"Just like that, I fell for you.."
Seoul's dazzling lights illuminate the tale of Y/n, the sole heiress of Yvora Corps, and Jungkook, the icy heir of Jeon Haute & conglomerates, bound by business contracts. As they navigate a marriage arranged by th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
I woke up to sun rays hitting my face. Unfamiliar surroundings, unfamiliar scents—everything felt strange. A wave of events flashed through my mind as I tried to piece everything together. Shit, I am married. Everything felt so surreal.
I threw off the duvet and stepped onto the cold floor. I was in the guest room. Of course, what did I expect? I wouldn't touch an inch of that jerk's things.
I walked up to the mirror in the room, realizing I hadn't even wiped my makeup off properly. I looked tired, worn out. Never had I felt so pathetic in my life. My life was fucked up, really bad, and it hurt. Everything hurt.
But crying over silly things wasn't going to change anything. I needed to get up and escape this fucking life.
I had been dumped by my ex, and now I was married to a stranger. This is pathetic. My love life is pathetic.
But dwelling on the past wouldn't do me any good. I needed to get up and move forward. Yes, that's right! I needed to focus on myself—
Just as I was about to hold my fist in the air, my phone buzzed. Probably Instagram. I shrugged it off and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.
The cold water on my face brought a refreshing clarity. I stared at my reflection, taking a deep breath. Today was a new day, and I was determined to make the best of it. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and tied my hair up in a messy bun.
-----
I held the blow dryer in my hands, taming my freshly washed hair. Jungkook was a picture of exhaustion, surrounded by a sea of papers. Dark circles underscored his eyes, a testament to the hours he spent sifting through documents. The room was silent except for the soft rustling of pages, a solitary figure lost in the demands of his work.
Probably plotting how to ruin someone's life, I thought wryly. I finished drying my hair and headed to the kitchen to make my morning milk. Coffee was never my thing, not at dawn, not at dusk. It always felt unsettling to me, a sentiment ingrained since childhood, leading to my habitual preference for milk.
As I heated the milk, the kitchen filled with its comforting aroma, a stark contrast to the tension in the other room. I poured the milk into a mug, savoring the warmth that seeped through my fingers. Leaning against the counter, I glanced back towards the living room. Jungkook was still immersed in his papers, oblivious to my presence.
I sighed, taking a sip of my milk. This was my new normal. Despite the circumstances, I needed to find small moments of peace, even if it was just in a warm mug of milk.
Just as I was lost in my thoughts, the doorbell rang, snapping me back to reality. Jungkook glanced at me, perhaps expecting me to rush to answer it like my life depended on it. But no, I wasn't about to cater to his expectations. I looked away, my annoyance clear.
With a resigned sigh, Jungkook stood up and went to open the door. I continued washing my coffee mug, the silence that followed piquing my curiosity. There were no voices, no sounds of a conversation. Just as I was about to turn and see who it was, Jungkook's voice broke the quiet.
"Y/n, I think you've got a guest," he called out.
I turned, curiosity mingling with apprehension. Who could it be?
I placed the mug on the kitchen counter, my mind racing with thoughts. Expecting a surprise visit from my friends, but no.
I turned and froze. My mouth gaped as I saw the person standing in front of Jungkook, holding a pink-wrapped box. It was Heeseung.
My eyes widened, shock and anger coursing through me. How could he? How did he even have the guts to show up here? My brain screamed at him, but my face betrayed nothing. I was numb, defenseless, unable to process the situation.
Jungkook's glance brought me back to reality, his cold demeanor softening slightly. I straightened up and moved to stand beside him, facing my pretty ugly ex.
"Ugh... Heeseung?" I managed to utter, my voice barely more than a whisper. I was speechless, but he wasn't. He flashed a smile at me, and I wished I could punch that pretty face of his. Control, Y/n, control.
"Am I not invited in, Y/n?" Heeseung asked cheekily, glancing at Jungkook. Jungkook looked at me as if seeking permission to let him in. His acting was impressive, showcasing our fake lovey-dovey relationship to the world. Silly me, I nodded in response.
"W-Welcome..." I stuttered, looking down and making way for Heeseung to enter.
We sat on the couch, the box placed on the table. I was nervous, gripping the hem of my shirt and biting my lips, waiting to hear what would come next from his ugly mouth.
We looked at each other, and I realized he hadn't changed a bit since the breakup. But something had changed: the warmth in his eyes was replaced with an eerie look, and the comfort between us had turned into awkwardness.
"How about a tea or coffee, Heeseung?" Jungkook interrupted, probably sensing my uneasiness.
"Oh, Y/n hates both, brother. I'll go for water," Heeseung smirked. Oh, how I badly wanted to stab his face a thousand times until he bled to death. What did his drink preference have to do with me? This jerk wanted to ruin my tiny peace right now?
"Julia, a cold coffee, please," Jungkook called out to the maid. I chuckled, satisfied to see Heeseung's lips curve into a frown. Now that was Jungkook doing his job.
"Proceed, Heeseung," Jungkook raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the box on the table. His sass was something I could appreciate, even if it came from him.
"Ugh... It would be better if... if you could leave us alone right now. We need to talk—" Heeseung began, scratching his nape, but Jungkook's voice sliced through his words.
"She's my wife, this is my house. Both legal and I have the right to sit here..., Heeseung," Jungkook smirked. The satisfaction I felt at his answer was almost overwhelming. Finally, something was right in this twisted situation. I could talk too. Why was I being dumb? Why were my words stuck? Why did Jungkook have to be the only one throwing sass? I could fight back too.
"I would prefer that too, Heeseung," I threw my words at him, my voice firm. He deserved hell, and we ought to give him that.
Heeseung's expression shifted, his confident smirk faltering. He opened the box, revealing a photo album. "I just wanted to return this," he said, his tone losing its edge. "Our memories... I thought you might want it."