Chapter 2: He and I Don’t Get Along
1074 Words
Seeing the anxious look on Rose’s face, Catherine couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “You look more nervous than I am.”
“Of course I’m nervous!” Rose shot back, a flicker of irritation flashing across her face as she noticed Catherine’s amused expression. “You’re way too soft-hearted, that’s why your family has you wrapped around their little finger.”
Her words caused Catherine’s smile to falter, a subtle shadow darkening her features.
“To be fair, I haven’t even met him yet. I can’t say for sure whether the guy is some creepy old man or not,” Catherine muttered, her mood souring again after a day spent under the oppressive weight of her family’s expectations. But after meeting Rose tonight, her spirits had slowly begun to lift.
Still, Rose had a point. There was no reason for her to surrender something as precious as her first time to someone she didn’t even know, let alone someone she had no choice in selecting.
In that moment, Catherine made a silent decision: just this once, she would take control of her own fate—she would choose her own partner!
Just as that thought crystallized in her mind, she looked up, and her gaze fell on a man who had just walked into the pub. His presence was commanding, his brow broad and noble, sharp eyes set beneath his well-defined brow. His nose was straight, his lips thin and perfectly shaped. On appearance alone, he would easily score at least an eighty out of a hundred. And then there was his height—he stood at least 180 centimeters tall, his build strong and athletic.
Before Catherine could dwell on the sight of the man, Rose suddenly tugged at her sleeve, snapping her back to the present. Catherine turned to see Rose looking distinctly uneasy.
“Catherine, how about staying at my place tonight? Though… you still remember the way, don’t you?” Rose’s voice was quiet, and her nervousness was palpable.
“Yeah, I remember,” Catherine replied, her mind still caught up in the man she’d just seen. “But… what’s going on?”
Rose’s eyes darted towards the entrance again, her movements jerky as if she were trying to avoid someone. Her unease was almost contagious, and Catherine’s own sense of curiosity piqued.
“I just ran into someone I really don’t want to see,” Rose admitted, slipping off the high barstool with an urgency that made it clear she was preparing to flee.
Catherine followed Rose’s gaze and immediately recognized a familiar face. “Wait, isn’t that…?”
She nearly called out the name, but before she could say another word, Rose pounced, covering Catherine’s mouth with her hand to silence her.
“Yes, it’s exactly who you think,” Rose whispered hurriedly, her tone fraught with tension. “But he and I… well, we don’t get along.”
Rose’s sudden explanation was followed by an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry, Catherine, but I have to go. If he catches me here, I’ll be in serious trouble!”
With that, Rose removed her hand and darted into the crowd like a shadow, disappearing from sight in a matter of seconds.
However, barely a minute or two passed before Catherine saw Rose again. This time, the man she had been avoiding had caught up to her. But contrary to Catherine’s expectations, there was no angry confrontation. Instead, the man pulled Rose into a tight embrace, pressing his lips to hers in a fierce, passionate kiss before half-dragging, half-guiding her out of the pub.
Catherine blinked in surprise. Just moments ago, she had been wondering how Rose had managed to get them into this exclusive, members-only pub. Now, she had her answer. But another question lingered in her mind—what exactly was the nature of Rose’s relationship with that man?
Whatever it was, it was clearly complicated, and Catherine couldn’t help but feel a pang of concern for her friend. Perhaps she would find time to ask Rose about it later, when things had calmed down. For now, though, Catherine was left alone with her thoughts.
Her contemplation was cut short by the bartender’s voice, breaking the brief silence.
“What can I get you tonight, Mr. Long?”
The bartender’s words dragged Catherine back to reality, and she blinked, startled by the sudden interruption of her wandering thoughts.
“The usual,” came a deep, smooth voice that sent an unexpected shiver down Catherine’s spine.
Her head turned reflexively towards the sound of that voice—and there he was, the man she had noticed earlier. He had taken a seat at the bar, only one chair separating the two of them.
Catherine’s heart skipped a beat, her mind racing as she registered his close proximity. The man exuded an effortless charm, his presence both magnetic and intimidating. From the corner of her eye, she could see the strong lines of his jaw, the way his fingers tapped the bar lightly as he waited for his drink.
The bartender wasted no time, swiftly preparing his order, but Catherine found herself frozen, unsure of what to do next. Should she say something? Introduce herself? Or perhaps, it was best to keep her distance and avoid drawing any attention to herself.
Before she could decide, the man turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes catching hers for the briefest moment. His gaze was intense, penetrating in a way that made Catherine’s breath hitch. But just as quickly as their eyes met, he looked away, seemingly disinterested.
Catherine swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She wasn’t used to feeling this flustered, especially not over a stranger. But there was something about him—something that drew her in, even though she barely knew him.
She glanced down at her drink, trying to focus on anything but the man beside her. But the tension in the air was undeniable, and Catherine couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was far from ordinary.
As she took another sip of her cocktail, she wondered what fate had in store for her next. Would she follow through on her decision to take control of her life? Would she find a way to break free from the chains of obligation that had been tightening around her?
And most importantly—who exactly was this mysterious man sitting so close, yet so far away?
- Writer
