The Perfect Boyfriend [Daragon]

Chapter 13

I bit my lip as I fidget on the throw pillow hadabuhjee lent me. Jiyong was pressing the ice pack on the cut over his right eyebrow by himself in the back seat, grunting as he does. Meanwhile I feel uncomfortable at the shotgun, since it's my first time in years.

"I told you Sandara, I was fine driving without someone sitting on the shotgun. You should've seated with doryeonnim in the back seat." Hadabuhjee said, his dry old voice at least lightening up the mood for a little bit. I laughed, though a little bit forced and said, "It's okay. From time to time, shotgun won't hurt would it?"

"Shotgun hurts." Jiyong said, immediately, which made it look like it's a contrary. "When pointed straight to your heart."

I gulped, what was that for?

The tension between us grew thick that I began to sweat, and Hadabuhjee thought that the reason for that was because the air coming from the air conditioner wasn't enough. He turned the air conditioner's temperature from mid-cool to high.

"You don't need to do that." I whispered, suddenly. Hadabuhjee chuckled and answered, "It's okay, Sandara. Just relax. We're almost there."

But that was the problem: I can't relax. The thought of being inside Jiyong's family car, and that I'm going to his house because his mother requested me to do so doesn't make me stay put. I can feel my heart beating so fast that I hardly hear the noises around me. My head is spinning while it flashes Jiyong's family members in my head. His mom, his dad and his sister—also her family, since I've played with Jiyong's nephew a few times already. Do they already know of the break up? Or do I have to act in front of them as I do in front of the other students?

I gulped, and my subconscious hides inside her lair as soon as I saw Jiyong's house—no, mansion—getting near. It was located uphill, isolated from all the other houses in the suburbs. I don't know the exact words to describe their mansion, so I'll leave it up to your imagination.

Hadabuhjee started to climb the small hill. From behind I heard Jiyong grunt.

When we reached the top, Hadabuhjee turned and made a complete stop in front of the mansion's huge twin wooden doors. As if everyone inside the mansion was anticipating our arrival, I saw a swarm of house helpers bursting out from the inside with their outrageous outfits. Today, Jiyong's mother picked the concept of The Hunger Games, so the house helpers were wearing different clothes based on the district they are in. Hadabuhjee whistled. "Ma'am got carried away with the concept."

You see, Jiyong's mother has this fetish. Since she's managing a fashion line, she uses their house helpers to know if the clothes she makes are of best quality. It was way back then when she refused to have mannequin models (another long story). Now, she's using it as a play. She would make 26 costumes from a specific movie, and make their house helpers wear it, regardless of your age or looks. Then, Jiyong's father liked the idea, and much worse, devised that every week their house's interior would change based on the movie.

And with that said, I'm starting to fear what I'll see inside.

The house helpers split in half, making a way in the center and I saw Jiyong's mother. She was wearing simple clothes with her hair tied into a simple bun. She's copying Katniss' mom.

And she's not angry.

Jiyong got out of the car first then opened my door for me. It didn't remain unnoticed by me his mother's smile when he helped me get off. When my feet were already touching the ground, I brushed Jiyong's hands from my waist but didn't forget to mutter, "Thank you."

Jiyong was waiting for more. My subconscious tells me to look at him, but I know I shouldn't. With that begging smoky, seductive gaze, I am helpless. I am so much helpless.