𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ~ 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔

"Yoongi, I'm hurt you that you think that." A voice booms, none other than the man himself, Jung Hoseok.

Despite the fact that I'm not the one who practically insulted the Jung Hoseok, I can tell I'm blushing like a tomato right now.

"Ah, Miss Park," Hoseok bows, "my sincerest apologies for being late. I hope my tardiness will be of no offense?"

"Oh, none taken, sir! It's truly an honor to meet you!" Hoseok chuckles, an endearing thing, if I must say so. Rumors fly no matter where they are, one being that Jung Hoseok is a magical man. Whether it be his devilishly handsome looks or his voice that sings like silk, no one can help but fall for him. Strangely, however, he's never seemed to reciprocate those feelings for anyone. A part of me foolishly believes I might be able to change that; I wouldn't disagree that I've certainly stooped to the level of my fantasies being about him.

As Mr. Jung shows me around the manor, I can't help but think about what it would be like to live here, not as a guest, but a lover.

Stop getting your hopes up, idiot! why would someone like the Jung Hoseok like you?

Eventually, I gather the confidence to ask him what's been in my mind for the past two days.

"I was wondering when you might ask me that, funny enough. That is a question I shall indeed answer, but not at this exact moment." That's certainly an answer. Not the one I was hoping for, but definitely an answer.

"But-"

"Patience, my dear. I would rather we discuss this in the presence of your parents." Who does this man think I am, a child?

~

As the sun begins to set, I can't help but feel more and more uncomfortable in my dress, it clinging to my body in the heat and I'm not aware of if I look like a fool with smudged makeup. If so, Mr. Jung seems to not mind.

"So, Ms. Park, is there anything that may have piqued your interest in this house? Perhaps a painting, furniture?" What a peculiar question.

"Actually, yes."

"May I ask what that might be?"

"In the painting on the wall, right at the top of the staircase, I noticed it depicts what one might assume is a married couple in love. I did, too, but then I looked closely and saw that the woman in it seemed rather... uncomfortable. She placed her fan on her left cheek and from what I remember of my etiquette lessons, that means rejection."

"My, you seem to have an eye for details, Ms. Park. That particular painting is a portrait of my late mother and father," so that's why the figures seemed so familiar. "and what I'd describe as their interesting way of showing love for each other."

"Oh? Do elaborate, if you don't mind."

"Well, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that my mother was not in favor of marrying my late father, which was also shown in the picture with the fan, as you noticed. My father was notorious for being carefree and didn't give much thought about commitment. Mother, on the other hand, used to fret about little things and was an outright prim and proper little lady that beloved father would give everything for their relationship, despite her own displeasure." Mr. Jung pauses, as if thinking about his late parents pains him. I personally don't know if what the ladies in town speak of is true, but it's been going around for ages that Jung Hoseok had not the best relationship with him father.

"I tend to not dwell on it for too long, but it has recently reached my ear that people talk of sending proposals to me, giving their daughters' hand in marriage. Surely you know what I mean to say next, Ms. Park."

I begin to put the pieces together and it makes sense, why we received an invitation from Jung Manor so abruptly, why mother said it was imperative I make a good impression on Mr. Jung, all of it. I hadn't noticed it before, but when I speak, my voice is scratchy and pained, evident that tears form in my eyes.

"Did mother and father accept money from your hand?" Mr. Jung remains silent, as if he's able to understand what it feels like to be a means of gaining respect without one's permission.

"With all due respect, Mr. Jung, I believe I have the right to know what my worth is as a bargaining chip."

"I did not ask for your hand for the reasons you think, Ms. Park. I-"

"Tell me how much they bargained me for."

"One million."

The silence after he speaks is uncomfortable with Mr. Jung just watching me as I break down, finally decided I don't care about looking pretty and releasing a gut-wrenching sob. Call me naive, seeing as there's only one reason a girl's parents would set her up with a man, but I had always thought it would be different for me. That I would have the freedom to choose my lover like mother. That I wouldn't be sold to a man with no haste, his age not a matter, only his prestige and the number of figures in his bank account.

"Sooyoung, please listen to what I have to say."

"What exactly is there to say, Mr. Jung?"

"Please, call me Hoseok. We're both aware of the fact that there is no use for formalities."

"Please, do tell me then, Hoseok, what exactly do you have left to say? Because I only have one thing to say to you."

"Enlighten me."

"I was delusional."

"Pardon?"

"I'll retire to my room, then. Goodnight. You needn't have spent one million on someone like me and waste it." I mumble, hurrying up the towering stairs, ignoring Hoseok's voice calling my name. The cawing of crows outside my window really sets the mood, almost like a funeral. The funeral of my freedom.

I guess I better start getting used to this life, now.

~

1K WORDS HECK YEAH !!

i'm back from whatever the he|| my post test stress-induced hibernation was

i have so many ideas for stories.,,.,,oh my god if i weren't cursed with laziness yall would be begging me not to update so much

neways i hope this makes up for said-stress-induced hibernation !!