Your eyes widened and you immediately backed away.  Omg, what did you just do, _______ah.  Your head hung low while you continuously apologized.  Omg omg.  Your heart pounded so fast, you thought it was going to explode right out of your chest.  And all you could remember were blotches of colors and Kim Jongin gazing back at you with an unrecognizable expression of mix confusion, shock, and was that…a smile…?  You shook your head, cupping your burning cheeks between your hands.    

“Jongin-ah, who do we have here?” a young man stopped in front of you two, breaking through the tension. 

The two handsome males exchanged hugs, laughing at each other like longtime best friends.

“This is my girlfriend, ________ ________,” Jongin introduced, pointing at you. Girlfriend?!  Omg omg.  Heart will pop soon.  You sighed.  But he’s probably doing it to protect Sohee. 

“Hi, I’m Lee Taemin, director of this art gala,” he introduced, holding out his hand.

You shook it graciously.  After some casual conversations about art, you excused yourself to the restroom to let Jongin and his friend catch up. 

In the bathroom, you quickly hid yourself into a stall.  I did not just kiss Kim Jongin.  Why did I kiss him?  As you touched your fingertips against your lip, your heart began to race again.  It must have been the DayQuil!  That’s it!  Totally not your fault, ________ah.  You nervously laughed. 

As you walked down a hall to reunite with your date, you started to feel a bit drowsy and nauseous.  You leaned your head against the wall while the room spun in front of you. 

“________ah!” Jongin called, running down the hall to hold onto you.

“Oppa…” you weakly responded. 

Without another word, he scooped you up into his arms.  Your head rested against his chest.  You covered your mouth as you coughed uncontrollably.  Jongin opened the passenger door of his car and carefully set you down. 

“Where are we going?” your coarse voice questioned.

“Hospital,” he simply responded.

You jolted up on the seat, “No, I’m fine.  Just take me home.” 

He turned around to give you a glare but you tugged onto his sleeve.  With a defeated sigh, he surrendered and U-turned to the opposite direction.  You let your hand fall against your side.  Slowly but surely, you succumbed to your sleepiness but as you drifted off you swore you felt a warm hand softly against your temples. 

 ~~~~~~~~

The tips of his fingers grazed over your peach blushed cheeks and ran down the the loose strands of your hair.  His eyes perked with a sparkle of admiration to each twitch or inaudible sleepy mumble, which fell from your lips.  Unknowingly, Jongin discovered himself releasing a withheld sigh that has burdened him for perhaps, the majority of his life.

“Bingo, you’re right.  I have no ambitions.  I am just a puppet controlled by my parents.  Are you happy, Kim Jongin-ssi?” your outburst of humiliation echoes in the back of his mind.

“So am I…” he murmured as he retreated his hand back onto his lap.  “…So am I…” he repeated as he stared off into the cloudless skies.

In truth, the qualities we judge in others are those we are insecure with ourselves.  Just like you, Jongin grew up in a strict family, who often more than not misused connections and maintained their prestigious reputation through marriages.  He wanted to be rebellious - he didn’t want to be a puppet anymore.  And the more his father begged him for his agreement, the more he began to misdirect his anger and resent you.  It irritated him even more that he was actually attracted to you - from your adorable features to your alluring figure, to your sassiness, and silliness…Jongin knew, if it weren’t for the timing and situation…perhaps...  

But that night, after the formal meetings of both families and your emotional outburst, it came to his realization that you were just as helpless.  Contrary to what he had notified, he didn’t go to see Sohee that night - it was never his plan.  His plan had always been to aggravate you to the point that you’d ask to terminate the marriage arrangement so that he wouldn’t have to.

Yes, it was a cowardly move both because he feared the look of disappointment in his father’s eyes but also because he didn’t want you to live with the label, “Rejected by Kim Jongin” magazine covers and newspaper headlines were sure to emphasis at the knowledge that the engagement was over.  Jongin much rather be the rejected one because you were innocent.  

With his palms gripped tightly onto his steering wheels, he rolled his shoulders back and turned to take a gentle gander at your sleeping form.  So innocent.  Your lashes coat with tiny pearls of tears and the corner of your lips settled to a downward curl.  It was the same expression you had on that night Jongin began to regret his mistreatment toward you.