Aria and Rian, once childhood friends who now can barely tolerate each other, are forced into marriage for the sake of their families.
Their relationship is anything but smooth, as both struggle with the weight of their troubled pasts and refuse to...
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Rian
I rise from bed shortly after Aria leaves for work, a sigh of relief escaping my lips as I hear the door click shut behind her. The quiet that settles in the apartment is almost palpable, a stark contrast to the tension that always seems to hang in the air when she's around. It's difficult for me to start the day on a positive note with her presence casting such a shadow. Although I'm not generally one for omens or superstitions, but with Aria in life now, I've started to consider their significance. Her presence feels like a dark cloud hovering over what should be a fresh start.
I stand by my decision not to play the role of a doting husband. Sharing a room with the person responsible for turning both our lives upside down is difficult enough. The idea of pretending to be in love with her is simply unthinkable.
After some procrastination, I finally muster the energy to start my day. I gather my clothes-a navy blue dress shirt and tan-colored pants-and head for a quick shower. The hot water helps shake off the remnants of sleep and the lingering frustration. Emerging from the bathroom feeling slightly more human, I head into the kitchen hoping for a decent cup of coffee to kickstart the morning. To my surprise, I find that it's already been prepared.
A brief flash of annoyance crosses my mind; it's just like Aria to interfere, even in the small details. I pour myself a cup of black coffee, adding a touch of sugar as I always do. With my coffee in hand, I reach for a bowl and milk from the fridge. I'm distracted by work emails as I pour the milk over the Weet-Bix and stir it.
As I take my first bite, I'm immediately hit by a disturbing taste. The Weet-Bix is unnaturally thick and slick, clumping together in a way that's far from the usual. The milk has an unusual richness, making the whole thing feel excessively creamy. There's a bizarre sweetness that overpowers the taste of the cereal, and a strange tanginess that's both off-putting and confusing. The texture is uncomfortably smooth and oily.
I spit the cereal back into the bowl, my face twisted in disgust. Wanting to cleanse my palate, I gulp down my coffee, but end up spilling a few drops on the counter. As the bitter liquid hits my tongue, I notice something strange-the coffee has an odd, unnerving blue tint. At first, I think it's just a trick of the lighting. I take another sip, and the sickeningly sweet taste confirms my fears. This is not the coffee I expected.
Is that blue coffee?
My mind races as I rush to the bathroom mirror, hoping for some clarity. The sight that greets me is both horrifying and infuriating-my teeth and lips are stained a vivid blue. The realization hits me like a slap in the face.
This was Aria's petty attempt at revenge.
The combination of the revolting cereal and the discolored coffee is clearly her doing, a spiteful twist on what was meant to be a simple breakfast. Anger bubbles up inside me, fueled by the frustration of having my morning ruined by her childish antics.
