Star Mashed Lovers

It was a meeting destined by the stars.

”Oh our son’s Star Sign is Taurus, I heard that your daughter’s star sign is Capricorn. Don’t you think they would make the absolute perfect couple?” A mother said.

”You’re right! Let’s get the marriage papers out right now!” Another mother said.

”Splendid, how about we go golfing over the weekend to celebrate our children’s marriage?” A father said.

”Ho ho, indeed, what a wonderful idea.” Another father said,

And just like that, the bond of marriage was formed between the two of them. Without ever knowing the other party’s name or face, the young lady was arranged to share the same last name as a young lad based purely off of the dates of their birth.

At least that was how Yule imagined that that was how the conversation went. She had heard rumors about that particular family’s heavy beliefs in superstitions, hiring diviners and astrologians to advise them on their business practices. But who would have expected them to seek out her family based on what was foretold from throwing a bone into a fire?

In reality, there were many other factors that led to this particular outcome, but it might as well have been based off of star symbols. After all, despite her family’s lack of superstitious beliefs, they still essentially put the girl up for sale to the highest bidder.

The whole process ended up being rushed as all hell also. The act of dropping down on one knee? Purchasing a wedding cake? Writing the vows? Even seeing the face of the other party? All those things were either skipped or preplanned by the being we call parents as the young girl was promptly shoved down the aisle as business partners and hawkers sat on both ends of the aisle, cheering at the spectacle.

The whole thing was entirely a blur. So much so that the only thing Yule could remember from the whole ordeal was the throwing of rice before she was promptly thrown in the backseat of a car, delivered to the door of a 3 story house she’d have to call her new home, and is now seated on the couch a meter away from the groom.

Yule blinked a few times, trying to clear her head up from needless thoughts during this. Even if she has many choice words to say, there’s no need to say them to the person besides her. After all, he’s just as much of a victim in this circumstance as she is? Given how the events played out, he probably got pulled along by his parents and was forcefully thrust upon her as well.

His name was Mateo, she thinks to herself, remembering the name stated from the mouth of the priest ordaining the ceremony.

Yule took another look at him. The last one she got was at the altar, and that experience was muddied by “the everything” that was happening around them.

He had black hair, slicked back as it let her get a good look at his chiseled face. His eyes were a deep blue, it reminded her of an ocean—not of the pristine waters that were carried by the waves, but of its dark depths where the currents lie. His face chiseled, firm but somehow feels a little hollow.

Appearance wise, there wasn’t anything that she could find issue with. Well, not like she was trying to find issues in the first place, rather it’d be great if she didn’t find any issues.

Thus, she decided to hold her disgruntlement with the entire situation in her heart and bottle it down. Taking a deep breathe, she closes her eyes to sort out her feelings—resolving to clear the air between the two of them in order to turn this situation for the best.

”So…” She claps her hands together to break the silence, putting on a big bright smile in order to get a good first impression across to the other party. After all, she doesn’t want to make the situation more difficult that in already is. “I know this isn’t the way you usually start out a marriage, but how about we try to get along—”

”There’s only one bedroom in this house. You can use it for now, I’ll be sleeping in the studio.” His voice was cold, his words short and to the point, moreso giving an assignment rather than having a discussion.

Being interrupted, she opens and closes her mouth like a fish as she tries to get a word in. ”That’s kind of you, but I—“

”The bathroom is over on the right—you can put your toiletries wherever. The bathroom door has had trouble locking, so keep it open when it’s free.”

”Good to know…but—“

”You’re free to use anything else in the house, just don’t come into the studio, or knock on my door, or make any loud noises. I won’t bother you, and you don’t bother me. Got it?” 

”Hang on a second, what if I need to talk to you? How about we exchange contact info? Here, let me add your phone.” As she reaches into her purse in order to pull out her phone, right as she’s about to swipe up—

**SLAM**

The sound of the door hitting the doorframe resounds throughout the building as her phone drops onto the ground, hitting the white carpet with a more subdued thudding noise.

As she turns her head back towards her side, all she sees is an empty seat, and the lingering afterimage of a black haired man slamming a door shut behind him, leaving her to bask in its echo as the room slowly returns to silence. She didn’t have enough time to get mad. She didn’t have time to do anything, rather. So all that she could do was sit there with her hands together with a dumbfounded expression as her husband left her to herself on the couch. 

The only thing that she could come up with to say was

“What?”

Over the next two weeks, Yule started to familiarize herself with the house and the peculiarities associated with her new husband/roommate. For one thing, he doesn’t seem to leave the house—at least for anything that seems like a job. It’s not like she can afford to stay watching the door all day, she has to go to work herself after all. But she has never actually seen him leave the house for any reason. It’s hard to see him even leave that small studio.

There are small signs that indicate that he does venture out of his room. For one thing, the toilet seat gets left up in the bathroom, and there’s boxes of pizza left in the garbage can in the kitchen(Mushroom, olive and sausage). But the time she’s spent actually interacting with him has summed up to a total of 20 minutes. 

