Chapter Eight

Hazel George was out of bed before the crack of dawn. Being in Van goth's unfamiliar apartment, in a city she had sworn never to return to and starving because of her mammoth sized pride were not the ingredients for a good night's rest. She took a quick shower, donned her usual cutoff jeans shorts, a ratty t-shirt and sloppy bun, then sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door.

Her pride told her that going into his kitchen to raid for food was the lowest possible thing she could do. It was giving a lengthy speech about determination, morals and something or the other about not submitting to 'the man', but she was more inclined to listen to what her stomach had to say.

And it was saying plenty.

She was starved.

Dragging her hand down her face, Hazel silently cursed herself out for not being forward-thinking enough to buy herself food. She stood and walked determinedly out of the bedroom and straight to the kitchen to scavenge for food.

By doctor's orders, she was not supposed to miss a meal. She was supposed to eat three square meals and ignore fast food and snacks like the plague. But she was hungry enough to empty a half full pack of Cheetos while she scrambled some eggs found in the refrigerator. When the Cheetos had disappeared, Hazel went in search of bread, and was rewarded with half a loaf in a cupboard that she had to climb on a chair to get to.

"Food is a blessing." Hazel muttered to herself, foregoing toasting the bread.

She dished out two plates of scrambled eggs and bread, ignored the strawberry jam that was calling her name, put one of the plates in a heated drawer and then poured herself some coffee that she had put to brew. When she had finished, she stuck a note on the coffee pot for her supposed husband-to-be; telling him where the eggs were and that they were even. Even for what, she was not so sure.

'Ps. they're not poisoned', she added at the end.

Satisfied, Hazel then took her own plate to her room. She settled in the middle of the bed and stared at a barely started painting she was working on before she up and left Chicago.

Around 8, Hazel heard Van goth shuffle pass her door and into the kitchen.

If he had a problem with her using his things, Hazel reasoned, then she would simply eat his share too and leave him to do the dishes.

Not that she was going to do them anyway.

Minutes after, Van knocked at her door. She composed her expression and mumbled a 'come in' just loud enough for him to hear.

When the door opened and he said nothing, Hazel muttered an annoyed, "Yeah?"

"Ah..." Van hesitated, "Thanks for breakfast."

"Mmmh." Hazel replied. She tried to focus her thoughts on the painting.

"Our dads expect to meet with us in an hour." He added.

Hazel let out an audible sigh and muttered something under her breath, making no move to get up. She was sitting cross legged on the floor, balancing a palette of various shades of oranges in her lap and holding a thin brush delicately between her fingers.

"They want to discuss the... agreement with us." Van added.

Hazel finally turned to look at him. She scanned him, even as her brows creased at the news and she pressed her rosy lips, rolling her eyes, "I'll be ready."

Hazel looked cuter in the morning, Van decided. Maybe she had a better temper then too. Still, he did not want to test that theory; he had had enough of her hellfire temper from the night before. Swallowing anything else he might have said, Van made to turn and walk back to the kitchen area.

Hazel stood, closing the door, practically in his face, prompting Van to knock again. When she opened scowling, Van answered in a thin voice with a scowl of his own, "You can leave the door open. I'm not going to barge in there uninvited."

"First, it is not necessary for you to tell me what to do. Second, if you won't come in uninvited, then a closed door shouldn't bother you."

And the door was closed in his face again. Van suppressed the urge to punch something.

When they got into his car, Van turned on the radio to listen to The Fray, much to the annoyance of Hazel. There was nothing wrong with The Fray, she quite loved them, but the fact that the man next to her was the one listening to it annoyed her.

"You don't like The Fray?" Van asked, pushing back his dark bangs from his face.

"I do." she responded, not looking at him.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" Van tried joking.

A retort found its way to Hazel's lips but she bit it back, settling instead on glaring at buildings they rushed pass.

"Don't you think-"

"Please, for the love of God, don't speak." Hazel muttered loud enough for him to hear. "For the rest of the drive, just don't speak. Silence, I'd really enjoy some silence.

Van scuffed in disbelief, "I'll try to keep in mind that the person I'm marrying is the Grinch. Better yet, a nut with anger problems."

Hazel's eyes rolled upward as she pressed her lips tighter. She knew that she was not the Grinch or anything else he wanted to call her. She was simply feeling very irritated, but considering the situation – the fact that she was allowing herself to marry a stranger – it would be weird for her no to be. And thus her current PMS-like state.

