Graveyard of Heaven

11. Hazel

I mentally sighed, my thoughts tinged with a touch of resignation. "The arranged marriage situation may be out of my hands," I mused quietly to myself. "But at least I have some autonomy over the rest of it..."

I couldn't help but ponder the prospect of someone, somewhere, who could potentially match my freak ?

I glanced around the luxurious bridal shop, eyes scanning the beautiful and extravagant dresses surrounding me . One of the store assistants, Julia, stood by my side, holding up a stunning lace-embroidered dress. I studied the dress, admiring its craftsmanship, but deep down I couldn't shake off a pang of unease.

"This dress is indeed lovely,"  I examined the gown, "but it doesn't really align with my personal style. It's too grand, too extravagant."

I thought for a moment, considering what dress would truly represent her style. "I'm looking for something elegant," I said definitively, "something that screams 'Hazel Westwood.' A dress that reflects my unique personality yet remains sophisticated and understated. Perhaps something with clean lines, a touch of modern sophistication, and a hint of vintage charm."

Julia listened intently, taking in my thoughts as she carefully placed the ornate dress back on the rack. "I see," she replied, already moving on to another section of the boutique. "Understated elegance, got it. How do you feel about simpler fabrics? Silk, perhaps? Or even velvet for an extra touch of timeless elegance?"

Julia, the assistant, led to another section of the boutique, filled with simpler yet elegant dresses made from luxurious fabrics such as silk and velvet, reflecting my desire for understated sophistication. I smiled appreciatively, expressing my satisfaction with the selection. "These dresses are much more in line with my taste," feeling a renewed excitement about finding the perfect wedding dress.

Julia led Hazel to the fitting room, holding the door open for her. "Here you go," she said with an encouraging smile. "Take your time, try on as many dresses as you like, and don't hesitate to ask for my opinion if you need a second take."

As I tried on each dress, I looked meticulously at myself in the mirror, carefully analyzing the fit, the fabric, and the overall appearance. With every dress, I started to feel more confident in my decision, inching closer to finding "the one" that truly screamed Hazel Westwood.

I stepped out of the dressing room "You look stunning , Miss Westwood" said a deep voice, a raw voice somewhat dark , I looked into his eyes. His dark suit and confident demeanor contrasted sharply with the airy ambiance of the bridal shop.

"Quite a surprise Mr. Rosevelt" I tried not to sound amazed by his sudden appearance sitting in front of me. Eiden's eyes scanned me, taking in the sight of me in my wedding gown. God please I beg you to not let him assume I am doing this for him or us , I am just doing it for me . I screamed internally.

I hesitated for a brief moment, attempting to maintain composure. There was an undeniable tension between us, an undercurrent of uncertainty and unease. "Well, as you can see, I'm still trying to decide on the dress, but I assume you have a preference, don't you?"

Eiden chuckled lightly, taking a measured step closer . He carefully observed my expression before responding, "Of course I have a preference," he confessed, his voice holding a hint of coldness . "But ultimately, it's your choice. After all, you're the one who will be wearing it on our wedding day."

The tension in the air as Eiden stood there, his gaze fixed upon me. There was no hint of affection or longing in his eyes, only the familiar coolness that came with their antagonistic relationship. My eyes met his, reflecting a mixture of wariness and determination. He's like the kind of guy I read in my books.