Dino

You were getting married to a total kid.

. . .

You folded your hands quietly in your lap, on top of one of the many expensive dresses that you owned. You never really enjoyed the clothing your parents forced you to wear, they were usually so uncomfortable. But you knew what punishments would follow if they caught you in a t-shirt.

So you sat there silently as you studied the goings on between your mother and father and the other couple. There was a small boy your age who was flipping through a book; not a book that your parents would’ve let you read. It looked fun, bright colours mixed with fantastical beasts adorned the cover.

He seemed totally oblivious to the situation, you could already guess what the purpose of this was. There could only be one reason why your parents would bring you to what seemed to be a business meeting, the presence of a boy your age was the nail on the coffin.

You were getting married.

Of course, you knew you weren’t going to be married anytime soon, but it was a contract. It was going to happen, regardless of your wishes, nor his. You wondered if he knew that his future was going to be tied to yours from now on. He seemed too innocent, you couldn’t help but to feel jealous that he still hadn’t lost his childhood like you had.

Your back ached from sitting so primly on the chair and you looked longingly at the way the boy was laying reclined on a sofa. It was his house, so you supposed it wasn’t totally wrong, but it just meant that you had to be on your best behaviour while he relaxed.

The voices of the adults settled into a silence and you could feel all four pairs of eyes scrutinizing you while you smiled prettily, the way your teachers had taught you. The boy’s mother hummed in approval before she called to him, “Come here.”

The boy put his book down face first onto the couch before making his way towards where you sat. You couldn’t look at him, you were afraid that your eyes would reveal how upset you were. You didn’t want to look at the person who you were going to be trapped to for the rest of your life.

“Introduce yourself,” the woman prompted.

“Hi,” his voice was quiet, but held faint traces of warmth. This empowered you to lift your head to meet with his dark brown eyes.

“Hello.” You returned, hands still folded tidily together no matter how much you wanted to wring your fingers together.

He smiled. “I’m Lee Chan, it’s nice to meet you.”

. . .

It had been two years since you had first met Lee Chan. Nothing had really changed though, the two of you got along alright, but the underlying expectations always cast a shadow onto your interactions. At least for you. You doubted that Chan even knew that the two of you were technically betrothed.

You think that he felt hurt because he could tell that sometimes you felt uncomfortable spending time with him, but you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t your place to. After all, you were only twelve; twelve year olds shouldn’t have to worry about things like this.

But you were.

Your little hands plucked daintily at the strings of the miniature harp before finishing and turning to acknowledge the applause with a small inclination of your head. But in the brief moment you could see the audience, you noticed immediately that Chan wasn’t there. Typical.

He was probably out playing somewhere with his friends.

. . .

You got married on your eighteenth birthday.

But although weddings were supposed to be the happiest day for brides, you felt nothing but. All you could think about was the fact that everything would be set in stone from this day forward; you wouldn’t have another chance to run. You had considered this option for many years, especially as you got older, but you couldn’t.

There would be no one to help you if you tried. There was not a single person you knew who would be willing to defy your parents and be able to bring you somewhere where they couldn’t find you. Besides, you told yourself that you could do a lot worse than marrying Lee Chan.

It was too bad that he didn’t seem to think the same; while he never fought against the marriage alliance, his coldness towards you never melted. You liked to think that you were pleasant enough towards him, always sending him a handmade card during Christmas time. You supposed that maybe his heart was elsewhere.

You didn’t blame him, it would be fair to assume that he liked someone else. After all, it wasn’t as if you were in love with him, although you didn’t exactly have the freedom he had when it came to meeting other people. However, you still had a few friends and his friends seemed to treat you well.

In fact, when you waved shyly to the ever-smiling Soonyoung, he made his way over to where you stood. He let out an appreciative whistle as he took you in, “You look stunning, Chan’s a lucky kid.”

You smile bashfully and smooth your gloved hands over your elaborate dress. “Thank you.” You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to voice your thoughts, but as you looked at Soonyoung’s open smile, you spoke. “I’m surprised you don’t hate me.”

The dark-haired male tilted his head slightly, “Why would I hate you? I find you quite likeable; you’re nice and make an effort to Chan’s friends, which is more than I can say about all his other–” He was interrupted by another taller male.

“Shut up.” Minghao hissed underneath his breath. He turned to beam innocently at you while you struggled to keep your emotions from showing through. Your smile was flawless once more.

The smartly dressed man coughed awkwardly, “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know anything.”

You shake your head, an amused grin on your lips. “You should probably get to your seats, I hope you somehow manage to sit through an hour of dry ceremony to stay awake for the food later.”

Minghao laughed, “You do know us best. Is the food good?”

In a rare moment, your usual grace is overtaken by a playful roll of the eyes, “I knew who we were feeding. Only the best of the best for you boys.”

