Fated Love Tribulation

What is love? Love is the kind of emotion you spend a lifetime trying to forget. And if you can't forget it, then I'd trade lifetimes of loneliness just to earn your forgiveness. The city nights belong to the wildest souls, but the bars? They're the refuge of lonely hearts. Amid the swirling smoke, her thick golden curls cascade effortlessly over her shoulders, each strand radiating an air of sensuality. Her long lashes, smoldering gaze, and luscious lips ooze a charm that is impossible to ignore. She's rocking a cropped, soft pink-and-purple jacket that accentuates her perfect figure, paired with a knee-length velvet yellow skirt and black knee-high boots. A total knockout, like a poppy flower—you know it's dangerous, but you still can't help being drawn in. With a slow, deliberate motion, she raised the cigarette to her crimson lips, inhaling deeply as though trying to squeeze out the last bit of air from her lungs. Then, ever so slowly, she exhales a trail of smoke, one ring after another. The cigarette burns quietly between her fingers, and as the smoke dissipates, the look of loneliness on her face tugs at the heart. "Rena," a warm voice calls from behind. Without turning around, she lets a dazzling smile bloom on her face. "EJ, you're here," she murmurs, her expression so delicate and vulnerable that any man's heart would ache for her. "Why so much alcohol again?" Ethan frowns, the stench of booze from her breath hitting him. Can't she see she's hurting herself? She brushes off the hand he tries to offer, wobbling as she gets up, her intoxicated gaze holding a dangerous allure. "I'm not drunk. If you don't believe me, come closer and smell," she teases with a flirty smile. Her black outfit clings to her, highlighting every curve, and her golden hair shimmers like a sunset. Her bright, clear eyes, straight nose, smooth skin, and pink lips are breathtaking, though right now, those lips are pressed tight with barely contained fury. "I'm really not that drunk," she insists, right before tripping forward. In a flash, Ethan catches her, pulling her into his arms. "I'm taking you home," he says in that same calm voice, though his tone leaves no room for argument. "No, stay and drink with me," Serena pouts, her fingers lazily fiddling with his shirt buttons as she leans into him. "Next time. Tonight, you're going home," Ethan says, ignoring her protests as he scoops her up and heads straight for the exit. "No, let me go! Let me go!" she shrieks, flailing her handbag in drunken frustration. "Rena, if you move one more inch, I'll drop you right here," Ethan snaps, his face turning an angry shade of purple. She giggles, "HeH, you're mad. You're mad again." her innocent grin is back as her hand "accidentally" brushes across his face. "Rena!" He's on the verge of losing it this time. Outside, the rain continues to drizzle, offering a slight relief to the thick, stifling air. Holding her close, Ethan's lips press together, and after what feels like an endless journey, they finally leave the noisy streets behind. "Rena," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his deep eyes almost glistening with emotion. But there was no reply. Instead, her soft, steady breathing came from his arms. Glancing down, Ethan lets out a long, weary sigh. Serena is asleep. A bittersweet smile tugs at his lips. In the next second, he finds himself completely captivated by her peaceful, sleeping face. Her delicate lashes flutter like butterfly wings, covering those beautiful eyes, while the alcohol has painted her cheeks with a soft flush. Her slightly parted lips release gentle waves of warm breath. Ethan's gaze lingered on her rosy lips, her perfect nose, and her soft, glowing skin. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before slowly exhaling. It's not the first time he's seen her asleep, but every single time, his heart races uncontrollably. Shaking his head, he adjusts her position in his arms, holding her closer—the woman he both loves and despises. Outside the bar, the neon lights are still flashing, and at some point, a light drizzle has started. The wind blows gently, the rain falls quietly. In the misty night, it feels as though the world has shrunk to just the two of them. "Rena, I love you," he murmurs against her forehead, planting a soft kiss there. In his arms, Serena shifts slightly, snuggling deeper into his chest, falling even deeper into her slumber. "Rena, what am I supposed to do with you?" he whispered, his voice as gentle as ever, though this time tinged with sadness. Loving a woman like her is bound to leave him broken, but he can't help it. He loves her anyway—hopelessly, selflessly, in a way she doesn't even understand. He spoils her, hoping that one day, maybe one day, she'll finally get it. The night grows darker, the streetlights flicker on and off. Ethan, sitting in the car, takes one last look at her sleeping face. In her dreams, she must be thinking of something happy; a faint smile curls the corners of her lips. As the season of falling flowers begins, sadness creeps in for no reason. In the dim light, Ethan brushes a stray lock of hair from her forehead and tucks it gently behind her ear. After a quiet sigh, he carefully fastens her seatbelt and, with a firm push on the gas pedal, the car speeds off into the distance like an arrow released from the bow. The road ahead stretches wide and open.