You were, to say the very least, pissed.
Pissed that your family lied to you for all these years.
Pissed that you would have to leave your lifestyle.
Pissed that you were being pressured into an arranged marriage.
Worst of all, being pissed at the fact that you were sitting in a wedding gown boutique right now. You frowned at all the long, white dresses with pearls and lace. Never have you imagined yourself to be wearing one. Much less, inside a shop for them.
Your mother and grandmother were already quite annoyed with your lack of interest in the ceremony. Thus, the two women took upon themselves the task of preparing you for the "big day".
You've actually been sitting on the same chair pouf for the past hour, staring, as they rushed back and forth, agreeing and disagreeing on what would look best on you.
Eventually, you got tired of playing Crossy Road on your phone for the umpteenth time, and decided to go check out some gowns for the heck of it. Your mother raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"I'm just bored, don't think I'm getting interested in this," you said in response to her reaction.
As you strolled away, your grandmother whispered to your mom, "I told you Y/N would come around! She's a young woman! It's inevitable to be curious about marriage."
-
It only took a couple minutes for you to realize just how beautiful the gowns actually were. How much effort was put into them. The detailed designs embroidered into each dress. But the outrageous prices! Jeez! Yeah, your family had millions of dollars, but your middle-class brain still couldn't handle the thought of five-digit wedding gowns.
Your fingers reached out to feel the fabric of each dress as you walked down the rack. Then, one particular dress caught your eye.
(A/N:Use your dream wedding gown, but I'm thinking of this one.)
It was the prettiest gown you've ever laid eyes on. The gown was a creamy, light pink. Fabric flowers were embroidered almost everywhere, and its sweet, subtle off-shoulder neckline made you tempted to wear it.
"You have great taste, Miss Y/N."
You whipped your head around, and found a young woman speaking to you. She was smiling fondly and carrying a clipboard. "Perhaps you would like to try it on?"
The worker took the dress off the rack and gestured you inside a lavish dressing room. She helped you zip up the back, and ruffle the bottom of the gown a bit.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and quietly gasped.
You were beautiful.
The worker smiled even wider, "I suppose you fancy this dress?"
Your inaudible reply was enough for her to find your grandmother and mother and gesture them inside the room.
One look at you, and they teared up.
She's growing up, they thought. Their tomboyish, antisocial daughter would soon be the bride of a wealthy, powerful mafia boss. The truth was too much for them to digest, but the dress made it easier to take in.
"We'll buy it."
-
Eventually, you grew a bit warmer to the idea of wedding planning. Choosing what types of this and that, were actually kind of satisfying for you.
Your favorite flowers were chosen for your bouquet and overall flower scheme. You chose (y/f/color) as the color theme, and picked out what kind of furniture and decorations would be displayed.
However, all hard-workers deserve breaks... and that included you. Deciding for a glass of lemonade, you made your way to the common area of the venue, where the pitchers of beverages and plates of hors d'oeuvres were located.
Humming your happy tune, you walked, almost skipped, there. But, your excitement was short-lived when you bumped into someone.
"I'm sorry!" You immediately exclaimed.
The person turned around, and the sight of them caused your breath to hitch in your throat.
What stood before you was a handsome man. Fuck, the most good-looking guy you've ever seen.
His dark brown locks framed his face nicely. He wore a crisp, black, long sleeve button-up shirt.
How did this guy manage to pull off plain clothes??
"Watch where you're going next time, Miss," he responded, as he grabbed his cup of water, and brushed against your shoulder as he walked away.
Wow, the sarcasm stung hard.
But, you were too busy staring at the bit of chest that was shown from the unbuttoned portion of shirt, to realize exactly how his comment was rude.
Instead of making a snarky remark, you took your cup of lemonade and ran to the nearest comfort room.
Sinking to the floor, back against the door, you held your chest. Your heart was beating fast.
He was pretty hot.
°
y'all ready know tsundere chan is on here whoot whoot. i should probably stop writing at such late times smh. be prepared to get some hiatus for a couple days (causes: holy week, interview, ap exams). at least summer break is in 10 weeks, which gives me something to look forward to :)
- erica