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linonyang · 10 months

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BF!SKZ WHEN YOU ARE IN STUDY MODE [maknae line]

read hyung line version here

pairings: maknae line x gender-neutral!reader (written separately per member)

genre: fluff, college au

warning: none

word count: 1.6k words (390-400 words per member)

tag list: @awooghan @hwangsify @xiaoderrrr @cosmic-railwayxo (join the tag list here! :D)

☆ JISUNG

he's very clingy, and he misses you very much despite being a busy student like you…

what will he do?

bring you to a 24/7 cafe and stay there overnight :>

so he can have you and coffee—two of his essentials to stay up the whole night

he gets to spend some time with the love of his life and consume the black liquid that will always make his eyes open for several hours

he'd say it's the best combination ngl :ppp

when you have to memorize something, you can read the same line on your laptop repeatedly while leaning on jisung's chest

you get less tension in your body because your senses are overwhelmed with jisung's arms around your torso, his scent, the smile on his face, and his voice whenever he has to read his own paper or help you remember some terms

jisung will find ways to make you remember and understand concepts, such as making acronyms, melodies, or anything that can help you get them into your mind in an instant <33

if he could pull a joke with the term you’re trying to remember, he’d do it!!! he’ll definitely use some of his remaining brain cells to give your mind some room for more concepts to familiarize yourself!

his support and presence comfort you so much that you forget the pressure that has been building up inside you for the past week

he will be wonderfully sustaining this energy until you finish all of your deadlines and exams in the next few days

you guys will continuously do the same routine: meet up after class, head straight to the cafe, study together, and go back home

it may sound simple, but the specifics within all of those have been the best and the most effective for your peace of mind

and it’s all because jisung’s with you all the way <3

he may hop into your apartment and eat some dinner with you if you’re feeling lazy to go to the cafe

and look after you once in a while if you need any help, just like what you two do whenever you’re in the cafe <33

he’d stay over with you when it’s very late and plan out your meals for the next day so you’ll have a big boost!!! so you can be productive!!!

inarguably the best bf to be with imo :D

☆ FELIX

felix can’t keep thinking of anything else if he wants to be with you when you study

you’re his only focus!!!

and he’ll never stop until you successfully finish all of your tasks

(hence why sometimes felix tells you he kinda messed up some recitations in his classes :’< tell him to prioritize his studies too please)

right after his own class, he’ll rush to wherever you are and treat you like royalty as usual!

the only difference here is that he’s physically ready always when you need some company

whenever he has nothing to do, he really finds you and stays by your side until he has to leave once again for a group meeting or attend another class

he thinks there should be someone accompanying you so you wouldn’t trap yourself in any negative thoughts

that’s why he’s also your cheerleader

he has been very optimistic even if you’re on the verge of breaking down

and honestly, it helps you face all of your fears in academics

if you feel you’re gonna miss a task, you always try to remember felix’s words on how much work you did for your assignments and you can pass whatever you did

because, at the end of the day, you did what you can do!!! and that’s what matters!!!

if you got to catch up, good for you!! a cheerful felix is still by your side and applauding your effort!!!

(and he’ll definitely do the same if you passed your work unfinished :D don’t worry, he’s still very proud of you!!)

whenever he’s with you, you convince him to do his own work

but he’s very stubborn </3

as i mentioned earlier, he can’t think of anything else if you’re intensely studying for your exams!

consider him as your coach of some sort… he’ll always be there so you can be comfortably consistent at your own pace :>

maybe when he gets a lot of things on his plate, he’d still accompany you because “i always have the time to do my work :p” (a.k.a. pulling an all-nighter in his apartment)

you’ll look after him next when you’re done with your tasks.

he also needs some of your coaching </3

but that will end up felix getting distracted though because you are with him when he has to study.

good luck :’D he probably wasn’t kidding when he said you’re his focus

☆ SEUNGMIN

seungmin will move in the background when he realizes that you have a lot on your plate

he works in the morning so he doesn’t do too much of studying under the moonlight

but you do the opposite

what seungmin will do is organize some things around you

he wouldn’t mind sorting out some things you weren’t able to clean up on the other side of the table

especially that stack of papers you’ve been reading for the last two weeks

your whiteboard, filled with your list of deadlines, will also be updated by seungmin!

“are you done with that one quiz last week?” “yep, i’m done” and there goes seungmin erasing that one written on the whiteboard

this is one random thought, but seungmin will definitely sort out some food in your fridge while you’re busy on your desk

you let him munch on whatever he’ll find in your fridge

he’ll throw out food that has been stocked in there for a long time

if he finds something for you to eat, he would bring it to you and will push it near you on your desk if you decline his love for you (a.k.a. silently giving food haha)

“c’mon, go eat!!! :<” “let me finish this bit?” *seungmin pushes the orange juice and already-heated chicken pie near you* “no, take a sip and a bite first!!!”

and he’d finish his adventure in your fridge once you take that sip and bite lmao

he’ll come back with his stomach full, with more food for you to eat

there is a high chance that he’ll scold you if he comes back after an hour and you haven’t finished that small portion of food he gave you :<

watch out for a very caring seungmin

he will not hesitate to feed you while you’re reviewing your books!

once your stomach’s full because of the food seungmin fed you and your mind’s overwhelmed because of information overload, seungmin will accompany you through your routine until you go to bed

he’s sooo willing to prepare your pajamas while you’re in the shower

he will also volunteer to do your skin routine if you do that

you wouldn’t be surprised when you’ll finally lie down in bed and you’re immediately wrapped with your blanket (that’s all seungmin’s doing :p)

you’ll have a refreshing morning with seungmin wrapped around you too :’>

☆ JEONGIN

if you’re in his room at the dorms (so he can look after you occasionally haha), he wouldn’t mind giving you the privacy and peace you need so you can focus on studying

because he can’t trust you being alone in your room :< you might get distracted if you’re alone in your dorm!

unless you ask him to stay with you :D

he’s just one call away! he’ll be with the boys, playing mario kart with felix for a few hours

he will also scold the boys if any of them have the audacity to make noise

“keep quiet changbin!!!!” because the man shouted when he lost against chan in tekken 7 :(((

he’s just… he wants some bit of silence in the dorm since the walls are quite thin and you can hear almost any sound outside of his room lol

then you’ll hear the boys squeal and tease him at how sweet he has been to you

rip jeongin’s ears

since he’s outside of his room, you wouldn’t notice whether or not he went out of the dorm

don’t be surprised if he leaves you some coffee or muffins after buying his americano outside with the boys

he drops it off very quick! you weren’t even able to say thank you to him :<<

but you did find a cute note attached to the food he gave to you :DD

“i love u :* such a hardworking baby :< always know that you did your best to prepare for your exams, whether the results are good or bad! mwah <3”

you value that so much :(((

he leaves you motivating notes a lot until the point you have kept a box full of them from jeongin!

he’s so strict about your studying, so he really doesn’t get in his room unless you say so

but of course, you know this is not your home so you still let him in any time, especially at night

you can trust him to not distract you

you still go to bed together :p he can’t survive without you in his arms

unfortunately, he’s so stubborn about this fact^ sigh

that’s why when the exams week is over, he greets you with a tight hug and tons of kisses

such a clingy baby after a week of barely any physical affection for you

“can we have a date now?”

“right away?”

“heh… yes?”

236 notes · View notes

armysantiny · 7 months

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23:15 – 지성 (Jisung)

Min's notes; fully inspired by the time my cramps were so bad i was frozen still in my kitchen. i didn't break a glass tho-

Y/n freezes when the glass slips out of her hand, breath caught in her throat as shockwaves of pain go up the lower part of her back. There’s broken glass on the floor, water everywhere and period-induced agony; it’s overwhelming. Unable to bring herself to move even a step, y/n’s rooted to the spot, tears very quickly burning her eyes.

“Baby?” Jisung calls out, and y/n feels the drip of tears on her cheek, unable to call out to her boyfriend, “is everything okay? Did something break?”

The resulting silence consumes Jisung, compelling him to untangle himself from the blanket fort and wonder into the kitchen. Worries chip away at him during the short distance from the living room and the kitchen, and Jisung’s heart drops when he sees y/n. Standing with glass at her feet.

He sees the tears, and more or less leaps into action.

“Lift your foot for me?” He asks, brushing what he can into the dustpan and checking for any cuts. There aren’t any, and relief ultimately washes into his chest. He dries the water off of the floor, drops the cloth in the sink and offers to help y/n walk into the living room to continue their movie night.

Y/n melts into her boyfriend’s arms, basking in his embrace. The pain’s still there, and y/n allows herself to be waddled into the living room, bundling under the blanket fort, and pulling the nearest cushion flush against her abdomen. Jisung returns a few moments later, hot water bottle in one hand, painkillers, and a glass water in the other. Her saviour.

“Delivery for my favourite person ever?”

“Han Jisung you’re a godsend.” She downs the painkillers, replacing the cushion with the hot water bottle. The relief is immediate, and y/n plants several appreciative kisses onto Jisung’s face.

“Thank you baby, and, you know, about the glass—”

“Don’t worry about it~ it’s just one glass, we can replace it, but” Jisung shuffles in closer, bringing his face right up to y/n’s ear. “A few more kisses would be perfect, you know?”

Y/n rolls her eyes, fond.

“C’mere you.”

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators, @blankjournal, @districtninewriters

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Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @babyboobean, @taem-min, @borahae-reads, @tinystarstay | Taglist form

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kim-seungmine · 2 years

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[22:33] Minho’s not sure if there’s a name for this excruciating feeling burning in his chest, but the closest category will be homesick… which is weird. He’s gone on business trips before, yet this time he feels like he’s going to perish if he doesn’t see his bed right this second.

If he doesn’t see you right this second.

The texts, voice notes, phone calls, video calls… none of those are enough to soothe his heart anymore. The last straw was when you blurted out that you missed him too a few days ago. Minho needed to do something, and coming home sooner was his only option.

After pulling an all-nighter for 3 days in order to finish his work faster, Minho called his boss and begged to go home earlier than planned.

He wants to see you, feel you, hold you, drown himself in you. He needs you, and he needs you now.

Thankfully, now you’re only 5 minutes away.

He called you a few hours ago, right before he boarded the plane, hoping you would be home instead of having dinner with your co-workers. You were already home when you answered the phone, but you sounded tired. Minho doesn’t expect you to still be awake when he gets home since he kept his return a surprise, but deep down he hopes he’ll get to see you looking into his eyes tonight. A few seconds is enough.

His chest almost bursts as he’s punching in the door password, knowing you’re only a few steps away. When the door is open, Minho immediately tries to locate you.

And there you are, eyes bulging wide, probably almost fainting from the thought that a burglar is breaking in.

Not the kind of gaze Minho desperately longs to see, but what could he expect when he kept all of this a secret?

“Minho!” you exclaim, the shock in your eyes gradually turning into relief, before finally turning into the love and comfort Minho craves for. “Hi, baby. Sorry for not telling you. I wanted this to be a sur–”

You’ve lunged at him before he can finish his sentence. Minho wraps you in his embrace, about to bury his face in the crook of your neck when he realizes he can barely feel your arms around his neck.

“This damned backpack,” he curses, forcing himself to pull away from you and shrugging the said backpack off of his shoulders. He pulls you close again in a heartbeat and sighs happily as you scratch the hair on his nape. “I missed you,” he murmurs, inhaling the scent of your lavender body wash and hugging you even tighter. “I tried to get everything done as soon as possible.”

You giggle against his chest, wrapping your legs around his torso when he hoists you up. “Because you wanted to see me?”

Warmth spreads all over his body and soul at the lovely tone of your voice. The sleepless nights were worth it. “Mhm,” he confirms, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I didn’t know being away from you would be this hard.”

On any other day, you will tease the hell out of him, but not tonight. You feel the sincerity in his words. In the way he’s hugging you like you will disappear if he doesn’t hold you tight enough. So you say, “I missed you too. Thank you for coming home sooner.”

Minho only lets out a blissed out hum, peppering your face with small kisses before capturing your lips with his. He feels you whine against his lips, and that only fuels him to kiss you hard, failing to control himself because it’s you. He kisses you like he’s trying to remember every single line & curve of your lips and God, he’s addicted to the feeling of you melting into him, the way you try to keep up with his feverish kisses although you’re running out of breath. The way you show him that you love him as much as he loves you.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, almost groaning when you mumble those three words back to him. Minho knows you love him, but hearing you say it always makes him lightheaded. He gives you a lopsided grin when you pull away, chuckling at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. But he definitely looks the same, maybe even more out of it because of how much he’s in love with you.

“Should I run you a bath?” you ask, caressing his hair. “You must be tired.”

Now that you mention it, Minho is suddenly aware of how tired he is. 3 days of back to back meetings, rushed ramyeon dinners, and no sleep. And, of course, 3 days of missing you like some mad man on a spell.

“I’ll just take a quick shower,” he answers before putting you back on your feet. “I can’t wait to cuddle you and sleep.”

“But you love baths… I’ll join you, then!” you say sweetly, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bathroom. After stripping him of his clothes (while shamelessly admiring his toned chest), you take out one of your bath bombs from your drawers. Minho doesn’t care about bath bombs, but he can’t help but smile at your excited explanation about the peach bath bomb you bought last week.

Once the water is warm enough, you threw the bath bomb into the bathtub, watching it slowly dissolves into a pool of melted lollipop. “It’s so pretty,” you sigh. “You’ll smell like peaches though, I hope you don’t mind!”

After helping you get into the bathtub and settling himself behind you, Minho begins telling you every random thing he remembers from the trips. The weird rice the hotel served, all the cats he met & fed, every ramyeon he had for dinner (earning a light slap on his arm from you), even the weight on his shoulders because the trip was very important. You listen to all of it, absorbed in his nonsense, and Minho thinks nothing is better than this. Nothing is better than you.

“Your fingers are all pruny,” he comments sometime later, pecking each of your fingertips. “I guess it’s time for bed!”

You help drying each other’s hair, and Minho insists that you wear his favorite black shirt to sleep. You whistle, happy not having to steal it for once. “Wow, you really did miss me,” you beam, raising your arms so he can put it on you.

He pinches your cheek. “You have nooo idea, honey.”

Minho pulls you back into his embrace once you’re clothed, feeling his eyes grow heavy as he relishes in the feeling of having your arms around his torso. “Minho?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m fine with you taking as much time as you need to finish work,” you mumble, playing with his hair. “I don’t mind, really. It’s work after all. You never need to rush but… this means a lot to me.”

Oh, you sweet angel. Minho’s going to spend the rest of his life making you feel how much you mean to him, that what he did today was only the start. “You know I’m attached to you forever, right? I’ll follow you around until you’re tired of me,” he answers.

You laugh, burying your face into his chest again. “If I knew you were this clingy I wouldn’t have risked falling in love with you.”

Minho, in return, buries his face in your hair. Coming home to you is always the best option. “I love you too.”

-----

a/n: thinking of this minho x mc when i wrote it. completely self-indulgent so i apologize for the tooth-rotting fluff!

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moonlit-han · 1 year

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the littlest spoon

genre/au: visual artist!chan, friends to lovers au, college au, a smidgeon of angst pairing: bang chan x fem reader word count: 1.5k warnings: mentions of lack of self confidence request: yes a/n: this is full of all the things chan should hear. at least from me, that is. enjoy! (and remember: reblog the fics you read to make a writer's day!)

↠ masterlist | comments & feedback appreciated! ↞

↠↞

The smell of the oil paints Chan used was trying to overwhelm your senses, but, thankfully, not quite managing it. The breeze pulled in through one window in your apartment’s living room ushered the smell out the opposite window, effectively ensuring neither of you passed out from the fumes. The only problem was that the sun had set hours ago and the darkness had brought with it a chill that was slowly seeping into your bones.

Seeking warmth, you shuffled over to where Chan sat in front of his easel, worrying at his bottom lip in time with the minute strokes of his brush as he worked on a piece you could’ve sworn was finished an hour ago. Taking care not to jostle Chan’s arm or shoulder, you leaned into his back.

“How’s it going?” You asked.

“I just have this one bit to finish. I can’t get this shadow right and it’s driving me nuts.” Chan set down his brush. Casual touches and affection weren’t unusual for the two of you, not after having known each other for five years and living together for two, and so Chan leaned into your touch as you carded your fingers through his hair. “I have to do better,” he added, just quietly enough that he must have thought you wouldn’t hear.

Your hand stopped its repetitive motions and you turned to him, frowning. You were, regrettably, used to hearing Chan berate himself over the smallest things. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t seem to convince him that whatever he was doing was great, that however he looked was wonderful, or whatever thing he was displeased about was actually perfectly fine.

“Chan,” you said, “you’ve already been working on that painting for two weeks. An hour worrying over one shadow isn’t going to do much more, right?” You didn’t mean it to sound as dismissive as it did, so added, “What I mean is it’s already great.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah but—”

“No. Chan, really,” you insisted, emphatically placing both hands flat atop his head. “Maybe just leave it ’til tomorrow?” Chan looked like he was going to argue, but you forestalled him. “Please? Just wait and I’m sure it’ll be better to look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Chan groaned, stretching.

“Good.”

Twenty minutes later, Chan was snuggled under the covers in his bed, trying to get his mind to stop racing.

Thirty minutes later, Chan got up and knocked on your door.

“Yeah? Chan, you okay?” You called, setting the book you had been reading on the bedside table.

“Can I come in?” Chan’s voice was muffled by the door.

“Of course.”

Chan looked sheepish as he entered your bedroom. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in there countless times... Just not in the middle of the night and—

“Really?” You demanded, ignoring the way your pulse pounded at the sight of him. “You couldn’t have put on a shirt?”

“Be glad I put on boxers,” Chan replied, smirking.

“Ugh, you’re a menace.” You rolled your eyes, sitting upright and patting the bed beside you. Sure, Chan might be a menace—only to your heart and sanity, looking all gorgeous and toned in your bedroom—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sit on your bed when he clearly had something on his mind.

Chan joined you on the bed, pulling the throw blanket you kept at the foot of your bed up around himself like a cape. It was unreasonably endearing.

“So, what’s up?” You prompted after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Well, comfortable save for Chan’s fidgeting. He really was a champion fidgeter.

“Just thinking too much,” Chan replied. His head was bowed, so you couldn’t see his expression well but his tone said enough. Sometimes he got like this—wrapped up in his head and perfectionism, convinced that he wasn’t good enough for anything or anyone.

“Wanna tell me about?” You wanted to reach for your friend, but resisted. That would be far too obvious.

“I was thinking about the painting and then all the other stuff I haven’t gotten right. Like that paper I wrote last semester for Professor Choi. I know I could’ve done so much better.”

“Chan, you got a 96% on that paper. Didn’t you tell me that was the highest grade in the class?” Sometimes Chan was unbelievably hard on himself, to the point that you frequently had the urge to shake his silly frame and tell him he was actually wonderful, amazing, talented, beautiful, and definitely a catch. Although, maybe not that last bit.

“Yeah, but—”

“Nope, not listening,” you said playfully. You knew he’d get your tone and know you still cared.

“Yeah, but I was thinking about all that and then started thinking about us.”

That brought you up short.

“Like,” Chan continued, his words tumbling over each other, “we’ve lived together for two years now and we’re good friends and all. And you always make sure I’m okay and I really, really appreciate that. And you’re so sweet and smart as hell and really pretty. Like, really pretty. And… And I’m just some guy and I know I’m not super handsome or anything and wouldn’t deserve you at all but—” Chan blushed.

You stared at him, dumbfounded. A minute ago, you had thought you had a good handle on the conversation, but now it had headed in a completely unexpected direction.

Chan swallowed, then raised his head, meeting your eyes through what you knew was quite an effort of will. “I, um, really like you. A lot. I’m, like, probably in love with you, honestly. But yeah. I just needed to get that off my chest.” He sighed shakily. “I’ll just go back to my room now. You can forget I said all that, if you want. It’s totally fine.”

And now you did reach for Chan, catching hold of his hand as he began to turn away. “No, stay.” You asked. Pleaded. “Stay?”

Chan paused and you could feel him quivering slightly as you laced your fingers through his.

“Chan,” you said gently and squeezed his hand. “Stay with me, baby. I promise I’m in love with you, too. I guess I didn’t think… Well, I’m not sure why I hadn’t said it, but I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You mean it? You’re not joking?” Chan sounded like he half expected you to say, Yes, I’m joking. I actually hate you. Damn it, couldn’t this man ever just be confident in himself? You supposed that was one of your roles as… whatever you were. You could give Chan reassurance and hope, so desperately hope, that his confidence would grow.

“Yes, Channie, I mean it,” you said. “You are handsome. You are talented. You are smart and kind and silly and beautiful and everything else. You’re wonderful, baby. Okay?” And with that, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. Just a light brush of your lips, but you knew it would be sending excited shivers all throughout your friend’s—boyfriend’s?—body.

Before you knew it, Chan had dropped his blanket cape and was pulling you into his lap and clinging to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. You found yourself stroking his back with long, languid movements that seemed to make him melt against you even more thoroughly. His back was so smooth, the bare skin soft over the muscle. You couldn’t help but marvel.

After a few deep breaths, Chan made an indistinct noise. “Y/N,” he whispered, “you have no idea how glad I am. I was so worried you would just… I don’t know… disappear once I told you how I felt.”

“You’ve got me, baby,” you whispered, kissing Chan’s temple. “You have for a long time and will for even longer.”

“Good.”

You felt lips press against your shoulder, and hurried to say, “I meant it when I said stay, you know. Do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?”

Chan giggled, face still buried against your neck. “I know I should be the big spoon—”

“No talking like that,” you said. “I’ll cuddle you like you’re the tiniest spoon ever. How about that?”

“Yeah, that sounds really good,” Chan said, a little breathlessly.

With some shifting around and promises from Chan that his pants would be staying on that night—no guarantees were made for other nights, you noted—the two of you were soon curled up together in the middle of your bed. The sheets somehow felt softer than usual, the coverlet fluffier and warmer. Or, it might simply have been Chan’s presence making everything just that much softer.

“Goodnight, baby,” you said into the darkness once the two of you had found just the right way in which to tangle your limbs.

Chan hummed. “Goodnight, moonlight of my life.”

You burst out laughing, hugging Chan tightly and swatting at the hand he had draped over yours. “You’re the cheesiest man in the world, you know that?”

“You still love me, though,” he said smugly, nestling more closely against you.

“Yeah, yeah. I do,” you agreed. “I do.”

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neo-shitty · 2 years

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karaoke blues — h.js

description. when in doubt, have a karaoke night out. or in which the first real hurdle of your seemingly flawless relationship is finals week (and miscommunication and a tad bit of overreaction).

pairings. han jisung x female reader

genre. fluff, slight comedy, camping!au, established relationship!au

word count. 2.1k

notes. inspired by the jisung’s bit from skzful days in jeju #3 (min. 20:53 onwards). the one and only karaoke prince i will acknowledge.

You can hear him singing from half-way down the path. No, not really singing, wailing.

An exchange of glances with your friends assures you that you weren’t hearing things and by the way they turned your way and not at each other meant they recognized the voice too. So you trudge on, making it to the end of the path and into the clearing—a grass field supposedly for camping bordered by a ring of trees. Lights hang on wirelines over the head of figures moving around a long table. The voices are clearer now; two distinct ones amplified by microphones and a cacophony of laughter echoing in the background. The night was young but they’ve been out here for a while now, half-empty beer bottles and sauce-slicked chopsticks littering the tabletop from the hours they’ve spent in the open. Han Jisung stands over everyone else, gripping a microphone with one hand while the other conveyed what his voice couldn’t. The MR boomed through the speakers, his cries along with it, into the open air of the night as the others howled in laughter beside him.

“Oh boy,” Taehee says beside you, heaving a sigh just before you could.

