When Smyle Wakes Up
Smyle woke up slowly.
Not because he wanted to—
but because his head hurt.
A dull, heavy ache sat behind his eyes, like fog pressing against his skull.
His throat was dry.
His body felt… wrong.
Heavy. Weak.
He blinked once.
Then again.
The ceiling above him wasn't his.
Panic rushed through his chest.
He tried to sit up—but his muscles barely listened.
His breath came uneven.
"W–what…?"
His voice sounded small. Broken.
Then he felt it.
The pain ... Just… signs.
His clothes were not same . He was wearing a rob and it was so wrinkled, like it had been touched too much.
His neck felt warm—sensitive.
Smyle's fingers trembled as he reached up.
There.
A faint mark.
His breath hitched violently.
Then he looked down to his chest, his arms, his body ... It was full of marks that's he don't even remember where it came from ..
"No… no no no…"
Memories didn't come back clearly.
Only fragments.
Rayden's presence.
His voice—low, close.
Hands that didn't ask. That kisses that hard moans ...
Smyle squeezed his eyes shut.
Tears leaked out anyway.
He remembered being dizzy.
Being unable to push away properly.
Being held while his body refused to cooperate.
Nothing clear.
The bathroom door opened.
Steam drifted out.
Rayden stepped into the room, hair damp, sleeves rolled up.
Calm. Untouched. Like nothing had happened.
Smyle's nails dug into the mattress.
"You—"
His voice cracked.
"You drugged me. And did t-that..?!?"
Rayden didn't deny it but he didn't accept either.
He walked closer, slow, controlled.
"You wouldn't have come to me willingly," he said calmly.
"So I helped."
Smyle's eyes burned.
"You're sick."
Rayden stopped beside the bed.
He leaned down— "yeah if it's for you.. then Iam sick."
He lifted his chin up~
"You're alive. You're safe," Rayden murmured.
"I didn't break you."
Smyle flinched like he'd been burned.
"Don't touch me."
Rayden straightened.
For a second—just one—something dark flickered in his eyes.
"You're my wife now," he said quietly.
"You should learn to stop saying that."
He turned away, adjusting his watch like this was just another morning.
"I'll be downstairs. Take a shower and come down."
The door closed.
Smyle stared at it.
Then he curled into himself.
Tears soaked the pillow as his hands shook violently.
Smyle (in his mind):
I hate you.
I hate you so much.
I will never forgive you.
And somewhere deep inside—
beneath the fear—
something colder began to form.
Not love.
Not acceptance.
But survival.
Morning light crept in through the tall glass windows—cold, pale, unforgiving.
Smyle sat at the dining table, hands wrapped tightly around a cup of untouched coffee.
His head still hurt.
Not the sharp kind—
the dull, heavy kind that made his thoughts feel slow and thick.
He hated that feeling.
Across the table, Rayden sat comfortably, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up. He looked… normal. Like nothing had happened.
The sound of cutlery scraping against the plate made Smyle flinch.
Rayden noticed.
"You didn't eat," he said calmly, as if commenting on the weather.
Smyle laughed under his breath. Bitter. Hollow.
"Scared you might drug it again?"
Rayden's fork paused—just for a second.
Then he continued eating.
"I needed you," he replied. " you'll never know how much I was craving you."
Smyle's fingers clenched so hard his nails dug into his skin.
"So you decided for me? Ohh well you will ! Because for you iam just a toy" he snapped, voice shaking despite himself.
"You always get what you want right? You never care about what other wants "
Rayden finally looked at him.
Not angry.
Not guilty.
Possessive.
"You were panicking," he said quietly. "You were crying. You wouldn't stop shaking."
Smyle's breath hitched.
"That doesn't give you the right," he whispered. "To touch me. To—"
Rayden leaned back in his chair, eyes darkening.
"I didn't hurt you."
Smyle slammed his palm on the table.
"That's not the point!"
The room fell silent again.
Rayden stood, walking around the table slowly—unhurried, controlled. Smyle's body tensed as he stopped beside him.
Rayden bent slightly, his voice low, near Smyle's ear.
"You're alive. You're safe. And you're here."
Smyle turned his face away, jaw trembling.
"I hate you."
Rayden straightened.
"I know."
He placed a plate in front of Smyle—toast, fruit, something warm and normal.
"You still need to eat."
Smyle stared at the food like it was a threat.
"I'm not your toy," he said quietly. "You can't break me and expect me to smile in the morning."
Rayden paused by the window.
"I don't want your smile," he said.
"I want you breathing. Obedient or angry—doesn't matter."
Smyle's eyes burned.
Rayden glanced back once more.
