#{ Aaaah I'm super excited to be able to kinda... expand a bit more on my version of Mika's character! }

[yuichiroswife]

✠ — MARRIAGE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A MAGICAL THING, joining together two loving people in holy matrimony with an eternal vow. Getting married was often something that a vast majority of people desired, yet very few were ever able to achieve such a status for various different reason: cheating on one's significant other, abuse of said significant other, abandonment of one's significant other — and so forth and so on. Yet... most couples wishing to tie the knot at least knew something about their destined significant other, often choosing to date and grow acquainted with one another before making such a bold decision — but alas, 'twas not the case for this marriage. Much like his mother's own fate, he too, had been petition for an arranged marriage in attempt to not only grow their family's status and power as what many would consider a mafia, it was also a desperate attempt to get Mikaela out of his shell and away from any anti-social tendencies he'd picked up along the way through his rather... precarious childhood. "It's time you stepped out of our family's shadow, Mikaela. As the sole heir to our enterprise, it's up to you to carry on our traditions and legacy. Marriage is part of that tradition. I've arranged a marriage between you and a Korean foreigner by the name of Min-Jun, surely he'll make for a fine husband. Не губи свои шансы, Микаэла, иначе будут последствия."

✠ — Thus here he was, PLACED INTO AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE WITH A MNA HE HAD NEVER MET ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE, never knowing whether or not he'll be walking into the same type of situation his mother is in (struggling from years of verbal abuse by the hands of his father's parents and older brothers) except what he feared for was the physical altercations. After all, he'd lived through enough of those thanks to his dear father. But alas, there was nothing that could be done about the situation other than to swallow his fears and put on a charming smile — the very same smile that his mother had taught him. He supposed that things could be worse. Most who married those they did not know ended up with people much older than them (and much uglier as well), but he had somehow gotten lucky in the department of looks, having stolen a few quick peeks at his husband-to-be before they had even been officially introduced.

✠ — BEING MADE TO WEAR RED, much like his father's ancestors during their marriages, because father was oh so particular about tradition, sporting a sarafan that was specifically tailored to his exact measurements (despite said garb usually being for women) all because his father believed such a thing would enhance Mikaela's already feminine features — hence securing him a guaranteed partner — meanwhile his hair was pulled back and pinned into a neatly pressed bun, head being adorned with a beaded crown of various colors (reds, whites, and golds) as a veil cascaded down his back and even obscured the sides of his face. To many, he was a magnificent sight to see and anyone lucky enough to take him as a bride was surely blessed by the gods themselves, but to others... many believed this wedding to be nothing but an attempt for Vladislav to shove his only child off onto someone else for being unable to live up to the family's standards.

✠ — After all, IT WASN'T LIKE MIKAELA WAS PARTICULARLY GOOD AT ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE SUPPOSED MORE WIFELY TASKS TO BEGIN WITH. He couldn't shoot a gun like his father or uncles, he couldn't stand the sight of blood to go hunting, he didn't like fighting or sparring of any kind, and he most certainly didn't enjoy overly taxing physical labor. All he could do was cook and clean and do laundry, but even then... he was certain he was nowhere as good as his mother with said tasks. Mikaela wasn't good for anything at all, but at least he knew he was attractive, and perhaps that was the only thing he had going for him?

✠ — TO MAKE MATTERS WORSE, he had somehow managed to drop a particularly expensive bottle of wine when attempting to retrieve it from the kitchen, glass crashing against the marbled floor and shooting off in all manner of directions causing the red liquid inside to spatter all over. Surely his husband-to-be would think him a fool for not even being able to bring a wine bottle back to the dinning chamber and he was more than certain his father would do more than yell at him for such an embarrassing display, thus why he quickly crouches down in attempt to pick up the scattered pieces of glass with one hand, using the other to lift the skirt of his sarafan just enough to prevent it from getting dirty — though the sudden sound of another's voice is quick to make him turn his head in the direction of the other in a rather startled manner (and cause him to cut his finger on one of the many shards).

✠ — "Min-jun," his voice comes forth in a worried manner, "опрости ми. Forgive me, I didn't mean to drop the wine. Please pay me no mind, I'll clean the mess as quickly as I can." HE'S QUICK TO STAND BACK UP IN THE PRESENCE OF HIS GROOM, hiding both his hands behind his back in the process. It probably isn't difficult to see that he was anxious about the entire situation, but that doesn't last for long once his brain processes Min-jun's previous statement — serving as more than enough to cause some color to rise in his cheeks. "Я не знаю, о чем ты говоришь. I don't know what you're talking about, Min-jun." Must you embarrass me so?

𝐌𝐈𝐍-𝐉𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐌, 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂̧𝐀𝐃𝐄, but his mind is racing all over the place with troubled thoughts. he has never attended a gathering like this. all of the birthdays or taoistic seances were usually done with only a handful of people, customarily his own relatives, transforming tonight's banquet into a beautifully set-up minefield. one wrong word, one wrong step is all it ever takes to blow everything out of proportion. min-jun knows that & tries to be exceptionally mindful tonight, though such is easier said than done when your bride-to-be is from a different country with an entirely different set of traditional values altogether.

he sighs a little sigh, surrounded by clinks of porcelain cups & idle chit-chats. the seemingly grandiose chamber into which mikaela's father brought them doesn't appear all that spacious anymore, like being ( politely ) thrust inside a very extravagant russian doll. min-jun is completely out of his depth here, sitting right at the center of this redundantly long dining table by which two families are also gathered, exchanging their equally redundant pleasantries over dinner. it's suffocating. he sincerely wishes for nothing more than to move on right now & just proceed with the wedding, but alas, etiquette. a groom must be composed & patient, & never forget to smile.

when jin-ho finally regards him, min-jun automatically turns his head & does just that, for once thankful for the haunting void inside his chest. ❝ yes, father? ❞ answering in a low, quiet tone, an emotion of happiness is forged just as the older man continues in his usual flamboyant flare, ❝ 가서 와인으로 사랑스러운 신부를 도와주는 게 어때요 ? ❞

❝ . . . . . ❞

that cheeky devil. min-jun doesn't know whether to be thankful or downright suspicious, but then again, who is he deny some private time with mikaela? giving a small nod, the young groom then turns towards all others & bows his head, politely excusing himself before getting up & exiting the lavish chamber. at long last some fresh air, he wordlessly muses while taking off his white veiled gat & amok the slow, nonchalant steps, inhale deeply, filling own lungs with much needed ice.

by the time min-jun finally arrives to the kitchen, the poor bride-to-be already managed to smash one of the expensive wine bottles by accident, making the groom ever so subtly smile just as he leans against the wooden doorframe, crossing arms underneath own muscled chest. ❝ you really know how to make a man feel thirsty.... don't you... ? ❞ whether these softly spoken words were regarding the spilled wine or mikaela himself, is only a guess.

@yuichiroswife || ♡'d starter.