Chapter 2- Impression?

 

How original rain, pouring after the celebration of the newly wedded.

 

I tapped the glass playfully, observing the drops of rain, as they ran down the window, of the spacious limo.

 

After all I did love the rain, and could never be ceased to be amazed by it.

 

We both were quiet, the only words we had exchanged for the day were literally I do.

 

I wanted to ask something, maybe, do you think the church looked nice, maybe, it was funny when the photographer fell of his chair trying to take a picture.

 

But no.

 

Our relationship, was below that of a mere acquaintance.

 

The silent understanding we had between each other, was as quiet as it was tense.

 

Not even the chill of air that bathed my exposed limbs felt as frigid or as cold as the occasional stare, I felt boring between my shoulder blades.

 

Seriously mom?

 

This dress was, ridiculous!

 

A low cut, back revealing and extremely short frilled, of what felt like a stitch of cloth that rested quietly, above my knees.

 

And my hoodies and any other form of defense against this AC and well him, was packed in the trunk, along with everything else.

 

We had to move to go to OSAKA, because the reception was to be held there the next day.

 

As I said, it was a grand, unnecessary wedding…

 

I settled back, in my seat, and looked at my worn out converse. At least she had let me wear them.

 

I glanced quickly at Jonghyun, just to take in what he wore.

 

A teal, shirt, loose at the collar, and a pair of denim jeans that looked absolutely fine on those long legs of his, that were sprawled across the floor, as he leaned against his arm and looked outside the window.

 

He looked beautiful, not to mention his cologne that practically stifled me as I tried to wheeze my way as far away from him as possible.

 

Remember, I still hated this person.

 

Jonghyun POV.

 

this .

 

Why the hell did I agree to this.

 

It’s a shame, I had such a high place for my parents in my life.

 

But even I, couldn't say that, I loved them too much, to even begin to think  ill of them.

 

But why.

 

Why did they have to choose, her.

 

Hadn’t they realized that she was the one girl, that I had avoided my entire life, when choice was involved?

 

But in reality, she was more beautiful that most girls that I had ever been with.

 

Which was a lot.

 

Even now as she sat, beside me, I was having a hard time keeping my hands of her vulnerable petite body that would surely be overpowered within the matter of a moment.

 

But it still didn't change the fact that I hated her.

 

And I didn't plan really on touching her unless I had to.

 

Or if I really couldn't help my self. After all, she was just another girl, a toy of pleasure for me to entertain and amuse myself with.

 

But she was my wife. And I guess that meant something.

 

Where had my parents gone wrong in bringing me up?

 

I was 19 with this horrible state of mind, that had no intention of fluctuating in the least.

 

Oh well, a rebellious nature, was one that found itself early with me.

 

We were both completely against this I'm sure.

 

Poor girl, I wonder if she was aware of the immense amount of hate I had for her.

 

I mean, I just hated her with no real reason.

 

Or maybe, because of her, I would no longer be able to have half as much as I normally would compared to my life prior to now.

 

Her existence was a burden on my life. Not yielding to my seduction, not behaving the way other girls did when they were around me or in general.

 

She was so different, always sitting by herself, at school with her occasional guy friends that were not so bad I guess, but please.

 

She was always drawing or some other weirdness. So quiet.

 

Well except when she was talking to her friends.

 

Well I guess most people are, but still she was too quiet...

 

I'm sure that somewhere in the years of her pathetic existence she would some how wished that she had had a chance with me.

 

Well I guess she got it.

 

We never really inferred chemistry when we were both in the same room, let alone the same house for the rest of our lives.

 

Taking the moment to do so, my eyes glided along her body.

 

She was beautiful, not ridiculously petite, but still small framed so beautiful.

 

Long tanned legs, a well toned body.

 

y.

 

If she wasn't this person, I hated, I would grab her and have some lust driven , limo or no limo.

 

But as I said, I did hate her, or at least, didn't like her. She freaked me out.

 

We've met so many times and never has she once approached me?

 

All the other girls I've been with have all approached me.

 

Well unless, I had to.

 

Never really treated them well, I mean after a couple of days they would end our relationship, thinking somehow that I had been in the least been affected by their words or actions or even existence, which they assumed would've yielded a slight inclination into me venturing with them into a relationship governed by something as petty as love.

 

It just didn't matter too much to me.

 

I had other things on my mind. Like music. They were simply entertainment when I needed a break ever so often in my life.

 

And speaking of, we would still have to go to school, while being married.

 

That would be interesting.

 

Taking a moment, I observed her every action, hey eyes were literally glued to every structure of a building  and every sign of a tree as we passed by.

 

When we passed something that may be considered beautiful like a rather tall building or a road of trees, she would bite her lips and squeeze the cloth of whatever bit of that dress she had that rested of her knees.