"Finish breakfast," he said.
"We have a long day ahead."
Smyle said loudly: "no I won't eat! That's my body not yours !"
Rayden didn't say anything and went outside.
Smyle though maybe rayden left and he is free to do whatever he wants, but then-
His phone ringed (sound of msg)
A**hole : ( Rayden's name in Smyle's phone) : all rooms have camera's except bathroom and if you don't eat I'll come back. And if you stay in bathroom more then 1 hr I'll install the cameras over there too . That's fun !
Smyle stared at the phone.
With anger he sighed : "hahh , okey i've got no other option. "
He picked up the fork slowly, like it weighed a thousand kilos. Took one bite. Chewed.
His eyes got widen (from shock ) because it tasted damn good. He ate like a small boy .
"Happy now?" he muttered to the empty room.
When Rayden returned an hour later, Smyle was still at the table. Plates all finished. Eyes sleepy.
Rayden stopped when he saw it.
"You ate," he said.
Smyle didn't look up. "I'm not doing it because you told me to."
Rayden's lips tugged to a small smile .
"Good," he replied. "Do it because you want to survive."
Smyle's looking above : "shutup!! i am not afraid of you or something "
"You don't own my body," he said quietly. "You can lock doors. You can control space. But you don't get me."
Rayden leaned against the counter, studying him.
"That confidence," he said calmly, "is dangerous in my world."
Smyle finally looked at him. Eyes sharp now.
" Iam not afraid of danger , fix it in mind . You're not scary to mee ..(more like a morron ) he mumbled."
Rayden smiled.
Not cruel. Not soft.
Interested.
"Good," he said. "I didn't marry someone weak."
And Smyle realized something then— this wasn't about breaking him anymore.
This was about control vs resistance.
And for the first time since the wedding—
Smyle decided:
> If I can't escape yet…
I'll learn how to survive him.
AT NIGHT: The Event Where He Lost His Calm
The hall was glowing.
Soft golden lights. Crystal chandeliers. Quiet classical music playing in the background.
It was one of those elite events— business, art, money, power.
And Smyle felt completely out of place.
He stood near one of the pillars, hands clasped together, wearing a simple but elegant outfit Rayden had chosen for him.
Nothing flashy. Nothing loud.
Still… people noticed.
Too much.
"Relax," Rayden murmured beside him, voice low.
"You look like you're about to run."
Smyle side-eyed him. "Because this isn't my world."
Rayden smirked. "Tonight, it is."
Before Smyle could reply, someone approached.
A man—young, confident, smiling politely.
"Excuse me," he said, eyes on Smyle.
"I don't think we've met. I'm Felix."
Smyle blinked, surprised. "Oh—uh, Smyle."
Felix smiled wider. "You're an artist, right? I heard you play piano too."
Smyle's face lit up instantly. "Yeah! I mean—kinda . I was in band from high school to 1st year of university."
Rayden went still.
Very still.
Felix continued, unaware. "I'd love to hear you play sometime. Maybe at the next event?"
Smyle laughed softly. "That would be nice."
That's when Rayden stepped in.
An arm slipped around Smyle's waist—not rough, not tight—just claiming.
"Careful," Rayden said calmly, eyes cold on Felix.
"You're talking to my husband."
The word landed heavy.
Felix froze. "Oh—confirmed? Sorry. I didn't know."
Rayden smiled.
It wasn't friendly.
"You do now."
Felix excused himself quickly.
Smyle turned to Rayden, eyes wide. "What was that?!"
Rayden looked down at him. "You were smiling too much."
Smyle scoffed. "You don't own my smile."
Rayden leaned closer, voice low enough only Smyle could hear. "No. But I notice who you give it to."
Smyle crossed his arms. "You're jealous."
Rayden didn't deny it.
Instead, he said quietly, "You shine when you talk about music.
I don't like strangers seeing that."
Smyle stared at him for a second. Then- "WTF- is wrong with you ?!? Why are you even being jealous? It's just an contract marriage you forced me to do ! Iam just doing this for our deal that we made this evening.
( DEAL LAST NIGHT: Rayden and Smyle made a deal that if Smyle will play along with him as clingy husband he'll pay him and it was a great amount of money... Rayden thought that maybe his Obsession over him will get over soon )
Rayden raised a brow. "Enjoying this?"
"A little," Smyle admitted.
"Because now I know something about you ."
"What?"
Smyle looked up at him, eyes bright. "You're a good actor aren't you ?."
Rayden exhaled slowly. "You're-."
Smyle grinned. "yeahh i know iam genius ."
Rayden smirked : "are you crazy or something? Hahh!"