CINDERELLA'S CONTRACT | pjm √

twenty six

"Tragedy."

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That night when he held me close, he asked me a question.

"Why don't we go far away, far enough from all these people?"

By 'people' , he implied the dangerous reporters that seem to swarm us wherever we go. It seemed never-ending, and our lives were in constant danger because of them.

With a smile, I nodded to his request.

"What are you reading?" It was my turn to ask. He turns to me with the book in his hand, raising a brow.

"The Great Gatsby. I don't understand— the book described how Gatsby wanted to repeat his past, and how it ruined him when he did. The moral of the story was not to chase the green light. The green light where he imagined a perfect dream with his lover, in a perfect house, and a perfect country. I believe what Gatsby did was right, and for me....the past can be repeated, don't you think?" He elaborated, eyes filling with a passionate glint.

I didn't know why, but my heart begun to feel heavy at his statement. However, I forced a smile, agreeing with his idealistic idea.

So that night we slept, next to each other under the dim lights. His warmth as he held me, his breath against my skin, it was all so surreal. I had sudden flashbacks of how we first met, and met again, how it was all under the midsummer moonlight.

And then I glanced outside the window.

And there it was— the moon. It was almost full, like the day before the full moon will occur. I stared at its elegant simplicity, sounds of cellos and pianos reverberating back in my mind. City lights, crazy days, and the way he would play with me like a child....It was all things I loved.

Jimin stirs a little in his sleep, eyebrows furrowed together. It snaps me out of trance, and my heart begins to feel full again. Dread that I felt for the past few days diminished in an instant, now replaced with a warm, aching feeling.

The next morning when I woke up, the other side of the bed was empty. I sat up groggily under the sheets, ruffling my hair as I did so.

"Had a good night's sleep?"

I turn to see a shirtless Jimin, with a towel around his neck. His damp hair framed his bare face, looking godly handsome as he was.

"I did. In a long time." I smiled, replying.

He slowly approaches me, eyes laiden with an electric coldness. Hands around me, he suddenly places his lips on mine, morphing it passionately against mine. The kiss felt bittersweet, a feeling I haven't experienced in a while.

"Morning kiss." He says as he walks away.

By the time I had finished washing up, shirtless Jimin was sitting on the edge of the bed, seemingly waiting for me.

"Yona, let's pack for our road trip. I have a villa at a remote place, we can spend a few months there to let news die down." He explained, leaning back onto the bed.

"Now?" I asked, surprised.

"Now." He nodded.

Still half awake, I trudged to the end of the room, where my old suitcase was. It contained everything I had when I first moved into the mansion.