 

I'm sure she had seen these things millions of times, yet her eyes were wide and full of wonder as if she were now seeing them for the first time.

 

It was as I said, weird.

 

She seemed to be tracing every detail, every grind of brick, every falling leaf, every raindrop that fell and hit the ground.

 

It almost seemed robotic, as if all this data was being stored somewhere in her mind, for further use.

 

From what I gathered in the span of 5 minutes, this girl lived for her art.

 

Wait I was thinking way too much about her.

 

"Yah," I suddenly said, my words monotonous and flat.

 

Her shoulders shuddered.

 

Like a deer, she turned around and looked at me, her eyes wide and gaping, surprised that I had called her out of no where.

 

Wow, she really was beautiful, with these unreal eyes and perfectly shaped lips and heart shaped face~

 

But still

 

"Did you just call me to stare at me?"

 

The unexpected words made my thoughts stop abruptly.

 

Who was this little ?

 

She was throwing off my cool.

 

"No," I said quite flatly and quietly, my patience already edging.

 

She blinked, sleepily at me, as if she would've preferred to listen and to count how many drops of rain hit the glass, rather than hear the words that were about to come through my mouth.

 

" This marriage," I breathed steadily.

 

MY POV

 

"It means nothing to me."

 

His words were cold but somehow expected, there was nothing I could've really said at the moment.

 

So I continued to stare at him.

 

Amazed by his unearthly features, that arbitrating expression on his face.

 

And amazed by the fact that he thought that I would somehow not be aware of this.

 

In his eyes, I probably was less that the dirt that remained under his shoes before walking into this car.

 

"I know." I said quietly, more soft-spoken than I had expected it o be.  I swallowed, was I showing weakness?

 

My body tensed as I looked at him in his eyes, the task arousing the conflict of many raw unsettled emotions that had battled endlessly since the day I first saw him.

 

But I was blunt, and unintentionally said things that I probably would've preferred to phrase differently but hey, they just came out.

 

"Does this mean, you'll still be having as often as you would like with any girl you feel like at school?"

 

He didn't flinch, he actually seemed more amused with my words than shocked.

 

Which was irritating, it was intended to lay some damage.

 

He narrowed his eyes at me, and bit his lips, his dimples visible as light on his face.

 

"You seem to know me better than I would've originally thought."

 

His words disgusted me, but his voice, I hated the fact that almost as if hypnosis, I couldn't shake it, I couldn't help my nerves from shuddering at the sound of it.

 

He could talk me to death.

 

In both a good way and a bad way.

 

I shrugged, I guess that would've affected me 4 years ago, but now anymore.

 

Or at least I hope it didn’t.

 

"Whatever," I said softly, returning to the glass, there were so many things to draw, and I didn't have my art journal.

 

Wasn't there anything around here to draw with?

 

Napkins? A pen? Nothing?

 

Wait there would be napkins in the lodge. Almost smiling I dove towards the lodge area of the limo, near the fridge and cabinet.

 

Waiting for a traffic light, I moved to go forward, but suddenly losing my balance, I fell over, but my waist was quickly caught but an iron of a grip.

 

Surprised I turned around only to see Jonghyun staring straight ahead as if he hadn't even flinched to brace my fall only a moment before, his arm, still around my waist.

 

Hesitating now, on my knees, I rest my hands against his, nervously, at mind, but rather straightforward at my words.

 

My heart jolted slightly, at the memory of his hands, as they rested against my skin when we exchanged the rings.

 

I could feel  my cheeks go pink, as his index finger brushed against the bare skin, where my the dress ended at my back.

 

It made me feel soft, like a girl, the skin raw and , just like when his fingers had touched my neck.

 

"Umm thanks," I said sheepishly, finally moving his hands away. He continued to look straight through his window, his jaw fixed as if he had swatted a fly away with no greater concern.

 

Spoilt brat.  I thought. Careful to crawl towards the cabinet.

 

With flushed cheeks,  I shuffled through the items and quickly gathered a notepad and pen.

 

Better than what I expected.

 

Contented I sat back in my seat after more crawling, and began sketching.

 

Inevitably, I lost myself in thought, once I began trailing ink across the paper before me.

 

Was this really going to work out? I was already considering divorce.

 

Into five minutes of my skyscraper and that street lined with rustic trees, we had passed on our way back, I couldn't help but feel eyes boring into me, discerning my every breath and movement.

 

I turned my head sideways only to see the brat staring straight at my drawing, his expression blank and indifferent.

 

His gaze glided to mine, then as if nothing mattered to him, he continued to stare at the drawing.

 

I shrugged, divorce, was an option.

 

Hell no. it wasn't. that would defeat the purpose of this entire situation.

 

I glanced again, only to see that his attention had been drawn to the garage, of where we had now arrived.

 

Our home…