Are you really going to ruin your life because you can't say no?
I sip my chamomile tea, scenting thick cinnamon in the air of the cafe I sat in. The sky was done crying, though, its petrichor lingered in the air. Wet, sloppy grounds of London as I stare at it. The mansion, that held secret history no one knew. I smile.
The bells of the cafe jiggled again, damp footmarks as I look away from the gorgeous architecture. The lady who ran the cafe would scold the customers if they did that. But surprisingly I hear her voice quietening. I placed my cup down and bucked up, a handsome, tall, man stared at me. And then his phone.
He wore a round, black hat, big boots and oh—my favourite, a long brown overcoat. He smelled warm. His eyes travelled from my brown hair to my face—he wavered a bit— and to my clothes, I folded my legs confidently. My sheer black stockings through my boots and skirt, somehow made me feel promising. "Am I seeing, Ms.y/n right now?"
He had a typical English accent as I nodded, he invited himself in front of me, removed his hat and sat comfortably. He stared at my cup, "chamomile tea." I said as he sighed. "I am Jungkook." I hum, "mmh-mmh, I know. You're my fiancé." He cleared his throat. "I'd like to have a conversation with you about the marriage," he says as I slide my card towards him.
"Before that, I'd like to see what you have studied." I say, "Sure. Philosophy in Oxford." "Great. I have got a few courses as well. Literature, classics, art history and ideology. Not fortunate as you to learn in Oxford, but where I studied all this was a pretty good university as well." He frowned, "where have you?"
I smile, "London." He nods, slightly raising his brows and taking a sip of my chamomile tea, "it's pretty good as well—oh shit. I'm sorry!" He apologises for drinking my tea, "I just have a habit of drinking a lot of tea." I grin, "It's okay, you can take it. It's my fourth of the day anyway." He clears his throat and takes another sip, embarrassed I assume.
Jungkook was an extremely free guy, a guy with no boundaries or formal knowledge. He was a fun type, who'd go to amusement parks and live there for decades just because it brings him joy. And sitting in a cafe with me, talking about his marriage is like tying him in shackles, testing his limits and pure torment. He was hella pressured.
"I want a favour." He asks as I nod. "I want you to say no to this marriage."
I smile, "why?"
"I have a girlfriend." Expected, typical.
"I don't have a boyfriend, nor I'm planning to be around one, so you say no. Why would I?"I say and order another tea. He seems to think something for a moment. My tea arrived as I started making it. He was lying. Jungkook has never opened a book of philosophy or even literature in his life. He was in China, under a martial artist. Learning to fight.
No, he wasn't a prince or a king or even close to being a royal. He wasn't special either, he just had good fortune and ancestors. Generally, I would overlook such type of a fellow. Would never even be close to smelling the air he subsisted, but he had that mansion. And as far as I know and judge, he does not know about the secrets and treasures buried beneath the bed he sleeps on every day.
"I will not treat you as a wife." I wanted to laugh, but no, I cannot dump up this last minute. So I smile, "it's okay." He exhaled, again, shackles. "Are you in love with me?" He asked, finally losing his undisturbed moment by moment. I smile in a crooked way, "What do you think?" He slightly frowns, "what?"
Never in my life I've seen a philosophy student ask so many questions, Jesus Christ. "I am not in love with you. But I won't mind it." I lied too, I can't particularly blame him for everything. He scoffs, gazing into my eyes. "Are you wearing lenses?" Shit. "Yes." He grins, ever so slightly, for the first time.
"Do you wear glasses?" "Yes." He sighed, "Anyway, are you really going to ruin your life just because you don't want to lose your pride? Let me tell you, if I die, and I've no heir, all my wealth will go to donation and not you." He says, sipping tea. I shrug, "I could ask you the same question. Are you really going to ruin your life just because you can't say no? And I do not care about wealth." I did.
I sip my tea too. He exhaled, almost in temper. "Alright then, you must get ready for torture. I'd like to see how a philosopher survives as a bride in the Jeon family." He was challenging me, "I don't want to be a perfect bride." I say, nonchalantly sipping my tea. Ooh, was it good.
"You have to be, Willing or not." He was loud and stern. I lower my brows, "All alright, we'll see about that." I say and look at him, smiling as he places fiver on the table and dashes out. "Scaredy-cat," I murmured. Jungkook was just a scaredy cat. He hated his family, and he hated me even more at the moment. Although this hate game continues, he certainly does not dare to deny his mother's wishes and father's temper.
I smiled and stared at his empty cup and stood up, wearing his hat, paying and leaving the cafe. I stop and stare at the mansion, "mine." I whisper in my heart as I shift his Hat on me before I continue walking on the moistened streets.
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The secret history
FanfictionWhen I opened my eyes, blurry tears fell as I closed them again, feeling extremely nauseous. I turned and found the first soft thing and shoved my head deeper, snuggling in the pillow. Taking my hands around the mysterious soft pillow, I smiled and...