"I don't share," he growled right into my ear, his heavy breath hitting the base of my throat.
"I'm not yours." I hissed back.
He stepped closer, a smirk appearing on his face like all he was feeling at this moment was amusement. My patience was thi...
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Jungkook
From the moment my father broke the news of the planned marriage, I had felt the weight of it on my shoulders. Despite the pretense of having a choice, it was an unspoken duty, a predetermined path I was expected to follow.
The idea of marriage hadn't been foreign to me; it was an inevitability I'd accepted long before my father suggested the arrangement. Our family's status demanded that union.
I had never entertained dreams of love or envisioned a particular woman as my life partner. The concept of an arranged marriage had been ingrained in my upbringing. My father, with his vast network of friends and associates, had many potential matches for me among their daughters. It was more about alliances and social expectations than the pursuit of personal happiness.
Feelings were secondary to the duty bestowed upon me. Love wasn't a factor in the equation, it was pragmatic, a blending of lives guided by family choices. I had grown up understanding that my marital commitment was a crucial thread in the intricate web of our social standing.
The first time I met Reva, after years of seeing her from afar, I had felt indifferent. It could have been any woman, I told myself, but deep down I acknowledged that it couldn't have been just anyone. In the deepest corners of my consciousness, a part of me recognized the unique pull she had on me.
In my idealistic visions of a future wife, I had been looking for someone who would allow me the freedom to be myself, no unnecessary expectations. Yet, as fate would have it, as much as I resented it, that resentment turned into a strange enjoyment of our interactions. There was something strangely satisfying about witnessing her reactions to our forced encounters.
The feelings were mutual though. We both shared a distaste for this marital journey, an agreement that we were bound by circumstance rather than choice. It was a relief to discover that she had no illusions about the dutiful husband I was supposed to be. In our separate lives, we consciously maintained a safe distance.
Despite the circumstantial reality of our connection, I found solace in our conversations. Reva possessed a robust character, unafraid to speak her mind and defend it with conviction. It was a quality that drew me in and sparked a closeness.
Tiptoeing around the inevitable proved to be a futile effort, and the fate I had initially resented became a source of gratitude. Reva, the woman forced into my life, had changed it in ways I couldn't always understand, but in the best possible one. What began as an unwelcome change of path turned out to be a blessing.
In Reva's presence, I found comfort, a safe space where I could reveal aspects of myself hidden from the world. As the dutiful son, I had assumed the role of family bulwark, accepting the obligation to exude strength and face every challenge head-on. This self-imposed burden made me the protector, the one who bulldozed through every hardship.
