Destined

03

Haru

17 years old

Two weeks later, in Los Angeles, California.

There is an arm draped over me and my head is pounding. I think that's the last time I drank too much alcohol. My sister always called me a lightweight. Visions from the night two weeks ago haunt me, and I groan.

"Look, Lyn-" I cut off and cleared my throat.

She nods, looking at me with sweet eyes, "Yes, Haru?" There was still a faint blush on her cheeks.

"You aren't going to like what I have to say." I said, shaking my head.

"It's okay, you can tell me anything; we're going to be husband and wife, you and I," she grabs my hands and holds them in hers.

I cleared my throat once again, "yeah, that's what I wanted to talk about," I paused, looking down at our hands entwined, "I don't think I can-" I was cut off, not knowing how to put it nicely.

She nods encouragingly, squeezing my hand, and I know with that gesture that she deserves so much better.

"I don't think I can love you like a husband is supposed to love his wife," I said as I let go of her hands and looked at her face.

Her eyes widen and she seems shocked, speechless. "I—why?"

I run my hand through my hair, "it's not because of you." Youʻre amazing and any man would be lucky to have you, but I-I just donʻt think I could-" I trail off.

"Oh," she says, her voice sounding far away.

I sincerely apologize; "I'm so sorry," I'm sorry, "it's just that I-"

She cuts me off, shaking her head, "no, it's okay. I understand. After all, this is an arranged marriage," she says with a forced smile. She quickly makes her way up the stairs.

I let out a frustrated breath, heading towards the kitchen and filling a glass with vodka and downing it whole.

Well, fuck me. I roll over, pushing an arm off of me, to realize that there is another person in my bed. Heʻs naked and his hair is messy, falling over his eyes. My eyes widen and I scramble into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Well, it looks like someone already did.

A sense of panic rushes over me and I have the urge to bang my head against the wall. I'm engaged to be married, and I just fucked a man. That's cheating, right? I mean, it's an arranged marriage, but still. Lyn deserves better than this. Iʻm so stup-

My thoughts are cut off, "What are you doing? Come back to bed. " He says sleepily. The light peaking through the curtain shines on him, his eyes slightly open. I get a warm feeling at the sight of it. He smiles a warm smile and reaches for me, but I turn away.

"What happened last night?" I asked, feeling my heart beating too quickly. His hand grazes my shoulder, and I shiver at the touch.

He trails kisses against my back, but I don't pull away. "I've loved you for a long time," he says, his voice filled with pain and longing.

"I'm going to be married soon," I say, my voice shaking.

He puts his hands on my shoulders, turning me so I'm facing him. "I know," he whispers sadly. He starts to speak slowly, "Remember when I was ten and you were nine and we were being chased by those guys with guns?"

I nod and he continues, "We were both bloody and I was panicking, I was about ready to give up and let them kill us. They were backing us into a corner, but you grabbed my shoulders and said, "We'll find a way," and then pushed me behind you, holding my gun and knife in both hands. You shot two of them and threw a knife into one of their heads," he smiled wistfully, "I knew then that I liked you more than a friend."

"I--," his lips met mine, preventing me from finishing my sentence.

"We will find a way," he said, pulling me back into bed with him.

This was the reason I couldn't love Lyn. How could I possibly love another when I already love someone else? How could I love someone that I could never love?