『Proud untamed puppy x gentle, mature you』
Younger puppy-style top x gentle, mature you Lu Yu first met you on a rainy night in late autumn. The boy was soaked through, his damp bangs clinging to his cheeks, defiance and aggression barely hidden in his eyes. His school jacket hung loosely over his shoulders, and a fading bruise marked the corner of his mouth. He was leaning against the wall by the alley entrance, kicking at pebbles in boredom, like a little wolfdog backed into a corner with nowhere to vent. At the time, you had just gotten off work. Passing by with a black umbrella in hand, you noticed the boy standing alone in the rain, radiating a keep-your-distance air, yet unable to hide the loneliness in his eyes. You paused mid-step, softened by pity, and walked over slowly, tilting your umbrella toward him. Your voice was as gentle as the breeze after rain: "It's raining hard. Why don't you take shelter for a bit?" You are twenty-seven and run a small bookstore. Mild-mannered and reserved by nature, you're always courteous and polite to others—like a piece of jade polished smooth and translucent by time, carrying a quiet, reassuring warmth. Lu Yu looked up, sizing up the gentle-eyed man before him. You wore a clean shirt, carried no trace of hostility, and your concern was sincere yet restrained—unlike other people, who either sneered at him or pitied him. The boy curled his lip, unappreciative, but he didn't dodge the umbrella either. He grunted sulkily: "Mind your own business." His mouth said one thing, but his body was honest. Lu Yu had grown up in an unstable environment. After his parents divorced, each started a new family, leaving him as the child nobody wanted. He was used to masking himself with defiance and arrogance, all spikes and thorns, terrified of anyone seeing through to the fragility underneath. But your gentleness was something he'd never felt before—not glaring, not calculated, like a warm sun slowly melting hard ice. From then on, Lu Yu kept showing up at your bookstore door, deliberately or not. Sometimes it was after school—he'd lean against the doorframe with his backpack on, saying nothing, just watching you quietly organize the shelves and wipe down the desks. Sometimes it was in the evening—he'd stroll in carrying a bottle of soda he just bought, plop it down on the counter, and say awkwardly: "Hey, this is for you. Don't overthink it. I just bought too many." You never refused him and never pried into his past. You would simply hand him a cup of warm water when he came, quietly prepare little snacks when he stayed up studying, and when he showed up bruised from a fight, you'd gently ask him to sit down and patiently treat his wounds. Bit by bit, Lu Yu's thorns softened under your warmth. When you were too busy to manage, he'd clumsily help carry books and tidy the shelves, his usual sloppiness gone, focused like you wouldn't believe. When someone deliberately gave you a hard time, he'd rush to your side in an instant, shielding you with fierce eyes and an unmistakably protective energy. Late at night, he'd secretly send you messages, rambling about nothing, yet every line carried his whole heart. He was an untamed little wolfdog, meek only for you. If you glanced at someone else a moment too long, he'd get silently jealous, grabbing your wrist and sulking like a spoiled pup. When you were sick, he'd bustle around in a fluster, clumsily taking care of you, his eyes full of undisguised worry. He'd look seriously into your eyes and say, word by word: "From now on, I'll protect you." You'd always smile and ruffle his hair, the warmth of your fingertips making Lu Yu's heart race. You've seen the boy at his most miserable, seen him at his most rebellious, and you've also seen through his defiant shell to the heart beneath—one starving for love and desperately insecure. You're willing to use all your gentleness to embrace this thorn-covered little wolfdog, to smooth over the pain of his past, and give him a safe place to call home. One late night, after the bookstore had closed, Lu Yu grabbed you before you could leave. The tips of his ears were red, but his gaze was steady. He clutched your wrist tightly, his voice tense yet utterly earnest: "I like you. It's not a whim—I've liked you for a very, very long time." He was afraid you'd reject him, afraid this feeling would be scorned, so nervous his fingertips trembled. The defiance in his eyes had faded, leaving only apprehension and raw sincerity. Looking at the boy before you—nervous and expectant—your heart softened. You reached out and gently smoothed the furrow between his brows, your tender eyes brimming with a smile, and answered quietly: "I know, Lu Yu. I feel the same." That one sentence—"I feel the same"—lit up the boy's eyes. He couldn't hold back any longer. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the hollow of your neck like a little beast that had finally found its home, clinging to the warmth of your embrace. All his former wildness dissolved into nothing but tenderness and devotion. Lu Yu is a fierce hound running wild, and you are his only destination and his warm jade. He crashed into your world sharp-edged and unyielding, only to be fully tamed by your gentleness. You met his rebellion with patience and love, and were moved by the boy's unreserved sincerity. In the days that followed, the boy remained just as defiant, but he was gentle only with you. You stayed just as mild, but your eyes held only him. They are each other's salvation, the perfect fit of contrasting temperaments—fierce hound and warm jade, meant to hold each other, year after year.
The world is never short of lovers—what's rare is someone who opens their heart to you and plans tomorrow with you. Lucky me, my wife is exactly that ⌯'ㅅ'⌯