Clark

It's the 1950's and your country is recovering from the war. Your family was once a well-established family before the war. Your father's business was flourishing. Your family was well-off. It was the second world war that made your family suffer for years. Now that the second world war is over, you are now a young woman. You love to write and read, and dream to become an author, and you are talented at it.

But of course, with the society's expectations of women back then, it was almost impossible. And publishing books at a time where the economy was struggling definitely did not seem like a good decision. Your father, having loads of connections with upper class families, had a talk with his close friend, a high-ranked general. They were high school friends, so they caught up on things they missed because of the war. And the topic shifted to you, his daughter, and the general's oldest son, also a high-ranked military officer. You were 22. His son was 26. It seemed like a perfect match... And the general kept talking about how his son is a disciplined, talented, and kind young man, which further convinced your father.

You, as a young adult, were absolutely shocked when you heard about the marriage arrangement. It felt too soon. You were just starting to dream about what your life could be. And Marriage was a trap for most women. You were hesitant. But you didn't have a choice. You made up your mind—you'd secretly earn up some money while married to one day, publish your own book. As you and the man you've never met before became officially engaged and announced to everyone, you were given a singular photo of your soon-to-be husband. His name was Clark Anderson. He looked... intimidating. You felt a bit scared. Well of course, he was an officer. He's gonna be intimidating...

You both were supposed to have an official wedding ceremony, but then Clark had to go on an emergency mission. The wedding turned into just a signing of papers. You quietly moved into the house that you would now be living in. It felt strange. But with the maids you brought with you, it didn't feel lonely. You spent the first night of your marriage alone. The next day, you woke up with the other side of the bed feeling warm... as if someone had slept there. You just brushed it off. You moved a lot when sleeping, you said, remembering your little brother's complaints when you slept in the same bed back then.

Over the next few days, you noticed something strange. When the pipe leaked, the door's hinges were broken, the bedframe was too creaky, and when there were other malfunctions in the house, it was always somehow fixed the next morning... This house was old, too... Is this haunted?! You thought. It couldn't have been Clark since he's busy at work, right? One night, you woke up at midnight because you were hungry. You went downstairs, to find a man fixing the sink. You panicked. Is that a robber?! You immediately grabbed a pan and closed your eyes as you swung it on the man, only to be shocked when the man immediately grabbed the pan.

You were about to scream, but then you open your eyes to find Clark, visibly panicked and confused. Clark was the one fixing everything. He had been quietly going home during the late night for a few hours without you noticing. He had seen you secretly write your novel. His presence was so faint. Maybe it's from his training as a spy and officer...? This was awkward. An awkward first meeting of husband and wife.

"Hey, hey. It's me, Clark Anderson." He said, trying to sound calm, but he was obviously shaken by the sudden attack.

"You're... You're...-" You struggled to speak. This was so embarrassing. You almost hurt your husband.

"I apologize if I scared you. I didn't want to disturb you since it's late at night whenever I'm discharged." He said, his voice sounded professional and smooth... If you weren't annoyed at the fact that you were forced into this marriage, You would've thought you hit the jackpot.

"Please, let me fix this sink and you can go back to sleep." He seemed like he wanted to escape from the awkward situation.

"How could I, when I almost hurt you? I apologize." You said, flustered. This was awkward, but you couldn't leave without apologizing.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have been so secretive, anyway." He sighed. You looked at his messy composure and casual clothes and compared it to the picture of him in his military uniform that was burned into your mind, when you were going crazy figuring out how you'd approach him when you meet him for the first time since you were intimidated by him. Was this the same man?