" I'm a fool to be in love with the person I'm assigned to kill . I'm your fool ."
___________
He is a broken mess - deceived, betrayed and hurt. His anger is an outcome of the invisible burden of his past. Been through hell and turned into a devil...
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Y/n’s POV
“ I think this dress isn't for me . “ I was appalled by the ocean blue piece the moment my eyes laid on it . Not because it wasn't pretty but because it was too much . The dress revealed my cleavage more than I'd usually prefer. It had a deep , backless structure. Hence I felt practically naked . Then there went its sparkling bottom which covered my feet perfectly and yet there was a slash from the beginning of my right thigh , revealing my tanned leg as I walked . I wouldn't prefer dressing up like this for my ball where I'd be practically choosing a perfect fiance for myself. No , never in my dreams .
“ I think this looks perfect on you , love. " My mother's finger brushed round my cheek , collecting the thin strands of hair that had escaped from the perfectly tied hair of mine . She circled it around her finger and let it fall in a curled form . Her reaction was calm but I could very easily catch the underlying dismay as she spoke those words so tenderly. Therefore, I chose to not speak any further.
It was this way forever. My parents would speak and I would agree with them . If I didn't agree then I was made to . There was no scope of my opinion being expected. Sometimes I felt like I was kept only because they needed a dummy .
“ I think you can take care of the rest here ." My mother spoke in her sweet venomous tone to the make-up artist who nodded her head giddily . “ Then I must take a leave now ." She was looking at me while I connected my gaze with her's through the mirror placed in front of me . I showcased a tight lipped smile and then watched her retreating figure .
A woosh of music and chilling air entered my room when mother had shortly opened the door . Melo jazz was playing downstairs where the guests had already assembled. Then as I was transferred back to my personal little cocoon of warmth , every sound was cut off as the door closed . I sighed , finally feeling the tension off my chest as mom had left .
“ Shall I begin with your makeup ma'am?" The person from beside looked unusually tense and stuff with the fake and forced grin on her face . Her hands seemed a bit shaky as well . “ You can relax now . She won't be back until I call her ." In an attempt to help her calm down , I decided to speak. It seemed to have worked a little as it received an embarrassed chuckle from the woman in her thirties .
“What kind of make-up are you looking for ?" She asked , preparing the set of necessities. I just smiled and replied , " I am sure my mother has already told you about it . “ I wasn't sure whether she caught onto the lingering remorse in my voice or not but most probably she preferred to dodge it away .
My mother was pretty cold to start with. Her rigorous behaviour was the reason behind my perfect etiquettes . According to her , women should always maintain their glory . Their treasure was their bosom and hair ; she made her mindset pretty clear with the dress she had made me wear glorifying both the features. Women should act sober and calm . Always. Their happiness shouldn't be expressed, but controlled. Laughing should be an elegant act rather than an outburst. Eating should be under a limit and the list would go on.