It takes a while before anyone notices your arrival and even then it barely takes their attention away from the karaoke machine. Changbin is the first to acknowledge your presence, raising eyebrows when his eyes brush over to where you and your friends were. Setting his meal aside, he walks over to greet you, helping you with your things before heading to Saeyeon’s side.

“What’s up with him?” Saeyeon asks.

Changbin only blinks, a story for later. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“We kept sending texts but i don’t think any of them went through with the reception here.” You say. The phone in your hand shows no bars, a notification that your message failed to send plastered on your lockscreen. In your inbox, your messages remained either unsent or unread.

Out of nowhere, the boy bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he leads you to another table behind theirs. The other boys wave over as you pass, playing in on keeping the oblivious Jisung in the dark as Changbin instructed. You think it’s cruel, but nothing beyond the silly pranks they played against each other. He’s preoccupied with singing anyway.

Chan approaches with a plate full of what they’ve been grilling, “Glad you guys made it on time. They would’ve chowed this down in the next hour.”

He sits across you, bright-eyed and waiting on all of you to take your first bites after the long journey. But you know he’s here for something else, you can feel him straining himself from the noise the younger boys were causing. Maybe some kind of explanation, or better yet a way to make it stop.

He opens his mouth to speak, abruptly cut off as Jisung hits a high note, screaming from behind him. You stiffle a laugh, harder to do with everyone else on the table failing to stop themselves.

“Ah, I’m so sorry for that. He’s been like that since the ride here. Played nothing but sappy sad songs in the car I nearly fell asleep.”

The conversation stirs another way as Chan asks about your own trip here but you’re no longer listening, your mind wandering over to the karaoke jock singing one song after the other. Somehow you find yourself smiling at his antics, amused and curious how he ended up that distraught over something you had no idea about. The both of you were fine, right?

Right?

Until you realize that you can’t remember the last time you had any form of correspondence. The utensils slip out of your fingers, dully clattering on the wooden table when you set them down to scramble for your phone. You open your messages with Jisung, the last few being yours all dated today—either failed to send or unread. But before that, during the days leading up to the outing, there was nothing but his messages, your replies too few and too far between.

The whole scroll up are bubbles from his side, streams of messages from varying points of his day. On the other side, all your responses were nothing but reactions to his messages themselves and the occasional readily available emoticons. No proper exchange in over a week, maybe even more, and the length of your replies dwindling as the days passed.

Oh, poor guy.

“_____, is it true?”

The call reels you out of your own thoughts, your head snapping up from your phone. Hyunjin slipped into the space beside you on the bench, his hands clasped. “You broke up with Han?”

The reaction it draws from you is immediate, your eyebrows knitting together in concern and confusion. “No, who said that?”

The boy blinks, disbelieving. “It’s all he’s been on since we met up today.”

The rundown of the day is repeated to you with a few more additions. From Chan’s story about the car ride to Hyunjin’s account on the past few days with Jisung. He tells you that it’s easy to notice the air shifting when it comes to Jisung. Everything turns eerily quiet—too quiet even for their own liking, and that’s how everyone noticed and concluded that something was wrong. But no one has ever had the courage to ask him what was up. Except Hyunjin though, your local gossip boy with an undying curiosity for business not his own.

According to the information he gathered, the past few days were a downcast for the boy. He spent his days trying to understand that you’re busy while simultaneously not understanding why his phone was dead quiet. He tried to stay preoccupied, distracted, But there were only so many options to cycle through. It’s funny because Jisung was never one to take interest in anyone else’s hobbies but he’s been hyperactive the last week. He tries to keep up with Changbin’s workout routine even if it (nearly) kills him, staying after hours in Chan’s studio even when he isn’t asked to. At home he’s cooking with Minho or baking with Felix or developing a sudden interest in photography and painting. Heck, he even tries reading books. Anything to have company.

But the long days end regardless, boiling down into the quiet of his room where he has no one. Sometimes Hyunjin would catch him on the couch in the living room in the early hours of day, watching Netflix on the tv with a dead stare without acknowledging anyone else who enters the room. “He lived his days dead,” Hyunjin finishes.

The table is quiet, all intent on listening but confused on how to react.

Across you, a bubble of laughter escapes out of your friend’s lips. She turns to you, “You’re on finals for a week and this is what happens?”

A resounding smack echoes through the air between you, followed by a hiss from the injured party. “Be quiet!” Saeyeon sneers and Taehee falls quiet.

The retort falls dead on the other girl’s tongue when you glance at her, resorting to rubbing the freshly slapped skin of her arm instead.

“And then what else, Hyunjin?”

“Aigoo, uri Hannie!” The voice belongs to Changbin and heads turn to the direction it’s coming from. Beside you, Hyunjin picks the bucket hat off his head to put it on yours, still in on the prank they were playing.

Still, from beneath the hat you catch sight of him. Jisung walks with one arm draped over Changbin’s shoulders, hair disheveled like an open book on the top of his head. The gloss-eyed boy approaches you with red puffy cheeks that matched the color of his eyes, face obscured every now and then by the arm he uses to wipe the tears he’s been crying.

“Can you tell them why are you crying?” Changbin asks when they’re both standing by the end of the table.

You don’t think that he sees you nor makes out that it isn’t just the boys sitting around the table. Jisung shys away from the others, from you, mumbling something you couldn’t make out into the other boy’s shoulder. And before you know it, he’s a crying mess again, bear-hugging the other boy who couldn’t bring himself to shake him off. Then you hear it first hand, his endless list of thoughts he’d been keeping to himself. It’s the only voice you’re listening to, drowning out the laughter that had begun to erupt from the mouths of everyone else on the table.

Jisung lets the other boy eventually, sinking into a tucked ball on the floor. He sat there like a child who just got their toy stolen, knees tucked in his arms with his head hung low. And it's the last straw for you, their prank be damned.

You excuse yourself from the table, crossing over the bench to walk over to where he’s crumpled by Changbin’s legs. The latter was still muttering words of consolation to dead ears, the crying barely lulling.

“I think she’s going to break up with me. She doesn’t like me anymore. Where did I go wrong again? I tried my best this time.” He says through sniffles and hiccups.

“Who doesn’t like you anymore?”

“_____.”

“Me?” you ask him, “I don’t like you anymore?”

He buffers, the sobbing stopping as he takes in the voice and your answer. Slowly, he raises his head, his arms leaving temporary marks crisscrossing over his forehead. You notice the moment it finally registers, his eyes readjusting as he studies your face. He blinks once, twice for good measure.

He brings a finger out of his closed fit, supposedly to poke you, But you mirror it, forefingers touching by their tips.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” His voice is quiet when he speaks, hiccups butchering his words.

“I kept texting you that we’ll catch up,” you show him your phone where the messages you sent, or at least tried to, remained undelivered. “I even sent you updates, but now I know they never reached you.”

You both end up sitting on the grass, the leaves tickling the skin of your thighs ever so slightly. You hand him a bottle of water you’ve carried over from the table, which he downs in seconds—parched from singing and crying.

“What was it that you were saying, About me no longer liking you? Is that why you’re crying?” you ask him, ducking to try and meet his eye.

He shakes his head. “It’s just,” he starts, “the past few weeks, we barely talked anymore and I think you’re losing interest in me. I don’t want that but I can’t do anything about it either.”

His out of the blue confessions coaxes a laugh out of you, one you’ve been holding back on fear of being mistaken as insensitive of your own boyfriend’s feelings. But it’s a silly thing, a spillage of emotions brought about by the alcohol. “Hannie,” his fingers find their way to yours, intertwining in an odd way but at the very least in contact, “did I forget to mention it was finals week?”

He hides away, head ducked with his hair blocking your view of his eyes. “Yeah, you did mention,” he pauses. “now that I think of it, I think I just let my head get the better of me.”

You leave his hands to hold his face, soft palms on soft cheeks as you raise his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are shining, glinting back the light from the bulbs above like a lens. Carefully, you brush his cheeks, traces of his tears absorbed by the pad of your thumb. “I’m sorry I’m absolute shit at managing my time.”

He breathes out a chuckle, the vibrations jolting down your hands and through you. It’s then when you realize that it’s been a while since you heard him laugh a hearty one. The last few weeks were nothing but a monotonous podcast listening session of lecture after lecture, each one harder to absorb than the last. You didn’t want to fail, maybe that’s why you sacrificed what sliver of stress-relief you had left. But the exams are finally over, your schedule has opened up and you have nothing left to do but to make up for lost time.

Everything has lulled into a quiet that suited the Jeju atmosphere you pictured in your head. Without Jisung on the mic, they’ve moved on to calmer songs—the type that winded down everything until the karaoke machine is forgotten. The others on the table have moved to other things, others leaving to take a walk while some stayed behind to talk over spare grills. You marvel at how easy things could fall back into place in such familiar space, it’s something you never got to have away in university.

“So, there’s no other guy?”

You pat Jisung’s face lightly, a faint reality slap that’s more endearing less a wake up call. “If I don’t have time for you, what makes you think I still have time for others?”

#jisung fluff #han fluff #skz fluff #districtninewriters #kwritersworldnet #skz scenarios #jisung x reader #han x reader #skz x reader #jisung imagines #han imagines #skz imagines #jisung timestamps #han jisung #stray kids #skz japan #skz han #toff.writes #in this sea of kinktober entries let me just put some fluff out

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straykits · 1 year

Note

back again hehe 🧍🏾‍♀️

could you write no.12 with minho please? i think it'd be so cutee

ty in advance<3

prompt 12: possessive hand holding

hi, sorry this took so long afkjfka ur other req is also gonna take a hot minute ��😭 i hope you like this though, even just a little bit. pairing: bestfriend!minho x gn!reader wc: 0.7k+ warnings: mentions of alcohol, a guy being stubborn about drinks??? genre/s: (implied) college au, non-idol au

he’d been on your ass for the last fifteen minutes. some upperclassman from another major who you were sure you spent all but zero classes with.

“c’mon, a drink?” it’s probably the fifth time he’s asked. “just one, and if by the time you finish it you don’t want my number, I’ll leave.”

you weave your way through the mass of people, neck craning for a familiar face. it was definitely much easier to navigate a crowded bar than a crowded club, but it didn’t make finding your friends any easier.

the guy keeps following, stopping occasionally to give you the false hope that he’d run into someone who would keep him distracted long enough for you to slip away. it wasn’t the case, unfortunately, and you finally find yourself in the outside area of the bar. less people, less noise, but the same amount of persistence.

“y/n, just one. my buy, no need to pay me back!”

the amount of carefree arrogance that he had when saying that irked you just enough that you were about to snap and turn around to yell something in his face.

but then a new presence stops you.

you feel the hand around your wrist, the size and the way the thumb slips into your palm and presses gently familiar and comforting. you know who it is before they even speak.

“and who is this?”

minho’s voice is close to your ear, and he pulls you back so you’re against his chest. you could feel his heartbeat against his chest, the steady thump hitting your back like comforting pats. he pulls your hand up, placing it on your hip, and intertwines his finger with yours.

it wasn’t the first time he’d been this close to you, wasn’t even the first time he’d had his hands in yours, but something about it all made your ears warm, made your stomach flip, made your heart skip a beat.

how cliche.

“minho- this is, uh-”

the guys name had slipped your mind, really.

you glance at your upperclassman, expecting some type of exclamation about how hurt he was that you’d forgotten his name, but his attention was trained on minho.

he seemed to be resisting a glare, eye twitching ever so slightly as he looks minho up and down. there’s venom in his voice when he speaks next.

“who’re you, their boyfriend?”

you’re almost frozen by how quick the guy’s demeanor had changed.

“yeah.”

minho was a lot of things to you, but he was definitely not your boyfriend.

“lee minho, nice to meet you.”

you glance up to see a smile plastered on his face, his cold tone like ice in whiskey as he extends his free hand out.

it takes a moment for the other guy to take minho’s hand in a brisk shake, the fake smile on his fake rivaling minho’s.

“i’m just leaving. sorry to disturb the two of you,” he says and with a final glare, turns and stalks off.

“see ya, just leaving!”

the fake cheer in minho’s voice was blatantly obvious.

you turn in minho’s arms and he lets you go, only to pull you towards him once again. hands find their way around your waist, this time holding you to him firmly.

“just a bit longer, y/n. he’s still watching.”

there was no way to verify minho’s words - your back was to your upperclassman, and to look back now would make this whole act obvious.

“boyfriend?” you mumble up at minho, face warmer than you’d like to admit “”you couldn’t have come up with something better?”

“it was the best i could think of, in that moment,” minho shrugs. then the corner of his lips qiurk up, eyes hazing over slightly as he looks directly at you. his voice drops into a low whisper. “so humour me for a bit, why don’t you? until that guy’s gone, anyways.”

it’s a devilish grin that he gives you - so sly, so mischievous, so minho that you just can’t say no.

“okay,” you mumble, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw. the action was half reluctant, half laced with a tempting desire that had built up over the years. you see him gulp, see the way his eyes flutter momentarily, as if you had almost broken through some facade. “just for a bit.”

#districtninewriters #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #lee minho imagines #lee minho drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #yall idk what the heck to tag this LMAO

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linonyang · 10 months

Text

BF!SKZ WHEN YOU ARE IN STUDY MODE [hyung line]

read maknae line version here

pairings: hyung line x gender-neutral!reader (written separately per member)

genre: fluff, very light angst, college au

warning: mentions of food and insects

word count: 1.6k words (390-400 words per member)

tag list: @awooghan @hwangsify @xiaoderrrr @cosmic-railwayxo

note: i impulsively wrote this since i am on the brink of getting insane bc of this one project i have... so don’t mind me /hj i’ll probably write the second part/maknae line next week when i am done with the mentioned project lol i hope you enjoy this short hc!

☆ CHAN

since he’s a guy who loves to stay awake all night, it’s no problem for him to join your cramming and procrastinating in projects and exams!

if not, he might be the little devil on your shoulder to stay awake with him, instead of the other way around (which was the original plan) :p

he’ll do everything to not make your eyes close in the study hall!!!

if you’re into coffee, he’ll bring you a cup of coffee of the biggest size from your favorite cafe nearby

or if you’re feeling like eating something sweet to spike up your sugar a little bit, he might buy all of your favorite candies and desserts (including your favorite cakes and pastries) in small portions

so you can have a little bit of everything :>

chan will instantly embrace you if you’re on the brink of breaking down

you can cry on his shoulder (literally) and have him as your pillow whenever you want to give yourself short breaks after long hours of studying

and he’ll never tell this to you: he really enjoys you staying beside him when you guys do your own things

he just finds it comforting‌…

he loves how you don’t feel bothered when there’s someone beside you (him) when you usually prefer to study alone on a normal day

it’s like he’s an exception, he really loves the idea of it :* he loves to joke that you’re so down bad for him! (let’s be real, he’s not lying </3)

so you don’t have to stress out all on your own, chan’s there with you to feel less pressured and worried about your incoming exams and deadlines!

when chan notices that trouble is slowly surfacing on your face, he’ll talk to you a bit to lower your anxiety

he really doesn’t want you to feel very stressed!!!! he hates seeing any negative expression on your face!!!

he’ll feel sad too when you feel sad :(((

being the knight in shining armor, as usual, he’s willing to bring you home whenever you feel like doing so <3

(and you can’t stop him from doing that, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night without knowing that you arrived safely at your home or dormitory!)

chan will definitely send a message that you should not extend your studying at home because you did a lot already when you were with him!

☆ MINHO

minho will probably do everything to make you consider studying in his home

so you can not drown in instant food and fast food and have delicious meals cooked by him from time to time instead <33

also, his cats!!!!!!!

he’ll probably bring soonie, doongie, and dori near you so you can have some comfort whenever he’s not in the room with you, whenever he has to cook, take a shower, and all that jazz

and the three cats seem to make your day every time

it’s like minho communicated with them beforehand about how can you study healthily

when you’re sitting and reading the papers on the desk for too long, one cat will block your way and sit on the papers and books

then another will jump on your lap and ask for your love and affection (just begging you to pet them :D)

and one will constantly meow behind you, already on the bed, so you can take a good nap

when you do get to nap with all of minho’s cats on his bed, he always arrives at the wrong time, apparently

you’re asleep! but he cannot help but feel butterflies in his stomach because you look so cute napping with his beloved kitties :’>

as you instructed him before, he’ll wake you up once you reach your time limit

then he’ll join you to study once you’re back at his desk! :D

minho will definitely pet the cats beside you when you’re endlessly typing on your laptop

just so he can look after you because he does not want you to lose track of his so-called “healthy study session” for you

he’ll definitely scold you when he’ll hear your stomach growling in the middle of the night

because “how can you study with no source of energy?!?!”

he always reminds you to not overwork and don’t pass your limits

when you want to take a longer snooze (especially when it shows from your constant yawning and eye rubbing), he will not hesitate to bring all of your materials to the couch outside of his room

and drag you to his bed!!!!! so he can cuddle you all night and whisper all of his manifestations for your good results in school!!! he believes you will ace the exam, and you did so perfectly in all of your tasks!!!

☆ CHANGBIN

this guy…

oh when you ask him to accompany you to the library

he’ll drop all of his things and find you in an instant!

changbin will take your studies seriously as if he’s the one studying :p

a strict but loving kinda person

he’ll not hesitate to scold you if he sees you sidetracking! lmao </3

but he wouldn’t do that when he knows you’re taking a break

when you feel a little disoriented or frustrated, changbin will give you energy with his powerful hugs!

“my hugs are proven to give you a better mood and more motivation to do whatever you want!!!”

“what if i don’t want to study anymore?”

“that is not included, alright?!”

(he didn’t lie about his hugs making you feel better and energetic again tho ;D there was an immediate effect right when he hugged you tightly for a solid minute)

he does serve as a distraction sometimes because he will lovingly stare at you when he’s at the peak of feeling bored

but when he is dealing with something, changbin will unintentionally bother you by making noises

in conclusion, he gives you a realistic feel of what being a student is

it makes you reassured‌… that how you’re facing academics is considerably normal?

even if changbin did promise you he’ll make sure you’re doing well, it seems like he’s the one who needs some guidance

when he’s aware that he’s not tracking you that frequently anymore, he stops what he’s doing and goes back to staring at you with heart eyes

“how are you doing?” and some good sliding of his water jug on the table to you because you can’t be dehydrated!

he steals your notebook of reminders and asks you if any of the pending deadlines and exams listed should be crossed out already

changbin will drag you out of the library when you have crossed enough pending tasks in your notebook! and take you on a scrumptious dinner date because he knows you deserve it for all the work you’ve done :>

will always pay for your dinner, even if you’re willing to pay

and will probably baby you when he discovers you finished all of your work

“aww let’s order another plate of that food we ordered! you need more good food after that exhausting study time!”

“but my stomach is full already, binnie </3”

☆ HYUNJIN

hyunjin is one worried baby when you tell him you’re in “super study mode”

you refuse to believe that your boyfriend is behaving like a mother

he will visit you and shower you with so much love

it’s like… he wants to lessen your worries :’<

he is willing to do all the chores so you can study without interruptions!!!

he is also willing to feed you so you don’t have to get out of your seat!!!

hyunjin will always be on the go when you need something

his hugs and kisses? he will drag you to your bed and give you some!

his words of encouragement? he has prepared a long list in his head to give you more determination to finish your work!

will never get out of mom mode until you’re done

whenever you update him on your progress, he always congratulates you as if you won a life-changing award

“i am so proud of you!! :DDD” and clapping loudly

that’s because he knows how grueling studying is, and you should be congratulated for being hardworking

he loves to see you snort and laugh at his antics, even if they’re very exaggerated

and he moves and acts exaggeratingly just so you don’t have any direct source of the negative atmosphere

when he notices that you’re slowly sighing heavier than the previous one, he rushes to your side and looks after you literally

he will endlessly peck your face and stroke your hands with his thumbs

“you are doing so well! don’t say that you barely did anything today! you did so much already and i saw all of it!”

if hyunjin thinks you’ve done so much already, he’ll tell you to stop and invite you to take a walk outside with him

it’s a win-win situation because you get to relax by looking at the view of the park and hyunjin can capture beautiful photos and find inspiration for his paintings :DDD

plus, that’s the perfect time for hyunjin to lighten up your mood

“i already washed your toilet btw, i saw a cockroach walk towards me while i was scrubbing! ugh, worst experience ever!”

“what did you do?”

“i hit it with a toilet scrubber too lightly, it was still alive so i ran out of the bathroom for a bit :’D heh”

“where the cockroach went to then?!?! i don’t want cockroaches in my home?!”

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crispy-chan · 2 years

Text

A Song of Ice and Fire

❝ they say the crimson king is as ruthless as the freezing winters of your land...❞

𓏲 PAIRING. prince!minho x princess!reader (ft. guard!jisung x reader)

𓏲 GENRE. fluff, angst; royalty!au, fire-bender!minho & ice-bender!reader, historical drama, action, romance, love triangle/forbidden romance, arranged marriage!au, subzero!au

𓏲 WORD COUNT. 35k

𓏲 WARNINGS. language, mild violence, minho is a jerk at first, cliche asf, mildly suggestive, a brief allusion to assault (but it's stopped before anything happens), blood, injuries and tending to them (i am not a doctor), food, mentions of war and famines, poison, mentions of death, reader gets carried around and has hair that can be put in a ponytail, petnames, includes the rest of skz as various people (TV-14)

𓏲 SUMMARY. when you agreed to marry the prince of the crimson clan in order to sign a peace treaty, it feels like your entire life is crumbling down in front of your eyes. forced to move to another kingdom, you're afraid of being shackled in a loveless marriage. minho's reputation precedes him, and the stories you've heard aren't exactly great. yet the seemingly perfect kingdom has many secrets, along with a dark history that goes beyond anything you would've imagined...

𓏲 A/N. ot related to GoT at all!! just liked the title lol. inspired by the webtoon subZero. this is just a flaming pile of garbage lmfao - i started this fic back in july but i only got like 1k before i gave up. then, i recently picked this story back up since i didn't want to give up on it. a lot of effort went into this, but i recognize that this story isn't perfect. i came to a realization of how much i despise my writing style while i was writing this :<. i'm a tad bit afraid that only like two people will read lol but oh well, we shall see :) on a lighter note, i really hope you enjoy and please don't forget to lmk your thoughts as i'll literally jump with joy :> side note: the reader comes from the azure clan but the royal guard is caled the cerulean guard.

𓏲 SPECIAL THANKS TO. @luvseos for beta reading the prologue-ish part, tysm!! (also, i'm so so sorry i am not able to tag you so i assume you deactivated :( ) @hyuukais and @kurosism for going over the first part of the fic! thank you guys a lot and i really appreciate all of your nice comments and suggestions <3 big thanks to @sw1mmingfoolz for reading through the first part! thank you for all your sweet comments :> and @celestialgyu for going through the entirety of this. I was nearly gonna start crying in the dms tysm <3 @seung-scrittore oh my god leo you are a savior for going through this entire monster!! thank you! i can't stress it enough how grateful i am <33 i really appreciate it :< also sorry for having to correct shitty typos and my malfunctioning grammar lmfao @chaninfused furat thank you for listening to my rambles as i was losing it on main lol. it was really nice and helpful talking to you, especially as your (self proclaimed) no 1 stan lol. also shout out to your arab prince! minho cause i'm still on the agenda and i can't deny i thought of him while writing this. go read danse macabre for some quality prince!minho (and great plot) @choihaiyun for the amazing banner idea/creation <3

MASTERLIST

The night was coated in inky darkness, thunder rumbling outside your window.

It was a cold winter night, heavy snow coating your entire kingdom like a blanket. Loud arguments echoed through the room, various voices from both sides unable to reach an agreement.

You weren't surprised—it was a tough decision to make on your part, or rather, on your uncle's part. The men from the Crimson clan appeared in your kingdom a few days ago with an unexpected offer: a peace treaty. After many years of war, your entire kingdom was in ruins and it came to no one's surprise that your uncle jumped at the opportunity to finally end the conflict that had been going on for over a century.

