Fated From The Start

3

Her-

My steps into the manor are careful and tentative, not wanting any extra attention drawn to me. Even with my precautions, I still feel his eyes on me with every small step I take. I don't know who this guy is, but he definitely knows who I am, and it's honestly freaking me out. 

Is he an accountant?

Maybe a lawyer? Did Mother and Father get into some trouble?

As we all surpass the foyer to enter the living room, we quickly all seat ourselves on the couches. There's me, alone on the sofa, and Mother and Father on the bigger couch sat together. Just as I go to crane my neck and see where the mysterious man has disappeared off too, I feel a shift and new weight next to me on the sofa.

Oh.

Due to the sofa being much smaller than a typical couch, the sizing forces us to sit almost pressed up against each other. I consider apologizing to him, thinking he could be uncomfortable, but I realize that he sat here willingly. He crowded my space, knowing how tight this seating would be. Willingly. It's like with every passing second, he gets more creepy around me. Are Mother and Father noticing this behavior too? Is it just in my head? 

"Are you listening? Hello?" Mother's shrewd voice hightails me back into reality, and I'm suddenly rendered frozen, unaware of any previous conversation that's taken place. Shit. What did I just miss? Before I can even try to cover myself and explain I was thinking of who this man is, Mother interrupts me.

"As I was saying," she continues, "Father and I have arranged this for many years. Before you bombard us with questions and complaints, because I know you'll be whining in a second, no, this is not negotiable. These arrangements are set in stone, and there's no altering the plans." Mother finishes by rolling her eyes, probably taking note of the confusion blatantly scattered across my face. Warning signals blare inside my head, alerting me that we've just entered dangerous talking territory. 

What arrangement is she talking about? Fuck. I really should've payed more attention when she started talking. She's making it seem like this is an arranged marriage or something. I chuckle to myself, thinking about marrying the brute sitting next to me. There's no way that could even be possible, he seems at least five years older than me, plus I highly doubt Mother and Father would approve of our being together. He's clean-shaven, yes, and he seems decently polished, but he's got too much attitude for Mother's liking.

"The wedding is in a month. Tonight is the official proposal. Your dress is currently being steamed, but your gown should be ready just short of two weeks from now. You'll have to pick out your veil of course, but I figured you'd want to wear my wedding dress for your own. We'll have to get it tailored to your size since you're bigger than me, but, adjustments can be made." 

I hear Mother speak, I hear the sour and shocking and surprising words coming out of her mouth, and I understand what she's saying, I just can't process them. 

A laugh shoots straight up my chest and pushes past my lips, and I'm quick to slap my hand over my mouth to try and keep it in, but it's too late. Everyone around us just heard my cackle of disbelief. The maids and butlers busying themselves by tidying up the main room and going back and forth between all rooms pause, staring at me. I clear my throat and clasp my hands together, trying my best to regain composure. As I sneak a glance to the man on my right, I notice him also staring at me with a smile. Except, I'm smiling because I'm confused and uncomfortable, and he's smiling because he's weird. And creepy. Creepy and weird and not attractive because creepy and weird men are not attractive.

"Okay, so what you're telling me is that, I'll be marrying him," I motion to the man next to me, "In a month? And you're just telling me now? And these plans have been confirmed for a long time? And I'm wearing your dress? And this is an engagement party? What food are we even serving-" Mother cuts me off abruptly, her sharp tone slicing my words and my heart in half. She scolds me for being so improper and asking so many questions at once, and I honestly feel like I'm in the twilight zone.

 How is she upset with me for being curious and confused after springing this information on me? Was I expected to just be okay with my life being decided for me, behind my back and without my knowledge?

I take a deep breath in. 

One, two, three, in.

Four, five, six, out.

Before I start yelling, I'm going to take a minute to myself to calm down. I don't want the rest of tonight to be miserable, and I don't want to make a fool out of myself in front of this man-whoever he is. Apparently, he's my fiancé. Who was going to tell me?

I look around the room, excusing myself politely by waving my hand before I lift myself off of the sofa. I'm so overwhelmed, this is all way too much. I wish I had convinced myself not to even appear today. Not that it would have spared me from this fate, but maybe it would have at least postponed it until next week.

"Wait," I hear him call out after me. "Where are you going?" Before I can make my grand escape, my so called fiancé stops me with a tug on my wrist.

The touch is gentle, like he doesn't even realize his hands are on me, but I'm all too aware of his fingertips pressing into my skin. I inform him that I just need a breath of fresh air to let everything sink in, and it's like his senses finally catch up with him. He releases me like I've burned him, quickly scanning the area he just touched as if in disbelief he just had his hand there. Since I'm finally released, I almost instantly begin to walk away, hoping to walk away from his sight so he can't follow me. I don't even know the guy's name yet, but I'm already wanting nothing to do with him.

In actuality, it's not him that I'm not a fan of. Sure, he's got his weird and creepy and not attractive whatsoever at all moments, but other than that he seems decently tolerable. Plus, I guess I wouldn't mind staring into those eyes all day. And he does tower over me quite a bit, but his hair would really have to be my personal favorite when it comes to features. The raven curls stick out adamantly, especially compared to my short hazelnut hair. Something about the way his eyebrows crease when he's concerned and his eyes light up when he's happy, he's just infectious to be around. I haven't heard it yet, but I bet he's got the most contagious laughter too.

I shouldn't be thinking about this.

I don't even know him.

Clearly the not-knowing each other part is only one sided, however that doesn't relieve me of any stress. If anything, it further stresses me, knowing that he's been aware of these arrangements for much longer than I have. I have no clue how long he's known about me. What does he know about my life? Have we met before? Has he been keeping tabs on me?

A knock on the door rouses me from my thoughts, and my head shoots up to see who's at the door. I had walked into the bathroom in a haze, not even caring where I was headed as long as it was somewhere secluded. 

When I hear a maid's voice tell me that it's time to start dressing for the banquet, or rather, congratulation ceremony, I sigh to myself before I trudge out of the room and into the hallway. I try my best not to let my disappointment show on my face, I don't want the woman to think that she's done something wrong to me and feel discouraged. Mother and Father aren't exactly lenient with staff members, and I don't want to give this woman the impression that I'm like them.

As she asks me if I'm alright, I simply nod and motion for her to lead me to where I'll be getting ready. I assume that Mother has arranged a stylist and makeup artist to help me get ready, among arranging other things that she also couldn't be bothered to inform me of. I unsteadily step away from the bathroom, hoping to myself that tonight will go well. At least if it doesn't, I'll have a makeshift husband in about a month to make up for it.