Fiery Storms [ON HIATUS]

ii

a/n: all the fireworks exploding into colorful smithereens, the neighbors doing karaoke with full volume music, and screams of joy and excitement, prevents me from getting a much needed sleep. I have eye luggage now. 

anyways, enjoy :)

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                    It was two weeks after the talk with Father when I was in the kitchen, eating chocolate chip muffins. Jonathan went out with his friends while Mother went out to visit her friends. Father was in the parlor reading a newspaper when we heard the doorbell ring. I heard the door open and muffled voices came from the entrance. It must be one of Father's clients or friends, I thought to myself.

          "Katherine, would you come here for a moment please?"

I wiped both my paint-stained hands on my apron before I approached his office. I knocked on the office door before entering, my eyes meeting clashing with gunmetal grey. A faint cough broke the trance I was in before looking at my Father who had a knowing look in his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

          "Tea, Father?"

He shook his head before he motioned me to sit on the chair opposite of the male stranger, whilst Father sat behind the desk.

          "Painting, again?" He asked, eyeing my hands and blouse that was obviously stained as well. Unlike Father, Mother has not and will never accept the fact that I am not the kind of woman who goes for anything grand and girlish. Especially when it comes to my choice of clothing!

After doing so, he cleared his throat, like he was preparing a speech he had practiced over and over. As he began to speak, my eyes couldn't help but look at the man sitting right in front of me once again.

          "Katherine, are you listening to me?"

I shook my head, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

          "I apologize, Father. I was just...distracted."

They both chuckled before Father repeated what he said.

         "This man is from Red Sparrow—General of the Core, Sir Dean Ambrose."

The look on my face must have been hilarious since this Dean Ambrose chuckled once again, his eyes squinting from laughter. Warmth invaded my cheeks once again and I just wanted the floor to swallow me up.

Is this the man that I'm engaged to? He doesn't look old. In fact, he looks like he's in his twenties. My Father must have seen the curiosity swirling in my eyes—

          "Katherine Fields, this is Sir Dean Ambrose, your betrothed. Now I will leave you both get to know each other while I tell the maids to prepare for supper."