That was, however, before he had heard the details of said treaty, and after finding out what the last requirement was, he was about to turn it down at lightning speed.

That's when you suddenly stood up, dusting the imaginary specks of dust from your finest gown—the one you were ordered to wear tonight.

“Enough!” you shouted over the loud voices in the room.

Everyone, both your people and the people of the Crimson clan, immediately turned their heads towards you in surprise, not expecting such an outburst from the crown princess. You'd been silent the entire meeting, choosing to keep quiet and let them talk, but you'd had enough. Everybody was speaking over you, arguing over your future like it was some sort of commodity; nobody even bothered to ask you what you wanted.

Taking a deep breath, you finally whispered, “I agree to the marriage.”

. ˚✧・* •

flashback

“A little bit tighter,” you said to Mina, your maid, who was tightening your dress from the back.

It was currently almost five o'clock and you had a meeting with some officials from the Crimson clan in about fifteen minutes.

To your utter surprise, it was them who first reached out to you on forming an alliance. The war had been going on for over a hundred years and your clan was on the brink of extinction.

Pushed back from the mainland, most of your colonies and settlements now laid offshore on secluded islands in the north.

Your once prosperous nation was now a shell of its former self, ridden with poverty, famine, and death.

To put it simply, the Crimson clan massacred your entire nation and left it in ruins.

Every day, you awoke to the howling of hungry citizens who were freezing in their little cabins with nothing to eat, nothing to do. The war had left its imprint on your nation and if you didn’tdo anything soon, nothing would be left of the once prosperous clan.

You fiddled with your sleeve nervously as you walked down the hallway, both Chan and Jisung right behind you. This was a major meeting and they'd rather be found dead than not accompany you on such an important day. The three of you had been through so much growing up side by side, and they were the only people you could consider friends.

Sweat was beginning to line your forehead as you nervously stopped in front of the grand entrance.

Jisung immediately rushed to hold the door open for you and you offered him a grateful nod, taking a deep breath before you entered the den of lions.

Lifting up your dress slightly, you bowed down to the visitors before taking a seat by your uncle.

Ever since your father died in the war, he was the one to temporarily rule the kingdom until a new ruler would arise. Despite his rather meek and quiet nature, he tried his best to be a strong and dependable leader for your people. Unlike your father, however, he was never a good strategist so he left most of the tactical details to Chan—captain of the Cerulean guard and his right-hand man.

The thin cushion you were sitting on proved to be rather uncomfortable after a full hour. During this time, Felix—the general and minister of foreign affairs (and the crown prince's cousin)—unrolled a scroll handed to him by one of his servants. The fiery red emblem of the Crimson clan shone on the creamy piece of parchment, making you feel even more stressed than you thought was possible.

As his slim fingers worked to crack the seal, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat. This tiny piece of paper would determine your future, along with the future of your entire kingdom.

And despite the Crimson guard arriving with words of peace, you couldn't help but stay alert. You felt uneasy as you watched the cunning man's lips tug into a smirk, reading the terms and conditions.

“Lastly, due to the unusual grounds for the treaty, the royal court requires that the Crown Princess is to be wed to Crown Prince Minho, effective immediately.”

. ˚✧・* •

A thick silence engulfed the three of you as you sat in the carriage, too stunned to speak. Or at least you were. The consequences of your words weighed down on you like a heavy blanket, enveloping you in darkness from which you felt as if there was no way out.

Turning your head to your two most loyal men (and friends, of course), you couldn't help but notice how tense they were. Chan, always one to put others before himself, tried to mask the unease but you saw it clear as day in his eyes.

He was afraid.

Meanwhile, Jisung didn't even bother to hide his emotions. A scowl was painted across his pretty lips as his hands clenched into fists. He was staring out the window, almost as if he didn't want you to see the burning rage in his eyes.

A sigh left your parted lips as you fixed your gaze on the village you were passing by. All the people seemed to be happy, the roads were clean and flowers blossomed from every little garden. It only reminded you of how little your people back home had.

You felt a pang of guilt in your heart.

I failed my kingdom.

You weren't able to protect your land. It was a sad realization, but it was the truth. It was the reason you had agreed to be shipped off to Crown Prince Minho as an appeasement gift in the first place. It hurt your pride, there was no doubt about that, but it was your duty.

Not because you were a brave princess ready to do anything for her kingdom. The thought of fleeing came across your mind several times, however, there was a bitter reason why you never even considered it an option.

You had nowhere to go.

Your entire land had been occupied by the Crimson Guard for over two decades now. Not to mention that anywhere you'd go, you'd still be recognized as the Crown Princess of the Azure clan. There were probably hundreds of people who wanted you gone, and if you ever set foot in the neighboring kingdom without an official treaty, you were as good as dead.

You've heard lots of things about Prince Minho.

And honestly, they weren't that great. Quite the contrary—the word around was that he was an unimaginable brute, bitter from the loss of his older brother whom he loved dearly. You winced at the thought of having to meet the man.

You've never met him personally—not many people have—but stories of his staggering beauty traveled to your kingdom too. They say his eyes are as sharp and cunning as those of a dragon and that if you look into them for too long, you'll get burned.

Clenching your hands by your side, you sighed, perching your head against the glass as the demons of sleep slowly overtook you.

. ˚✧・* •

“Y/N, wake up!” you heard a hushed whisper as someone lightly shook your body. “Y/N!”

With a gasp, you shot up, hurriedly looking from side to side. “It's okay, Princess, it's just us,” Jisung murmured in a low voice, the voice he used only when talking to you. As the familiar tone reverberated in your head, you released the breath you were holding, placing your hand on your chest to calm your erratic heartbeat.

“S-Sorry, Ji… just another nightmare…”

“Don't worry, I'm here,” his hand slid down your cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

Jisung's serious tone made Chan snort, shaking his head at the two of you and the obliviousness you both possessed. The boy looked at you with adoration and love, like you held the Milky Way in your eyes, while you never said anything, presumably not realizing how deep his feelings for you ran.

Or perhaps, Chan had it all wrong and you loved him back… he couldn't be sure, however, that would be even worse. The three of you were about to enter the Crimson palace, the land of the enemy, to offer a treaty. Your entire land's future relied on how well the deal would go, how merciful would the Crown Prince be. There was no way in hell Jisung would knowingly risk the future of your country by getting chummy with you, who was supposed to be wed to him, the Prince, as an “appeasement gift” of sorts.

Chan never really understood the whole royalty schtick.

Sure, he was a royal guard (the captain, in fact) and it was his duty to protect the Princess, but when he was a young teen who just started out at the academy, he had no idea of the inner workings of the palace.

He wasn't aware of all the things that were done behind the curtains, all the hushed deals, and secret affairs. However, most of all, he never would've expected to see you, the little girl whom he knew since she could walk on her own two feet (or rather waddle, to be precise), be wed to someone like Prince Minho.

Nevertheless, the man couldn't help but scoff, a small smile appearing on his lips, despite his best attempt to hide it.

Ever since he was a little boy, Jisung had this sense of duty and obligation to protect you. He was closer to your age than him, so it was natural that the two of you were closer with each other than you ever were with him. Or perhaps it was too natural.

With a light thud, the door to your carriage opened, and a young guard held out his hand for you to take. Ignoring the glare Jisung shot the poor boy, you gladly accepted his hand, slipping your gloved palm into his and walking down the steps till your feet were securely on the ground.

Upon stepping down, you were immediately taken aback. The Crimson Palace was simply divine. The humongous building extended as far as the eye could see, offering a horizontal view of the ancient-looking (but well kept) structure. Despite wanting to appear proper and lady-like, you couldn't prevent your jaw from dropping in awe.

“This is… wow,” you whispered, tongue darting to moisten your lips.

Your throat suddenly felt very dry.

It was then that you noticed how warm the climate was. The surcoat with the traditional fox-fur lining began to feel heavy on your shoulders and you realized that for the first time in years, you actually felt warm outside.

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice murmured in your ear, tugging on your sleeve. “Do you think it's him?”

You didn't have to even ask who Jisung was talking about. A cloud of worry washed over you as you immediately straightened your posture, expecting the Prince to appear from behind the swarm of guards to welcome you.

You were left disappointed though, as the person who emerged from the crown wasn't the Prince. Rather, the man that came forward was one you recognized immediately.

He was the one who came to your kingdom prior to your arrival. Felix was his name, if you recalled correctly. The pleasant smile he showed you when he was in your homeland was gone and instead replaced with a sour expression that did nothing but show his distaste for you.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you clenched your hands in worry, momentarily allowing your gaze to drop down.

“Why's he the one greeting you?” Jisung spat out, standing in front of you protectively as if attempting to shield you with his own body. Chan too stepped in front of the two of you, hand immediately reaching for the sword by his side as if preparing for the worst.

“Where is the Prince?” he spat out lowly, his voice audibly dropping an octave. Usually, this would result in the opponents quivering in their boots. Chan could be a scary man when he wanted to and he wasn't afraid to unleash his more deadly side if it meant he would adhere to his duties.

Alas, it seemed like this trick wasn't enough to scare the Crimson soldiers.

A mere chuckle left general Felix's lips as he gestured for the men around him to disperse. Once the soldiers weren't coming directly at you, Chan stepped away with a sigh, recognizing that you were no longer in imminent danger.

Unlike Chan, however, Jisung never left the spot in front of you, his hand still protectively wrapped around your waist. The glare he was giving the Crimson Land's general was pretty intense if you'd take into account that the man was several ranks higher than him and could obliterate the three of you with a single snap of his fingers.

“Jisung!” Chan whisper-shouted from next to you, tugging his younger friend's sleeve. “Stop it.”

The boy shot another nasty glare, this time in his captain's direction, making his eyes widen. Chan was about to yank him from his position when suddenly, your voice rang through the air, clear as day.

“Jisung! I appreciate your concerns, however, I need to meet with the officials of the Crimson Land. Don't forget that we're the guests setting foot in a foreign kingdom.” Your eyes met over his shoulder. Then, with a softened tone, you continued, “I'm gonna be okay, don't worry.”

Maybe it was the strong imploration in your eyes, but Chan suspected that it was more likely the fact that you gently placed your palm on his shoulders that made the young boy step back. It wasn't the first time that the young lieutenant got into a fit and had to be coaxed by you to get back in line.

As a seasoned general of the army, Felix was quite impressed by your commanding tone and by how you managed to convince what seemed like a typical low-rank brat into listening to reason. Nevertheless, he didn't let it show, instead, focused on you—the future Princess of the Crimson Land.

Right?… wrong.

“What is the meaning of this, General?” Chan suddenly spoke up, confused as to why the Prince wasn't already here greeting you and welcoming you to the palace as was customary. You may come from a poorer land than his, but still, you were a princess.

His future wife for god's sake.

“The nerve of this man,” he growled under his breath, clenching his fists. “Where is His Highness? Shouldn't he be here welcoming the Princess?”

From the tone his voice took, you could tell that Chan was losing his patience. You tried to calm him the same way you would Jisung. Unfortunately, you did not have that effect on him. Chan simply shook your hand off but took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat.

“Sadly, the Prince could not join us now. He had some other important duties he had to tend to. Fear not, His Highness's schedule has been cleared for the evening. He and the Princess may meet in the latter hours of the day.”

“What other duties could he have that are more important than meeting the Princess?!” Jisung scoffed, folding his hands over his chest to show his distaste. He bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance, sending another glare to the General. The man looked quite… young for his age, and Jisung couldn't help but realize that he must be really skilled to have earned the general's title in his early twenties. Hell, the man looked like he was younger than Chan!

“Now,” Felix continued, “I believe it is my duty to show the Princess around the palace.”

. ˚✧・* •

You would think that Felix was relishing in the way you cowered as you were made to follow him around the palace. Behind every corner, crook, and cabinet, there were at least half a dozen of maids or other palace staff gossiping about you.

“I heard that she begged for His Highness to marry her! She's only after his fortune ”

“Supposedly, she stole food from the food supply, letting her own people go hungry!”

“They say she has an awful temper and hits her own maids!”

“Don't mind them,” he rumbled, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. “It's just idle gossip. They don't have anything else to talk about.”

‘Yeah sure,’ you thought. As if he wasn't smirking at the prospect of your humiliation. He had all the power to order them to stop, yet he let the rumors spread like wildfire instead, leaving you to walk over the scorching trail of embarrassment.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, almost as if trying to create a shield between you and their hurtful words, you let out a muffled whimper.

“H-How did these rumors even spread? I never did anything of this sort…”

The General smirked, his head turning away from you as he gazed at the lush gardens of the palace. “That, Princess, I wonder too…”

. ˚✧・* •

The clock struck seven when the maids were tightening your dress. It had been almost three hours since you'd arrived at the palace. General Felix took you on a lengthy tour of the kingdom's grounds and showed you to your chambers.

Despite feeling sad and lonely, there was no denying how beautiful the Crimson Land was. From the majestic palm trees lining the path to the main gate to the Palace itself, you were still in awe.

How could a building look so beautiful, like it was taken straight from The Tales From the Thousand and One Nights?

You wondered if the Prince was beautiful too… it was no secret that Lee Minho was considered one of the most attractive princes to have graced the face of Earth. The tales of his beauty and intellect reached even the most secluded corners of the Azure Land. Yet these whispers shared amongst the people were also filled with anecdotes of his cruelty and apathy.

You knew more than to believe baseless rumors spread by servants, but the story of his older brother's brutal death was one that everyone knew by heart. It was supposedly this tragic event that caused the Prince's heart to turn into ice…

A loud knock could be heard as the maids secured the last hairpin into your hair.

“Come in,” you stated, praying that your voice wasn't quivering. You fiddled with the hems of your delicately sewn sleeves, attempting to keep the anxiety at bay.

A young man, somewhere around your age, entered the chambers with an unrolled piece of parchment. “The General request your presence in ten minutes. He will accompany you to meet His Highness.”

The way he addressed you informally wasn't lost on you, yet you didn't even find it in you to bother getting angry. Instead, you nodded, gathering the heaps of your skirts before standing up.

You followed the boy into the upper floor of the palace, immediately noticing the sudden change in setting. Although never too pressed on luxury and the way your sleeping quarters looked, it was pretty hard to miss how much more lavish and decorated this floor was. Despite this sudden discovery, you tried to stop the inevitable train of thought that you were building up to.

Perhaps you were kept on the other floor for… security reasons.

Yeah… it was bullshit… you knew. And since you were already self-conscious enough about the deal, it made it even worse.

‘Don't dwell on it, Y/N,’ you whispered to yourself as you were strolling down the hall. ‘There's nothing you can do…’

Swiftly, one of the mahogany doors burst open, General Felix walking out of the room clad in his finest robes. His platinum hair was slicked back and held up by a single hairpin, giving him a more mature and aged look. He gave you his signature smirk (one that promised no good), nodding to the man who brought you and dismissing him promptly.

“Follow me, Princess.”

Hoping to keep up with the General's fast pace, you sped up slightly, the heels of your expensive crystal shoes clicking against the marble floor.

Suddenly, the man stilled, his steps coming to a halt. You squeaked, almost bumping into him, but luckily, you managed to stop right before making contact with his body, dodging the first of many bullets that were to come at you.

“His Majesty is in the last chamber on your left. No need to knock, you can simply walk straight in. He has been anticipating you for the entire evening.”

Taking a deep breath, you start walking towards the door, unclenching your hands that were balled into fists. ‘This is it,’ you thought. ‘I'm finally going to meet the Prince… my future husband.’

Even simply hearing the word itself made you unconsciously shudder, unsure of how to feel about this.

The dark, oak doors to His Majesties chambers were rather plain, you noticed. Unlike the Generals', there were no golden plaques or anything lavish that would point to the crown Prince living there.

You couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not.

Heeding general Felix's advice, you reach for the door handle. Fingers tightly gripping at the cold metal, you felt chills run down your spine as you opened the door, walking straight into a lavishly decorated room.

The shelves were filled with artifacts and scrolls, some of them looking more than two hundred years old. A thick aroma of rose and patchouli wafted through your nostrils, attacking your senses. A loud cough tore from your throat as you covered your mouth in hopes of blocking any more of the scent. It felt like you just inhaled a bottle of the most precious bath oils.

Taking a few more steps, you found yourself standing in front of a silk curtain. Looking back, maybe you should've realized that the entire setting was rather… unusual. Later that evening, you would curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

You blamed it on the giddiness from meeting the Prince, or perhaps it was a morbid sort of curiosity that led you to tug at the curtain which revealed…

The crown Prince changing?!?!

A gasp left your parted lips, alerting him of your immediate presence. You were met with a handsome man in his early twenties, clad in form-fitting trousers and a shirt half pulled over his torso. His toned chest gleamed back on you, lingering droplets of water gliding down the smooth planes of pale skin.

A loud cough made you jerk, realizing that you were staring at the Prince who was currently half-naked.

The Prince.

When that last bit sunk in, you yelped, hastily covering your eyes to block your view of the man.

“I-I… I'm-m sorry, Your Highness. I d-didn't mean to—”

Pulling down his silk shirt, the Prince's lips were tugged into a tight line as he watched you fumble with your words, arms crossing over his chest. Though he managed to conceal it, your intrusion managed to throw him off. A smirk appeared at the corner of his lips when he spotted how flustered you were.

Sensing that you weren't going to finish your sentence anytime soon, Minho waited for a couple of seconds, just to make sure, before he started walking away, completely ignoring your presence—as if you weren't even there.

You almost cowered under his menacing aura.

As you watched the back of your future husband turn on you, a sudden pang in your chest made you do the unthinkable: you reached out and grabbed his arm.

The way he stopped in his tracks made your heart beat like crazy, and for a second, you almost forgot how to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, his lips finally parted as he uttered a sentence that would haunt you for the coming days.

“Let go.”

. ˚✧・* •

After the rather embarrassing encounter with Prince Minho, you ran out of the room in tears, barely managing to hold in your sobs. Out of all the ways you could've met him for the first time, you had to walk in on him while he was changing (courtesy of general Felix—that man really must hate your guts).

Since you heard all the horrible rumors about him, you had hoped you could at least make a good first impression. Hell, even decent would be fine. Well, as always, fate throws fortune, but not everyone catches.

The way you're running down the hall feels most improper.

You're holding your robes high, so as not to trip over them, and waterfalls of tears are streaming down your face. Perhaps you were overreacting… no—scratch that—you were overreacting, no doubt.

You couldn't find proper reasoning for this onslaught of emotions. Was it caused by all the recent stress surrounding the engagement? Or perhaps the fact that you were anticipating this moment, imagining in your head how this exact meeting would go.

Wiping the tears from your face with the back of your hand, you sobbed.

“Why… w-why me?”

As you turned around the corner, you were too preoccupied with your current situation to pay attention to your surroundings. You didn't notice the person walking ahead until it was too late.

“Ouch!” you whimpered when you bumped into a sturdy chest, rough hands reaching to steady you at your waist. “You okay?”

Raising your head slowly, you stood up upright, coming face to face with Jisung. His sparkling orbs scanned over your face, taking in the redness of your eyes and your tear-soaked cheeks.

He looked as if he was going to say something, yet instead, he bit down on his lip, holding in whatever angry exclamation that was forming at the tip of his tongue. He shouldn't raise his voice… not when you were so visibly shaken.

“What's the matter, Princess?”

His voice was laced with concern, perhaps a smidgen of anger, and it almost made you choke on your sobs. Your fingers deftly gripped onto the sleeves of his coat as you tried to calm your breathing. His arms felt so warm and inviting that you almost wanted to burry yourself into his chest and forget about everything that just happened.

Carefully peeling your eyes from the ground, you gazed into his, blinking away the tears as you shook your head, letting him know you didn't want to talk about it. Instead, you lurched forward, whispering, “please… just hold me.”

Jisung almost felt his heart snap when he heard you utter those words, holding onto his last bits of restraint like a man thrown overboard would onto a wooden plank. Bending over, the young lieutenant slid his hands under your knees picking you up bridal style.

“Let's go somewhere more private.”

. ˚✧・* •

Turns out that the Crimson Palace offered plenty of nooks and crannies perfect for late-night talks.

“Please… stop it, Jisung. It's embarrassing…” you whined, swatting his hand away. He had been pestering you for the past few minutes to tell him what happened. After he scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the east wing of the palace, Jisung spent almost an hour simply holding you close, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back and caressing your hair.

His comforting touch allowed you to calm down and unwind, an effect he's had you since childhood.

“We've known each other since we were kids,” he exclaimed. “Whatever it is, I won't think you're embarrassing. Plus, I need to find whoever hurt you and give them a piece of my mind!”

You stifled a chuckle. “Geez, good luck with that. I heard that the Prince is an excellent swordsman.”

Jisung spluttered, eyes bulging out of his skull. “The Prince made you cry?! Goddamn, does he have no shame? I'm going to—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, you cut in with a shy giggle, placing your palm on his shoulder. “It's okay, Ji. honestly, I can't even blame him. You know… it was me who walked in on him while he was changing. He must've been just as taken aback as I was,” you sighed.

“Still—” Jisung whined, a pout appearing on his lips, “—he had no business being so mean to you. And that snake Felix!” he exclaimed, anger returning to his tone. “What's his deal?”

A few minutes passed, the two of you sitting on the balcony and enjoying the sunset as the golden hues mixed with the pink ones, creating a wonderful pallet on the sky. Jisung's arm slowly progressed from being propped against the cold marble to securing its (rightful, in his opinion) position around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

Inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, you let your aching body relax, almost melting into his hold. His warm, protective hold, the only one that reminded you of how a mother would hold her child. You always felt safe in his arms.

A sudden ache in your stomach made you realize how hungry you were. Your lips curled into a pout as you exhaled, making Jisung turn around. “You're hungry?”

“Jisung—” you dragged out the last syllable of his name in a teasing way, just like you did when you two were kids. “How could you tell? I was just thinking about getting something to eat.”

The boy chuckled, glancing down before gazing back into your eyes. “I've known you for ages, Princess. I know the face you make when you're hungry, when you're tired, when you're annoyed. I was practically raised to guard you and make sure you're satisfied at all times.”

His tone took a rather nostalgic sound and you swallowed thickly at all the fond memories you've shared with him. “I suppose that's true. Nobody understands me like you do, Jisung.”

“Right? The two of us are perfect for each other!”

Suddenly, your throat felt oddly dry. You were perfectly aware of what Jisung was getting at with this statement, his true intentions clear as the sky on a summer night. And perhaps it was fate that brought you together yet again as Jisung gazed into your eyes, a loving smile across his lips.

Then, quickly, as if he was afraid he would lose the courage, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. It all happened in a flash, Jisung's arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, your hands sliding into his hair, gripping onto the locks tightly—as if your life depended on it.

Your head was spinning, the air around you heavy, and the only thing you could pay attention to was Jisungs warm lips molding against yours. It was almost like the world around you stopped spinning, everything—including your surroundings—forgotten in favor of the man in front of you.

It was intoxicating, addicting, heated—like a hot summer evening—and you melted into his embrace like the tip of an iceberg fighting against the last rays of the Sun.

Suddenly, a loud clank could be heard, one akin to someone dropping a heavy object. You and Jisung immediately separated from each other, fear written in both of your eyes. His palm pressed against his mouth, fingers caressing his lips as if he still couldn't believe what he was done.

“Shit!” he whispered. “What have we done?”

This was wrong. Everything that just happened was wrong. How could you have allowed him to kiss you? If anyone saw you, you were done for…

“Y-Y/N–” Jisung stuttered, tears materializing at the corners of his eyes. “I'm s-so sorry… I swear I didn't mean to—I have no idea what came over me–”

“–Jisung,” you cut in, realizing that he was about to spiral. Jisung always put up this tough persona, pretending that he was okay and nothing bothered him, but over the years, you've learned to tell when he was in one of those moods. Push and pull, like the tides of the ocean, your understanding of each other was a two-way street, reliant on how the two of you experienced the presence of the other.

