Mute girl

"What do you mean?" He turned to me, a mischievous grin dancing across his face. Was he messing with me for real?

"What's wrong with you?" I yelled.

"What's wrong with me?" He pointed to himself, then stroked his chin, as if contemplating something. "Hmmm... says the girl who barged into my room without knocking and caught me half-naked."

"Y—You— Oh, shit." I cursed under my breath. My words got caught in my throat; he was right, but still. "I needed to use the restroom," I defended, instinctively stepping back until I was beside the bed. He retrieved a small towel and began to dry his wet hair with it.

"I wasn't aware my room had a restroom sign on it."

His sarcastic tone grated on my nerves, and I tightened my grip on the light stick. "Just shut up!" I yelled, holding the stick in a defensive stance. "I should be the one asking questions here."

His gaze shifted to my hand, and his expression turned into a frown. "What are you doing with that?" he inquired, referring to the light stick. Internally cursing myself, I sighed, realizing I was still holding onto it.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," I stammered as he grabbed the light stick from my grip, watching as he gently placed the light stick back on the shelf. "I didn't know you were a fan of Blackpink."

He paused, his gaze distant. "I'm not. This belongs to my sister. She's a huge fan," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice, yet firm. I hadn't heard about him having any siblings; he was often reported as the only child. Considering his family's fame, it was curious that he'd have a sister he hadn't mentioned. Perhaps he was just shy about admitting he was a fan himself. "You shouldn't touch other people's things," he scolded, his voice stern.

"I said I'm sorry. But you also owe me an apology. You stood me up on our 'date,'" I emphasized the word with air quotes.

"Something came up."

"Why didn't you pick up my calls? A simple text would'vebeen enough. You even ghosted me. You ruined my night, and now I hear you've been transferred?"

"Hey." He walked closer, placing his hand on my tense shoulder. "If you keep acting this way, people might start thinking we're actually in a relationship." He teased, stepping back with a grin. "I had no idea you cared so much about me."

"I don't. I just want to make sure our deal is still on."

"Of course it is. I started it, so it's only right that I finish it."

"Then why did Owen say you were transferred?" I demanded an explanation.

He sighed, draping the small towel which he had been using earlier to dry his hair around his neck. "Just take a moment and listen to yourself. How could I have transferred schools a week before exams? Does that even make sense?" He stared at me, his expression blank.

He was right; it was illogical for him to transfer so abruptly, especially right before exams. "But Owen said so. That's why I'm here."

"I thought you were smart. If you were, you'd have realized I was lying." He stated matter-of-factly. "I only said that to get you to come here. It seems to have worked. I knew no girl could resist my charm."

"Don't flatter yourself." I rolled my eyes. "I didn't come here out of concern for you. Why would I be? I'm still really angry about what you did to me. So don't let your ego inflate."

"Fine, I apologize for that. I genuinely do. Some things are just better left unsaid. But I'll make it up to you. Again." He offered, his voice holding a sincerity that was hard to ignore. Despite my anger, there was something about the way he spoke that calmed my nerves. Perhaps it was the relatability or the genuine quality in his voice. I knew I shouldn't give in too easily, but then again, what did I have to lose?

"Fine," I muttered, my resolve giving in a little. His smile widened.

"Now that's settled. Excuse me, I need some privacy, or else you won't be able to resist seeing my other half," he chuckled, pushing me gently towards the door.

"Wait," I said, nearly colliding into his bare chest before I managed to stop myself.

"What is it?"

"Does Samantha know anything about this?" I asked, and I could feel his lips curling into a faint smile, as if he knew something.

"So predictable," he remarked, leaving me puzzled. Was this part of his plan to gain Samantha's attention?

"Hey Owen," Jake called, diverting my attention to him. He now stood before us, his gaze shifting from me to Jake's. "You did great," Jake praised Owen before pushing me towards him.

"Keep her under control until I'm dressed," he said, shutting the door in my face.

"The restroom is that way." Owen pointed to another door just opposite the one I had entered.

I let out a sigh, feeling rather foolish, and muttered, "Thanks."

I walked out of the restroom after I was all done, my footsteps slow as I made my way down the stairs "Owen." I called. My wording echoed in this huge mansion. It was empty and felt so depressing.

As my gaze shifted across the living, I stopped when I found a little girl sitting in one of the couch with her head down. As I moved closer I noticed she was rather scribbling away on a piece of paper, her attention fully focused with different pencils and markers or different colors scattered of the marble floor.

I took a step forward, the sound of my footstep screeched on the floor. This got her attention quickly her gaze shifted up, her doe brown eyes locked at mine.

Wait, could this be jakes sister? I was confused yet a part of me was disappointed that Jake wasn't a black pink fan.

"Hey," I waved giving her a warm smile. But she just started at me, her expression blank causing me to slowing put my hand down, feeling a little embarrassed.

My lips twisted to the side, my fingers intertwined as I started at this little girl. The longer I started the more I could spot the similarities she and Jake shared.

They had the same brown eyes and dark brown hair, only hers was longer, just below her shoulders. "What are you drawing? Can I see?" I stretched my hands forwards. Taking further steps before sitting beside her and her gaze slowing followed me still staring directly into my eyes. She wasn't saying anything and this made me feel uncomfortable like I was doing something wrong.

I cleared my throat and quickly, shifted my gaze to the paper on her lap but what I saw caused my brow to furrow with a frown settling on my face. It was a drawing of a child locked in a cage. "Who is that?" I questioned concern evident in my voice. I tried to grab a hold of the paper to get a closer look but her grip tightened around it and she shook her head repeatedly. Was she mute? Why wasn't she talking?

My heart raced faster than normal, this young girl was mostly the same age as my younger brother. I would be dreedly worried if I come across him doing something like that.

She was persistent, refusing to give the paper up until she successfully pulled it from my grip and hurriedly ran to the other couch.

I wanted to take a step closer to this little kid, I was an older sibling and my instinct was kicking in. Something wasn't right but then I stopped, hearing his heavy footsteps echoing on the marble floor. He was now dressed in a plain white long-sleeved shirt and loose pants. But what struck me was the cold, unreadable expression on his face as he stared at us.

"Oh my!" The older lady from earlier walked into the room, her hand flying to her mouth as shock painted her features, though she tried to hide it. She hurried over to the little girl and lifted her into her arms. "I apologize. She shouldn't be in here."

"I don't mind," I attempted to reassure her. I was okay with the little girl's presence.

She continued to walk out of the room, muttering phrases like, "I told you not to leave your room." She appeared panicked by the little girl being outside her room, and I was left puzzled as to why. My focus returned to Jake, who had his hands tucked into his pockets, avoiding the gaze of the little girl, her outstretched hands begging for his attention. He didn't respond until they were out of sight.