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2 | ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ===========
➴| | 𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅 | |
What would a married woman feel on her first day after the wedding? Excitement? Happiness? But here, she was feeling disgusted by herself, by her husband. Ayra’s gaze drifted to the man beside her, Ishaan, her new husband. The person who is the only reason why her life is a living hell. His smile seemed more like a snarl, his eyes gleaming with a possessiveness that made her skin crawl.
As she lay in bed, Ayra couldn’t shake off the memories of the previous night's events. Ishaan’s rough hands, his whiskey-soaked breath, and the way he claimed her like a trophy. She felt like a prisoner, trapped in a marriage that was more like a nightmare. Moreover, she was devastated, devastated by his behavior.
Ayra’s thoughts swirled with despair, her mind racing for an escape. She felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of her new reality. The memories of Ishaan’s harassment, his cruel words, and his twisted desires haunted her.
As she got out of bed, Ayra caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked broken, her eyes sunken, her skin pale. She felt like she was losing herself, disappearing into the darkness of her marriage.
A question arises in her mind, was she really like this since ever? The answer was, No. She was a cheerful, bubbly and a loving girl. Always everyone’s favourite. But now? She did not even loved her own self! How could she expect people to love her when she herself didn’t?
Ayra’s gaze dropped, unable to bear the reflection staring back at her. She felt like a stranger in her own skin, a puppet controlled by Ishaan’s twisted desires. She mechanically began her morning routine, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of her stomach.
As she descended the stairs, the sound of Ishaan’s laughter echoed from the living room. Ayra’s heart sank, her feet heavy with reluctance. She didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to pretend that everything was fine. When nothing wasn't!
But she had to. For now, she had to wear the mask of a happy bride, even if it was suffocating her. Even if it was cutting her threads of life, she had to.
Ayra took a deep breath and stepped into the living room, forcing a smile onto her lips. Ishaan’s eyes locked onto hers, his gaze possessive and cold. She felt a shiver run down her spine as he raised his glass in a toast.
‘‘To my beautiful wife,’’ he said, his voice dripping with malice. ‘‘I wish our marriage be filled with love and happiness. Right, Ayra?’’
Ayra’s smile faltered, her heart racing with fear. She knew what he meant by passion. She knew what he wanted from her. She knew his intentions way too well.
Her eyes dropped, her gaze fixed on the floor as she tried to process the sinister undertones of Ishaan’s toast. She felt trapped, caught in a web of his twisted desires. The room seemed to close in around her, the air thickening with tension.
Ishaan’s laughter echoed again, this time louder, more menacing. Ayra’s skin crawled as he beckoned her to sit beside him. She hesitated, her mind racing for an escape.
‘‘Ayra, my love,’’ Ishaan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘‘Come, let's celebrate our day. Let’s make this a day to remember. Shall we?’’
Her legs trembled as she moved towards him, her heart heavy with foreboding. She felt like she was walking into a nightmare, with no escape.
As she sat beside Ishaan, his hand clamped onto her thigh, his fingers digging into her skin like talons. She bit back a cry of pain, her eyes scanning the room for a lifeline.
But there was none. None to help the poor soul trapped by a monster.
Ishaan’s grip tightened, his fingers bruising her skin. Ayra’s eyes welled up with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
‘‘Smile, Ayra,’’ Ishaan whispered, his breath hot against her ear. ‘‘Smile for our guests. Show them how happy you are to be my wife. Hmm?’’
Ayra’s lips curled into a forced smile, her eyes flashing with defiance. She hated him, hated the way he controlled her, hated the way he made her feel. But still, she could not do anything. Her own parents sold her to the beast, who would she trust on?
Suddenly, everyone’s attention drifting to the door bell ringing. As the main door opens up, a tall figure was shown entering the house. The man had an aura that made Ayra stare at him, deeply. He was charming as well.
The tuxedo he wore, was covering him like a second skin. If stares could kill anyone, the guests would have buried deep under the ground just by his stare. No emotions on his face as a feminine figure came to his view. Their eyes communicated with each other but none said anything.
“Oh, my son. Welcome back home, dear. I really missed you so much. It’s almost been 5 years since you last visited us. You’ve changed a lot.” They broke the eye contact as Jeon Misa, Ayra’s Mother-in-law hugged her eldest son.
“I missed you too, mom.” His deep, husky voice made her shiver. She was too perplexed by his looks and now his voice too. As she was about to stand and go to her room, her Mother-in-law suddenly mentioned her. “Jungkook, meet your younger Sister-In-Law, Ayra.” Ayra suddenly looked at the floor when Jungkook looked at her, ever so deeply. Like he was scanning her with so much focus.
“Nice to meet you, Sister-In-Law.” His words sounded like he was mocking her but with respect. “N-nice to meet you too, Mr. Jeon.” She stuttered as he made her nervous with his voice. “It really is. But no need for the formalities. We are a family now.” He let out a sweet yet dark chuckle.
“And stop staring at the floor. Look into my eyes when you talk to me.” He let out dangerously. He wasn't the sweetheart now, but sounded like a devil instead. Listening his order, she slowly looked at his blue orbs with her brown ones. There was a moment of silence here as they again talked with their eyes. One pair with darkness while the other with its bright aura.
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Do you think Jungkook was genuinely sweet to her? Or there were his dark intentions behind? Was she really feels same about him?
