Ransomed Fiancée (Michaeng)

Chapter 39: Darling, Honey, Sweetheart Part 1

Mina

"Darling."

"Honey."

"Sweetheart."

I could feel a hand gently nudging my shoulder, and when I opened my eyes, I found Chaeyoung leaning on the edge of the couch, gazing down at me with a peculiar smile on her face. She had been wearing that smile quite often in the past few days, which left me feeling uneasy. It reminded me of the all-too-familiar cycle: after every abusive incident, there came this honeyed phase of reconciliation. I wasn't entirely sure if "honeymoon" was the right term for it, considering there was nothing between us. But that's precisely how it seemed after the "news scandal".

Perhaps it was due to her injury, but her behavior had taken an even more dramatic turn this time, almost childlike in nature. I couldn't quite get used to it. I wondered if it was a result of her injury or if the mounting stress from the Mini Project had taken its toll. Whatever the reason, it was strange.

She began trailing me around wherever I went, whether it was cooking or cleaning. Even though she tried to be discreet, it was evident that she was peeking at me from corners, always wearing that unsettling, suspicious smile. Because of her injury, she insisted that I sleep in her bed, and after much persuasion, we compromised on me sleeping on her couch. I couldn't bring myself to sleep in her bed with her.

In the mornings, I'd either wake up to the sound of her camera clicking as she took pictures of me sleeping—-which was rather creepy, or I'd find her staring at me with that same small smile on her face. That smile was unsettling.

I sat up, my gaze drawn to the window where the soft morning sunlight filtered into the bedroom, announcing the arrival of spring in few more days. I returned my focus to Chaeyoung, who reclined with her head resting on the edge of the couch, her cheeks snugly pressed against the upholstery as she sat on the wooden floor. She gazed at me with drowsy eyes and lazy smile, "I'm hungry," she murmured, a hint of complaint in her voice.

I glanced at the clock on the wall – 10 a.m.? That seemed rather late. Over the past few days, sharing the same bedroom, I had slept better than I had in a long time. How long had she been awake, waiting for me? I pulled back the duvet and offered an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. How are you feeling?" I asked, my gaze shifting to the cast on her hand.

She stared at me for a moment, then sighed heavily, "Weak," she complained again, "I think I'm going to di—" She didn't finish her sentence when I immediately covered her mouth, preventing her from uttering that word. I glared at her, and her eyes ceased their playful smile. She held my wrist and kissed the back of my hand, "Hungry," she complained yet again. I smiled and nodded. "Can I have porridge for breakfast?" Chaeyoung added, her tone noticeably softer.

I looked at her, surprised by the change in her speaking mannerism. Lately, she was no longer issuing orders with an authoritative tone, saying things like "Cook me that," or "I want to eat that." Instead, she was using more polite language, actually asking for things.

I stood up, "Okay, let's wash your face first." Because her right hand was in a cast, she needed assistance with certain things, and I had been diligently helping her. It didn't bother me in the slightest. Taking care of someone wasn't a foreign concept to me; I had been taking care of Sana for years. What concerned me was the slow progress of Chaeyoung's injury recovery. She must have been in pain and discomfort, and I was constantly on edge, worried about her. Adding to that, the pressure and stress of the Mini Project preparation were probably weighing on her as well.