Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rose's POV
When the first thing you hear about your husband in two days is that he's some kind of killer, it should make you laugh.
Like an april fool's joke two months too late.
But I didn't feel like laughing. My first instinct was to cry, and maybe my gut knew something my mind wasn't ready to name yet.
Or maybe I just wanted to cry in Evan's arms because I missed Jaeyun, and none of those crazy theories were true.
Getting beaten up just proved you were reckless. And surviving it just meant you could take pain better than most people. It didn't mean Jaeyun had killed people.
The tears welled up like a sudden rush of adrenaline, and I couldn't hold them back. Mascara was streaking down my face. My eyes were stinging.
Through the blur, I could see Evan had stopped puckering his lips. He was just looking at me now, patting his lap.
"Hey, Rose... don't cry. Come here."
A tear froze at the corner of my eye, and another rolled into my mouth, bitter with mascara.
"C'mere," he repeated, a faint smile tugging at his swollen lips.
It sounded less like an invitation and more like a hesitant order. I made you cry, but I'll dry your tears, until you start seeing Jaeyun the way I do.
My body moved before my mind could catch up.
"Ouch—easy." "Fuck." "Just..."
I finally managed to settle into the only position that worked for both of us. He wrapped his free arm around my waist to pull me closer.
"Crocodile tears. You weren't really crying, were you?"
I guess the urge to cry goes away when someone holds me. I start crying, then I just lose interest in it.
Usually it was because Jaeyun would come over and kiss me, or tease me, telling me I looked ugly when I cried. I didn't think about crying when I was chasing him down to hit him.
He wasn't a pretty crier the day he told me his father used to beat him. His nose was red, his eyes were puffy, his lips trembled. I had to share my cocktail with him when he said he needed alcohol to get through it.
At least Evan wasn't about to cry about getting beaten up. He had it coming.
He stuck out the tip of his tongue, his thumb wiping away the last of my tears and mascara.
"You're like a monster high doll," I blurted out, batting my wet lashes at him. See? I cried.
He made this muffled sound somewhere between a "huh" and a "what," looking at me like I'd just said something stupid. Doe eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, crooked little smirk and all.
