Morning sunlight streams diagonally through the curtains of the small house. The morning, which should be peaceful, failed to start quietly today as well.

In the kitchen, the sound of running water and clattering dishes echoed continuously. On the dining table, uncleaned breakfast remains, half-eaten bread, and an open jam jar were all mixed together. On the sofa, a pile of laundry from yesterday sat unfinished, and a single sock that the white Pomeranian had dropped while carrying it around lay lonely on the floor.

In the middle of it all, he was moving busily again today. His fluffy black hair was sticking out in all directions, unkempt after waking up, and a cute apron was tied tightly over his oversized T-shirt.

The white Pomeranian was stuck right to his leg. Lee Rion habitually stroked the dog's head with one hand while continuing the dishes. However, the dog seemed to have no intention of leaving and kept following his feet.

While working hard on the dishes, Lee Rion lost his footing and stepped slightly on the tip of the dog's tail, a sign that another commotion was about to break out in the house. This was how every day went in this home.

It was far from a perfectly organized honeymoon home. Instead, their belongings were mixed together everywhere, playful notes were stuck on the fridge, and there was always at least one leftover snack they had shared on the table. And at the center of all those scenes, he was always there. As if this house had belonged to the two of them for a very long time.