Soonyoung interjected, “Excuse you, we are men.”

The lightheartedness fades from your eyes when you look towards the distance. “No, I’m getting married to a child.”

The other two didn’t know what to say in response. On one hand, they wanted to defend their treasured dongsaeng, but they agreed with what you had said; the two of you were mere children.

They didn’t say anything more and left to their seats, but their hearts felt heavy in their chests as they caught the glimmer of tears that shone in your eyes. But what could they do?

As you walked down the elaborate aisle, you met the gaze of your unsmiling soon-to-be husband with an empty smile of your own. Your steps were perfect, like you were gliding instead walking, but your heart was nowhere near as calm. Whether you wanted or not, this was going to be one of the greatest milestones of your life.

When your hand was placed in his, you were startled by its warmth. His grip was firm and soon the heat had warmed your once frozen fingers through your gloves. Your smile grew less empty as your looked to your side. Chan was looking at you with an almost thoughtful expression in his eyes as the minister droned on and on.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. You thought it had been arranged that this line be left out of the ceremony. As your panic began to surface through the quiver of your fingers that he was still holding, he squeezed with reassurance. When you met his eyes, he inclined his head in question.

When your nod your head imperceptibly, he lifts a hand to your soft cheek and lightly brushes his lips across yours. The fleeting touch causes a strange warmth to fill your chest, but it fades as quickly as it appeared.

Chan wasn’t looking at you anymore as you turned to receive the congratulations of your family and friends.

. . .

It had been three years, but he wondered if anything had changed.

You were still just as beautiful as always were, all soft sweetness and untouchable grace. But that was just it, you seemed just has far away as the first time he had met you. Although you spoke to him and tried to involve yourself into his life, he still thought you were keeping yourself from drawing close.

He also felt it was wrong, he had the chance to date and be free while you never had a chance to search for what you wanted. Chan wished there was a way to know that what he felt wasn’t one-sided. If he truly wanted another life, he would have run. There would be no questions asked, but he didn’t want someone else. He wanted you.

All his friends told him to take the chance, to talk to you and confess what he truly felt. But he just couldn’t do it. So, he continued to see other women and hope that you would react and break that now infuriating patience and calm. All he needed was a sign that you could one day reciprocate his feelings.

He should’ve known that was the wrong choice, somehow the media had gotten hold of a photo of him on a date with some woman he happened to be seeing at one point. It was an old photo from a year ago, he couldn’t even remember the name of the woman in the picture anymore.

But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be repercussions. When he came home that night, there was no warm glass of tea waiting for him on the counter, nor was there the familiar sight of you sitting on a couch while flipping through a book or other.

It was bad. The scandal was out and you suffered for it.

Dressed in a form-fitting gown that only enhanced your natural grace, you held tightly onto the person that caused all of the trouble you were currently facing. You could hear the light tittering of derisive laughter as you strode into the party. It didn’t take long for the first catty comment to make an appearance. “I’m unpleasantly surprised to see you actually have the guts to show yourself here with the very person who has clearly indicated he wanted nothing to do with you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Ms. Hae.” You reply woodenly before tugging on Chan’s arm insistently away from the venomous woman.

But the night was one of the longest ones you had ever endured.

. . .

Chan couldn’t sleep that night. As he lay in bed, all he could was think of was the broken sadness that only he could see from your eyes. As usual, your facial expressions revealed nothing, if it wasn’t him, others would think you were in totally in control.

With his conscience weighing heavily in his mind, he made his way to your room. He hesitated in front of your door, knowing that once he entered, he would have to explain everything. But when he heard the muffled sniffle, he opened the door.

You were huddled pathetically in a little ball, wearing a simple sleeping set while hugging a gigantic round penguin he had given you randomly two years ago. Your face was buried in the fluffy toy as your body shook with muted sobs. His heart broke, in all the years he had known you, you had never cried.

He took you into his arms as he apologized over and over again. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.”

Your body melted against his as you cried into his chest, and hitting it weakly with your balled-up fists. “I hate you.” Your voice held no anger, only bitter defeat.

“I know baby, I hate myself too. Everything is my fault,” he continued to hold you tightly, waiting for your tears to subside. When he felt you quiet, he leaned away to look at your reddened eyes which were now regarding you with a watchful but vulnerable gaze.

“Let’s talk tomorrow alright?” He suggested, unsurely. As he began to remove his arms from around you. But you stopped his movements as you looked shyly to the side.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” you agreed but you still didn’t let go of him. “But could you stay here?”

The faint light that came from the moon allowed him to see how your cheeks darkened when you made your request. His heart was racing as he replied, “Yeah. I can.”

As he felt your soft breath tickling his neck while your hand held his beneath the covers, he began see a future that was quite a bit more hopeful than what he had originally thought it to be.

. . . 

a/n i think i got most of 'em bye