Tainted

Chapter 4.

Recommended song: Chelsea Culter-Forever.

Dinner was excruciating for Nari, being close to Gwang-il only made her self-pity soar and looking at him made her lip throb painfully. Her dull eyes avoided his pools of smothering black as much as possible, but she could feel him staring her down, so she peered up at him every so often, and whenever their gaze met, he flashed her a gentle smile.

Gwang-il had the softest smile, a gummy smile that softened every feature of his sharp face and put his perfect teeth on full display. Nari tilted her head, ensnared in his smile for a moment before quickly dropping her head to play with the silk of the tablecloth again. His smile was a trap, a ruse to make you feel comfortable in his heavy presence, it was dangerous as it held your attention, signaling to him that he had you in the clutches of his charms, and she was too close to be getting caught in it.

Nari scanned the room, looking for his puppets and sure enough, they were seated around them with their families just like normal boys. Kwang-hoon was already glaring at Nari when she spotted him, watching her with a malicious smirk tugging at his lips. Nari watched him swivel his hefty ring around his ring finger with his thumb, flakes of her dried blood chipping off onto the tablecloth. Nari fidgeted under his gaze, her chest tightening as she pulled the tablecloth over her legs.

She peered up at Gwang-il for a moment and caught him watching her again, not that he was trying to hide his interest in her. He smiled at her, and she pouted, looking down at her lap, her nails digging into their beds. Her cheeks burned with frustration, she was trapped from all sides, leaving no place for her eyes to roam without seeing someone watching her.

"Nari, how have you been adapting to Pyeongyang?" Gwang-il's mother asked, smiling brightly, the same smile as her son but with much less devastating eyes.

Nari raised her eyebrow as her head shot up, her jaw hanging slightly agape as her mind raced, trying to assemble a coherent sentence. "Good." She chirped, softening her eyes, a good substitute for a smile. "It's so beautiful here."

"She's been working so hard at school; she's already doing so well." Aunt Hana doted and Nari cringed. "Really?" Gwang-il's mother congratulated her, clapping her hands in excitement.

Nari glanced at her Aunt with pleading eyes, begging her to change the topic and she smiled at Nari, turning back to look at Gwang-ils mother, expertly bringing up the new restaurant opening in town causing the woman's face to light up.

Nari let out a soft sigh and neatly placed her spoon next to her empty plate, looking up at the ceiling and admiring the beautiful murals.

Across the table, Gwang-il couldn't stop staring at her. He wasn't trying to make her uncomfortable, he was just studying her. He had never met someone with eyes like hers, they were always shrouded in a glossy emotionless shield, creating a mysterious cloud around Nari. Her eyes were the only reason he didn't kill her the first time they met, they held nothing he wanted to steal, nothing worth taking, anything valuable she hid too well. When he first laid eyes on her he couldn't wait to watch the life drain from her eyes, just like those other bitches, his friends were basically drooling over her, begging him to give them the green light, but her eyes were lifeless. Everything else was perfect for the taking, her round and innocent face, plump lips and silky hair pushed Gwang-il to his limits.

She was an enigma to him, and he prided himself in his control of others, but how could you control someone when there was nothing to control? He enjoyed watching the emotion swirling in the eyes of others, his favorite being fear. When a person's eyes grew wide exposing shaky pupils.

That day she smiled at him he saw something he liked; she had the most expressive eyes when she showed her true feelings. They would puff up and gleam even in a dreary classroom, it made Gwang-il want to smile, and that scared him. What scared him more was his dark desire to hurt her so badly she could never recover started bubbling to the surface the second he saw something worth taking, but rather than making him feel alive like the thought usually did, it made him feel sick.