ᴀʙᴅɪᴛᴏʀʏ || baek kyung

No, Jia Doesn't Have Pudgy Fingers. You are Mistaken.

No, Jia Doesn't Have Pudgy Fingers. You are Mistaken.

Jia had tried everything to take the ring off her right hand but it hadn't budged at all. Her finger had turned an angry red and the pain was the only indication that she wasn't hallucinating the goddamned wedding certificate laid out in front of her on the kitchen top. The other ring, the one that matched Kyung's, lay on top of the laminated piece of paper.

Jia didn't know which one was the ring ring. And frankly, neither she nor Kyung were in the state to think too hard without feeling as if their brains would dribble out their ears. But something told her against her will that it was the matching one.

The two had thrown on whatever clothes they could find first and hurried back down to conjure up a way out of this disastrous problem they had drunk themselves into. Jia still had smudged mascara around the corner of her eyes. The remnants of her favourite lipstick had stained the nape of Kyung's neck but he had been too stressed to pay attention to it.

"Crayon," Jia said in horror, "My wedding certificate—the only one I'll ever sign—has been signed in fucking crayon."

Kyung didn't look at her, still eyeing the rings with a blank look on his face, "The only one?"

"I'm being super optimistic because I love you and I don't want to be with anyone else."

"That's good to know."

"Crayon—ugh, why won't it come off!" Jia pulled at the ring on her hand, crying in pain as it refused to move.

Taking her hand in both of his to make her stop, Kyung examined the furious mark that had resulted, "Let it be. We'll figure something out. Maybe your hands are too big for—"

"No," she shrugged him off and laughed a sardonic laugh, pointing at him, "No, no, no, no. You said I had small fingers!"

He couldn't recall jackshit. "I never said that."

"Yes, you did," Jia made her way frantically to the living room, "You did at the hospital and you don't get to say no. Especially when your mother's ring is stuck on my small and dainty finger." She stuck out her ring finger as if she was flipping him off and turned away only for her eyes to freeze on the floor. Very stiffly, she bent down to pick up the sky blue lace dress, the one she had nearly tripped on earlier, and choked, "This is a wedding dress."

Kyung's neck turned so fast that it was a miracle it didn't snap. "A what?"

"I bought a fucking dress," she held the fabric over her grey shirt, letting the gown fall to see how it looked on her. Her back hunched and her voice cracked as she crushed the dress close to her chest, "It's beautiful and I bought it for a wedding I can't, for the life of me, remember."

Jia covered her face with her hand, sobbing quietly. When Kyung tried to comfort her, she leaned away. "I don't want to do this," she shook her head vehemently, wiping away the tears as she wept, "I can't—I don't want to be your—" the existence of the word 'wife' seemed to physically hurt her, "I don't want it."

"What?"

She ignored the hurt in his voice, mercilessly bunching up the dress into a ball. The action was so unlike her. "We can get the—the..." just the thought of saying 'marriage' seemed to make her sick as well, "we can get this annulled."

Kyung clasped her hand to interrupt her, "Jia, there are conditions for an annulment."

"It's not like they're going to do an examination, Kyung," she swatted him away, distracted, "Nobody's going to know we fucked."