What if, when you missed every chance to confess your feelings to him. After college, you suddenly lost contact and started your career, locking your love in your heart for years.
Then, one day, fate brought you both back together, meeting him as y...
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F E W H O U R S A G O
"Merde!" Marie spat, frustrated. (Shit!)
"Pourquoi faut-il toujours que je me retrouve dans ces situations de merde?" she grumbled. (Why do I always end up in these shitty situations?)
"Espèces de connards!" she hissed. (Bastards!)
Dylan watched her, unsure whether to be amused or worried by her fierce determination. She caught his eye and rolled hers, becoming irritated more looking at him.
"Et toi, arrête de me regarder comme ça, imbécile," she snapped at him. (And you, stop looking at me like that, idiot.)
Dylan could only shrug, sensing her anger but unable to grasp the words.
"Pourquoi as-tu suivi, imbécile?" She snapped, exasperated. (Why did you follow, you fool?)
He watched her, unsure whether to defend himself or stay silent. She caught his eye and glared, her anger undiminished.
"Tu es vraiment un abruti," she continued, her words sharp as daggers. (You're really an idiot)
She huffed, her annoyance visible. Her curses were filled with anger and disbelief. She refused to be a victim and held onto her fury like a shield.
He, catching only the tone, tried a small, apologetic smile, hoping to diffuse her ire. But she wasn't done yet.
"Si on s'en sort, tu ferais mieux de courir vite," she warned, her voice a low growl. (If we get out of this, you better run fast.)
Finally he says something when it was becoming too much to not get her words, "Korean or English please..." He awkwardly smiled sensing she's talking to him.
The van rattled violently as it veered sharply over a pothole, jolting both its unwilling passengers.
She scowled, testing the cuffs binding her only one wrist. Across from her, Dylan, fidgeting with his own restraints, stole glances her way - she was striking, angry and defiant as she was scolding him in mumbling for the past hour in french.
"Really? You thought following a bunch of goons was a good idea?" She said, annoyed and spared him a glance, one eyebrow raised. "Did you not think that maybe they were criminals?"
He sighed in relief hearing familiar language. "They were acting weird!" Dylan protested, though a sheepish grin tugged at his lips. "I wasn't just going to let them take a beautiful woman without checking it out."
"Great idea," she replied, rolling her eyes. " How old are you, twenty?"
"I'm turning twenty-six next month. I'm old enough to be here, dealing with this... whatever this is." He said indignantly.
