Chapter 8: (Aaira's pov)
17 July, 2025.
The old man's face twisted with anger, his eyes blazing with fury that seemed to seethe from deep within. His hands clenched into tight fists. Beside him, I too simmered with an internal fire. He asked me.
Old man: Then who are you?
I took a deep sigh,
Aaira: I'm Aaira, Jeon Jungkook's wife.
The old man's expression hardened, and before I could react, he threw something at me. I was lucky to dodge it just in time. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked at him in shock.
Old man: You are Y/n, our daughter!
He insisted, What kind of madness was this? These people were clearly delusional, or worse. Were they some sort of freaks? The old woman entered the room, her demeanor unsettling. She wore a twisted smile as she approached me.
Old woman: Come join me at the table, dear.
She said in a tone that sent chills down my spine. I hesitated, every instinct screaming at me to run, but I knew I had to play along if I wanted to survive.
Reluctantly, I followed her to the table, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. What the hell was wrong with these people? And more importantly, how was I going to get out of here and back to Jungkook?
As we sat at the table, the old woman placed a plate of food in front of me, the twisted smile never leaving her face.
Old woman: Eat up, Y/n.
She said sweetly, but her eyes held a strange, almost sinister glint. I pushed the food around with my fork, my appetite nonexistent.
Aaira: I'm not hungry.
I muttered, trying to avoid her gaze.
Old woman: Nonsense.
She replied, her voice hardening.
Old woman: You need your strength.
I glanced at the old man, who was watching me intently, as if waiting for me to slip up. I took a small bite, my stomach churning. The food tasted off, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was safe to eat.
As I forced myself to swallow, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in a nightmare, one that I couldn't wake up from. I had to find a way out of this twisted reality, back to Jungkook and my real life. But for now, I had to play their game, no matter how dangerous it was. As I was eating, the old woman suddenly said.
Old woman: Y/n, wash the dishes after eating.
I looked up at her, incredulous. Why would I wash the dishes? I had never done such chores before, not even in my own palace. Was I their maid or something?
Aaira: I... I don't think I can.
I stammered, trying to find a polite way to refuse. The old man's gaze turned icy.
Old man: Y/n, you will do as you're told.
He said sharply, his voice broke no argument. I glanced around the room, searching for an escape route. There had to be a way out of this, a way back to Jungkook and my son. But for now, it seemed I was trapped in this strange, unsettling house with these people who insisted I was someone I was not. Reluctantly, I pushed my chair back and stood up.
Aaira: I'm not doing any dishes.
I declared firmly, meeting the old woman's gaze head-on. Her eyes narrowed, and she banged her hand on the table, making me jump.
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In Another's Skin
Fanfiction"Each night, I wished for you to find me, like a prince rescuing his princess from evils. I wished for you to be my hero, even as the pages of my life turned against me. Each night, I cast my wishes into the dark, praying you'd come and turn my sto...