“What happened right now was certainly…” you took a deep breath, just a step too close to freaking out. “Improper. Neither of us should have engaged in such acts. As such, we should never ever speak of it, understood?”

You peered at him from under your lashes, hoping to coax more than just an empty stare from him. Luckily, the boy swallowed thickly, but nonetheless nodded, focusing his entire attention on you.

“That's not to say though that I didn't enjoy the kiss.” You grabbed his hand in yours, shyly looking away. “There's a reason I reciprocated, Jisung. Make no mistake.”

The look he gave you was almost as painful as the expression he made when he first heard that you would be moving away. Like a man starved of his deepest, darkest desires. By telling him that you felt these feelings, these tender emotions reserved for people in love, you were letting him know that although he scored in the first alley (by winning your love), there were other circumstances that would prevent the two of you from taking your relationship anywhere further.

He would have to watch you wed, not to mention he would have to be present during the ceremony. And that's not to say that he wasn't capable of being happy for you—he was, but there was a small seed of doubt that was planted in his mind before you even left your kingdom.

Would you be truly happy?

Or rather, would Prince Minho make you happy?

The tales and rumors that surrounded the… cold-hearted nature of the Prince were known to all. In the back of his mind, Jisung had already performed an assessed judgment of Minho and his entire persona. And he came to a very simple conclusion.

That bastard did not deserve you.

A sudden fluttery motion materialized in the corner of his eye—you were waving your hand in front of him, hoping to catch his attention.

“We should go.” The words fell from his mouth in a quick breath as he shot up, grabbing your hand and running towards the direction of your bed chambers.

“Wait, Jisung!” You exclaimed, trying to shake off his much too powerful grip on your wrist. It was no use—as a trained guard, he was leaps stronger than you and your pleas fell on deaf ears. “Calm down, please.”

“I can't, Y/N. I'm sorry, I've dishonored you. It's my duty to bring you to your chambers as quickly as possible—that's the least I can do.”

A choked sob leaves your throat. But you know that he's right—all that's left for you to do is pray that no one saw you. Relaxing into his grip, you allow the lieutenant to walk you in front of your door.

“Goodnight, Princess,” he whispered, giving you a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“Goodnight, Ji…”

. ˚✧・* •

“What were you thinking?!”

Chan's voice rang loud and clear, cutting through the crisp morning air. The Captain measured his subordinate with a bewildered glare, fumes almost seeping from the top of his head.

When he saw the way Jisung nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt, eyes cast downwards, something tugged at his heartstrings, making his gaze soften.

“Jisung,” his tone was now calmer and quieter, barely above a whisper. “Why did you do that?”

The younger boy snorted, “Out of all the things you could've asked me, I never expected you would ask that.”

Chan raised his perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You're not gonna say anything? I expected you would have at least a proper excuse.” When Jisung stayed silent, he sighed, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, “Why did you kiss her?”

“You know the answer to that just as well as I do. Don't make me say it out loud…”

He sounded broken, like some higher power sucked all the life out of him, leaving only a shell of his former being behind. And Chan hated it. He hated how things had to pan out. He hated himself for not realizing that something like that was bound to happen.

He watched the two of you grow up, side by side. Like two peas in a pod. Jisung and Y/N. the princess and her guard. The two of you spent all your free time together, getting into all sorts of trouble. Chan wanted to kick himself for not putting an end to this fairytale love story before it got out of hand.

Another thought raced through his mind. “Did anyone see you?”

The way Jisung avoided his gaze made it perfectly clear.

. ˚✧・* •

The next morning, you woke up to the birds chirping outside your window. The view from your chamber was so idyllic you almost forgot the events of yesterday evening.

Slipping from under the covers, a loud pounding in your head made you stumble as you whimpered, steadying your hand against the wall. For the first time in months, you placed your hand against your head, closing your eyes as the ice began to cool you down.

You hated using your powers.

They reminded you of all the horrid events in your life, all the things you wanted to leave behind. Yet for some reason, you only felt relief. Like the familiar feeling of ice crystals seeping from the tips of your fingers reminded you of the few happy memories you shared with your parents.

Paddling towards the heavy door, you pushed it open, peeping down the nearly empty hallway. Suddenly, the smell of freshly baked rolls and the sweetest fruit wafted through your nose, making you sigh in delight. It had been ages since you last ate, and the loud grumble of your stomach made you realize that fetching some breakfast wouldn't be so bad after all…

You followed the delicious scent of food down one of the more secluded halls until you reached a heavy mahogany door. The sight made you shudder as you remembered yesterday's events. Luckily for you, the Prince was likely dining in the main dining room, and not in the small, hidden corner of the east wing. Using all your strength, you pushed against the door.

And curse your luck cause once again, you ended up face to face with Prince Minho.

Sweat broke out on your forehead as you took a step back, ready to run out the door and disappear.

“Good morning, Princess,” the General's voice drawled, making your skin crawl. The smirk painted across his lips made you want to throw up, remembering how he purposefully made you walk in on Minho just so that you'd leave a bad impression.

“M-Morning. I'm really s-sorry, I didn't mean to i-interrupt—”

“—nonsense. You're not interrupting, am I right, Your Majesty?”

Minho scowled, redirecting his attention back to the vegetable omelet that lay in front of him.

“I should probably go–” you whispered, reaching for the door handle. The air in the room was thick and heavy, weighing down on you uncomfortably.

“Stay. I'm sure the Prince would like to hear about your first day in his kingdom. Right?” Felix nudged the man, feigning innocence.

“Whatever, Lee. I'll be leaving soon, anyway.”

The general looked back at you, flashing you a bright smile. “It's settled then. Please help yourself.”

Metaphorically backed into a corner, there was nothing left for you to do, other than accept his (insincere) offer. A sigh escaped your lips as you sat down, smoothing the hem of your silk nightgown, suddenly feeling insecure. Had you known that you would dine with him, you would've dressed more appropriately.

“So, Y/N, do you mind telling us how your first day went?” Felix piped while gracefully cutting his pancakes into manageable pieces and dipping them in honey. You couldn't help but notice the dangerous glint in his eyes, a shiver running down your spine.

“It went rather well, although, I didn't really get to explore much of the palace.” You proclaimed, bitting down on a piece of fresh fruit. “I was hoping I could get to go outside and see the villagers too—you know—to get acquainted with the people.”

A smug smile appeared on Felix's face as he pretended that you piqued his interest. “Well, I'm sure that you got to explore other things last night, am I right?”

Your brow shot up, not understanding what he was getting at when suddenly, it hit you. The color drained from your face as you put together two and two, realizing what he meant. Felix noticed the sudden change of attitude, smiling proudly as he took yet another jab at you.

When you make no efforts to explain, he continued, “I am curious though, where did you go after meeting His Majesty?”

The heat rose to your cheeks as you stumbled to answer him without saying anything suspicious.

“I-I was looking for the way back to my bed chambers, but due to my limited knowledge of the palace, I got lost.”

Another snicker. “And did someone, perhaps help you find your way?”

“Y-Yeah… I met one of my guards and he escorted me back to my room.”

“I see. You must be really grateful to have met him, Princess. So grateful that you—”

“Enough!”

Minho's voice sounded much too irritated as he cut his General off before he managed to say anything else. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized what this meant. He knew. He knew exactly what happened between the two of you and he wasn't happy about it.

“Felix, I think we should allow the Princess some privacy. The meeting starts in fifteen minutes.”

You allowed yourself to nervously peer at Minho through your lashes, instantly regretting your decision. When your eyes met, there was so much anger and hostility in them that you shuddered.

“It was very nice talking to you,” Felix winked as he and the Prince walked out, leaving you to drown in your sorrows.

The sound of the door slamming echoed in your head.

. ˚✧・* •

The branches fluttered in the wind, flapping from one side to another, guided by the howling air. You sat perched on one of the benches deep in the gardens, hidden from view.

For the past few days, you roamed around the palace, trying your best to stay hidden from Prince Minho and Jisung.

Steering clear of the Prince proved to be a rather easy task—there was no reason for you to want to spend time with him and vice versa. But avoiding Jisung… that ended up being a lot more difficult than you initially anticipated.

Not that the two of you crossed paths that often, rather, it was the strong pang of guilt in your heart whenever you passed him. Whether he was sparring, practicing, or patrolling the palace grounds with Chan, your heart would break at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes and the generally lifeless energy he exuded.

Little by little, the loneliness slowly got to you, devouring you like a deadly plague until nothing was left. The darkness consumed you in its entirety, and with no one to turn to, you felt like it was you against the world.

The dark clouds in the sky were a perfect visualization of how you currently felt.

Speaking of clouds, you could tell that a storm was coming, thunder beginning to rumble in the background. There was no use sitting like a duck and getting wet.

Gathering the hefty skirts of your azure robe, you stood up, dusting off the dirt from your hands. A heavy raindrop fell from the sky, splattering against your skin. With a sigh, you picked up your pace, running towards the main gate.

. ˚✧・* •

You learned that spending hours at the library isn't something one can just stop doing.

Well, to be fair, there wasn't much for you to do, other than burying your nose in a book, but it still brought back many cherished memories from your childhood. Before the accident. Before all your troubles. Back when your biggest concern was when the sequel of your favorite series would arrive.

The action itself held no real value to you, but it was the idea it represented. It allowed you to pretend that you were just another person in academia, studying to make something of yourself. There was no pressure to be perfect, to marry, to listen to your husband.

It was just you and the bulky, leather-bound tomes. The scrolls made out of quality parchment that smelled like home. Just you and the scent of fresh ink.

The book that was currently perched up on your lap was rather interesting.

“The Crimson Clan; Tales from the Depths and Crevices of the Most Prosperous Nation”

Despite its somewhat… jarring name, the contents of it were rather straightforward and simple. Everything you'd possibly want to know about your new homeland was in here. The foundation, history, and rebirth of this thriving land—all were explained in the most thorough of details.

You even found yourself smiling while reading through the chapter on festivities and celebrations. It stirred something within you, to know that these people were fortunate enough to have so much to celebrate.

Ignoring the slight pang of jealousy in your heart—one caused by the unfortunate circumstances of your war-stricken, poverty-afflicted nation—it allowed you to feel something you haven't felt in a long time.

Something dangerous... Hope.

An emotion you had long given up on after seeing your land in ruins and your people in pain. You cursed yourself for allowing something that could threaten the alliance to even happen.

It seemed like there was no chance for the Crown prince to love you—which hurt you more than you admitted to yourself—but it didn't matter. Marriage out of love was rare anyway. So in hopes of preserving the deal, you decided that you would try your best to win the favor of Lee Minho.

Sans love, romance, or affection.

You would make sure that you'd see this treaty to the end.

. ˚✧・* •

The wind tonight was light and breezy, like a whiff of fresh peonies on a spring morning.

After many days of locking yourself in the library, your joints were aching, leading you to believe that you deserved a bit of a break.

You spent the better half of the week reading through many volumes of the ‘The Crimson Clan’ series, learning everything there was to know about your new homeland. It was certainly difficult, more difficult than you first imagined it to be, but after hours spent cramped in the corner of the library, things were starting to look up.

The unfamiliar words and phrases were starting to clear up, having read them enough times to learn their true meanings. The unusual ways of the nation inked on the pages were beginning to make sense after you understood a little bit of how they were thinking, and the festivals and celebrations were becoming more comprehensible as you read of their origins.

You even kept a small notebook by your side at all times, jotting down the new words you've learned and organizing your thoughts and opinions.

A loud growl of your stomach made panic, looking around in fear that someone saw you. It was rather stupid—there was no one around—but the dread of someone seeing you in such an… unladylike state made you tremble.

Fortunately—just as you predicted—no one was around to witness the embarrassing sounds of your stomach. And maybe this was a sign that you should take a break, and perhaps, get something small to eat.

There's a light bounce to your step as you walk down the empty halls, humming a tune you heard the royal quartet play. The birds were chirping and the weather was lovely—making you suddenly regret that you spent the past days holed up in the library.

“What do you think you're doing?!”

The loud scream had you stopping in your tracks. What was going on?

“I-I'm s-so sorry. I-I was told to c-collect a-all the laundry. P-Please, don't p-punish me,” Came the answer in a much quieter voice.

Turning around the corner, you found a small group of people crowded around two; a servant and a guard. Immediately, you could tell that the guard was threatening the young girl, as she was backed into a corner, eyes wide as a laundry basket lay discarded by her feet.

“How dare you go through my drawers without permission?” he barked, ears turning red in fury. The girl only took a step back, quivering as she realized she hit the wall. “I won't let this slide!”

“Enough!”

All eyes were on you as you walked up to the guard, fuming. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Y-Your Majesty—” he stuttered, anger slowly dissipating, “I was only chastising this, this foolish maid for going through my room!”

You shook your head. “There's no reason for you to yell at her like that for such a simple mistake. You could've explained what she did wrong without scaring her like that.”

You gestured for the girl to come to you, sanding in front of her protectively. Giving her a smile, you remarked, “If he ever gives you any trouble, come to me immediately.”

The man's face turned beet red in embarrassment as he looked down at his feet. “And you, if I ever hear that you're bothering her, you'll be on laundry duty for the next week!”

There was a loud chorus of laughter that followed and the people around you slowly started to scatter, leaving only you and the young maid. She looked to be a few years younger than you.

“T-Thank you, Your Majesty,” she bowed, shyly looking away.

“It's okay. Assholes have to be put in their place, right?”

She didn't laugh.

Embarrassed by your little joke not landing well, you reached out to gently pat her hair. “What's your name?”

“Yuna.”

She was still shaken up, you could tell by her closed-off stance. “Well, Yuna, I think you were very brave today. I'm really sorry you had to go through this, please don't hesitate to reach out to me if anything like that happens again.”

With a wave of your hand, you saw her off, smiling widely as you walked down the hall.

. ˚✧・* •

“Your Majesty—” you ignored the calls of the young servant, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “I'm fine, don't worry.”

“Please, Your Majesty… you've done nothing else than reorganize these scrolls for the past few days! You have to rest…”

“No, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm glad to be of some use.”

You moved another section of scrolls and loose leaves of parchment down on the floor, wiping down the shelf with a wet rag. After making sure the surface was perfectly clean, you picked up the scrolls, reorganizing them on the shelves by date and topic.

While doing so, you've also managed to learn more about the kingdom, familiarizing yourself with its history. These ancient scrolls provided you with much more information than the books you read.

The afternoon sun was shining down on you through the large, open windows. The light cotton blinds were no longer enough to protect you from its wrath.

“Maybe it really is time for a break,” You mumbled, dizziness slowly taking over you. You wiped down your forehead with a wetted cloth, swiping over your face and cooling yourself down.

You've been in here for… seven hours already…

. ˚✧・* •

“What?!” The Crown Prince shouted, slamming his fist on the table. His eyes were sharp and focused, glaring down at the poor messenger that was quivering in his boots.

“I'm afraid t-that's all I know, Your Majesty. We've been told that a rebel group has infiltrated our lands. We're currently awaiting more information regarding the size of the group and how far they've reached.”

A long, drawn-out sigh escaped the Prince's mouth as he slumped back in his seat, rubbing his temples. The palace was already in chaos after the arrival of the Crown Princess, and this was slowly becoming more than he could handle.

The messenger scurried away after being dismissed.

Before the Prince could even take a breath, another knock on the door made him roll his eyes.

“Come in!”

“Your Majesty,” the old man bowed. Minho immediately glanced up after recognizing him as the man he appointed to watch over you. “Has there been any development?”

The man, face aged by war, pressed his lips into a thin line before pulling out a piece of parchment. His fingers deftly worked to undo the knot on the string, sighing when the parchment finally unrolled.

“There haven't been any interesting sightings of Her Majesty. Every day, she wakes up and eats breakfast before walking to the library. There, she reads through an impressive amount of chapters on the history of our land, takes some notes, and walks back to her chambers where she orders a light dinner.”

The old man paused, looking the Prince in the eye before continuing, “Recently, she has been spotted going to the ancient scroll room instead of the library. A servant told me that she insist on cleaning the room and reorganizing all the scrolls.”

Minho cut the man off, “—Who has she been ordering to clean the room?”

“No one. She insists on doing everything herself, Your Majesty.”

The Prince audibly groaned at the revelation. After what happened, he had wished for you to give him a reason to hate you, but so far, you'd given him none. Instead, you made guilt blossom in his chest by behaving like a responsible future queen a king could only wish for.

So far, you've kept to yourself and educated yourself on the kingdom's history and its traditions. You didn't abuse your power and outright refused help unless it was absolutely necessary.

Running a hand through his hair, he questioned, “Were there any, uh, any incidents? Anything unusual?”

“No, Your Majesty. Her Majesty hasn't done anything out of the ordinary. Although—”

“—although what?” he immediately latched onto his words, ears perked in interest.

“I've had several accounts from servants and other palace staff that Her Majesty got into a quarrel with one of the guards.”

Minho was hanging on his lips, listening intently. He ran a hand through his hair, sipping from his goblet.

“It appears that the guard was verbally harassing one of the new maids. Her Majesty was just around the corner so she stepped in, putting an end to the fight and telling the guard off.”

Minho felt like banging his head against the wall.

Why were you so kind? So perfect? It gave him a headache just thinking about all the things you've done since you arrived. He was hoping that during this period of separation, he would catch you doing something improper, something that would give him a reason to cancel the treaty and subsequently, cancel your engagement, thus annulling your arranged marriage.

But so far, all you've done was for the benefit of others. You have proved yourself to be a kind and intelligent person, which were exactly the traits he would've been looking for in his future Queen.

When he realized that the old man was still standing by his desk, he cleared his throat, “You can go now, thank you.”

Bowing, the man hurriedly walked out of the room, leaving the Prince to drown in his sorrows, consumed by guilt.

. ˚✧・* •

Later that evening, you found yourself in your bed chamber after a long day. Your muscles were aching from standing on a ladder and cleaning all day. Upon entering through the door, something rather strange caught your attention.

There, on your bed, lay a beautiful red gown with golden stitching. Your eyes bulged out of your skull as you took in the gorgeous article of clothing. It was the prettiest dress you've ever seen.

As you took a step closer to admire the garment, you noticed a small folded piece of paper attached to the front of the dress. Skillfully, you pull it out and unfold it, scanning over the message written in neat cursive.

Dear Princess Y/N,

I know we haven't gotten off on the right foot, and I'm aware that I too am partially to blame for that. It has been brought to my attention that you spend every day in the library reading or cleaning the scroll room. As such, I was hoping I could invite you to a proper dinner (hence the dress ;).

When you are free, please stop by my chambers. I would love to arrange a proper date with you.

Sincerely, Lee Minho

. ˚✧・* •

Your heart was beating loudly as you stopped in front of the heavy doors. The handle was platted in gold and the wood was carved with beautiful ornaments, reminding you of the front gate of the palace. You gently pick up the metallic ring and bang it against the door.

“Come in,” Came the muffled reply.

As you nervously walk into the room, you feel like your skin is on fire. Fear clouds your eyes as you worry about the unknown. How would he react once he saw you?

When you found the ruby dress in your chambers, it felt like your heart did a 180. Touched by the kind gesture, you almost allowed yourself to fantasize about all the what-ifs. What if Lee Minho actually cared for you? What if he wanted to spend time with you? These questions were running through your mind like a whirlwind, further confusing your already unstable heart.

When the Prince comes into view, you almost felt the blood freeze in your veins. Clad in a fitting robe with gold fastenings, accentuating his broad shoulders and impeccable physique, you couldn't help but swoon at his beauty.

His trimmed locks were parted in the middle, framing his handsome face. Against the pale complexion of his skin, his rich, chocolate eyes stood out, peering at you with an intensity that brings Chan's infamous glare to shame.

Too busy nervously fiddling with the hem of your skirt, you didn't notice the way his gentle smile fell, turning into a frown.

You were anxious.

Not only that—to Minho's dismay, you looked like you haven't slept in days. The circles under your eyes were prominent, and the way your muscles tensed made his heart shatter.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

The question caught you off guard, but not as much as the soft tone of his voice. He sounded almost…. Concerned?

Your eyes fluttered, giving away just how much you needed some shut-eye as you whispered, “Not really, Your Majesty…”

He expected you to elaborate, but you didn't, leaving him unsure of what his next steps should be.

“You can call me Minho,” he paused, letting the words sink in. When they did, your eyes parted wide, taken off guard by something that should've been so insignificant but held so much significance to you.

‘You can call me Minho’

That sentence played over in your head like a mantra. “Minho,” you breathed out, barely above a whisper. The name was so known, yet still seemed so unfamiliar. It rolled off of your tongue with strange, child-like anticipation. Like it held something deeper.

The Prince smiled upon hearing you call him by his first name. Like honey, it sounded so sweet when said by you.

“Due to our predicament, I think it would be rather foolish for us to stay exceedingly formal with each other, don't you agree?”

Your heart was beating loudly against your ribcage as you squeaked, “You can call me Y/N, too.”

“Great,” he smiled, “I'm glad we're on the same page, love.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks almost made you want to hide your face in embarrassment. Minho chuckled at the adorable sight, fighting the urge to reach out and pat your hair. His smile only grew when you carefully glanced at him from under your lashes.

“I'll arrange for Seungmin, our healer, to come to visit you,” he muttered, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. “I'm sure he can recommend something for you to sleep better, perhaps some herbal tea…”

The two of you talked for a few more minutes. The Prince kept asking you questions regarding your schedule, what you did during the day, and if you had any idea what caused your sleep problems. You tried to answer him to the best of your abilities, occasionally staring off into space as you wondered what caused him to make such a 180 personality-wise.

Placing the parchment into a drawer and slamming it shut, Minho faced you, giving you his full attention. A coy smile played on his lips when he remarked, “About dinner… does next Friday sound good?”

. ˚✧・* •

Anger.

That's all that was on Felix's mind as he strolled down the hall, trying to get away from Minho's chambers. He was sick, sick to his stomach from the conversation he just overheard.

‘Love.’

He wanted to barf. What did you do to cause Minho to behave like that? The general barely recognized his longtime friend in that short conversation between the two of you that he eavesdropped on. Why was he so smitten? Did you manage to seduce him?

It truly wasn't like him to behave like that, Felix concluded, and he was gonna make sure he helped his friend see the light again.

. ˚✧・* •

Your shoulders scraped against the wall as you leaned on it, breathing in to catch your breath. The air suddenly felt thick and heavy as you struggled to calm your nerves. Maybe you should really catch a break?

But there was still so much for you to do… the piles upon piles of books, scrolls, and other artifacts were hard evidence of that.

And much to your dismay, you still haven't been sleeping well, meaning that the exhaustion was slowly getting to you. Your limbs were aching and your entire body felt rather stiff.

“Damn it,” you groaned, sliding down the wall till you were sitting on the freezing marble floor.

“Your Majesty.” A sudden knock echoed through the room, your eyes immediately shooting up towards the door. “Come in,” you reply.

A young girl came scurrying inside the room with a golden tray. She placed it on the table, positioning the tea kettle and the teacup next to a small pile of paper.

“This is the herb tea sent by head healer Seungmin as per His Majesties request.”

“Oh, right. Thank you so much!” you beamed, shooting up and walking towards the table. The maid poured a generous amount of the liquid into the cup, handing it to you with a slight bow.

“Thank you. You may go now.”

Bringing the porcelain cup to your lips, you inhaled the fresh, fruity scent, sighing at how pleasant it smelled. With a relaxed smile playing on your lips, you sipped the warm beverage, enjoying how it heated you from the inside, leaving behind a tingling sensation.

While reading about the kingdom, you noticed that a lot of the authors mentioned the complicated system of the land's foreign trade policy. Despite the fact that you read many books on the topic, it quickly became quite obvious that they only touched the surface of the complex system.

