Stranded| m.yg ✔

TWENTY-FIVE| Elope

"Ow!" You complained, the dress around your waist pinching you in areas you didn't like and you over-exaggerating upon the feeling. You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed after the woman helping you dress glanced at you and barely even acknowledged your cry.

You were dressed in silky whites that had been perfectly altered to fit your body. You had been extremely picky about everything regarding the wedding, often times giving the workers a hard time. You knew it wasn't kind of you, but you couldn't help it. You thought maybe it would be a way to stall for time. That was all you wanted at this point, just a little more time. As long as there was time, there was hope.

"Hmm, um, are you sure this is the right length?" You spoke up suddenly while looking down, inspecting your own attire in fake distaste. The woman fixing your veil winced and placed two fingers against her temple in exhausted irritation.

"Miss, we've altered your dress five times now. Your wedding is in a few hours. I assure you it's fine."

You felt your heart sink and then skip in fear under her words. Shoulders sagging, you kept peering at your reflection in attempts to find any flaw.

There weren't any more aspects of your appearance to critique. You looked perfect, just like you had always imagined yourself looking on your wedding day.

You cursed your good looks in an effort to perk any ounce of joy from yourself, but even your attempt at vanity couldn't make your painted lips form a smile. 

You sighed once more as the woman helping you stepped away with pride littered in her tired eyes. She had done well, that was for sure. You wished the veil would cover your face and make you completely invisible, but no such luck. It was fastened to the back of your head and trailed behind you and your dress in an elegant display of cloth. 

Fiddling your thumbs, you wearily eyed the other workers in the room who's job was clearly to not just help you get ready, but to watch you as well. You narrowed your eyes, wondering if they were situated in order to halt any attempts at unsupervised escape. It seemed as if Junho had been extra cautious as far as making sure you didn't act upon any "pre-wedding jitters," and you had barely been left alone since Yoongi's departure three days prior.

Your nervous habit of biting your lower lip was halted upon the remembrance that bright lipstick covered your mouth. Instead you shuffled in anxiety under the itchy feeling of the dress and your face that was smothered in make up.

It wasn't exactly that you hated Junho. He was pretty alright, and you had to admit all the compliments were nice. Talking sweetly had never been an area Yoongi was good at, so you almost found it strange to constantly hear ego boosters or words of praise. You just really didn't want to get married to the practical stranger, and the longer you were on his personal island the more you felt uneasiness flood your bones.

Shouldn't Yoongi have already come? Was it time to give up? If Yoongi had come up with an idea, surly he would have rushed over as past as possible. Now, there were only a few hours until the wedding. You knew it was stupid to hold onto hope and stall for time, but you just couldn't help it. 

Your gaze danced about the room before spotting a cup of coffee on the makeup table. The idea you hatched right then was horrible, and you knew you would surly be labeled as a bad person if you went through with it. Your determination was stronger than morals.

It would be such a shame if you accidentally poured coffee all over your wedding dress, wouldn't it? They would have no choice but to post pone the wedding and find you a new dress...

It seemed as if the other women in the room also knew of your plan, but they discovered your scheme too late. You were already reaching for the mug, about to have a clearly fake clumsy spill. Their eyes widened as your hand wrapped around the handle of the mug; they rushing towards you before-