Contract Marriage 18+ [A Hopekook Fanfiction] ✓

4.2🥀

"Absolutely stunning..."

She blinked.

"Oh," was all she could think of to say and he came further into the room, still so riveted on her hair and face that he very nearly tripped over a small footstool placed beside an easy chair. He frowned down at the offending piece of furniture before sinking down into the leather easy chair opposite the matching sofa Hobie was curled up on.

"Uh..." he dragged his gaze down to the book in her lap and seemed strangely desperate to make conversation. "What are you reading?" His sharp eyes honed in on the title before he raised his gaze to hers in consternation. "Dogs?" He sounded so insultingly nonplussed that she hugged the book defensively to her chest.

"I happen to like dogs," she said fiercely and his strangely gentle gaze swept over her tight features before coming to a rest on the book she had clutched to her chest. He leaned forward and extended his right hand palm up.

"May I?" He kept his gaze steady until she reluctantly let up on the death grip she had on the book and handed it over to him. "Thank you." He leaned back and flipped through the glossy pages, pausing here and there before grinning almost boyishly up at her. He looked so breathtakingly handsome that for a long moment she didn't realise that he was talking to her.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," she whispered and his grin widened as he flipped the book toward her, tapping his long index finger on the picture of a grinning black Labrador retriever.
"I had one just like this," he informed and she frowned.

"One what?" She asked blankly and his grin widened into a fully-fledged, devastatingly appealing smile.

"Dog," he informed patiently, turning the book back towards himself. His expression was gently reminiscent. "I like dogs too... the way I see it, anyone who doesn't like dogs is not to be trusted. My retriever was called Rocco. He died just before I started university. I'd had him for sixteen years. I suppose you could say that I grew up with him." She smiled reluctantly at his obvious affection for what must have been a well-loved pet.

"You must have had a dog too, growing up?" He prompted and she nodded slowly. "What breed?"

"She was a bit of a mutt," Hobie whispered, more than a little reluctant to continue.

"What was her name?" Why was he being so damned persistent?

"Doryi," she supplied, her voice going even quieter and his smile faded as he leaned forward intently, his eyes fixed on her downcast face.

"Tell me more," he invited quietly.

"Nothing much to tell," she shrugged, clearing her throat. "My mother took me to the SPCA for my eleventh birthday and told me to choose any dog I wanted. I'd been going on and on about getting a dog for months before that, promising that I would take good care of it. It was getting to the point where, I guess, she would have done anything to shut me up. So I chose Doryi, with her soulful brown eyes, her scruffy black and white coat and her happy, wagging tail." He smiled slightly at that and so did she. "She wasn't much to look at but I adored her." She sighed heavily before stopping and shrugging, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. "Time to get ready for that dinner now, isn't it?" He frowned before shaking his head.

"How long did you have your dog?" He asked softly in a tone of voice that said he wouldn't rest until he knew everything and Hobie tugged at her full lower lip with her teeth.

"About three weeks," he smothered a soft curse at the whispered confession.

"What happened?"

"Mom and Daddy didn't agree on most things and apparently my getting a dog was yet another excuse to fight. Getting Doryi was Mom's way of scoring points against Daddy and getting rid of Doryi was Daddy's way of scoring points against Mom," she strove to sound flippant but the tremor in her voice made a liar out of her. Jeon said nothing but he seemed to be struggling with something, his jaw was so tightly clenched that she could see the little muscles knotting just below his ears and his knuckles showed white where his grip had tightened on the book.

"What did he do to the dog?" He finally gritted out, sounding like he was chewing nails.

"I never knew for sure," she confessed. "Mom said Doryi went to a new family and was happy with them. But I don't know... I always feared that he took her back to the pound." Despite her best intentions, tears of long-remembered pain flooded her eyes and she averted her gaze and tilted her chin in an effort to appear casual. "I couldn't sleep for the longest time afterwards, imagining how confused Doryi must have been and on the really bad nights I pictured them taking her into the vet's surgery to be put down... because even though I loved her, she really wasn't cute, or clever or all that special. If she went back to the pound, I don't think she would have gone to another home."

"You mustn't think like that," he admonished.

"I know. Never mind, it's so far in the past that the wound has healed long ago. Not even a scar," his intent gaze told her that he didn't believe a word of it but fortunately he didn't challenge her on it. He handed her book back to her and she took it with a nod, making sure to avoid all contact with his large hands. He noticed the evasion and, while his eyes narrowed, he chose not to say anything about it.

"So how casual is this business thing?" She asked, getting up carefully, not wanting another revealing attack of dizziness in front of him.

"Extremely casual," he responded. "Jeans, t-shirt and jacket will do."

"You mean I had my hair done for nothing?" She frowned, rather disgruntled that she wouldn't be showing off her new look in the best possible setting.

"I hardly think it was for nothing," he protested with another one of those rare, breathtaking smiles of his. "I think the result was well worth the effort. I loved your long hair, hobie, but this new chic, sleek little cut... words fail me... you look..." he shook his head and in a quintessentially Korean gesture, raised his fingertips to his lips and kissed them to signify his approval. For some reason that struck Hobie as funny and she stifled a giggle with her hand. Her eyes, above the hand she held over her mouth, were iridescent with laughter and he stood for a long moment, simply staring at her, before he cleared his throat.

"Go on, Hobie," he prompted gently.

"Get ready. Meet me down here in half an hour?" She nodded at the question in his voice.