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"So what do you want us to do with it?" Y/N asked.
"Nothing. Let people believe what they want to believe without giving them anything. Tease the media, make the public go crazy... But don't date for real of course." a little smirk fl...
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3rd person ᵇʳⁱᵉᶠ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵒᵐᵉˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ, ᵃᵇᵘˢⁱᵛᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ
flashback, 2002;
"Y/N, change into your pajamas!"
"Yes, granny!"
The six-year-old girl quickly gathered her toys scattered around the living room, just like she's always reminded to, and rushed inside her bedroom, smiling at her grandmother once she passed by her. Deep dimples and the big, heartwarming grin lacking the first and the second premolar tooth on both sides, put a smile on the older woman's face as well.
As the doors closed behind the little one with a light click, the woman looked around her humble abode leisurely, her eyes lingering on the living room's couch for longer. Not on the furniture though, rather who's hunched up on it.
Her daughter laid under a thick, red blanket, eyes glued to the TV in front of her, yet she stayed completely uninterested in whatever's image flashing on it. The woman sighed seeing her child in such state. It's been like that ever since she came to her house few weeks ago, late at night, with Y/N curled up in her arms, crying hard, but still trying to fight her violent sobs in order to not wake up the peacefully resting little one. The only things the elderly woman was able to understand between the suppressed whines and sniffles, was a simple sentence uttered through clenched teeth — "He left us."
It's been a long time since she first noticed that her daughter deserved better than a young, emotionless workaholic. Though, you couldn't blame her for not realizing it earlier. He had a really great start when he was first introduced to her and her still alive at that time husband, leaving both of the parents astonished with how good of an impression that boy could make. With neat presence, perfectly pressed, elegant blue blazer and the impressive gift of the gab, he even seem a little too perfect for a young man. Not to mention the manners that seemed almost improper in their excessive politeness and respectfulness. (A ninety degree bow on the entrance really didn't have to last a total of twenty seconds. It got her bewildered so much that the woman started to wonder if her husband didn't exclaimed in amusement "Damn, straighten up already, sport! You'll get a spinal disease sooner than me!" the boy maybe would've stayed in that position for much longer.)
And the woman remembered the comments she'd made with her husband, when her daughter's boyfriend had already gone through the front door after the dinner — "Very handsome and polite. Must've come from a terribly strict household, I pity the boy."
She never got the chance to see if she was right about her daughter in-laws and neither had her husband, passing away three years after that event. But she got to see her son-in-law turn from a little angel bowing to her respectfully in the doorstep, into a disguised devil, constantly jeopardizing her daughter's well being.