That's why you decided to schedule a meeting with one of the advisors of the royal court, a man named Hwang Hyunjin. You've heard many things about him, from his socialite, flirty nature to his love for pies.

It's the reason were in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist as you sifted the dry ingredients into a bowl. After that, you cracked a few eggs into the mixture, stirring it till you had a dough-like consistency.

All and all, it took you about an hour till the pie was finally in the oven. Wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, you smiled at the sight of your creation. It may have not been the nicest looking pie you've laid your eyes on, but you were proud nonetheless.

Once it was done, you pulled it out with a pair of oven mitts. Excitement washed over you—it smelled exquisite—and you were ready to present it to the self-proclaimed pie man of the city.

. ˚✧・* •

The wind was light and breezy, tousling his hair as he stood on the balcony, bending down over the railing. From the corner of his eye, he saw you, walking through the garden in your outdoor cloak, smiling from ear to ear. In your hand, you held a box, and he could only guess what was inside.

Jeongin—one of the guards you've befriended during your stay—greeted you with a tip of his hat as you passed the gate. You grinned at him in return, commenting on something that made the boy visibly blush, looking away shyly.

Despite only watching you from afar, Minho couldn't help but smile softly. Every day, his heart seemed to yearn for you more than before.

And Lee Minho was a man of principles… he followed his heart.

. ˚✧・* •

The night had fallen. In the sky, countless stars were shimmering like scattered moondust and glimmering like lost beacons of hope.

The meeting with Hyunjin went rather well if you could say, and you left his house feeling like you've learned a lot. Despite his flirty nature, he seemed to have known that there was a certain line he shouldn't cross, given that you were to be wed to the Prince, so he only allowed himself to occasionally wink at you, gloating over the bashful smiles you gave him.

“You make a lovely baker, Princess,” he complimented, eating another spoonful of the pie. You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thank you.”

Once you arrived back at the palace, you slipped into your silk nightgown, sighing at the cool sensation that spread over your body. You weren't used to such fine materials, your kingdom being way too poor for such luxuries, but it seems like the Crimson clan had enough money on their hands to afford these expensive items.

You asked one of the maids to bring you some boiling water. Once she arrived, you pulled out the sachet of Seungmin's herbal tea and prepared the beverage.

You drank it while watching the stars from your balcony. The air was chilly and cool, the wind fanning your cheeks. As you sipped the drink, you couldn't help but feel drowsy, like you were about to fall asleep. Your mind felt foggy like it was being put to sleep which alarmed you. You were just fine earlier. What caused this?

You tried to stand up, but you were unable to, instead stumbling over your feet and falling to the ground.

On second thought, the marble floor of the balcony was pretty comfortable, you realized, as your warm cheek pressed onto the cool stone.

. ˚✧・* •

Minho was starting to grow concerned when you didn't answer after the fifth knock. Standing in front of your door impatiently, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, pondering. Should he come in?

He waited for a couple more seconds, just in case you were walking towards the door, but when nothing happened, he knocked for the final time.

“Y/N, are you okay? I'm coming in!”

Without missing a beat, he rammed his shoulder against the door using all of his strength. After the second try, the hinges finally gave out, the door bursting open and allowing Minho to run in.

“Where are you? Y/N?!”

There was alarm in his voice, and it took all of his willpower not to panic. Your bed was empty, and he noticed how it was made, the blanket neatly folded over the length of the wooden frame. You would always make your bed yourself, the maids would tell him.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he scanned the room, searching for a clue—anything, really—that could hint at your whereabouts.

If something happened to you…

Fuck. He didn't know if he could ever forgive himself if something were to happen to you.

And while he was busy muttering all the curses he knew, he caught something from the corner of his eye. A fluttering motion. Turning his head, he noticed the white curtain dancing in the evening breeze. And the curtain was leading from the balcony…

Aha!

He ran to the glass french door, immediately spotting your crumpled-up body on the cold marble. Bit by bit, he felt his heart crack at the sight. What did you deserve to be lying on the ground, passed out like that?

“Y/N,” he cried, kneeling beside you and cradling your face in his hands. He pushed the stray locks of hair out of your face, gently thumbing the apples of your cheeks.

“Oh, Y/N! What happened to you, my love?!”

The desperation in his voice was heavy, and with hooded eyes, he gently slid his hands under your frame, effortlessly lifting you into his arms. He pressed you close to his chest as he walked back inside of your room and laid you on the bed.

. ˚✧・* •

“Will she be okay?”

The healer rolled his eyes at the Prince, applying the soaked cloth on your forehead. It was the fifth time His Majesty had asked, and quite frankly, it was beginning to get on his nerves. Seungmin had just come down from a fever, so he had to step in, covering for his sick friend.

He never would've imagined the Crown Prince to have such a desperate side to him. Misery definitely didn't suit him, he decided. It wasn't a good look on him, or perhaps, it was the fact that it shattered the cold image he had created in his mind of the Prince.

“She likely just passed out due to exhaustion,” he said in a gruff tone, swiping the hair away from your forehead. “Her muscles seem tense and she hasn't been sleeping well.”

“I-I know,” Minho's voice cracked. “I hoped that the herbal tea would help…”

A beat of silence followed. “Well, I think my job here is done, Your Majesty. She should come to in a few hours,” the young healer muttered, grabbing all his belongings. “Call me if anything happens.”

The door thudded, leaving Minho alone with you in the room. The feeling of distraught crept over him, clawing at his heart as he watched you lay peacefully beneath the covers.

It was during times like these that he felt utterly useless. There was nothing he could do, and realistically, he should've accepted that. Yet there was a part of him that yearned to do something, to help you, to relieve the pain.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized something. The two of you hadn't known each other for long enough for him to know how to make you feel better. No, regrettably, he wasn't in possession of such knowledge.

Yet he knew someone who was.

His insides twisted at the thought, almost as if his gut was trying to talk him out of this. Thinking about him only made him remember his short-lived jealous streak—an emotion he didn't want to feel again.

Han Jisung. He didn't like him, far from it, he rather despised the young guard, for multiple reasons. The first one was his loud nature—mere days after the arrival of the Cerulean carriage, he was already the talk of the town. He heard at least a dozen maids giddily chirping about his supposedly gorgeous smile. It didn't help that he joined the sparring club as soon as he could, allowing a large amount of the female population the privilege of oogling his toned physique. He was the center of attention anywhere he went, winning the favor of all the palace staff.

But what irked him the most was undeniably how close he was to you. Minho knew it was childish to foster such jealousy for the guard. Despite his rather surprising self-awareness, he couldn't help but feel a prick of envy whenever he saw him, especially after hearing that the two of you made out in his palace, despite the fact that he was supposed to marry you in the near future.

In spite of all the things he listed in his head, he wasn't blind to the fact that you cared for him deeply. Just as Jisung must've cared for you. But he knew. He knew that this was the one thing he could do for you.

So despite his better judgment and the erratic beating of his heart, Minho headed out of the room in search of a person he never expect to look for in the first place.

. ˚✧・* •

To say that Jisung was confused would be the understatement of the century.

It wasn't every day that the Crown Prince came looking for you, especially if you kissed his future wife.

He entered the empty changing room, leaning his back against the wall with an unreadable expression. Jisung didn't know if he should bow or not. He decided that it would probably be improper not to, so he managed to awkwardly lower his torso, the shirt he was putting on still caught around his shoulders.

Once he was decent, a loud cough from the Prince made him look up. “I need you to follow me.”

When Minho noticed the uncertainty swarming in his eyes, he clarified, “Y/N fainted. I think she could use waking up to a familiar face.”

From then on, it was a blur. Jisung bolted out of the room like thunder, leaving Minho. Not wanting to be left behind, he ran after him, following his trail back to your bed chambers. His heart finally shattered as he watched the young guard disappear inside, the door slamming shut behind him.

. ˚✧・* •

Ever since you awoke to Jisung besides you, your heart felt just a little bit lighter. Despite the constant workload you inflicted upon yourself, there was still a void in your chest, left behind after the two of you practically cut off any sort of interactions.

It had been weird at first, but to be fair, the weirdness, or so to speak, had begun when Jisung, your best friend and guard—had kissed you, right inside the palace of your future husband.

It came as a surprise to you how easily the two of you had glossed over the initial awkwardness.

“Wait– sit down, Y/N. You shouldn't be overexerting yourself,” his hand on your shoulder pushed you back down into the covers.

“Oh please,” you groaned, “I'm fine now. I must've gotten a bit light-headed, you know, from the change of air pressure and all.”

Jisung snorted, “We both know that's bullshit, Princess.” Then he took on a much softer tone, “But even if you're feeling better now, you still should rest.”

You tsked, but in the end, you complied. You knew he meant well and you didn't want to worry him anymore. Instead, your palm reached over to his, gently encasing his hand in yours.

“I know that it's hard, but we must address the elephant in the room, Ji…”

You could feel him tense, eyes glancing anywhere but at you. He opened his mouth to say something, yet nothing came out, allowing the pregnant silence to envelop you. When he finally gathered his thoughts, he glanced back at you, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. I know I never should've done that,” his hand gripped tightly onto yours. You carefully watched his face, only to realize—to your unease—that he started crying. There were tears streaming down his face, leaving faint trails of moisture that glimmered under the light. You watched in horror as the sobs wracked through him, muffled sounds leaving his parted lips.

And the only thing you could do was gently rub his back, blinking to suppress any tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

“Ji—” you whispered, but Jisung cut off. “—I-I'm really s-sorry. I know I've caused you a lot of pain,” he sniffled, looking away in embarrassment. “It's hard for me to f-follow boundaries without overstepping them—especially since the line between us has always been s-so blurred—but I clearly went too far.” Another sniffle. “A-And this time, m-my reckless actions had dire consequences…”

And the dam broke.

Tears were now streaming down your face like a waterfall, staining your cheeks as you whimpered, “Sungie, please…”

He understood your silent plea, hand reaching out to grab yours, intertwining your fingers together. “I'm so s-sorry,” he sniveled onto the top of your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Sungie…”

After a couple of minutes of enjoying the warmth of his embrace, you pulled away from his chest. “T-This is probably the most we've ever apologized to each other,” you sniffed, a small smile appearing at the corners of your lips.

“Y-Yeah,” Jisung whispered, running his thumb down your cheek, wiping away the moisture. “My pride usually got the better of me…”

A pleasant silence settled in the air as you watched Jisung, eyes carefully following the way his facial expressions changed. He seemed unsure of himself, something you weren't necessarily used to which made you frown.

Glancing at you, Jisung noticed how intently you were watching. Grasping your hand, he worried his lower lips between his teeth before muttering, “I think Minho likes you.”

“Jisung,” your eyebrows shot up, unsure of what to make of this statement, which sounded more like a prank than anything, “what are you saying?”

A small pout appeared on his lips when he realized you didn't believe him. “I-I—”

“—Yeah?” you implored impatiently, a sudden wave of giddiness washing over you. “Why do you think that?”

“As much as I hate that snobby bastard, I couldn't help but notice that he seems to care for you all of a sudden,” Jisung muttered under his breath, unable to look you in the eyes. “He's the one who brought me here — he came running to me like a madman just to tell me that you fainted.”

“Why would that be unusual though? What if he just wanted someone else to wait with me? He probably didn't want to deal with me—” you pointed out hurriedly, not buying the whole schtick.

“S'cause he said something about you ‘wanting to wake up to a familiar face’ or whatever... Awfully cheesy, I know,” he chuckled, fidgeting with his fingers, “but he really seemed worried about you. His clothes were all disheveled and his hair was messy… he probably stayed by your side for at least a few hours.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks making you look away in embarrassment. This was all it took for you to feel like a lovestruck teenager once again. Your heart was beating inside your chest at the mere possibility of him actually caring for you.

“I should probably go—now that you're up,” Jisung stood up, dusting off his leather pants. His expression turned into a hard mask of unreadability as he walked off. “Sleep well, Sungie,” you managed to call after him before you heard the door slam shut.

The steady beating of his heart contrasted with the tears trailing down his cheeks as your last words echoed in his head.

And just like a mother hen has to part with her little ones, Jisung parted with you.

This was the end of the two of you ever sharing anything other than a platonic relationship, and with a heavy heart, he acknowledged that it was time for him to move on.

This time, for good.

. ˚✧・* •

“Minho!” you called, running down the hall in hopes of catching up to the Prince. It was past breakfast, and you were walking towards the main gate when you spotted the handsome man strolling through the corridors of the palace.

Briskly, the Prince turned around after hearing his name being called, mouth stretching into a grin when he realized it was you who was calling him.

“Good morning, Princess. How are you? I hope you're well-rested after yesterday's events.”

You rubbed your eyes tiredly, stifling a yawn, “Yeah, pretty good! I'm just tired and achy but other than that, I'm perfectly fine,” you flashed him a smile.

You couldn't help but notice how his smile froze, a worried expression painting his face. “Are you alright? Should I call the head healer to make you some brew—”

“—No! It's fine,” you interrupted, not wanting him to needlessly worry. “Really, I'll be okay.”

A heavy silence engulfed you as you stood in front of the Prince, pondering over how you were going to thank him for yesterday. Finally, after a long series of deep breaths, you turned to him.

“By the way, um, I wanted to thank you for… you know… what you did yesterday.”

“What do you mean?” he inquired, placing his hand on your arm. “Oh, you know,” the heat rushed to your cheeks, making you look away shyly. “You were the one that found me, right? Jisung told me that you stayed with me for over an hour before you brought him to me…”

“Oh…”

You missed the way the apples of his cheeks turned a shade of pink, fumbling with the hem of your sleeve. “Well… I'll have to go now,” you whispered, your words barely audible. Before you could overthink your actions (which would inevitably lead to you chickening out), you leaned closer to him, pressing a quick kiss to the curve of his jaw.

“Goodbye, Minho,” you waved with newfound confidence, crinkling your eyes. Minho could only watch as your figure disappeared around the corner.

He hadn't felt so euphoric in ages.

. ˚✧・* •

“Hmm,” your foot tapped against the ground, hands on your hips as you chewed at the nib of your pen, scanning the market. At first sight, the place reminded you of everything that your own kingdom wasn't. It was lively and crowded, and there were so many goods you didn't know in which direction to look.

Truly a feast for the eyes, you noted.

But despite that, you knew that the Crimson land, just like any other land, had to have its own set of issues.

Issues that you soon discovered ran a bit deeper than you originally had anticipated. After countless short ‘interviews’ (if you could even call them that) with the local citizens and villagers, you found out that there was a reoccurring pattern of corrupt, lesser-powerful royals in charge of the adjoining regions under the Crimson rule abusing their powers.

“Count Choi raises the taxes by a little bit every year,” an elderly woman complained, lowering her voice as a string of colorful curses rang from her lips. Frustration could be seen in her angry gaze—you could tell how powerless she felt.

A middle-aged man, similarly to her, shared how Viscount Kim suspended the stream from the river to the well, cutting off their immediate water supply.

“It's nearly impossible to reach His Majesty in any way. Or at least since the…” he immediately paused, looking around in fear of being overheard. “...Since his brother died in the war,” he whispered urgently, shaking his head.

“But even if we could set up a meeting with him, I highly doubt anyone would be willing to.”

It surprised you to hear just how much his own people feared him. Sure, Minho wasn't exactly the most… hospitable person when you first met him, you wouldn't even go as far as to say that you were friends, but the look of fear in the people's eyes was unmistakable.

As far as you could tell, the people were utterly terrified of him.

Noting down all the new information into your handy journal, you made a mental note to find a way to bring it up with Minho as soon as you could. Perhaps once you two finally managed to have the promised dinner together…

‘Just a few more days’ you realized with glee.

A loud thud almost made you drop your notebook as you realized where you currently were. Coughing awkwardly, you briskly walked over to one of the more secluded stalls, not wanting to stand still in the middle of the busy marketplace crowd.

A sudden smell of freshly baked rolls wafts through the air, making you keen. You turned around over your shoulder in hopes of finding the stall that managed to produce such lavish-smelling treats.

“Hello,” you walked up to the small booth, greeting the elderly lady behind the counter with a smile. In front of you layed pastries of all shapes and sizes, arranged in multiple rows. Almost salivating, you scanned all the treats—you felt like a kid in a candy store. There were so many options and quite frankly, when presented with so many choices, you felt at your wit's end.

“You aren't from here, are you?” she chuckled, wiping her hands into the apron around her waist.

“Oh… can you tell so easily?” you winced, rubbing the back of your neck, heat rushing to your cheeks.

She smiled, “Don't worry about it, sweetheart. It isn't quite often that we see foreigners here and we can usually tell by seeing them shop around.”

“I see. Do you mind if I ask you to recommend me something? There's just so much to choose from and I'm afraid I'd stand here all day if I had to choose,” you giggled bashfully, looking down in embarrassment. It was true though, and with so many choices, you were bound to ponder over something as simple as what you should eat for ages.

“Of course,” she bent down and picked up a large pot. “Jeongin! Bring the sugar dragons!”

Your brow raised upon hearing the familiar name, a smile appearing on your face when you saw the familiar figure come in through the door. The boy looked like he had just rolled out of bed, dressed in what you assumed to be his comfortable clothes. His hair sat messily atop his head, likely uncombed, making him look even more adorable.

“I'm coming!”

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he placed the large container on the counter, pushing the hair out of his face. Only then did he notice you standing in front of him, smirking with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Y-Your M-Majesty–” he stammered, taking a step back. His eyes widened into the size of dinner plates, causing a chuckle to tear through your throat.

“Jeongin,” you cooed, grinning at the sight of your friend (at least you hoped you could consider the boy your friend). A rosy blush rose to his cheeks, dusting them with a soft, peachy hue. Stuttering, he awkwardly attempted to bow as his mother watched, unsure of what to do.

She ended up following suit, lowering her head as a string of apologies left her lips. “It's okay,” you tried to placate the two of them, repeating over and over how you didn't really care for royal greetings anyways.

Moments later, all three of you sat around a small table in the middle of their living room, munching on the little sugar dragon popsicles.

“What are you doing here anyway, Princess?” Jeongin's tone—to your relief—took on a more laid-back quality as he slumped back into his chair.

“Oh, nothing much,” you remarked, noticing how Jeongin's mom was now watching you intently. “I thought I could actually come to see the village myself and meet the people of the land I will soon rule.”

You sipped some freshly squeezed juice jeongin graciously offered you before continuing, “I figured I could ask around and figure out some points of friction,” you gestured towards the market outside the window. “Since I still don't get recognized in public, I figured people would tell me there was something bothering them.”

“That's very nice of you to do,” Jeongin chimed, picking up all the plates from the table. “Did you find out anything interesting?”

“Oh, definitely,” you lean over the table, immediately launching into a detailed explanation…

. ˚✧・* •

A strangle of curses left your lips as you sat on the chair, focusing all of your energy on creating a spark of ice. Your eyes were shut in concentration, brows furrowing at the realization that you likely wouldn't produce any anytime soon.

“What is going on?!” you whisper-shouted under your breath, staring at the tips of your fingers as if that would ever help. You had bumped your head earlier in the morning while preparing some morning tea and to prevent a nasty bruise from appearing on your body, you thought that you could cool the sore spot with some ice.

Except it wasn't working at all. It was like you never had any powers, to begin with, the feeling reminding you way too much of how you felt back when you were a toddler, forced to focus all your energy into manifesting the first slivers of ice.

‘This is bad,’ you realized, beads of sweat forming at the top of your forehead. ‘Really bad.’

The realization of what would happen if it were released to the public that you lost the ability to control your power hit you straight in the face, causing your heartbeat to steadily grow.

There were so many officials and high-standing people in the palace, hungry to find anything as simple as an unrelenting rumor or idle gossip to discredit your position as the future queen of the nation.

And the fact that you couldn't summon your powers would definitely be enough grounds for them to try and annulate the treaty.

The whole point of this marriage was to unite the two kingdoms and create a powerful empire, one that could afford to stay at peace. It was expected that the two of you would produce an heir soon after the marriage, followed by (hopefully) many more children to come, some of which would inherit Minho's fire-bending ability while others would learn how to control ice, like their mother.

And despite the fact that you would never be forced to battle anyone, the information about your sudden ability-loss would certainly make you an easier target as you would be rightfully deemed weaker and more vulnerable.

“Damn it!” you groaned, wiping off the tear that slid down your cheek with the back of your wrist.

‘This wasn't going anywhere,’ you concluded, so you decided that you had to distract yourself asap. Picking up your trusty, leather-bound notebook, you began to flip through the pages until you found the one you were looking for. At the bottom, there was an address scribbled down in smeared ink.

It was the address of the local orphanage.

While talking to one of the villagers, you had found out that there weren't that many teachers in the regions that would teach poorer people. He explained that because of that, some children (especially the orphans) grew up struggling to read, write, or even do simple calculations in their heads.

And since no one really paid any attention to you, slipping out of the palace with two bags filled to the brim with clothes, supplies and some food was the easiest thing in the world.

Damn, maybe the palace should update its security.

. ˚✧・* •

“Hello,” you greeted the children lined up in a row, “I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Hello Miss Y/N,” all the kids greeted back in unison, beaming with happiness despite their torn clothes and streaks of dirt on their faces. Your heart clenched at the sight, making a mental note to remember to bring some washing oils next time you came.

The head of the orphanage, Jihyo, welcomed you with open arms, enthralled that she had someone who seemed interested in the well-being of the little kids.

“You know,” she wept, wiping the tears off her face, “It isn't often that we get volunteers here, especially ones that are willing to teach these poor kids some skills that would help them once they become adults.”

You nodded gently in understanding, handing her your handkerchief. “I'm glad to be of service.”

Once you handed her the bags filled with goods, she busted in tears once again, hugging you with so much fervor you were afraid she'd crush your lungs.

After that, she lead you to the room where a small chalkboard hung on the wall of the modestly furnished space.

Setting down your materials on a small table, you grabbed a piece of chalk before writing on the board the contents of today's lesson, underlining it twice.

“Now, who can tell me the alphabet?”

. ˚✧・* •

After the first day of volunteering at the orphanage, you realized that it was something you enjoyed a lot. It gave you a sense of pride and fulfillment, knowing that you were helping these children who had so little, and you told yourself that you would bring the lack of proper funding for these institutions to Minho's attention since you didn't really hold any power yourself as of right now.

Every time you saw them smile as they read a word out loud or calculated something in their head, your heart burst at the sight of their happy cries and cheers.

“Here you go,” you handed the young girl with pigtails the last piece of pie that you bought on the market before coming here, wiping your sticky hands into a towel nearby.

“Thank you,” she chirped, gleefully swallowing down the pastry with a grin. “You have a really nice dress, Miss Y/N,” she suddenly spoke up, staring at your yellow gown in awe. “And you're really pretty and smart too! Just like a princess… I wanna be just like you when I grow up!” she pumped her fist in the air, giggling softly.

“Aww,” you coo, touched by her kind words. “That's so sweet of you to say, Rosie. You're really sweet and pretty too, you know that?” She smiled bashfully as a gentle blush colored her cheeks.

“Do you want me to braid your hair?” you inquired, gently brushing a stray lock from her face. After her furious nod of approval, she grabbed your hand, leading you towards one of the cushions on the floor.

. ˚✧・* •

“There, you go! All done,” you grinned, patting her head after fastening the last of the fancy hair clips you took out from your bun into her braided hair.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” she turned around to pull you into a hug, “you're the bestest person in the world.”

“Uh-uh,” you tutted, wiggling your finger in front of your face to show your disapproval. “You know that's not true, Rosie. Miss Jihyo has been taking care of you for so long and she's the most caring person I know. She's the bestet person, don't forget that.”

“Ahh, you're right,” her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “She's the bestet person in the world but you're right after her.”

“Thank you, Rosie,” you whispered into the crown of her head, rubbing her back. “And you're the sweetest little girl I know.”

