It was dark and raining heavily. Under the rain was a lady without an umbrella, running tirelessly. Her clothes were already drenched, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Who would have thought I'd be lucky enough to get the rare May-cream yogurt early today? Desmond will be very happy," she murmured and kept running until she reached a simple-looking house. She entered with a sweet smile on her face and placed the white nylon bag on the table.
"Where is he? He can't be asleep, it's possible, after all it's raining" she sighed and hurriedly climbed the stairs. She opened her mouth to call for the man but then froze at the strange sound of gasping and moaning.
She reached the door and pressed her ear against it, then shook her head.
"He knows we can't do that yet, and he's watching that kind of movie? What if...." she sighed. "He must be feeling bad. Should I just allow him? We're going to get married soon anyway," she thought and was about to open the door but paused.
"Wait... something's off. Isn't that Desmond's voice?" she frowned. Her heart began to race as she opened the door slightly and peeked through the gap. Her breath caught at the scene before her.
There was a man and a woman—both naked—engaged in heated passion on the bed.
Her blood ran cold. Suddenly, she felt freezing despite the wet clothes clinging to her skin. Tears spilled from her eyes, but she made no sound. Her heart pounded uncontrollably as she covered her mouth.
The rain was deafening, masking the noise, and so when she shut the door carelessly, neither of the two lovers noticed.
She rushed down the stairs in a panic, but in her distracted state, she tripped. Her head slammed into the ground, and blood marked the spot.
Groaning, she dragged herself up and staggered out of the house. Her head throbbed painfully, yet she chose to walk under the pouring rain. She didn't know where she was going; her vision was blurry.
As she wandered aimlessly along the road, a sudden flash of light blinded her. She tried to shield her eyes, but dizziness overwhelmed her, and she collapsed.
---
The next day…
"Sweetheart, your fiance seems to have returned yesterday. Do you think she saw us?"
A green-haired lady was hugging a man from behind. They both stood in front of the table where the nylon bag of May-cream had been dropped.
The man frowned and looked at the bag, then turned toward the stairs—only to see the trail of blood. His brows furrowed deeply. He yanked the woman's arms off him and spun around, gripping her neck tightly without any mercy.
"If you don't want to die, get lost now," he growled, his voice frighteningly cold.
The woman choked, gasping for breath.
Desmond glared at her with an expression devoid of emotion before releasing his grip. She dropped to her knees, coughing and wheezing.
"Desmond! You took my virginity, and now you don't want to take responsibility?" the woman cried, tears welling in her eyes.
Desmond looked at her with eyes so cold, she felt as though death was knocking.
"Are you even sure I'm the one who deflowered you?" he questioned icily.
The woman trembled, too frightened to speak.
"What happened between us was all planned and orchestrated by you. Let me warn you—if it turns out my fiance found out about this, don't ever think of continuing to live," he warned, grabbed a yogurt, and walked away.
The woman punched the floor in frustration and bit her lower lip.
"Abigail! Abigail! Just wait. Even if you didn't catch us last night, I'll make sure you're separated from him, forever!" she hissed through clenched teeth and stood up.
---
It was still early. A beautiful lady with a baby face and long red hair slept peacefully. Beside her was an extremely handsome man gazing at her with a warm expression.
He moved his hand to her neck and brushed her hair aside, but the tickle made her stir.
"Stop it, it tickles," she mumbled without opening her eyes, her voice soft and delicate like that of a naive princess.
The man chuckled and leaned in closer to her ear, biting it gently.
She shivered. "Stop it…" Perhaps she sounded angry to herself, but to the man teasing her, it was the voice of morning seduction. He couldn't resist and kissed her lovely cheek.
"If you don't wake up now, I'm afraid you'll have to sleep longer—after some exercise," he whispered into her ear, his voice deep and powerful.
The lady frowned at the unfamiliar voice and slowly opened her eyes—large, beautiful, and black. She looked at the man so close to her and rubbed her eyes.
"Am I dead?" she murmured and glanced at the man again—this time stunned. She sat up abruptly, panic surfacing on her face.
"Who… who are you?" she stammered, already trembling.
The man smirked. "I'll ask you a question, and you must answer truthfully," he instructed.
She nodded quickly. "Please don't hurt me. I'll answer honestly," she whimpered.
"What's your name?"
"Abi… Abigail."
The man stared at her for a long while before frowning.
"Why is she so meek? What did that bastard do to her?" he thought to himself.
Abigail was extremely frightened now. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I… I'm not lying, please forgive me," she pleaded.
The chilling aura around him faded suddenly, and he pulled her into a gentle hug.
"I'm harmless. Don't be scared," he reassured.
Miraculously, Abigail stopped trembling. Part of her even wanted to hug him back, but she knew she dared not cross the line.
"Mister… Mister," she called softly.
He released her and carried her in a bridal style.
"You should eat something first," he said before leaving the room with her in his arms.
Abigail was stunned, staring at him blankly.
"Did… did he mistake me for someone important to him?" she wondered, confused.
---