10 of those minutes were small 10 second instances of having the door shut in her face as she attempts to start a conversation with the man.

As patient as she is, she decided to try and ignore him herself. Setting up the bedroom the way she liked it was simple. Although the bed was meant for two people, no one ever has complained that their bed was too big for them. The house also had plenty of extra room for her to enjoy for herself, though she rarely ever uses it herself since as soon as she gets home from work she just sprawls onto the bed.

So the only thing that such a big house does is remind her of how empty it is.

As she lays down onto the bed, the silence of the house blasting in her ears, she decides she’s gonna do something about it.

Walking into the kitchen, she opens up the fridge as she starts to prepare the materials for her little plan.

At 6:59 PM, she makes sure to finish what she was doing in the kitchen and promptly stands at the door. As soon as it hits 7, she opens the door right as the delivery man is about to press the doorbell. 

“I’ll take it from here.” She hands him a tip before closing the door and setting it down onto the table, taking it out of the box before arranging it nicely at the center of the dining table. Plates already set up with a bowl of salad, celery sticks, as well as fried chicken(not the healthiest thing, but that’s not the point of this right now). Looking down, she waits while sitting across from the door waiting for Haley’s comet to show up.

And just as predicted, at 7:01, her husband opens the door as he walks past. His hair is a chaotic mess as his eyes reveal dark bags that weren’t present during the wedding ceremony. He didn’t seem to pay any attention to Yule as he walked towards the door seemingly unaware of her existence.

”Do do~ do do~ do do” It was only when she mimicked the chime of the doorbell that he seemed to recognize her presence. His blue eyes scan the table as he seems to stare in confusion.

”What are you doing?”

”I prepared dinner.” Her hand gestures across the table, making sure to really emphasize the fried chicken that took a lot of work(from the air fryer).

His head recoils, taken aback by her response. “Why?”

”I thought we could eat together today.”

”You did something bothersome. I didn’t ask for something like this.”

”Well I asked, so are you going to answer?”

”Didn’t we agree not to bother one another?”

She frowns. As if that set of demands could be called an agreement. ”I didn’t agree to anything. You just declared that all on your own.”

”Oh.” His response didn’t come off as sarcastic, and he looked down towards the table before pulling back the chair and sitting down in front of her. Seeing how he complied with her request, she relaxed her facial muscles as she started to lean back in her chair.

Before she could start to say anything, his hands started to already move across the table, taking the slice of pizza as well as the fried chicken and filling his plate till there wasn’t a speck of porcelain visible. Yet not a single sign of green was present on his plate.

”Are you not going to try the salad?” She remarks while scooping a serving for herself.

”I don’t like vegetables.”

”But you ordered onions on your pizza.”

”I can make exceptions.” She rolls her eyes as she takes a piece of pizza for herself. She almost expected to have to fight for it, but it seems that he only gave her a glance before taking a few more of the chicken wings.

Inwardly, she starts to feel rather disgusted by the way he eats. It’s not particular dirty or anything, but it’s just the way he rather blatantly takes from the table and doesn’t seem to care whether she’s reaching for the same item, so she just reluctantly made sure he had his space.

It’s only after eating the 7th celery stalk that she remembers what she came here to do.

”I need to talk to you,”

He hand stops shoveling the pizza to his mouth as he stares up at Yule for a moment, but he doesn’t set it down. “About what?”

”Oh I don’t know, maybe I just need to know how my husband’s been doing for the past 2 weeks, whether he has a job, what kind of person you are, what your hobbies are. There’s a lot of people at work who’ve been asking about you after all and I can’t give them a response.”

”Then just don’t give them a response.” He responds curtly before starting to eat the pizza again. She had already been a bit frustrated with him, but no even moreso.

”How about this, I’ll introduce myself first. Then you can introduce yourself whenever you want. I’ll start.” She decides to take the initiative here, maybe he’ll start to open up when she shares about her life. “My name is Yule, I’m 27 years old, I’m the eldest daughter of 3 siblings, and I work as a manager for the Capulet corporation.” She pauses, but further clarifies herself. “My father’s company.” 

After giving her response, she looks back at him, his eyes were facing towards her, but his hands were still moving food across the table, no sign of wanting to comment or add anything of his own.

She can’t help but bang her hand onto the table as the dishes jump up. ”I’m sorry, do you have a problem with me?” 

”There’s no problem unless you want there to be one.” Still, the man just brushes her off. 

”What does that mean?”

He shakes his head. But at least this time he places the food back onto the table. “Tell me, just why are you doing all this?”

She gives a baffled look to Mateo ”Like I said, I need to talk to you.”

”But I don’t NEED to talk to you. And you’re making it hard to WANT to keep talking to you.”

”You’re the one making things difficult! You haven’t given me a single thing I can work with, I’m trying my best here to make this marriage work, but all you do is just sit around in your room all day and don’t even try to talk to me. I know that neither of us chose to get married.”

He’s about to snap back, but he freezes in his chair before giving a confused expression before saying something incomprehensible to her. “What do you mean you didn’t get to choose?”