{DROPPED}An Arranged Marriage//(GIYUSANE)

Chapter 23|| 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏

My phone buzzed with a string of unanswered calls. I'd tried reaching Giyuu for hours, but he wouldn't pick up. My gut screamed at me that we needed to talk, to clear the air, to fix the mess I'd made.

How could I clear my feelings if I kept denying them, avoiding them?

He hated me, I was sure of it.

I hailed a taxi and gave the driver Giyuu's address. As we pulled up, I noticed the gate was open.

The front door was also open. What the hell?

I stepped inside, the air thick with a strange, unfamiliar scent. The floor was damp, as if water had been spilled. My eyes landed on Giyuu, sprawled on the couch, shivering.

My breath hitched. He was burning up, his skin flushed, his eyes glazed over with a feverish haze.

"You're still fucking wet!" I barked, a wave of panic washing over me.

I raced to his room, pulling out fresh clothes from his dresser.

I managed to undress him, my heart pounding in my chest. I pulled on a fresh shirt and pants, careful not to touch him too much. I just wanted to make him comfortable, to get the damn fever down.

Hours passed, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of his movements. Finally, Giyuu stirred on the bed,

"Sanemi..." his voice was raspy, barely audible.

"Sanemi... you're really here," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. A single tear slipped down his cheek, tracing a path across his flushed skin. He grasped my hand, his fingers tightening around mine, as if clinging to a lifeline.

"I thought you hated me... I thought you never wanted to see me again... I thought... I thought... we would never fix this. I was scared you really hated me now," he choked out, his body wracked with sobs.

The words pierced me, like shards of ice. My chest constricted, a dull ache blooming in my chest. Fuck, what was this feeling? This confusing mix of guilt, concern, and something else, something I couldn't quite name.

"Yeah, I'm not angry," I said, my voice gruff, "Also sorry. It's okay..." I hesitated, then reached up to gently pat his hair, hesitantly stroking it.

"Get well," I said, a genuine smile breaking through my gruff exterior. "And we're going to talk... I'm going to cook for you."

I pulled away from the bed, stepping out of the room. What to make? Maybe soup? Yeah, that sounded good. Except, I didn't really know how to cook.

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How to make a simple chicken noodle soup. I watched, intently, trying to memorize every step, every ingredient, every precise measure.

I followed the instructions, chopping vegetables, simmering broth, carefully adding noodles. The kitchen smelled surprisingly good, a comforting aroma that filled the air.

After what felt like hours, the soup was done. I ladled a bowlful for Giyuu, leaving my own untouched.

Giyuu took a cautious sip, his expression changing from curiosity to alarm. His eyes narrowed, his gaze locked on me.

"Sanemi," he said, his voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Confusion furrowed my brow. "What? Why?"

I took a hesitant sip of the soup myself, the taste hitting my tongue like a tidal wave of salt. It was... incredibly salty. My face flushed red.

"I, uh, I think I added a little too much salt..." I mumbled, shame burning in my cheeks.

"A little?" Giyuu spluttered, clutching his stomach.

We ended up ordering takeout, the salt-bomb soup abandoned in its bowl. but the incident had me chuckling.

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I stood at the kitchen sink, scrubbing the last of the plates, trying to ignore the knot of tension in my gut. I'd finished cleaning up the takeout containers, washed the last of the dishes, trying to distract myself.

"Sanemi," Giyuu called, his voice a soft murmur from behind me.

"Why?" I replied, my voice tight, as I placed the plate back in the cabinet.

"Why did you come back?" he asked, his words hesitant, a tremor in his voice. I froze, the question hanging in the air between us.

"Maybe because I pity you," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm.

Giyuu let out a shaky sigh. "Sanemi, you know I really like you... but I didn't mean the thing last night. I thought you really hated me after that..." His voice was barely a whisper, laced with uncertainty.

"Yeah, you just told me that," I muttered, feeling a surge of frustration.

"So why did you come back?" he asked softly, a genuine confusion in his voice.

"I don't want to get my hopes up... so please... answer me," he pleaded.

I was lost, adrift in a sea of confusion. I wanted to be sure, to understand my feelings, but they were a tangled mess.

"I don't know," I said, my voice flat and emotionless. It was the truth. I didn't know what I felt, not yet.

"I'm also confused," I admitted, a little more honestly. "It's your fault... what did you even do to me?" The question hung heavily in the air.

Silence descended, thick and heavy, until I felt Giyuu's arms snake around my waist. The world seemed to shrink, the only sound the pounding of my heart in my ears.

Heat spread through me, a wave of intense warmth that left me breathless. My heart felt as if it would burst from my chest.

I couldn't explain it. I didn't understand.

Or maybe it was because I kept denying it? Maybe I really did like Giyuu. Maybe I had fallen for him. Maybe this was love, this overwhelming sensation that had me reeling.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the turmoil within me.

He didn't answer, his gaze fixed on me, an unreadable expression on his face. "Sanemi," he said, his voice low and husky, "what do you feel?"

My face burned, a wave of heat flooding my cheeks. "I... I don't know," I stammered, my voice catching in my throat.

I heard him chuckle, a soft, rumbling sound that sent shivers down my spine. He let go of me, his hand lingering for a moment on my arm before finally withdrawing.

"Sanemi," he repeated, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of vulnerability. "Do you feel the same for me?" His eyes, usually so calm and stoic, held a flicker of hope, a vulnerability that made my breath catch in my throat.

He was looking down at me, his gaze intense, searching. I felt a knot of fear tighten in my stomach. "Just answer yes or no," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If no, I'll forget you ever existed. The marriage, the whole year... it will be like it never happened. I'll avoid you, just like you've been avoiding me. Just answer me, Sanemi."

His words were a harsh blow, a stark reminder of the uncertainty hanging between us. I didn't know how I felt. I was terrified of my own answer, afraid of the consequences, afraid of hurting him.

"Give me time," I said, my voice trembling. "Because I'm confused too. I'm so fucking confused."

I walked past him, his gaze burning into my back. "I'll give you until tomorrow," he said, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. But the smile held no hope, only a deep, aching sadness that mirrored my own.

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