Work Text:
Dull
That was the only way Jumin could describe his wife of a little over a year. She was a product of excellent breeding as he was. Born into the right family and born with more money than either of them knew what to do with as he was. She was pretty and agreeable, smiled and carried herself with grace when it was needed, but Jumin couldn't help but find the woman so incredibly dull.
He married her to appease his father and further their business ventures. Out of all the candidates he'd presented in the past, she was the most palatable.
Their wedding was a tired affair that Jumin had little memory of. All his memories mainly stem from the garish portrait of the two of them that looms over their living room. Her mother insisted on it and neither of them refuted her.
Jumin came to learn that his wife was quite a shallow woman, but not in the sense of judgment and scrutiny, rather that there wasn't really anything deeper than surface level with her. She carried herself lightly and rarely got upset. It even got to the point that Jumin wished she'd grow tired of him and berate him over how awful of a man he was, but that never came. His wife was passive and superficial and that was that.
He immediately came to notice her tendency to buy things. She couldn't go a few days without ordering a new handbag, or another rug, or whatever vapid thing crossed her path. Money was never the issue, of course, but Jumin couldn't stand how utterly frivolous her spending truly was.
And so now Jumin found himself out with his wife at God knows what jewelry store. He'd been avoiding her for far too long this time around, so he needed to make up for it. An afternoon of shopping together was apparently the way to fulfill his obligations as a husband to her. How idiotic. All of this was just for show anyways. It’s not like any of it actually mattered. The press fawned over the two being seen in public together and they tolerated it, both playing the parts that were given to them.
“I think I’d like this one.” Her soft voice interrupted, gesturing towards a gaudy diamond necklace that Jumin could have sworn he’d seen an identical one in her jewelry box.
How utterly materialistic could this woman be? Did she not see that all these meaningless purchases were just as fake as their marriage? Could she not tell that none of the treasures and luxuries she wasted her fortune on would ever make her an interesting or likable person? She was forever doomed to be an airheaded and vapid waste of a person regardless of how many jewels she coated herself in. Like a makeshift armor of some sorts that begged the people around her to see value in her. This woman was truly pathetic.
“Another trinket to collect dust on your nightstand? What a waste.” Jumin sneered quietly in her direction, still conscientious enough to make sure that his wife was one that heard.
He would have thought that this would be the moment that she’d lash out at him, call him a horrible excuse for a husband, and demand a divorce, but that never came. He would have accepted anything from her, yet all she did was smile sadly as her glassy gaze fixed itself on the necklace in the display case.
“Diamonds don’t make promises or deceive me. They don’t lie, all they do is shine like the sun.”
She spoke so calmly, yet the sadness laced in her unfocused gaze struck Jumin in his very core. And that’s when he finally understood the point of all this.
She was always alone.
No one had ever given her love.
Everything in her life was solved with stuff.
All she had was stuff.
And even more terrifying than that first realization, was Jumin seeing that she was just like him.
She had her own problems, her own loneliness, her own tangled threads of emotion. She projected these threads onto something pointless like material objects just as he did with Elizabeth. She was just like him. They were the same. Two utterly broken and tangled people forced into obligation after obligation due to their background. They were exactly the same.
And oddly enough, Jumin began to feel a sort of lightness in his chest with this conclusion. It was almost as if realizing this about his wife had given him a bit of hope. Hope that one day he could finally be understood and listened to. Finding a soul so much like his own, maybe they could come to help one another, to heal each other and forget what the world had done to them.
He wouldn't go as far to say love per say, but a mutual respect and understanding could surely be something he could hope for.
This was it. He could help her, right here and now. Put a stop to all this now. Take that leap of faith into detangling her threads and finding out who she really was. He could do that for her. He could do that for himself.
“Excuse me,”
The shopkeeper who had greeted them when they first walked in enthusiastically made her way over to them, awaiting his command.
Jumin reached into the inner pocket of his coat to pull out his wallet, reaching for his credit card.
“My wife would like this necklace.”