"YOU AREN'T USUALLY THIS EMOTIONAL."
"No," I said with my lips trembling. "But I'll be in around four days I guess. I hate it. I hate when I'm like this. In moments like this I just want to stay away from everyone and work, or read, or do something alone, so no one will be able to tell the miserable state I'm in," I growled. "It's so unfair that we woman have to go through this monthly-bleeding, cramps, and the emotional whirlwind, while men don't."
They all chuckled softly, already used to this speech, "Come, let's sit down together," grandpa Christian took me by the hand and they all guided me to a corner so we sat there. "Tell us, what was that with Choi Jung-won?"
My eyes rolled instantly, "It was nothing, damn it. Nothing. We met some days ago when I was ice-skating in the lake, we talked, he freaked out like a bipolar person and got all mad for absolutely nothing. He may be handsome, but don't let that fool you. He's an asshole. His personality is horrible."
"My personality isn't horrible," a familiar deep voice spoke from the door frame on our right, startling the shit out of me, spreading goosebumps down my spine. He turned his head to me, and gave me a annoyed look, "And I didn't freak out for nothing. I'm not bipolar. Stop that bullshit, Freya. Don't talk about me like that or you will regret."
I scoffed, feeling that anger burning me from the inside out again. "Don't be a bitch, Choi. You know you freaked out for no reason. And that's clearly a bipolar behavior," I grinned. "You should get your mind checked out. And I'm only speaking the truth, nothing but that. If you don't want to hear it, you shouldn't act like that and shouldn't go around eavesdropping others' conversations. That's rude."
A grin that seemed more like a sneer, appeared on his beautiful lips, "You are the one who should get yourself checked out, Freya. It wouldn't be surprising if you got diagnosed with paranoid disorder, psychopathy, or even narcissistic complex."
Getting up, I took a deep breath clenching my fists, "You should keep that mouth of yours shut, if you don't want to leave this villa with a broken bone, Choi Jung-won."
But his sneer only got wider, "Should we add aggressive tendencies to that diagnosis too? Yeah, it would be fitting. You don't seem to be able to hear a critic without losing control of your anger."
I stared at him for what seemed like a century before saying anything, "And to think I offended him accidentally by believing, even for a second, that you were him just because of your lips," I mumbled more to myself and scoffed. "You are the definition of an asshole. I don't even know why I'm slightly surprised," then I turned to my grandparents. "Sorry, I love you, but I can't take this. I'll stay for dinner, but this will be the last time before Christmas Eve. Your emotional manipulation won't work again."
Said that, I turned around and left, going to the stairs and up to the third floor, where the library of the house is. It used to be one of my favorites places in here. And it was good because my siblings almost never came inside here, so it felt like my place. Mine and dad's, since he's the only reader in the house besides me.
I took off my heels and laid on the dark red velvet couch, in a way that wouldn't mess up my hair. Then I took my phone out of my clutch, opened Spotify and put Pretty Poison by Nessa Barrett to play.
Closing my eyes, I felt at home, and began to sing the song. And even when I heard someone coming inside and getting near me, I didn't open my eyes or stopped singing. "Lookin' at you lick your lips. You're thinkin' on me. Makin' faces at me while you paint mine for me. Say my name, say my name. Like you know it's holy.
Everybody wants a taste. But the truth is hard to chase. Pretty poison in my mind and in my veins."
The person held my legs up, sat down, and rested my legs on their thighs. And I kept singing, unbothered. "If my name is in your throat. You're mine to take, I hope you choke. But in the end, I hope you know, I hope you know. I'm in your veins like pretty poison.
You think you kissin' on my scars while you rip 'em wide open. You sugar coat your sharp teeth while you're preyin' on me, broken. You couldn't hate me more than I hate myself. Added to my list, I can go to Hell. If you think you want me dead, go ahead, here's a token."
But as I felt that the person's belly was kind of too big, I froze. It can't be who I'm thinking, right? There's no way. "Marie-Estella?" I asked, still with my eyes closed.
"It's me," oh shit. What is she doing here? "Can we talk?"
"I don't want to talk to you," but my tone wasn't rude.
She sighed, "Then I'll talk and you will listen, okay?" I said nothing. "I've been wanting to talk to you since you learned about me and Dean. But you avoided me as if I was a grim reaper." I felt my cheeks burn, it's the second time today that some used this expression against me.
It's kind of funny because just some days ago I used all of them to explain my relationship with Rhys Choi to Dean. And also when I talked with that asshole too.
"We never really talked back then, did we?" No. "I was a little pissed off when you said that to me when you arrived, but I kind of get where you are coming from, you know? I'm aware of the mistakes I committed back in school, and how I treated you. How I… bullied you. It must be hard to see me married to your brother and pregnant for the second time."
"You have no idea," I mumbled.
Sigh, "I wasn't going to talk to you, because I was afraid that you would avoid me again." That would be the reasonable and expected action.