Son Chaeyoung, a tyrant and philander woman hold the reputation for so long. Not caring for others nor anyone, a remorseless human being. She lives her life the way she wants. No one could alter that and change her desire to stayed the same.
Myoui M...
Her hair was tied in a messy bun with some strands fell on both sides of her temple, and I just realized she had undercut. Honestly, it was charming. I was familiar with seeing her with business suit. At her place, she wore an oversized cream t-shirt tucked in a black knee-length cargo pants and her feet were bare. Funny, I was tempted to giggle at her small toes but succeed holding myself. She gestured me to come in and stepped back allowing me to pass. She took my coat and we stood staring at each other. I had never seen her so nervous and unstable. She avoided my gaze and rubbed the back of her neck.
"Umm, dinner?" She asked.
"It wouldn't be needed" I lied. I was starving but I didn't want to stay long in this place, besides I think the food must be poisonous.
"I doubt that. You have to eat more, you're too skinny. I've seen more meat in a chicken than you" She said tonelessly. Before I could reply, she pulled the hem of my shirt and dragged me to the long wooden table next to the kitchen, "Sit" She ordered, pointing to the chair.
Knowing better than to argue with her, I did. As she moved into the kitchen, I looked around at the enormous open space.
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The house was indeed Elizabethan, with books neatly arranged in every corner of the place, a single black piano sat in the left side of the living room, fireplace that could fit a car, large old fashioned chandelier hung from the dark wooden beam that ran down the centre of the ceiling, and oil paintings and abstract art hung organized on the wall. I glimpsed at the long hallway and a set of elegant stairs that I assumed led to the bedrooms. I felt like I entered a royal palace and shouldn't be here. I turned back to the kitchen---it was similar in style and impression, wooden interior mostly conquered with a gentle orange glow from the lamp on the ceiling.
Certainly, this place didn't resemble the owner. At all. Miss Son came to me, and for a second our eyes met---just stay still until she cleared her throat. She set a plate in front of me and with a smirk, opened the lid on a pizza box. I felt a smile twitched itself on my lips.
"This is dinner?" I asked, contemplating. She nodded. It seemed normal to her, I hadn't had a slice of pizza for ages. I guessed wealthiness and money did contribute at least three-quarters of happiness in life. My mouth watered looking at it.
She hummed "I mostly dine out, but I felt like pizza tonight" She lifted out a slice and slid it on my plate. "Eat"
Not having enough power to stop my hungriness, I ate in silence. While she ate steadily, devouring the rest of the pizza, aside from a second slice she put on my plate. I didn't object to it or the glass of wine he pushed in my direction. Instead, I sipped it, enjoying the smoothness of the deep red merlot. It had been a long time since I had tasted such a good wine. After we finished our awkward and deafening meal, she stood, tossing out the pizza box, then returned. She picked up her wine, swirling it while pacing a few minutes.