. ˚✧・* •

“Come in,” you muttered against your pillow, too tired to leave the sanctity of your bed and open the door. A loud click could be heard as a tall figure stepped inside your room, shutting the door behind.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You immediately recognize the soft, husky voice, heat rising to your cheeks as you struggled to sit upright with the sheets still tangled between your limbs. “M-Minho! Hi–”

The man chuckled at your distressed state, cooing when you buried your head in your hands in embarrassment. ‘Cute,’ he thought.

“I'm not interrupting you, am I?” he asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. You promptly pulled your legs up to your chest to make more space for him. “N-No, I was just taking a small nap since I didn't sleep well last night.”

“I see,” his brows furrowed, “you're still having trouble sleeping?”

You could feel your heart combust at the question. It was stupid, beyond stupid, and you knew—however—it was like your heart had a mind of its own, completely ignoring your rational thoughts.

“I think I'm still getting used to the new setting, perhaps the change of weather,” you added lamely, fiddling with the hem of your nightgown. Suddenly, Minho scooched closer to you, making you look up.

“I'll go ask Seungmin if he has anything other than the tea that he could give you,” he placed his hand tenderly on your thigh, rubbing the soft flesh with the tips of his fingers. The gesture caused a pleasant shiver to run through you and you sighed. “Thank you.”

The two of you stay like that for a bit longer, enjoying the balmy silence before Minho cleared his throat, catching your attention.

“U-Uh… so, I know we haven't been able to spend much time with each other,” the corners of your mouth twitched, and you were very close to reminding him why the two of you didn't meet.

Upon seeing your expression, his cheeks flush. “I know it's because of me—I'm really sorry we had to cancel our dinner plans—Felix ambushed me with an unplanned meeting so I had to take care of that…” he trailed off, his hand still resting on your supple skin.

“It's okay, Minho. I understand that you have many responsibilities as the future King.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't excuse me canceling so abruptly,” he reasoned. “I was hoping we could have the dinner next Saturday—I've had my entire schedule cleared for the day so we can even go somewhere after we eat.”

The smile you gave him was positively contagious, and he found himself beaming. “Okay, then it's settled.”

. ˚✧・* •

As you're walking down the alley leading to the orphanage, you couldn't help but feel like you're being watched. After turning around multiple times to check if you see anyone trailing behind you, quickening your pace in hopes of losing the person, you still can't shake the eerie feeling.

Jihyo had warned you about walking to the orphanage. She mentioned the army barracks being stationed nearby, as well as a brothel just a few blocks down the neighborhood. It wasn't the ideal place to run a children's home, but due to her limited funding, she had to settle for the less than quintessential location.

“Sometimes, there are drunk men wandering the streets,” she whispered hushedly, looking over her shoulder to make sure none of the kids could hear her. “Please be careful, especially after dusk…”

Her warning echoed in your head, making shivers run down your spine as you scanned your surroundings. As you briskly hiked your dress up in hopes of having more mobility, you heard a sudden thud, panic flooding through your veins.

‘Just a little bit more,’ you thought, sighing in relief as you slung the door to the orphanage open, stepping in and shutting the door behind you.

Immediately, you were swarmed with kids flocking to you, little Rosie reaching to envelop you in a tight hug.

“Hello, Y/N,” they all chirped in unison, some grabbing your dress in attempt to pull you into their study room. “Hey, hey!” you giggled, patting their heads. “Don't worry, I know how eager you are to learn. I'm coming!”

And just like that, you're pulled into their own little world, pointing at the chalkboard as you explain today's topic at hand—multiplication. It's a hard topic to grasp, especially for kids who have never gotten a proper education. The children's ages varied—from as young as four or five to the eldest being in their preteens. And because of the huge age difference, you were forced to tailor your explanations to them depending on which category they fell into.

The youngest bunch was occupied with drawing basic shapes (you sat them at the back of the room and handed them some colored pencils along with a few sheets of paper). The rest of the kids were seated before you, all staring at the board intently as you tried to explain the mathematical operation to the best of your abilities.

“Each bird in the sky has two wings. But if there's three of them, how many wings are there in total?”

Judging by the way they all frowned, you could tell they were deep in thought. It took a few seconds, but finally, one of the girls raised her hand.

“There are six wings, right?”

“Correct!” you beamed, pushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Moving over to the board to grab a piece of chalk, you began to draw three birds in total, writing small numbered indexes above each wing.

“See?” you gestured towards the board, “there are six wings in total. Well done, Yujin!”

. ˚✧・* •

“Remind me again, Felix, why are you bothering me in the middle of work?” Minho sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. His golden crown lay on the table beside him, discarded, as he found it pretentious to wear the ornate piece of gold when he found himself in solitude.

“Sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty,” the general snickered, reaching for the paperwork on Minho's desk. In a swift motion, he slammed his hand down on the table, seizing the papers from his hands and placing them on the armchair behind him.

Minho could only scowl at the blatant show of disrespect, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I found out some very interesting information about the Princess.”

Upon hearing that, Minho's ears perked, causing Felix to chuckle. ‘He had become weak,’ he thought, so smitten for that girl.

When he was sure he had his attention, he continued, “A little birdie told me, that the Princess has been sneaking out of the palace quite often.”

Minho's expression faltered for a fraction of a second, but unfortunately, Felix had noticed.

“Why would that be of my concern, Felix? Y/N isn't my possession—I have no interest in controlling her every move. If she feels like taking a breath of fresh air, who am I to stop her?”

“I don't think you're understanding what I'm trying to convey, Your Majesty,” he drawled, smugness radiating off of him in waves. Minho had to hold himself back from decking Felix in the face.

With a groan, he looked him dead in the eye, “then tell me, Felix, what is it that your little spies have found out?”

“She's been sneaking out to the eastern part of the district,” the General noticed how the Prince's throat bobbed. “Almost every day, she leaves in the morning and returns in the evening. Apparently, it's in the area near the barracks and the illegal brothel down on Scarlet street.”

An uncomfortable silence ensued, the only thing that could be heard was the rapid beating of the Prince's heart.

“Oh, and also, one of the servants caught her sneaking into the supply room,” he handed him a report, “there have been things going missing in the past two weeks, and it is starting to affect our scheduled monthly budgeting…”

As Felix watched the gears spinning in Minho's head, he couldn't help but grin wickedly. This was exactly what he had wanted—to plant the seed of doubt in the Prince's mind, allowing in to slowly grow over time until it would eventually take over him.

And you had handed him the perfect means to do so on a silver platter.

“Where do you think she has been going?”

The question slipped from his parted lips in a quiet breath, and Felix couldn't help but admire how calm and collected he sounded. But then, the cracks in his facade slowly started to appear as the corner of his mouth twitched.

And that's when Felix decided to lay the last blow.

“I'm not entirely sure, but I'm betting she's secretly meeting with the loverboy…”

And that's all it took for Minho to storm off, leaving a pleased Felix alone in his office. The Prince's hands were clenched into tight fists, steam practically rising from atop of his head.

‘Stop it!’ his inner voice suddenly commanded, snapping him out of his fit of rage and back into reality. This was you he was talking about. Kind, open-hearted, and diligent Y/N.

What a fool he was, he realized, wanting nothing more than to give himself a smack. There was no need to get unnecessarily angry—he could just go to you and ask you to explain. Especially since that part of the city was very dangerous—perhaps he could just warn you about the potential peril.

After the short pep talk, he finally stood in front of your heavy doors, knocking gently on the dark wood.

He knocked once… Nothing.

Twice… Still no luck.

And when he knocked for the third time without you responding, panic slowly flooded his veins.

You were nowhere to be found.

He searched through your room, turning everything upside down but there was no trace of you.

He knew you were a free spirit but did you always have to worry him so much?

Slamming your bedroom door behind him, he ran down the hall, thinking about where you could have gone. And that's when it hit him—perhaps Felix was truly right about your supposed whereabouts.

Realizing that made shivers run down his spine—he didn't want you anywhere near that street, especially so late at night.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled under his breath, throwing on his overcoat and grabbing the small decorative dagger that hung on the wall. It was his brother's.

After informing one of the servants of where he was headed, he ordered a small group of soldiers to be sent in the same direction in case things truly went south.

“Please, Y/N… be okay.”

. ˚✧・* •

As you stepped outside the orphanage, you cursed at the realization of how late it was. You hadn't planned to stay for so long, but you found yourself helping Jihyo with some chores (and there were so many of them), like washing the laundry, cleaning the living space, and preparing some of the food for tomorrow.

Your mind wandered back to your plans for the upcoming days. The date of your dinner with Minho kept coming closer and closer, which made your heart race. The image of the two of you sitting next to each other, eating some good food and laughing at each other's jokes like a normal engaged couple made the heat rise to your cheeks.

But you couldn't help it—ever since you and Minho had smoothed out the initial misunderstandings between you, you seemed to have fallen for the Prince. Sure, he was cold at first, something that made you keep your distance from him, but you slowly began to realize that there was much more to Lee Minho than meets the eye.

Under his perfect facade, you found him to be a vulnerable man, who was forced to build walls around himself in order to protect his emotions. He loved his brother dearly, and you could tell that his untimely death shook through him like a storm, leaving his soul broken into pieces.

It was just your luck that he seemed to be warming up to you, actually making an effort to interact with you and ask you about your health.

Suddenly, you heard a loud thud, accompanied by some loud voices. Your heart stilled in your chest as you paused, listening intently for any other noises.

You didn't have to wait for long, as a plethora of men's voices echoed through the night, making you realize that they were drunk. Very drunk. Their voices were slurred, sounding like they just got wasted at some bar nearby, but that didn't help to soothe your unease.

Drunk people meant angry people, and you didn't want to risk being in their presence to find out just how angry the men got here.

You began to run straight ahead, hoping that you'd slip by without them even noticing, or at least fast enough so they wouldn't be able to react in any way. You could hear their voices getting closer to you, but alas, you were almost at the end of the street. Hopefully, you'd just take a turn and leave this nasty street behind.

Wrong. What you didn't account for was the light from the only flickered lamp at the beginning of the street getting weaker and weaker. You realized that you had tripped way too late, unable to brace yourself for the fall. A shrill scream left your parted lips, as you cursed yourself for being so damn clumsy.

“What was that?” one of the men grumbled, suddenly sounding perfectly sober. A chorus of mumbles ensued as they all tried to figure out what had just happened. You felt your life wither in front of your eyes as one of the guys pointed in your direction.

You scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping in the process again, but your attempts at getting away were feeble at best. A calloused hand clamped around one of your wrists, pulling you back into a rough body. You wrinkled your nose at the heavy smell of liquor.

“What are you doing here so late at night, pretty girl,” the man slurred, hand reaching to grab your cheek. You had to fight the urge to spit in his face, instead choosing to simply wrinkle your nose in disgust to mask the growing fear coursing through your veins.

“J-Just on a late night stroll… my husband is expecting me home in a few so…” you trailed off, hoping your voice sounded steady enough to convince them. You prayed that the ‘husband’ card would be to your advantage and they'd let you go if you mentioned that you were already with another.

Was it horrible that you had to go to such means? Sure, but at this moment, the only thing you cared for was getting out of here as soon as possible, your pride be damned.

A chorus of oooh's could be heard, followed by boisterous laughter. “You say you have a husband, little one?” the man's grip on your wrists tightened as he ran the rough pad of his thumb down the apple of your cheek. It was now that you realized how powerless you felt without your abilities. You would've kicked his ass if you could just freeze his hands and get out of his grip, but with your current predicament, it wasn't possible

“Well, it seems like your husband really doesn't care about you, little lamb. Especially if he lets you out all alone so late at night.”

The words cut deeper than you expected them to, like someone plunged a knife into your chest, twisting in and rearranging your insides.

“Wait a second!” one of the men in the back shouted, catching the attention of his companions. “She seems familiar…” he trailed off, grabbing your face roughly and moving it to inspect you from different angles.

A few seconds passed, followed by a loud gasp. He dropped your face, mumbling to himself, “i-it's her… it's the Azure Princess for God's sake!”

You winced at his revelation, cursing under your breath. You were hoping they wouldn't recognize you, unable to predict what they would do if they had realized that you were in fact the future Queen. From what you've gathered, your popularity here wasn't exactly what you had been hoping for.

Well, it seems like you would find out soon enough…

“Now well well well,” the man grinned, revealing his rotted teeth as he walked around you like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. “This changes everything, don't you think, sweetheart?”

“It doesn't change the fact that your breath stinks, Smelly,” you spat back, trying to hold in the gagging noises in the back of your throat. The man's face turned beet red, fumes nearly coming out of his ears as the other men tried to stifle their snorts, looking away and masking their laughter with a few awkward coughs.

“Damn, she's feisty,” one of them chimed, quickly shutting up when he noticed their leader's piercing glare.

“It seems like you haven't understood the gravity of your situation, witch.”

When you heard him growl, regret washed over you almost immediately. ‘Stupid, Y/N, stupid!’ you chanted in your head, wincing as you felt his grip on you tighten.

Suddenly, a fluttery motion materialized in the corner of your eye. It was pretty dark, the singular lamp at the end of the street not doing a good job of illuminating the area, but you were positive that you saw something move past you.

“It seems like you aren't realizing the gravity of the situation, you fucking bastard!”

You gasped upon hearing the familiar voice, tears of joy prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“M-Minho,” you croaked, relief washing over you like a tidal wave. You shifted slightly, noticing that the man's grip on your hands had loosened slightly, but not enough for you to break his hold.

Minho stiffened at your hoarse voice, anger flooding through his veins. His arm was currently slung around the man's much broader figure, pressing the tip of his dagger to his jugular. His other hand was extended towards the rest of the group, flames bursting from the tips of his fingers.

The men took a few steps back, clearly frightened by the sudden display of power. They all knew what this had meant since only the royal bloodline possessed the ability to wield fire—the Prince had come to get you.

And by the sound of it, he was livid.

“I'll say it only one more time, you pathetic piece of shit, before I fucking burn you to the ground,” he seethed into his ear, pressing the tip of the blade deeper into the man's skin, a few drops of blood dripping down his hand.

“Let. Her. Go!”

Everything that happened after that was a blur. You could vaguely remember the events that followed Minho's sudden appearance. The bastard who held you didn't want to give up, but after feeling blood trickling down his neck, he unwillingly let go of you, pushing you to the ground with a thud.

He turned around to fight with Minho but he never really stood a chance in the first place, the young Prince blowing a gust of flames in his direction, tearing a shrill scream from his throat. After that, the two sparred for a short while, and despite his smaller stature, Minho had managed to land a fair share of blows on the much larger man.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, making it look like he was far gone as he landed a final blow on him, spitting on his wrecked body. You watched the scene with wide eyes, trembling in the chilly, evening air.

Never in your life had you seen a man as angry as Minho was right now.

He was panting, deep, ragged breaths leaving his parted lips as he tucked the dagger behind his belt. Slowly, as if afraid he would scare you, Minho turned around, eyes finding yours.

Upon seeing you shivering on the cold ground, he felt something tug at his heartstrings.

“Princess—” he rasped, wiping his bloodied hand into his leather pants before carefully walking towards you. He crouched beside your figure, running his thumb down your cheek to wipe away the trail of tears that'd fallen.

“You're probably cold, aren't you,” he slid off his coat, gingerly placing it on your shoulders. You accepted the warm garment with a quiet ‘thanks’.

“Everything will be okay,” he whispered, hands sliding under your body and hoisting you up into his arms. You snuggled up into his chest, pressing closer to him in hopes of obtaining some of his body heat.

“Let's get you back,” he bent down to press a chaste kiss to the top of your forehead, smiling gently—a stark contrast to his wrath you witnessed mere minutes ago.

On the way back, once you fell asleep in his arms, Minho allowed himself to let go, unable to keep the strong facade any longer. A few tears trickled down his face as his grip on your form tightened.

‘You must've been so scared,’ he realized in anger. Why were you out so late? Why didn't you protect yourself? From what he had heard, you were quite the powerful ice-bender, and Minho for the love of God couldn't figure out why didn't you try to do anything against the men.

“Your Majesty,” Changbin, the captain of the 1st legion saluted, wincing at the state of his ruler. “I apologize for the delay, we had some troubles during our departure.”

“There's a man lying unconscious a few minutes walking from here. Go and bring him back. I want him sent to the dungeon,” Minho muttered darkly.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

. ˚✧・* •

When you awoke to the birds chirping, sunlight was streaming through the flimsy curtains, making you squint. Your head was pounding, a dull, steady ache accompanying the numb pain around your wrists.

A sudden movement made you look down, noticing Minho half-sitting in what looked like an uncomfortable chair, his head and torso lying over your lap. The morning rays of the sun were illuminating his face, like a glow cast gently on him by the angels.

“Minho—” you stirred him awake, tenderly brushing the sweaty locks of hair from his forehead. He mumbled something unintelligible in response, groaning into your duvet. “Hey, hey—wake up.”

With a sudden jerk, he shot up, tiredly rubbing at his eyes as he slowly came to. “Good morning… uh, how are you feeling?”

“Morning,” you responded lamely, scanning his face and spotting the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he had barely slept all night—which he probably had—but the sight made your heart clench.

“W-Wait a second… morning? How long was I out?”

Upon hearing the panic flaring in your voice, he responded as calmly as he could. “It's okay, don't worry. I, uh, I brought you in yesterday at night so probably about ten hours?”

All the memories of the previous night started to flood back, making you feel dizzy. The world was literally spinning, your head feeling heavy when Minho gently propped you up, helping you find a more comfortable position.

“Go back to sleep, okay?”

And just like that, everything went black.

. ˚✧・* •

“Good afternoon, Princess,” a familiar friendly voice chirped, walking through the ornate doorway. Groaning, you peeled your eyes open, coming face to face with Jeongin, who was holding a tray full of fresh pastries and fruit.

“My mom prepared these for you, they're fresh out of the oven.”

There's a forced cheerfulness in his tone, and you assumed Jeongin was trying to comfort you, not wanting to bring your spirits down.

“Thank you.”

He set the tray on the night table, careful not to hit Minho (whose head was still laying on your lap) with the assortment of treats he brought.

“How long has he been there, do you know?” you suddenly spoke up, keeping your eyes trained on the Prince. You had a suspicion that he hasn't left your side but you were hoping it wasn't true.

“I'm not sure, actually,” Jeongin shrugged, “but I heard that he carried you here all the way. And judging by his appearance, he probably stayed all night with you. He was really worried.”

Glancing up at Jeongin, you tried your hardest to muster up a smile. “Yeah… that sounds like something he would do…”

. ˚✧・* •

It took another few hours for you and Minho to finally talk.

After Jeongin left, you munched on one of the sweet pastries before pulling over the duvet and lying back in your bed. Your hand was gently curled around his hair as you let the exhaustion take over you once again, closing your eyes and welcoming sleep with open arms.

When you awoke, it was already evening, judging by the sun setting behind the windows.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Minho's raspy voice startled you into a seating position, eyes widening. “Ah, sorry… I, uh, I didn't mean to startle you,” he winced, hand reaching for yours as he gently interlocked your fingers.

“Um, it's okay,” you croaked, “I was just surprised, that's all.”

The uncomfortable silence lingered in the air for a bit longer, making you wince. It felt like you had just gone back to being awkward together, and it pained you so much to be unable to talk to him freely.

You shifted in your seat, your hand gently tugging at Minho's in the process, bringing it closer to your own lap. Your ears perked up when you heard him let out a pained groan, panic immediately flooding your veins. You glanced back at him, noticing the soiled bandages peeking from under his linen blouse.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, hastily reaching for the shirt and gently pulling it away, inspecting his injury. You were met with what looked like a knife wound, sloppily wrapped in plain bandages that were soaked with blood.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” the questions began to roll off your tongue in a swift manner as you peered at him from under your lashes, distraught.

Minho, visibly taken aback by your concern, merely shrugged. “It must've happened while I fought off that bastard—I think he managed to graze me with his knife…”

“Grazed? Are you kidding me? Minho, this gash looks deep, did you at least get it disinfected?” you exclaimed worriedly. The way he guiltily avoided your gaze answered your question.

“For God's sake,” you groaned, kicking off the blankets and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed. Alarmed, Minho immediately reached to push you back down.

“I'm just going to get the healing kit,” you murmured under your breath, feet padding against the cold, marble floor. Once you returned, you gestured towards the bed.

“Sit down on the bed, you dummy,” you gave him an incredulous look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll clean your wound.”

A soft blush coated Minho's cheeks as he sat down on the bed, nervously tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. You placed the box on the chair he previously occupied, taking out all the items you would need.

Clearing his throat, Minho muttered, “I didn't know you were a healer.”

You smiled gently, preparing an herb decoction in the small washbasin. “I'm not, I just know a thing or two about treating wounds—there was a shortage of healers in our kingdom during the war.”

“Ah,” Minho awkwardly bit his lower lip, evading your gaze. “I see.”

After you were done with the herbs, you turned around to face him, pointing at his shirt. “Can you take it off? I, uh, I need to access your wound to properly wash it.”

“Yeah, of course,” his lips curved into a smile, hands reaching to pull the shirt over his head. If he noticed the heat rising to your cheeks, he didn't mention it, instead basking in the way your gentle hands began running over his torso as you carefully unwrapped the bandages.

After you were done, you placed the soiled gauze on an empty tray. Your cheeks were warm as you took in Minho in all of his—albeit slightly disheveled and injured—glory. Smooth planes of toned, sun-kissed skin that felt like heaven under your fingertips.

He was so… warm.

And you meant that in the most literal way—his body heat was unmatched. Perhaps it was due to the warm nature of fire, or the generally hot lands of the Crimson land, but his soft skin was radiating so much heat.

Not to mention his hair—dark and touseled, so unlike his usually tidy and neat updo. You had to resist the urge to run your hair through his curly locks.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

You immediately snapped your gaze back up to him, face heating up in embarrassment. “I-I… I wasn't—”

“Weren't what? Staring at me?” he smirked, his ego swelling up after having caught you staring at him for so long. Well, to be fair, it was nice to know that he had a similar effect on you as you did on him. When he noticed how flustered you were, his tone took on a softer edge.

“It's okay, Princess—no need to be embarrassed. After all, we will be soon husband and wife.”

Sadly, his statement only riled you on more as you grabbed your supplies.

“This may sting a little,” it's the only warning you gave him before beginning to gently run the wet cloth over his wound.

“Ah-ah,” he moaned in pain, clutching onto the bedsheets as if his life depended on it. Your eyes widened at the sinful sound, bitting at your lower lip.

“S-Sorry.”

Once you deemed the wound clean enough, you placed your palms against his toned chest, gently pushing him down on the bed.

“Stop it,” you grumbled, pinching his waist once you saw him wiggle his eyebrows suggestively… “It'll be easier for me to properly rinse the wound with the herbs if you're laying down.”

Chuckling, Minho submitted to your wishes, his back making contact with the bed. You kneeled beside him, grabbing a clean cloth before dipping it in the herbal tincture. Once it was completely soaked, you gently wrung it over his wound, wincing as he groaned in pain.

You repeated the process a few more times, until the wound was relatively clean, save for the few streaks of blood on the pinkish flesh.

“ ‘M sorry,” you mumbled quietly, reaching for a small tin. “I'm almost done.”

“It's okay, no need to apologize.”

After that, you applied some sage salve onto the wound and proceeded to tightly bandage it with a new gauze.

“Thank you,” Minho slid up into a seating position, pushing the sweaty hair from his forehead. You could tell that he was still recovering from the stinging sensations, breathing shallowly.

“It's no problem, just make sure to visit the palace physician to make sure everything is alright.”

When he didn't respond, you noticed how tense his shoulders looked. His brows were furrowed, almost as if he was deep in thought and he kept balling his hand into a fist before unclenching it. Seemingly, something was bothering him.

