𝐌𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 || 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅

E I G H T

Ch⁸ ᴄɪɢʀᴀᴛᴇ

The silence field of dandelion is filled with the laughter of two kids running across. The tall kid is catching the kid in the blue dress. She giggles seeing the opposite-gender kid trying to chase her. The catcher is now annoyed and frustrated, he speeds up and finally catches the runner.

"I won, mochi!"
"Argh!! Fine! Go and hide I will start after the count of 10"

The boy giggles at her annoyance and runs in the opposite direction after the girl starts counting.

"9, 10! I'm coming!!"

She turns around and walks around to find the boy. At first, she tries finding him at the nearest places but fails. She quietly giggles thinking that he is hiding under the plastic but her smile turns upside down when she doesn't find any evidence of his.

It's been a quiet while but she isn't able to find him anywhere. Tears stream down her eyes while she calls out his name. She sat on the ground while quietly crying, she wiped her continued falling tears and suddenly someone tapped her shoulders from behind. She turns her head with a relieved smile thinking it's him but her brows furrowed and her eyes widen.

She quickly gets up and slowly steps closer to the same figure she saw almost half an hour ago is now covered with bruises and blood is flowing down from his head and he gives a smile.

"I'm going y/n. Please take care till I come back. I promise I will come back and take you out of this hell"
"P-please d-don't!!"
_______________________

"NO!!"

She screams and gets up with a jerk. The sun has already gone. The area is as silent as a library. Only her heavy breathing is being the spotlight in the pin-drop silent terrace she is. She didn't realize when she fell asleep while blankly staring at the sky and numerous times cursing her husband. She tangled the hairs coming in from her vision and smashed her hand on the forehead.

Y/n: why? This is not even real... Stop it, please

She gets up from the sofa, and guards around the bonfire, in search of her comfort. Cigarette.
_______________________

Burning the exposed tip of the cigarette with her customized bracelet, she placed the tail between her lips. As soon as her fingertips touch her lips, a flashback of all her previous incidents is projected in front of her eyes.

Y/n: crazy

She mumbled while blowing out the toxic gas from her mouth. Could she have ever imagined that the golden boy she messed with is now her forced mafia husband? The question arises. Should she be sad about the fact that the man who held her at gunpoint is her husband or should she be happy about the fact that he was the first to take the initiative towards her previous relationship?

Even though he married her for his own mysterious reason, somewhere she is also benefited. She looked around and her eyes stuck with the mirror.

Such a beast he is. The h!ck€y$ are still so visible. h!ck€y$? Once again another incident was projected. The knife incident. Her dangerous flirting. Her heartbeat runs a marathon while replaying that particular scene where, from her hand, he is wounded.

She groaned in frustration and tossed the half-smoked cigarette. It was not her fault. It was he who deliberately injured himself. But still that fear from 14 years ago has arisen. Those arguments, his screams. If he didn't take those steps 14 years ago then she might not be suffering from this trauma.

Her space-out session breaks when her ears catch the doorbell sound. She throws herself on the bed, being the least bother about her husband's arrival. It was not too late when he walked in with his tuxedo in his hand.