My Perverted Husband | Taehyung

Ten

2 weeks later...
(Wedding Day)

Jae's POV

Standing by my dressing table, staring at myself in the mirror with pure sadness on my face. The girls are all getting me decked up, making me look like a bride.

I didn't think I would get married at this young age, where my exams are approaching and nearly towards the end of high school soon.

I can't even say no, otherwise we'll end up on the streets.

I wish this was a dream, but unfortunately this is reality. I'm getting married to the one I hate. The one I don't even have feelings for and the one I know who I don't and won't get along with once we're together.

"Jae, you make a gorgeous bride!" Hannie suddenly spoke, causing me to snap out of my thoughts.

"She's gorgeous, anyway. She's a princess." Mira replies, while fixing my veil.

"Our princess." Rave adds with a smile.

I tear up, showing how emotional and lucky I am to have these girls. I also show them a fake smile, when deep down I really didn't want this.

I sigh and let them continue.

"There! Now you're ready!" Dee suddenly speaks.

"Good work, girls!" Rave smiles and high fives them all. She hugs me and says, "I can't believe you're getting married."

I hug her back and sigh. "Neither can I."

Many minutes later, the door opens revealing my parents. The girls hug me and excuse themselves, making their own way to the hall.

My parents smile and have an emotional expression on their face. My mother kisses my forehead and hugs me, letting out small sobs and sniffles.

I shake my head and hug her back. "Mum, stop crying otherwise I'll cry too."

She pulls away and nods. "Alright, I won't." Then she laughs slightly. "Let's go to the wedding hall now."

I nod and pick up my white embroidered purse, making my way out of the house with my parents, walking towards the car and drive off to the wedding hall.

I take my phone out from my purse and message Jimin. I haven't heard from him for two weeks, now. I hope he's okay.

Me:
Jimin, you alright?

I was still expecting a response, as he always replies to my messages straight away, but this time I don't receive an instant reply.

We finally arrive at the wedding hall and I see everyone else already entering. My mother opens my car door. Father lifts his hand up for me to take. I hold his hand and step out, lifting up the skirt of my dress.

I thank him and we walk inside together. Just as we enter the hall, my eyes widen when I see many people worrying and making phone calls.