❝ Killer Beauty❞
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MY FINGERS TAPPED AGAINST THE GLASS table, creating a loud sound, well, not so loud, but since the large hall was fully empty, it sounded loud and clear like glass. My eyes looked around the place, anxiety in my heart, I could feel it beat fast.

My chest felt heavy from the tight wedding dress, making it harder to breathe. My eyes roamed to the large, black wooden clock, hanging on the wall, 9:24. My ears rang as tick, tick, followed.

I was supposed to meet my husband today, our first ever official meeting, apart from the two other that we had—that doesn't count. I sighed, looking down at my shining, yet heavy attire, all the beauty disgusted me at the hefty and trapped feeling I was having, thoughts were filled in my mind, blanking my sight.

I unconsciously looked around, eyes turning barely, I was getting bored, of waiting, I wanted to run back to my sick father, I wanted to hug him and tell him that his daughter won't go anywhere, that it's safe.

My throat was sore, I had been quiet for a really long time, almost one hour, since the wedding ended, I was told to wait for my husband here,

"He wants to talk about something important."

Was what they said to define his important talk. One hour later, he still isn't here, it made you wonder—is he playing with me?

The fear of being rejected by the man who was supposed to live in the same roof as me for six months haunted me, I never wanted to be rejected, it was an embarrassing feeling, it was tricky for me to think about everything happening to me, that he will play, he will hurt—and he will leave.

It's not supposed to be that scary, but my futile imagination was being a rival to me, I almost felt like punching my own self to come into reality, the positive side of me was being pushed and thrown to a side.

My thoughts were interrupted when the large, wooden doors behind me opened, my eyes slightly widened, heart beating fast as I looked in the front, my cheeks—almost on their own, turned scarlet, my heartbeat was getting unsteady as his feet ticked behind me.

The pleasant smell of his cologne filled my nose, and I immediately recognised it—Hermés 24 Faubourg—I knew it as I was really interested in becoming a perfumer when I was young, I used to spend hours searching and smelling them.

My thoughts, once again, were dismissed when he walked past me, my heart fluttered when his hand unintentionally touched against my shoulder—cold as ice.

I stood up, my eyes reaching up to meet his, I felt even more awkward since my heart was beating so fast—I feared even he could hear it.

His brows raised, his eyes searching for mine as he signalled me to sit back down with his left hand, occupied with a watch, my eyes looked down at his long fingers, before I sat back down. My eyes reached up again when he removed his hand from the table, putting them in his black pant pockets.

I—mistakenly—glanced at his chest, the first few buttons of his black shirt were now open, his tie was carelessly placed around his neck, but he still looked handsome.

Handsome? No. That's too simple to to define this striking beauty, he looked like the most beautiful painting, the most precious and most valuable being ever to exist.

I pushed my thoughts away, finally focusing on his face, his eyes were looking at me with boredom? I couldn't understand his eyes, but they seemed tired and weary, maybe because he was tired, or maybe because he thought I was ugly.

Well, in front of this dashing man, I sure was ugly. It ached my heart to see that even this beautiful man had to marry a woman like me—poor, ugly and helpless—I could barely even satisfy his eyes, how will he look at me for six months.

Would he feel ashamed when we walk together? No, he'll feel disgusted.

"Miss Kim, you seem so much in your own thoughts." He finally spoke up, startling me, I looked up at him again, shaking my head lightly. "It's not like that." I quickly defended, not even knowing why.

His right brow raised, and my heart ached even more from his killer beauty, my breath hitched when he lightly chuckled at me, shaking his head, his hair dashingly moved around when he did so, falling around his eyes.

"Whatever. Would you like to have something for dinner?" His voice was sweet like honey, yet sharp. You couldn't differentiate the disgust or love from his voice, it seemed impossible to read him.

I shook my head lightly at him, suddenly feeling sad, I didn't want him to see me eating, and I don't think I'll be able to look at his face anymore, I might die from his beauty. "Why not? Any problem with the staff?" He asked, crossing his legs as his brows knotted together.

It wasn't for my satisfaction—but for his own. The thoughts that his men, his staff and his hotel not doing a good job in pleasing the customer made him furious, however, he didn't show it to me, even though it was so much clear in his chocolate brown eyes, as they stared into mine.

"No, your staff is amazing, I'll not hungry." Perhaps my words had hurt his pride, as he clenched his jaw. "If not, then let's get going back home." The word home, repeated into my head, home? I didn't have a proper one, but staying in a billionaire's home was beyond my imagination.

I watched as he got up, waiting for me to follow. I stood up with difficulty, "But what about you, Mr Jeon?" His eyes turned to yours. "I'm on a diet, and please, call me Jungkook."

Jungkook. Call him Jungkook, is it worth to call him Jungkook, maybe it will sound poison from my mouth, "A-Alright." My voice whispered lightly, as I staggered forward, biting my lower lip lightly.

My heart fluttered—for like the fifth time—when he suddenly slipped his hand around my back, not glancing back as he pulled me closer. My hand grasped onto my other hand as we both walked out of the large hall.

I could feel the glares and glances of staff members and other people as we walked. Maybe they were jealous, and it wasn't a surprise if they were though.

But it's fine, right?

To feel safe in the devil's arms?