Just Business

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You agree to an arranged marriage between yourself and Kim Jongin.



You bowed your head shyly as you entered the private room of the fancy Korean restaurant, desperately watching your mother’s back as she made her way to the vacant side of the table, wishing that you had the type of hair that would fall and curtain your face, instead of your defiant curls.  

When you finally mustered up the courage to look on the other side of the table, you were at first relieved to see the comforting friendly, smiling faces of Mr. and Mrs. Kim, before you noticed the cool, austere expressions of the couple sitting next to them.  But that’s not what made your stomach drop, robbed the strength from your legs as you sat gracelessly next to your mother in your new finery, purchased solely for this occasion. The meeting of the families.  

No, what dried your mouth, and started a brutal kaleidoscope of iron butterflies to begin shredding your stomach was the boy--man--who said next to them, now across from you.  In the weeks since you had decided to go through with the marriage, you didn’t know why you had never considered…

But the man who was steadily staring back at you…

The man that you were supposed to marry, just for business…

Was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing that you had ever seen.

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