“Are you okay, Minho?” you decided to voice your concerns, nervously biting your lip.

“I–, uh… yeah. Don't worry about it, it's kinda stupid,” he chuckled anxiously, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Hey, hey… look at me,” you gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you. “Your happiness matters just as much as mine. If there's something bothering you, please tell me. Maybe I can help…”

“That's the thing,” he laughed bitterly, “I don't think you can help me with this.”

You peered at him, confused.

“It's just that— I…” the words seemed to get caught in his throat. “Were you with Jisung last night?”

As soon as he uttered the sentence, his head fell into his hands, embarrassed. “No, whatever, you don't have to answer. This is just the jealousy speaking—I shouldn't be concerned about that when your life was in danger yesterday—” he rambled on, clenching his hands into fists—a habit you have picked up on as a sign of stress.

“Minho,” you stroked his cheek with your palm, “Please, just look at me.”

He slowly lifted his head, eyes staring into yours. You noticed the wetness at the corners of his eyes—were those tears? You didn't ask, however, not wanting to put him on the spot. He seemed to struggle with being vulnerable and open with people, so you figured it would be better not to mention it.

“Why would you think I was with Jisung?”

“I don't know,” he grumbled, wiping his eyes. “You seem to like him a lot… and when Felix told me that you were sneaking out to the eastern district, I-I, I just figured you were secretly seeing him, you know… since the barracks are in the east too.”

“Oh Minho,” you thumbed the tear rolling down his cheek, “I didn't even know that the barracks were nearby. I promise that's not what happened. Me and Jisung, um, we talked it out already and there's nothing between us. We haven't actually spoken for ages…”

“I know… I should've known,” he corrected himself, “but I don't want you to cut him off completely, Y/N. I understand that he's someone close to you so please, don't feel like you can't spend any time with him. At least not too much,” he added after a short pause, making you giggle.

“Alright. I appreciate it, Minho.”

Despite Minho initially looking like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, you still felt like something was bothering him. Gently, you nudged him in the side, whispering, “Is that all that was bothering you?”

“Actually,” he breathed out, “it's not. There's so much about you that I don't know. You're such a fucking mystery to me, you know.”

You could hear the frustration in his voice, making the coil in your stomach tighten. Running a hand down his back, you whispered, “what exactly do you want to know?”

“Everything. Like what body wash you use cause it smells fucking amazing,” he grumbled, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Why thank you,” you giggled, attempting a curtsy in your seating position, “I use the same vanilla body wash I've used for my entire life.”

After a moment, his hand reached out for yours, gently interlocking your fingers.

“If I'm being honest, I still don't understand what exactly happened yesterday. Why were you out so late? Where even were you?”

“I was at the orphanage,” you mumbled quietly.

“Come again?”

“I was at the orphanage,” you repeated, this time louder, looking away in embarrassment. "When I found out in what poor conditions the place was, I decided to come every day and help clean the place and teach the kids how to read and count.”

“Of course you did,” Minho breathed out in exasperation. “I was so damn stupid—the missing supplies—I should've realized it was something like that. I know how sweet and selfless you are, Y/N, and trust me, it's one of your most magnificent qualities, but for once, just for once, could you have been a little selfish and thought of yourself?”

“What do you mean–”

“I mean that you shouldn't have stayed so long, but most importantly, you should've defended yourself!” he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he ran his other hand through his hair.

“They say that you're one of the most powerful benders from the Azure kingdom, so how come you didn't do anything to fend them off? They should've been small fish compared to you…”

And there it was. Minho had just asked the million-dollar question that you've been trying to avoid for the past few weeks. Your heartbeat quickened as sweat started to gather on your forehead.

“I-I…” you meekly whispered, the words not coming out. Minho noticed the apparent change in demeanor, as well as the way your shoulders began to tremble.

“Hey, it's okay, don't worry. You can tell me anything,” he coaxed you, gently gripping your waist and placing you on his lap. Brushing the hair out of your face, he whispered, “you can lean on me whenever something's bothering you, you know? That's what I'm here for.”

“I lost my p-powers, Minho.”

There… you said it. You uttered the sentence you hoped you would never have to say out loud. You awaited his reaction, the anger, confusion, and frustration that would follow.

Nothing.

Gently peering at him from under your lashes, you found his lips to be curled into a soft smile. Pity, you quickly realized. Oh no, he would break it to you know—the engagement would be broken off, your kingdoms would be at war again, you realized in panic.

“I-I couldn't tell you since I knew how important that aspect was to the royal court. As soon as they find out,” you hiccuped, “they'll formally break off the engagement… and my people… the Azure land c-can't take more war, Minho! We'll be obliterated so please, d-don't—”

“Do you seriously think I would break off the engagement because of that?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“Seriously, Y/N, I know I acted like a selfish prick at first, but do you really think that lowly of me? That I'd send you back home along with my army hot on your heels just because of that?”

Your eyes were glossy, “I… I don't know,” you admitted after a while, blinking away the tears. “Everything was fine before, but one day, I just couldn't summon them. And I was too scared to tell anyone since the final clause of the treaty is that the two of us marry and produce a powerful heir that should inherit both our abilities…”

Minho blushed furiously at the mention of an heir, the tips of his ears turning beet red. “I, uh, we'll find a cure, don't worry. If I have to, I'll travel with you far and wide to visit every healer in the kingdom.”

His words soothed your fears as you melted in his embrace. “T-Thank you, Min.”

He softened at the nickname. “Don't worry about it, everything will be okay.”

The two of you sat like that for another couple of minutes, Minho rubbing your back as you calm down from the onslaught of emotions. It was a bit embarrassing for you to cry in front of him, but despite the slight distress, you were glad you got those things off your chest.

And it seemed like it was quite a productive conversation for Minho as well. You could tell that it was rare for him to open up as much as he did. He wasn't used to being vulnerable in front of others, especially after his brother's passing.

Later at night, after he had carried you bridal style to your chambers, he told you that the two of you could visit the orphanage together first thing in the morning. After that, he kissed you on the forehead and wished you sweet dreams.

The cool breeze slipping from the open window made you shiver as you tangled your limbs into the sheets. A particular sentence from Minho had stuck with you, something that he said in between his frustrated exclamations of how careless you were.

“Please, Y/N. I was so scared history would repeat itself. I can't lose another one… I can't lose you…”

. ˚✧・* •

“Here you go,” Minho handed you fresh pastry, paying the woman as the two of you strolled through the market. It was pretty early in the morning, the sun still rising, as you walked hand in hand.

“You can't wear this,” you poked him on the shoulder, “everyone will recognize you.”

“So what? You're not really that incognito yourself,” he pointed at your face. “Soon, everyone in the nation will recognize you as my wife, and therefore, their lawful queen.”

“Minho,” you smacked your lips, hiding your embarrassment. “C'mon, let's go.”

The Minho that stood in front of you now looked quite unlike the Minho you were used to from the palace. His hair was dissheveled, the mop of unruly curls sitting atop his head and glimmering more than any crown could.

He was dressed in simple clothing, natural colors, and clean lines, both of which accentuated his sturdy build and the rugged charm he exuded.

You, on the other hand, were dressed in a plain, beige dress that fit around your body snuggly, a thin, leather belt fastened around your waist.

“Wait a second, I have an idea!” Minho exclaimed, tugging at your belt loop to bring you closer to him. His hand gently brushed against your neck, fingertips igniting all the sensitive nerve endings.

He pulled out a beautiful silken scarf, looping it under your hair before tying a knot, bringing your locks into a ponytail. “There, now you'll fit in.”

On your way to the orphanage, Minho acted as your tour guide, pointing at all the noteworthy monuments and retelling you the history of the city like he was a walking textbook. When you pulled out your trusty leather-bound notebook to take some notes, he immediately asked about its contents, and when he jutted his lower lip, you couldn't deny him.

“Well… it's actually just notes I took on the kingdom's history, culture, and the problem areas. I talked to some of the citizens and asked them about possible areas of friction.”

The memories of your amateur interviews came back to mind, heat rising to your cheeks. Minho seemed awfully intrigued, ears piqued in interest.

“I had told myself that I would bring up these issues once we shared some dinner but since that never happened…”

You trailed off solemnly, causing Minho to wince. He knew it wasn't proper of him to flake out like that but the sudden meeting that Felix sprang on him required his immediate presence.

“Anyways,” you turned the page in your notebook, beginning to read off all of your notes, “I was told multiple times that some of the men in power abuse their status. They leverage things like fresh water and raise taxes and there's no one to stop them.”

Minho frowned at the revelation, unsure of what to say. “That's not all,” you continued, looking him in the eye. “Apparently, you're very hard to reach—countless people have tried to set up an audience with you but they were never allowed—and these are only the few that aren't petrified of you.”

“Hmm, I honestly didn't expect that. Most of the internal affairs like requests for an audience go through a couple of people before they reach me—I'll have to ask them about that.”

Once the two of you reached the orphanage, Minho's hand nervously found yours. You could tell he was beginning to feel anxious, so you resorted to caressing his knuckles with your thumb.

“Don't worry, the kids will love you,” you beamed, brushing a curly lock from in front of his eyes. Minho blushed at the affectionate gesture, your hooded gaze unhelpful to the pink blossom on his cheeks.

“If you say so…”

Tapping your knuckle against the unpolished wood, you knocked a few times. When the door opened, Jihyo popped up from behind, grinning upon seeing you.

“Hey, welcome,” she pulled you into a tight hug. Only then did she notice your companion, welcoming him with a wave. “Are you Y/N's husband?” she gushed, holding the door for the two of you to enter. Heat rose to your cheeks at her words, but Minho simply smirked, “Not yet, but we're engaged.”

“Ah, this is so sweet,” she placed her hand in front of her lips, cooing. “Young love—it's so refreshing to see nowadays.”

As soon as you stepped into the cramped living room, a dozen or so kids immediately flocked to you, welcoming you with a smile.

“Hii, Y/N. Did you bring any sweets?”

“N/N, I missed you so much.”

“Who's this man? Why did he come with you?”

You chuckled at their inquiries, gently stroking their heads. “One by one, guys. I have something for you, don't worry, Gyu,” you nodded towards one of the boys who instantly lightened up, grinning from ear to ear.

“Aww, I missed you too, Rosie,” you hugged the pigtailed girl, turning around to face Minho. “And this is… Lino, he's very excited to meet you all—greet him warmly, please!”

Minho flushed at the nickname, barely concealing the smile that was peaking through his scowl. You laughed at the expression he made, the sound still ringing in his ears hours later like the most beautiful melody.

To see you like this, he couldn't get enough of it. He stood by the large glass window, resting his back against it as he watched you from afar, drunk on the sight. Not that looking at you wasn't a blessing in and of itself—far from that, actually.

Minho used to pride himself on being able to resist all things irresistible.

He learned how to accept defeat, and how to deal with things he never thought he would get in life. How to deal with the repercussions of watching people from afar have what he desperately wanted, but never thought he could have.

A normal, domestic life.

It used to ache him so much… after his brother's untimely death, he was faced with more than one cruel occurrence. He would have to be King. and because of that, any sort of life, with just a semblance of normalcy, should've been ruled out. Right?

Wrong… maybe.

The joyful screams and beams of laughter rang through the air as you chased around with the kids, your dress floating around whimsically. Oh how he longed for you to smile like that in his presence, he longed to be the cause for your happiness, just like these little rascals seemed to be.

The last blow to his already fragile and tender heart was when one of the girls jumped into your arms, which resulted in your holding her like one would hold a newborn, rocking her from side to side. He nearly burst at the sight, mind immediately wandering to what your kids would look like.

‘Fuck,’ he thought. It almost felt like you were doing this to him on purpose, trying to rile him up. He dismissed the idea though when you turned around to face him, a wide, innocent smile on your lips.

“C'mon, Min. Come join us, we're gonna play tag in the backyard!”

And just like that, Minho knew there was no going back.

. ˚✧・* •

“Teach him a lesson!” one of the men shouted, earning himself at least a dozen ‘yeah's’ from the gathered crowd. “Show him how it's done here in the Crimson land!”

Ignoring the hollers, Jisung wiped the blood from his busted lip, straightening up as he waited for the General to strike again. Unfortunately for him, the loud noises around him proved to be detrimental to his ability to focus, slowing down his reaction time.

Another round of applause rumbled as Felix managed to land another blow on him, this time hitting him straight in the jaw.

“You're awfully slow today, aren't you,” he remarked, brows shooting up. Jisung shot him a nasty glare, “And you seem awfully chatty. You think you can manage to win this battle by talking me to death?”

His taunt didn't draw out the reaction he wanted, the General not even blinking. “No, but I might beat you into a pulp if you don't step up your game, loverboy.”

Jisung ground his teeth at the taunt, knowing fully well what Felix was getting at. His irritation must've shown, as the most shit-eating grin appeared on the General's lips.

He just hit the nail in the coffin.

“Don't call me that,” he tried his hardest to sound intimidating, but it rather had the opposite effect. “Why shouldn't I? Isn't that who you are—a guard helplessly in love with the Princess? You must know that relationships like these are merely fantasies, right?”

When the lieutenant didn't answer, he continued, still watching his moves with a hawk eye. “Face, it—you'll never get–”

And that was all it took for Jisung to clench his fists

It wasn't for about ten minutes that Felix was declared the official winner of the match as he landed the final blow, punching his opponent in the gut. Jisung was sent flying across the makeshift ring, coughing up a bit of blood.

As he sat on the dirty floor, surrounded by a few dozen men, soldiers and farmers alike, he felt like the ground should swallow him up alive. His cheeks were warm, a soft shade of red blossoming from his neck upwards. Whether it was from the exertion his body went through or the bustling humiliation coursing his veins, he couldn't tell.

Tears welled up in his eyes making him hiccup, his lashes fluttering as Felix delivered the last kick… Before he could splutter out the words to give up, the ground was torn from under his wobbly feet and everything went black.

. ˚✧・* •

“Your Majesty!”

The loud knock wakes you from your peaceful slumber, a tired groan escaping your lips. “Coming,” you muttered, slinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

You paddled on your bare feet towards the wooden door, opening it to come face to face with one of the guards. Immediately, you felt a twinge of embarrassment as you realized that you were only wearing your silken night slip. The guard, however, didn't react in any sort of way, handing you a large rose bouquet wrapped indelicate wrapping paper.

“His Majesty ordered for this to be delivered to you,” he noted, before bowing down and walking away. The heat rose to your cheeks as you stood in the doorway with the large assortment of flowers, startled to the core.

You never would've pegged Minho as the romantic type…

Inside your room, you placed the bouquet on the table, noticing that a small, paper note had been attached to one of the flowers. Your fingers worked gently to unfold it, reading the contents in one go.

For Princess Y/N,

I hope you like them, sweetheart ♥ can't wait for our dinner tomorrow…

LMH

. ˚✧・* •

Later that day, you and Minho bumped into each other during lunchtime, and he suggested that the two of you grab something from the kitchen and sneak out on the balcony to eat.

“I looked over the issue with Count Choi and Viscount Kim,” he mentioned after swallowing down the last piece of the chicken pie. “Indeed, the two of them had gotten many complaints on how they ruled their regions; I can't believe this hasn't been brought to my attention.” his fists clenched, showing how frustrated he was with the situation.

“There's nothing we can do about that now, Minho. I'm just happy that we found out. It seems like this is a recurring pattern thought…” you trailed off solemnly, gazing at the city.

“Yeah. I'll have to have a little talk with some of the men in the Royal Court—this behavior is unacceptable.”

“It's good to know that you are interested in these things, I can tell that you care.”

Minho looked away, trying not to seem fazed by your words. His hand found its way onto yours, gently enveloping your palm, causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.

“I'm also looking into what can be done for the orphanage,” he relaxed his posture, tipping his head towards the blue sky. “So far, it seems that they lack mostly funding, so I'm going over it with the palace accountant—it seems like we'll be able to give them a more than healthy sum every month that should be more than enough to run the place smoothly. They should also be able to afford to employ one or two more people to keep the place running.”

Your smile brightened at the thought of Jiyho having some support, both financial and physical. She worked herself nearly to death, doing everything she could to keep the place going.

“Thank you, Minho,” you whispered, your words barely audible.

The Sun was glimmering, painting the sky in hues of gold. You gazed into the distance, a sense of newfound longing in your heart. “The sky's beautiful, isn't it?” you entwined your hand with his, voicing out your thoughts.

“Not as beautiful as you are,” came his breathless response. Your heartbeat quickened in surprise as you slowly turned around to face him. His lips were gently parted as he gazed at you with an intensity you've never seen before like you held the entire Milky Way in your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, your fingers numbly clutching onto the hem of your gown.

“You know you're the smartest, kindest, most stunning woman in the entire kingdom?”

You spluttered, unsure of how to respond to his words. The weight of his compliments hung in the air, an unexplainable tension forming between the two of you. Minho's gaze softened at your bashfulness, hand cupping your face.

“I mean that, you know,” his thumb gently stroked your cheek, causing you to nearly melt from his mere touch. “I know it's been difficult for you to adjust to your new life, but I want you to know that I'm so proud of you.”

A shiver ran down your spine, lashes fluttering at the pretext of what was going to happen next.

“I've been waiting for this for so damn long,” as if on cue, Minho breathed out, his warm breath fanning your cheek. You could almost feel the plush of his oh-so-soft lips on yours, excitement running through your veins.

Yet it seemed like the universe had a personal vendetta against you when you heard the door crash open.

“Your Majesty!” a guard in his early twenties burst in, bowing down.

You instantly jumped away from Minho, flustered from the sudden interruption. On the other hand, Minho's reaction was completely opposite to yours.

“What is it?” he grumbled, a light blush blossoming on his cheeks. Why did this always happen to him?

“We have just received a report that a famine had broken out in the northern villages. The last few caravans sent by Your Majesty had been attacked, resulting in there not being enough resources to keep the people in the area fed.”

A beat of silence followed before any of you spoke, the guard promptly excusing himself and leaving the two of you to wallow in the remains of the depressing statement. Your hand was still holding on to his, so you could feel the way he tensed. His brows were drawn together, lips set in a firm line as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

“Minho,” you tried to gently call his name, rubbing his back in hopes of soothing his anxieties. You were worried too, but you could tell how much more this affected him, despite his best efforts to hide it.

“Y/N,” he nervously bit down on his lip, “I know we were going to spend some time together—”

“Go,” you reassured him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I understand that this is a situation of utmost importance.”

His expression relaxed into a smile. “Thank you, I appreciate you being so understanding.”

“Oh please,” you waved him off, “it's nothing. I would gladly accompany you if you'd like, but I fear I would mainly impose…”

“Nonsense,” he held out his hand for you to take, like a true gentleman. “I'd welcome your presence. Besides, it's about time that the officials start getting used to seeing you around—after all—you don't think I'll the only one to decide on all the matters, don't you?” he grinned.

“If that's the case, I'd love to come.”

. ˚✧・* •

The air in the council chambers was as suffocating as the freezing winters of your land.

The room was laid out rather nicely, you presume. A voluminous ornate table at which all the council members gathered, large windows allowing copious amounts of sunlight to stream in through, and elegant paintings of the entire royal bloodline hanging off the walls.

Minho, as the Crown Prince and rightful heir to the throne, occupied the head of the table, and with the crown perched on top of his head, he looked more like the menacing ruler everyone made him out to be. You were sat right by his side, ears piqued as you listened intently to their conversation.

“Councilman Moon,” Minho's voice bounced off the walls, the authoritative edge ever so present. “I don't understand the point you are making. There's a famine breaking out—in what world is that not a priority matter for us to discuss?”

“If I may,” you intervene, gathering the attention of the rest of the councilmembers and Minho himself.

“Of course, Princess,” he spoke softly as if reassuring you with the gentlest of smiles.

“Thank you. So I wanted to follow up on what the Prince had said,” you brought your hands from your lap to the table. “Allowing a famine to spread would be way too risky—especially once it spirals out of control… Trust me, I have seen my Kingdom nearly fall apart due to there not being enough resources,” your brows furrowed at the unpleasant memories. “And that's not to mention that it would be a terrible decision to make, morally speaking.”

One of the men let out a distasteful scoff, and everyone's gazes immediately focused on him.

“Is there something amusing that you'd like to share with the rest of us, councilman Jung?” Minho snarled in his direction.

“Not exactly, Your Majesty. I merely believe that the Princess shouldn't speak on matters she outside of her scope of understanding.”

Before Minho could respond, you cut in. “Why do you believe that I possess no understanding of this topic? I have seen what hunger had done to my people, and I merely want to prevent history from repeating itself here.”

“What do you propose we do then, Your Majesty?” one of the kinder council members spoke up, intrigue lacing his tone.

“Well, first of all, I'd suggest that each caravan carrying supplies is accompanied by a small cell of soldiers that will make sure that no one comes to harm and that the supplies will be safely delivered to their final destination.”

Immediately, councilman Jung interrupted you, fiery gaze piercing through you.

“And where do you suggest we find all these soldiers? Trained men do not grow on trees, Your Majesty.”

“There's plenty of soldiers in the barracks right now, if I'm not mistaken,” you retorted, challenging him. “The war has ended, which means that most of the troops are now back home. Undoubtedly, there should be enough manpower to make sure that basic resources are redistributed in the land, isn't that correct?”

“Indeed, it may appear so, but what if conflict won't cease? The union has not yet been officially consummated, so who's to say what may or may not happen?”

Silence followed, and you were sure that if you tried, you would've heard a pin drop.

“E-Excuse me?” you managed to stutter after a while, frustration and confusion mingling inside of you. “What do you mean by that?”

“Yeah,” Minho cut in angrily, “what do you mean by that, councilman Jung? ‘Cause if I remember correctly, you were the same person that suggested we force the Azure kingdom to surrender since you believed that they would not agree to our terms. But they have, and Princess Y/N seated here beside us is living proof of that.”

“O-Of course, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to—”

“Not to mention that I do not appreciate your accusatory and rude tone. You spoke as if doubting the validity of this union. The official wedding ceremony will be held shortly, but that doesn't give you a reason to spout such denunciatory ies.”

The rest of the council was quiet, everyone holding their breaths as they watched the brawl between the cantankerous councilman and the Prince.

“To bring this meeting to an end, I propose that we go with the Princess' idea. She made many righteous points and I believe that this is the minimum we can do for our entire nation to remain prosperous.” he shot councilman Jung a venomous glare, effectively silencing him.

“And lastly, I would like to add something that should have been obvious in the first place.”

Scanning the room, eyes lingering on each and every one of the men present. “In no way are you to ever disrespect the Princess in such a manner, have I made myself clear?”

“Transparent, Your Majesty.”

. ˚✧・* •

The man ground his teeth, nervously walking around the room with his hand curled in his hair. This wasn't what he wanted to hear on a fine Saturday morning, not at all.

A guard slipped into his room, handing him the folded piece of paper and whispering in his ear. “Everything will go according to plan. He folded under the pressure immediately and agreed to do as you say.”

At least there was some good news.

. ˚✧・* •

The Sun had already begun to set when you started to get ready for your much-anticipated dinner. Despite how excited and giddy you were, the anxiousness stored in the back of your mind prevailed, causing you to stress unnecessarily.

You opted to prepare another cup of fresh tea, the healer having brought another batch. It was an improved recipe, he told you, and before you even took a sip, you could smell the sharp scent of apricots filling your nostrils.

A few isolated petals of a blush pink hue floated amongst the mostly-clear liquid. You downed most of the tea in a long, drawn-out gulp. The loud ticking of the clock reminded you that you were indeed on a time crunch, so you stood up, heading towards your closet to pull out the prized item of clothing.

Placing the red gown against your body, you twirled around like a giggly twelve-year-old, your heart racing at what would become of today's evening. You gently peeled off your simple dress, slipping into the bright-red one. Shivers ran down your spine as the satin made contact with your heated skin, leaving a blissful trail of tranquility.

