way Ggukie settled instantly in her arms, the pure adoration in the baby's eyes mirroring Tae's own fierce protectiveness.

It wasn't just a game. It wasn't just revenge. She loved Taegguk. Deeply. "He knows," Kook murmured against her skin, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "He knows you love him. He feels safe with you. Truly safe." His voice thickened. "I see it. Every damn day, I see it." He gently turned her in his arms until she faced him. Moonlight caught the tear tracks on her cheeks, the vulnerability replacing the fury and performance. He cupped her face, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

"Tae..." His gaze searched hers, haunted. "I never stopped..." He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away. She didn't. Their lips met – not like before, not with teeth and fury and possession.

This kiss was soft, hesitant, a tentative exploration of shared pain and impossible longing. It tasted of salt tears and regret. It deepened slowly, a quiet ache replacing the earlier frenzy. They kissed until exhaustion pulled them under, limbs tangled, Tae curled securely against his chest, his arms locked around her.

As sleep claimed her, Tae felt a deep, quiet satisfaction settle over her exhaustion. His arms around her, his apology echoing, his recognition of her love for his son, soon to be their son. She drifted off, knowing, deep in her bones, that he was slipping back. Piece by piece. Back to her. Where he belonged.