But then again, it really was her time of the month. All her life, since that cursed day that she had awoken feeling like a truck was revving in her abdomen, Hazel had always experienced terrible cramps. And behold, they only seemed to get worse every month.

"Could you stop at a drug store?" Hazel mumbled after a few minutes.

Her request was so low Van thought, for an awkward moment, that he had imagined it.

"Ah, yeah. What do you need?"

"None of your business."

"Okay," Van mumbled just loud enough for her to hear, "I'll leave you there."

Hazel did not know whether to roll her eyes or laugh so she reluctantly settled for doing both. Van glanced over and smirked.

She had a beautiful laugh.

When she had finally gathered the things she wanted, they spent several minutes arguing about who was going to pay the bill.

"I don't need you to buy me pads and cramps pills, Van." Hazel argued, grabbing at his credit card, hoping that he would shy away after she had announced to the three other customers what she was buying.

Van smiled sweetly, handing the card to the cashier over her head, "But I don't mind, sweetie."

Hazel watched the transaction venomously. She glared at the card as it made its way back to Van's hand and as he took the little white bag from the counter. He turned, walking towards the door. Hazel considered going back around the store to collect the things and pay for them by herself. She sighed, following him out the door that he was holding open. Hazel walked ahead of him, stewing over what she did not like to keep herself angry.

Well, for one she did not like it that Van was trying to 'take care of her'. There had not been anyone but herself to rely on for years. She knew coming back to Jersey meant that everything was going to change. The only thing that comforted her was the fact that she could control the little things. But a man – this man in particular – buying her cramp pills, pads and painkillers for her arm was not her definition of comforting.

"How did you get that?" Van questioned, trying to fill the silence that settled in the car again.

"Fell off a chair and landed on my arm." He nodded, sending her a sidelong glance, as if to say I told you so.

Hazel eyes automatically rolled.

*forced*

Once they got to the Steel mansion both their fathers' immediately ushered them to sit so they could go over the contract. Mr. Steel read through the obvious parts – stuff about none disclosure about the contractual side of the marriage. Then he dived into the second clause of the contract.

"This is my main clause, which neither one of you should object to; you share a bed-"

Hazel interrupted, her face going a startling shade of red. She casted a sidelong glance at Van goth, "With all due respect Mr. Steel, I am not sleeping in the same bed with your son."

Lionel sent her a warning look which she tactfully ignored by staring between father and son. The son was looking at her with an eyebrow cocked in questioning, whilst the father wore an amused expression aimed at her.

"Let me get to the worse of it." He chuckled, "At least one child must be borne of this marriage within the first three years."

"Can't we adopt?" Van asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Not the first child. Otherwise, there will be no initiative to have sex." Hazel spluttered on the sip of water she had just taken. "And for a marriage between two healthy-bodied persons to work, the sex should great."

It was Van's turn to go red. He glanced over at Lionel uncomfortably. Hazel's father looked distinctly unbothered, as if they were not practically bargaining about his daughter having sex.

Hazel cringed. It wasn't so much the thought of having sex with Van Steel that bothered her – by all mines he was one of sexiest specimen she had ever laid her eyes on – but the thought of the actual action of being intimate. There was no way in hell she was going to be intruded on by another player who did not love her.

Van glanced over, seeing her expression. Hazel watched his already midnight eyes go black as his expression darkened.

She shook her head, not having the strength to deal with the heated question in his eyes.

"Anything else?" she asked begrudgingly.

Johnathan smiled calmly at his daughter-to-be, "There is absolutely no room for even the thought of a divorce. This marriage is something that should last forever."

Hazel blanched at him as he went on to explain the consequences of either one of them filing for a divorce. As her mind raced, she could not find a loop hole to that clause.

When he paused to get their insight, Hazel smiled what could easily be described as murderous.

"I'm irritated beyond belief and PMS-ing. I don't know why I'm telling you that but as you are already diving into my whole life you might as well know." muttered Hazel, standing.

She let her eyes flicker between the older men and said to Van, "Let's go."

*****FORCED*****

Yay! Another revised chapter updated! 

Thanks for reading, voting and hopefully sharing.

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and here on Watty @ ambersamperry for info on updates and such.

Lots of love,