When Shaun Kim Lee, the twenty-six-year-old son of an ex-senator gets involved in one of the framed scandals, his parents decide to ignite a proposal to distract the media from ruining their reputation to ashes.
Lee doesn't want to get married to a...
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SHIN
When you don't think.
You do the unthinkable.
For instance, When Lee took an eternity to retire from the washroom, with a tense knuckle I knocked at the door. When I failed to receive a reply- I scream over and over. Shouting his humble name to get him out. After I showered, he had immediately sauntered off to kick start the day. he vanished since then. He wasn't a long shower taker, contrary to the popular belief that handsome beings take a herculean time to pamper themselves. Lee and I were abnormally easy with our routines.
But not today.
Though the bathroom with high floor jacuzzi, a chair, and an LED monitor was to die far. We seldom utilized any of it. So far at least. But today- I heard the stereo rage through what was behind the wall. The bass beats bounced faintly as I touched the door.
"LEE"
No answer.
"SHAUN KIM LEE"
The noise increased drastically.
"PLEASE THROW THE BAG OF MAKEUP AT MY FACE AND KINDLY RESUME WHAT YOU ARE DOING"
The music didn't perish, but thankfully the door got yanked open. I collect myself from lurching forward as I had been dramatically leaning by the plank of wood to get my message across. But what I wasn't doing was- a decent job of keeping my mouth shut as he stood there with an untied bathrobe. The steamy abs exposed for an uncalled reason. His belted trouser hung by the hip line. I don't glance at his face immediately- mistake to not be made as such in future must be noted. Because Lee was as unforgiving as he is in norms. They must be very little fibs that he could tease me about later. I can't afford more.
"That's a good physique right there" craning my neck I muster an appreciative nod. I can't let him know I was affected- not a least bit. His lips quirk into a vague smirk. He raised a remote above his head, when he pressed at a button. The music stops.
"How do I know this is a façade?" he pokes my left cheek with his index "They are turning red"
Swatting his hand I walk in, the giant mirror by the sink provides me an access to track him- he arrived and stood behind me. A goofy grin nurturing his humor. Accidently I glance in the forbidden path once more. Gaining a chuckle and shake of the head from him. When I pick the bag of makeup to take it along-
"If you leave now, you are only going to prove me right. You are flustered aren't you?"
For a moment, our gaze lock through the reflection. He then ambles to the seater next to the steamer- tying the white towel robe he sat down with his side facing me, All while a dusty smile plays across his lips. His policies were self-centered but seldom came across as conceited. If anything, he seems to pledge with facts more than forcing an opinion. He was never wrong.
