The Christmas morning sun in Gapyeong peeked through snow-dusted curtains, casting soft golden beams across the bedspread.
Lexie stirred, stretching into the quiet warmth beside her. A low breath brushed her temple—a quiet, familiar rhythm. Not a dream.
Mark.
His arm lay draped across her waist, one leg tangled with hers. The only sound in the room was his even breathing, paired with the soft whisper of wind nudging the windowpanes. For a moment, she stayed still. No alarms. No emails. No pending vocal drafts.
Just her.
Just him.
Just this.
Then—the door creaked open.
Small feet padded across the floor.
Lexie didn't move, but she heard it.
A very real, very dramatic gasp.
"...Mom?"
She opened her eyes just in time to see Ethan in his dinosaur pajama set, staring from the foot of the bed like he'd walked in on a soap opera.
"Ethan," she whispered.
He stepped closer, eyes wide. His voice dropped to a loud whisper.
"Is he sleeping here now?! Is he my daddy now?! My friends said their mom and dad sleep side-by-side!"
Lexie's face flushed.
Beside her, Mark stirred, his arm tightening around her reflexively before he blinked awake, adjusting to the sight of a pajama-clad, scandalized five-year-old.
"Ethan?" he croaked, voice scratchy with sleep.
"You slept in my mom's bed."
Mark offered a sheepish smile. "Hi, buddy."
Lexie shot up, yanking the blanket up with her. "It's not what you think—"
Too late. Ethan spun around and bolted out the door, yelling:
"TITOOOOOOO! TITO LEXTER! TITO XANDER! TITO ALEXIS! MARK SAMCHON SLEPT IN MOM'S BED!!"
Lexie groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Oh God."
Mark chuckled beside her. "Well. Guess the cat's out."
* * *
Downstairs, the scent of garlic rice and eggs filled the air.
Alexis was at the stove, Lexter at the coffee pot, and Xander was half-awake, mumbling about why no one thought to hire a vacation barista. Matthew and their father were already at the table, sipping leftover miso soup like it was tradition.
Ethan burst in.
"Why are you running?" Lexter asked, raising a brow.
Ethan skidded to a stop, breathless. "I may have a Daddy now."
A beat of stunned silence.
Matthew choked on his coffee. "Wait, what?!"
"Mark Samchon was in Mama's bed," Ethan announced with absolute conviction.
Now everyone turned. Chairs shifted. Eyebrows raised.
"What do you mean in—" Lexter began, only to be cut off by Alexis's raised hand.
"Asleep?" Alexis clarified, voice cautious.
Ethan blinked. "Yeah. He was hugging her."
"Oh my god," Xander whispered, sitting up straight. "I know they were talking again—but they've gone this far already."
"Just when??!" Alexis echoed, still stunned. "When did they start talking?"
"I thought they were at least, you know, civil again," Lexter added.
"I thought we weren't supposed to ask," Matthew muttered.
"Well, this just got interesting," their dad said, pouring another bowl of soup with no hint of judgment, just bemused curiosity.
Just as Lexter opened his mouth to suggest knocking with breakfast, footsteps creaked on the stairs.
Lexie appeared, hair slightly tousled, face caught between calm and please-let-the-floor-swallow-me. She paused mid-step at the sight of six pairs of eyes locked on her.
"...Good morning?" she offered weakly.
Mark followed behind, dressed in a plain hoodie and sweatpants, looking rumpled but soft around the edges. He gave a sleepy wave.
Silence. Three full seconds.
Then—
"You guys slept in the same bed?" Xander blurted.
Lexie groaned. "Oh my God."
"It's Christmas!" Ethan shouted, trying to redirect. "I guess Santa heard my wish last night!"
Matthew grinned. "Merry Christmas, Mark. Glad you survived the traffic."
"I... made it eventually," Mark muttered.
Lexter narrowed his eyes. "So... this is... are you two—?"
"Let her sit down first," Alexis cut in, ever the voice of reason.
Mark brushed past gently, pulling out a chair for Lexie. His hand brushed her shoulder as he sat beside her. There was no announcement—but the closeness said everything.
Ethan snuggled into Lexie's side, arms circling her waist.
"I waited, Mommy," he whispered. "Then I saw Mark samchon beside you. Last night you were waiting, so... I guess Santa heard my wish."
"I wished to Santa for a Daddy. And my classmate said mommies and daddies sleep beside each other..." Ethan glanced at Mark with wide, searching eyes. "So—is he gonna be my Daddy?"
A beat passed.
Lexie opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her throat tightened.
Before she could answer, Mark stood up to carry the little boy up.
"Hey, buddy," he said gently, smiling. "You know what? I didn't just come here because of your wish. I came because I've been wishing too."
Ethan blinked up at him.
"I don't know everything about being a dad yet," Mark continued, voice low but steady, "but I'd really like to try. If you'll let me."
"You mean... you wanna be my Daddy?" Ethan whispered, like it was a secret too big to say out loud.
Mark nodded. "Yeah. I really do."
Ethan looked over at Lexie, unsure.
She didn't speak—couldn't—but her eyes were glassy, her fingers trembling slightly where they gripped the hem of her sleeve.
Then, as if something inside him clicked, Ethan flung his arms around Mark's neck and held tight.
Mark exhaled, caught off guard but smiling through it, a soft laugh escaping as he hugged the boy close. "Whoa—okay, okay. That's a yes?"
Ethan nodded into his shoulder.
Mark tightened the hug just a little. "Best Christmas gift ever."
When Ethan finally pulled back, he grinned. "Do I still have to call you Mark Samchon?"
Mark brushed his hair gently. "You can call me whatever feels right. But... I'd be proud if you wanted to call me Dad."
Lexie pressed her lips together, eyes stinging, heart twisting in too many directions.
She wasn't ready to say everything. Not yet. But Ethan's joy—that unfiltered, innocent joy—was enough to make her stay in that moment. Silent, but here.
Xander raised his coffee mug. "Well, I guess welcome to the family. Officially."
"No one's mad," Lexter added. "Just... curious."
Lexie exhaled slowly. "We didn't mean to keep anything secret. We just weren't ready to say anything until we figured things out."
Alexis leaned forward. "And now?"
Mark looked at Lexie.
She looked at him.
"We're figuring it out," she said, resting her hand over his.
And maybe, for now, that was enough.
* * *
After breakfast, the living room turned into a whirlwind of discarded wrappers, wide-eyed gasps, and Ethan squealing over his long-awaited remote control toy car.
The fireplace flickered while the Christmas playlist hummed in the background, and the rest of the morning melted into a haze of hot cocoa, friendly teasing, and card games sprawled across the floor.
At some point, Lexie sat back beside Mark, watching Ethan show off his drawing to his grandparents and uncles. It was a picture of their family—him, Lexie, and now Mark.
He had drawn them all holding hands.
"He already sees it," Mark said beside her, his voice low.
Lexie glanced sideways. "Sees what?"
Mark nodded toward the sketch. "What I'm still learning how to hold onto."
Lexie didn't say anything, but her hand reached over and wrapped around his.
They didn't need to explain it all.
Not yet.
Not today.
For now, the silence was warm. And the promise between them—no longer a maybe, no longer a question—sat steady in the morning light.
~~ 끝 ~~