Chapter 39

                                    

                                          
LEENA'S POV💍
The Paris hotel room felt like a pressure cooker as we stumbled through the door, dragging our bags and exhaustion with us. The ornate room, with its lavish decor and opulent furniture, seemed to mock the state of our frazzled nerves. I dropped my suitcase with a thud and threw a glance at my dearest husband, who was already throwing his suit onto a chair with more force than necessary.
"Perfect," he muttered, not bothering to hide his frustration. why is he suddenly so frustrated?
I rolled my eyes, trying to shake off the travel-induced fog. "what's so perfect?"
He turned sharply, eyes flashing with a familiar fire. "that you made me walk so long"
"did i tell you to walk? you're impossible"
"shut up elysium, i just can't let you walk on the street of paris all alone just after reaching"
"if you did that by your choice then why complaining about it?"
"i can complain. only if you weren't too stubborn and start walking alone then i didn't have to walk as well"
"Maybe because you're impossible to please," I shot back, not missing a beat. "You think everything should be perfect and everyone will obey you, but guess what? It's not always the way you want it to be.."
He gritted his teeth, clearly irritated but not backing down. "Maybe if you didn't always have to turn everything into a battleground, it wouldn't be so bad." 
I took a step closer, matching his intensity. "And maybe if you didn't have to turn every minor inconvenience into a major crisis, we could actually enjoy ourselves in this so called honeymoon."
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You know, for someone who claims to be so practical, you sure have a knack for making things worse. look at me, i am already tired because of you"
"And you," I said, stepping even closer until we were almost toe-to-toe, "have a talent for turning every little annoyance into a drama. so dramatic Min Yoongi."
There was a charged silence between us, thick with the electricity of our argument. We stood there, faces inches apart, our breaths mingling in the narrow space. It was in these moments-when our tempers flared and our words cut like daggers-that I felt the fierce, raw edge of our connection. We might clash and bicker, but there was an undeniable intimacy in the way we engaged, as if our arguments were just another form of communication.
His eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the frustration mingling with something else-a burning desire, an intensity that went beyond mere irritation. "You know," he said, voice dropping to a gravelly murmur, "it's hard to ignore how much you drive me crazy."
I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips. "Yeah? Well, it's equally hard to ignore how much I love it."
His gaze softened just a fraction, though the fire still simmered beneath the surface. "Love or not, you're pushing every button I've got."
I leaned in, our faces just a breath apart, feeling the heat from his body. "And you're doing the same to me. It's like we're two magnets just waiting to collide."
He reached out, gripping my shoulders with a surprising intensity, his thumb brushing against my neck. "Maybe that's the problem. We're too much alike. We're just... explosive."
"And maybe that's what makes this whole mess worth it," I replied, looking up at him with a mix of defiance and affection. "We might be fire and gasoline, but at least we're not boring."