You tied the bow at the back, tightening the gown at your waist before looking in the mirror, a pleased smile forming on your lips.

All that was left now was to tie your hair into a slightly more intricate updo that you would usually do, followed by a light spritz of your favorite vanilla-scented perfume.

A sudden wave of nausea crashed over you.

You had to bring your back against the wall, inhaling deeply to calm your erratic heartbeat. ‘Everything will be okay,’ you tried to tell yourself, pressing your hands to your cheeks. There was no reason to be worried, but then why was your heart racing like a horse running through a field?

It was one of those… that supposed gut feeling that you've heard, even read of. But you merely ignored it, sliding on a plain, gold bracelet around your wrist that matched the golden hems and stitchings of your dress.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of your chambers, both excitement and qualm coursing through your veins.

. ˚✧・* •

The halls were unusually empty, void of the customary liveliness and buzz you had attuned to.

The sleeves of your gown draped over your shoulders comfortably as you walked towards the grand dining room where you were supposed to meet Minho.

You nearly felt on top of the world, so much having changed since you first arrived. It felt like you finally had something to look forward to in this union—perhaps—that you wouldn't be shackled to a loveless marriage as you had previously believed.

The room was just a few more turns away. You could already smell the unmistakable aroma of brassiered chicken and many other southern delicacies.

As the tip of your foot made contact with the ground, you felt like the world was being torn from under your feet. With a quiet gasp, you folded over like a ragdoll, falling limply to the ground. A sudden burst of cramps ramped through you, causing you to convulse on the floor, hoarse cries of pain leaving your dry lips.

Once the sudden rupture of pain came to a stop, you nearly moaned in relief. Sweat lined at your forehead as your hands tried to grasp against the marble floor, attempting to support you into a seating position. But to no avail.

It took approximately a minute or two for the world around you to go pitch black.

. ˚✧・* •

Tick tock.

Minho watched the grandfather clock tick on the wall, brows furrowing at your absence. It was currently six-forty… you were ten minutes late. If it weren't for the dozen or so maids and cooks lining the wall of the dining room, he wouldn't have been as worried as he was now.

‘News traveled fast,’ he recalled, and what other new gossip could there be on a fine Saturday evening if not something as scandalous as the Crown Princess standing up her fiancé.

It was highly unusual for you to be late, that was what struck him first. What's more, it would be nearly unheard of for you to turn up late knowing how important today's dinner was for your image, especially amongst the palace staff.

Adjusting the collar of his crisp white blouse underneath his navy suit, he swallowed thickly, brushing off the nonexistent dust from his pressed pants. The golden fastenings of his jacket clinked, grabbing the attention of the people around him.

He nervously bit down on his lip, ignoring the curious glances from some of the younger maids as he kept his eyes trained on the clock. He knew that there was one more thing on their minds right now, and it was undoubtedly the odd color of his outfit.

It was unusual for a Crimson ruler to adorn the colors of the perceived enemy. He was taking a huge gamble by wearing navy, but he had hoped that the sightings of the two of you each wearing the other nation's colors would stir something within the people.

‘I hope you comes soon,’ he thought, sighing at the sight of the now cold food…

. ˚✧・* •

Jisung was walking down the hall when he suddenly noticed something peeking from around the corner. It was a small tuft of red fabric, or at least it seemed like it from afar.

He began walking briskly towards the spot—it was highly unusual for the palace floors to be littered with anything, having been cleaned multiple times a day. As he was getting closer and closer, he could see more of this supposed ‘piece of cloth’, rather, it was beginning to look more like… an arm?

His eyes widened in surprise, mouth ajar as an unconscious body came into view, limbs twisted under a gorgeous red gown.

“Y/N?!” he cried when he finally recognized you, his insides clenching at the sight. Your lips were parted, a sliver of drool on your cheeks. Nearly instantly (or as quickly as his shocked state allowed him to), he bent down to your level, fingers pressing to your neck to check your pulse.

‘Thank god,’ he thought, feeling the albeit slowed drumming of your heart. His hands slid under your body, hoisting you up with a grunt. His stomach was still aching from having been kicked there repeatedly by the General, but the adrenaline proved to do wonders for him once again as he briskly walked down the hall, heading for your bed chambers.

When he passed a maid, he immediately ordered, “The Princess is unconscious! Go get the palace healer and inform His Majesty about it.”

The girl hastily nodded, running off in what he presumed to be the direction of the infirmary.

. ˚✧・* •

For the nth time in the past few weeks, Minho felt his heart plummet to the depths of the sea. There was a weird buzz in his head, one that drowned out everything else, as the last bits of cohesion exited his body.

He had just been informed that you were taken into the infirmary by Jisung and that he requested for him to come as soon as possible.

When he had hoped there was a solid reason as to why you didn't arrive, this wasn't what he had meant.

Before he even knew it, his legs were carrying him in the direction of your bed chambers, heart erratically pounding against his ribcage. His ears suddenly picked up on what seemed to be an argument between two males. The closer he got to your room, the louder he heard one of them scream while the other begged for him to stop.

What the hell was going on?

His question was answered as soon as he burst through the door, panting, eyes scanning the room. He noticed you lying on the bed, frumpled, with your limbs curled under the sheets. Your face displayed a twisting of emotions, mainly pain, and exhaustion and it looked like you were knee-deep in a living nightmare.

Before he could come up to you and check how you were doing, he noticed something that concerned him highly.

In the corner of the room kneeled Jisung, pressing Seungmin to the floor, rage written all over his face. The healer underneath him thrashed in his hold, begging to be released.

“I'll ask you again: what the fuck did you put in that cup?” he growled in his ear, twisting his arms against his back. Seungmin writhed, bitting down on his lip. “I-I didn't do anything—you must've been mistaken!”

The two of them seems so engrossed in the brawl that they didn't even notice the Prince standing above them, livid.

“What's going on?”

His tone was dripping in authoritativeness, anger licking away at his insides. Both Seungmin and Jisung immediately snapped their heads towards the Prince, the latter spluttering to form a coherent answer.

“I brought Y/N inside and asked for them to call for you and a healer. This guy over here tried sneaking something into her water while I was tending to her.”

Minho's eye twitched as he glanced at Seungmin with newfound anger. “Is that true, Seungmin? Should I expect the palace healer to sneak things into people's drinks now?”

“Y-Your Majesty, I-I was merely…”

“You were merely what, Seungmin? I'm dying to know here,” he replied venomously.

“I-I… okay, I admit I did it, okay?” he suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks. Both Minho and Jisung watched him, stunned.

“You admit to what?” Jisung grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up until he was facing him directly. “What did you do?”

“I… the General… he,” Seungmin hiccuped, “He threatened me and my family. He said he would make me and my family suffer if I didn't…”

Minho clenched his fists, nearly growling, “What did he tell you to do? Answer me!” All of his attention was on the young healer, rage coursing through him.

“He made me add poison to her tea!”

Silence. If he had tried, he could've heard a pin drop.

Then, all the muscles in his face contorted into a mask of pure fury and disgust. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, nearly drawing blood as he pushed Jisung away, grabbing the trembling healer and pinning him against the wall.

His stare was icy, venomous, even but what scared Seungmin, even more, was the calmness in his voice when he spoke, “What did you put in her tea?”

“I-I'm not sure… the General just gave me a s-small pouch of flowers and told me to add it to her tea mixture. I r-really don't know, please…” he cowered under his stare, trembling.

His pathetic sobs were interrupted by a loud cough coming from your bed. Minho immediately let go, running towards you as Seungmin's body slumped to the ground, quiet sobs wracking through him.

“Y/N,” he called out for you, gently moving your head to the side so you were facing him. Your cheeks were warm, just like the rest of your body, and you felt unimaginably dizzy like the entire world was spinning around you.

“M-Minho,” you croaked, pupils dilating as you clutched onto his hand like it was your lifebuoy. “I-I feel sick…”

His heart cracked upon hearing your voice… so broken. “I-I…”

Before he could even say anything, something burst through the door, causing him to look up.

Or rather, someone.

“What happened?” Chan panted, directing the question at Jisung, but Minho was the one who answered, bsikly explaining what he had heard from Jisung and the servant.

“The Princess was poisoned?” a higher voice shouted in disbelief, only coming to view as she stepped out from behind Chan, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Minho seemed to recognize her from passing, but couldn't exactly place her face. Her hair was swept into a simple bun and she was dressed in a plain dress with an apron, making Minho believe she was one of the maids.

“I-I, uh, if I may, Your Majesty,” she gestured in your general direction, averting the Prince's eyes. “May I have a look? I have some knowledge in toxins and maybe I could…”

“Please,” he cut her off weakly, “Go ahead.”

Yuna crouched down beside you, wiping the sweat off your forehead with her sleeve. “How are you feeling, Your Majesty?”

“Y-Yuna,” you smiled at her, hand reaching to grab hers. “How have you been?”

“I'm sorry, I don't think it's the proper time to discuss this now,” she turned around at the three men behind her. “Please bring me some water and a clean cloth.”

Once Chan handed her the filled washbasin and a rag, she dipped the fabric in the water and placed it over your forehead.

“I'll need you to tell me exactly how you're feeling…”

You began to describe the type of pain you're going through, the nausea, and the pounding of your head. Yuna took notice of the way your pupils dilated, the gears in her head spinning as she tried to figure out what could've caused your poisoning. After all, the first step to finding an antidote was identifying the poison.

Suddenly, she turned around with a jerk, scanning the room. “Do you still have the mug she drank the tea from?”

Jisung immediately sprung up, grabbing two that were on your table and handing them over to the girl.

“It's useless,” Seungmin rasped from the corner of the room, guilt written all over his face. “The General was positive that it would be over once she drank it,” he supplied unhelpfully, ignoring the nasty glares he received.

Despite the healers' words, Yuna looked inside the first mug, frowning when she saw nothing. It was empty. When she began inspecting the second one, a gasp erupted from her throat as she dropped it.

The ceramic mug shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“T-That was a petal from…” she turned around to look at them, all hanging on her lips. “T-The Nerium Oleander…”

Chan frowned darkly, having heard the name somewhere before. “Isn't that the flower they used to poison—”

“Y-Yeah… it's how the Prince of the West was poisoned hundreds of years ago.”

Minho glowered, remembering the story from a passage in his history book. It was the most infamous case of poisoning, something remembered by all. His heart clenched at the thought of you facing the same end.

“I-Isn't there anything you can do?” he pleaded, voice cracking midway as he glanced back at you, tossing and turning in your bed.

“I—” she bit down on her lip, eyebrows furrowing as she racked her brain for a solution.

“I'm not sure about this,” she began, running a hand through her hair, “But I believe I read about garlic having particularly good antitoxins for poisonings such as this one.”

“Whatever you need, tell me… I'll bring it to you,” Minho pleaded.

“Okay. I'll need a few cloves of garlic, some activated charcoal, and a medicine trunk—preferably the one from the main infirmary.”

. ˚✧・* •

An excruciating ten minutes later, Minho returned, panting. He handed Yuna all the things and she immediately got to work, carefully propping you against the headboard. Your head lolled to the side, eyes struggling to stay open.

She added a spoonful of the black powder into a cup of water, thoroughly mixing it. When it all dissolved, she pressed the cup to your lips, gently tipping your head backward. “You have to drink this, Your Majesty.”

In your weakened state, you gulped down the dark liquid, gagging at the nasty texture. Once you finished, Yuna handed you a glass of plain water which you gratefully accepted. “This will make sure you get the full dose,” she explained.

“Now,” she chopped up the garlic into thin pieces, placing it in the mortar with some other herbs, “I'll prepare this paste for you to eat. It won't be tasty, but it should hopefully combat the toxins from the oleander.”

Once finished preparing created the foul-smelling paste, she fed it to you in spoonfuls. You groggily swallowed it down, clutching onto the sheets with newfound vigor. Who knew, maybe you'd even survive this ordeal…

You took the moment to survey the room, finally feeling conscious enough to gather what had exactly gone down. You saw Seungmin crouched in the corner of the room, head in his hands. Chan and Jisung were sitting by the table, both distressed.

Last but not least, Minho was standing, his back propped against the wall. His hair was disheveled, matted locks pressed to his forehead and a singular tear ran down his cheek, causing your heart to shatter.

It took you a few moments to register what he was wearing. The navy suit hugged his body and showed off his built physique, the golden fastenings only adding to the whole visage. It dawned upon you that he'd chosen to wear your nation's colors, just like you would've worn the scarlet dress.

“Minho,” you suddenly croaked, catching the attention of everyone in the room. The Prince's head snapped toward you, eyes watering. He immediately ran to your bed, kneeling beside you as he grabbed your hand in his, gently intertwining your fingers with his.

“How are you feeling?”

A loud cough tore from your throat, promptly providing him with an answer. “Oh, Y/N… everything will be okay, alright? I-I promise…”

Then he turned around, gaze hardening. “Captain,” he looked at Chan, hands clenching into fists. “I want you to go find General Lee and arrest him at once.”

Venom was dripping from his tone, and Chan immediately understood that this wasn't just a question. It was a command.

“Where should I put him, Your Majesty?”

“The dungeon,” he muttered darkly. “I want him locked up with all the criminals he had put behind bars himself.”

Chan saluted, running off to find the General.

Meanwhile, Yuna finished preparing the antidote, a sigh of relief escaping her parted lips. “I'm done, Your Majesty. Quickly, we don't have much time to spare.”

You promptly opened your mouth, allowing her to feed you spoonfuls of the potent mixture. Your gag reflex was activated as soon as the bitter flavor attacked your tastebuds, but knowing what would happen if you refused, you involuntarily swallowed down every last bit.

“Water, p-please,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling like you would throw up. Minho jumped to his feet, filling up the cup from the pitcher and bringing it to your lips. He benevolently tipped the cup, supporting the back of your head with his palm. As you greedily gulped down the liquid, he threaded his fingers between your locks, tenderly massaging your scalp.

“What should we do now?” he asked Yuna, placing the cup on the nightstand. The girl looked at him with wide eyes, nervously twirling a strand of hair between her finger.

“Now… now we wait. If I did everything correctly, the antidote should be contouring the poison. Her Majesty will have to rest for a few days, that's for sure—no exerting her mind or body—but after that, she should make a full recovery. But if I didn't…”

“No,” he cut her off. “Don't say that. I'm sure you did everything that you could and I trust you, alright?”

She smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

“You should go rest up. I'll stay here with Y/N and make sure everything is alright. I'll call for you if anything happens.”

. ˚✧・* •

The following days were some of the hardest moments in Minho's life.

However, the excruciating pain he went through while having to watch you writhe in discomfort didn't compare to the suffering you had to be going through.

Despite his exhaustion showing in many ways, namely the dark circles under his eyes and his clothes sticking to his sweaty body. All and all, he felt almost disgusting, but he refused to leave you side for more than a few minutes.

After a few days, it was obvious that you would make a recovery. Minho nearly weeped in joy when you suddenly sat up, looking him dead in the eye as you muttered, “You stink.”

He breathed out a short laugh, a light, husky sound that you thought was beautiful.

“How are you feeling?” he then asked, eyes watering as he took in your whole body, relief washing over him.

“I'm fine, just a bit numb,” you answered truthfully, lifting your hand above your head in an attempt to stretch your sore muscles. “Although I am craving some chicken pie…”

Minho chuckled, patting the top of your head with a gentle laugh. “On it!”

It was later that night that you realized how incredibly lucky you were as the two of you each enjoyed a few slices of chicken pie.

. ˚✧・* •

“Please, Minho,” you stubbornly jutted your lower lip, throwing your sock-clad feet in the air as you watched your fiancé button up his blouse. His expression remained stone-cold, but you could already see the cracks in his resolve.

“Why won't you let me come see him? If I'm going to be the Queen, I should at least be able to face my enemies, don't you think?” And in a much quieter tone, you added, “I'd at least want to know what made him hate me enough to try to poison me…”

“Y/N,” Minho sighed, rubbing his temples. “I really don't think it's a good idea for you to see him right now—you're supposed to be resting, remember?”

“I know,” you groaned, “but it's been over a week—I'm fine now, okay? Besides,” you gave a lopsided smirk, “If you don't want me to exert myself, you can always just carry me there…”

Minho blushed at your words, clumsily buttoning the last button up on his shirt. “I, uh, still… I really don't like the idea of you being in the vicinity of that bastard.”

With the way his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, a thought popped up in your head. “By any chance… you didn't,” the words dried in your mouth, “you didn't hurt him, did you?”

The Prince immediately understood what you meant by the word hurt. You were asking him if he had tortured, or perhaps even killed the young General who had dared to commit the highest form of treason. To be fair, Minho had all the prerogative to do as he pleased with him after he'd attempted a hand at the future Queen's life.

A slow, controlled breath left his lips. “No, I didn't. I had thought about it though, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't even bring myself to face him. The two of us grew up together for God's sake.”

You could hear the frustration in his tone as you gently rubbed his back in hopes of soothing his nerves. “But you know what angers me the most?”

Knowing that it was a rhetorical question, you didn't answer, allowing him to continue. “I hate the fact that I didn't see it coming. I noticed that he behaved a bit weird around you, but I chalked it up to him looking out for me, wanting to make sure I marry someone he deemed worthy…”

“Minho, please, don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control. It's no surprise that you didn't see it coming—nobody suspects the people closest to them, that's just how it is.”

“I know,” he released a shaky breath, “But I can't help but feel like I failed you.”

“Oh please,” your hand reached to cup his cheek, “Don't say that. Now let's go, I think there's a General waiting for us to visit.”

“Alright, but you have to promise me one thing, okay?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, suppressing the smirk that formed at the corners of your mouth. “Sure.”

“Stay behind me at all times, alright? The dungeon's a dangerous place and knowing that you'll be going there without being able to protect yourself makes my skin crawl.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, “I'll stay by your side.”

. ˚✧・* •

The stairs leading to the dungeon were dark and damp, the pungent smell of mold causing your nostrils to flare. Minho was walking in front of you, your hand clasped in his as he carefully guided you down the spiral staircase.

Once you arrived, your eyes flew from one side to the other, taking in the crumbling stone walls.

There were about a dozen or so cells in the dungeon, and only about half of them were occupied. On the far left, you spotted a mop of silver curls, akin to Felix's. You quietly pointed in that direction, whispering, “Is that him?”

“Yeah.”

Slowly but surely, Minho walked up to his old friend, an odd sense of fake confidence to his steps. You trailed behind him, fire in your eyes as you awaited the moment you'd come face to face with the man who plotted your near-murder.

The closer you came, the more your heart plummeted in your chest. The heels of your boots clanked against the cold stone, complimenting the pitter-patter of the water draining down the sewage system.

“General Lee,” Minho spat out venomously, hand reaching to push you behind his body. You nearly rolled your eyes at his protectiveness, but you found it endearing nonetheless.

Felix's head was slumped down, facing the ground as the two of you approached. More than two weeks had passed since his arrest, and the harsh conditions of the dungeon were beginning to take an evident toll on him.

“Felix,” you finacé called again after he didn't respond, worry beginning to show on his face. “Answer me.”

Slowly but surely, the General raised his head, not bothering to straighten his posture that was held down by the shackles holding his wrists above his head. His bloodshot eyes were oddly glassy, a shiver running down your spine once you made eye contact.

“Well well… to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Minho growled, “don't be cheeky with me, Felix. Not after you've committed the highest form of treason.”

The man attempted to raise his hands up in defense, an apologetic smile appearing on his lips when he was stopped mid-way by the bounds on his wrists. “Then why has the royal couple decided to pay me a visit?”

“You should already know by now,” Minho clenched his fists, tearing his gaze from his once close friend, “that I want answers. I want to know what made you do the things you did, Felix?”

The frustration in his tone was evident, and you wished you could just take him from this place. Your earlier need to see Felix face to face diminished into dust.

“You know,” Felix suddenly spoke up, his grave tone echoing in the dimly-lit room, “I've always been jealous of what you had.”

After a short pause, he continued. “The money, the fame, the love… it felt like you had the entire world at your fingertips, while I had to wrestle through all the stages of life with nothing to my name… not even a home to return to.”

“Felix… I-I—”

“No, Your Majesty,” Felix cut him off pointedly. “This isn't just about poor orphaned Felix. No. This about who made me an orphan in the first place!”

To say that Minho was stunned would be a gross understatement. His eyes were filled with confusion as he peered down at the man he once considered his closest friend. The two of them grew up nearly side by side, and if it weren't for Minho’s royal duties kicking in prematurely due to his older brother's death, they likely would've been even closer.

“I-I don't understand… if you hated me so much, why did you pretend to be my friend all your life? Not to mention, why were you after Y/N in the first place? She didn't do anything!”

The tremor in his voice became clearer, something that you noticed when his hands began shaking. “I still don't get it, Felix… you tried to kill her for fucks sake! When she didn't do anything to deserve it…”

Suddenly, he looked straight at you, locking eyes with you as he snarled, something akin to anger and resentment bubbling up in his throat. “Maybe she didn't, but her worthless scummy people definitely did.”

Felix's eyes darkened with an emotion you weren't able to place, and if looks could kill, both you and Minho would be six feet under.

“You know,” he growled, hands jerking in the binds, “our father was a real piece of work.”

“Our? What the hell are you talking about, Felix,” Minho snapped in bewilderment. What was going on? Why was he feeling like he was about to hear something he didn't like?

“He thought he got rid of all of them,” his voice cracked midway, causing your heart to shatter. “B-But my mother managed to run away with me and hide near the northern border.”

Finally finding your voice, you whispered, “A-Are you trying to say that—”

Instead of answering your question, Felix's hands burst into flames, the fiery inferno licking away at the metal cuffs. A maniacal laugh tore from his throat, causing you to freeze in your spot.

The metal binds around his wrists began to melt, silver liquid dripping down on the floor. His eyes were darkened, and frankly, it was the most scared you'd felt in your life. Utterly terrified would fit better.

The General, after having regained footing, walked up to the metal bars, the only thing separating him from you and Minho. A lopsided smirk appeared on his face as he whispered, “didn't realize you had a younger brother, did you, Minho?”

The way he said his name… you could tell it stupified the Prince. His eyes were wide, hands trembling as he stood rooted to his spot, unable to tear his eyes from the sight in front of him. Hearing Felix address him like that sure did a number on him, especially hearing the venom dripping from his tone.

It was like he was talking to a completely different person.

His lips parted, and in a soft breath, he whispered, “Do you know what happened to us after that?”

A gentle shake of the head was enough of an indicator for him to continue. “The Azure soldiers raided the village and killed my mother. I was locked in the basement as she let out her last breath.”

And then, almost instantly, fire erupted in his eyes. He grinned uncontrollably, hand surging forward as a mass of fire, shaped into a sharp dagger cut through the air.

“NO!” you screamed, realizing what he was about to do. Your hand shot forward, grabbing onto your fiancé's tunic, and in a frenzy, you pulled back, both of you falling to the ground.

You winced under his weight, wheezing before you noticed the small burn mark on Minho's cheek. He was dumbfoundedly rubbing at the gash as if he was still processing what had just happened, blood seeping through his fingers.

By now, the guards must have had heard the hubbub as a dozen or so soldiers ran down, bursting through the door and making quick work of restraining the former General.

And what worried you the most was how easily he let them take hold of him. Not once did he attempt to fight back, even though you were positive that he could've obliterated them with his newly-revealed powers. And even without them, General Felix was undoubtedly one of the most feared swordsmen and fighters in the nation.

As two of the guards escorted you and Minho out of the dungeon, you couldn't help but turn around one last time, catching Felix's smug leer.

“This isn't over,” he mouthed with a grin, holding your gaze for a few more seconds before one of the guards rammed his head into the cobblestone.

. ˚✧・* •

The chirping outside the window caused you to stir in your sleep, sighing as you cuddled back into your fiancé's toned chest.

“Are you awake?” his raspy woke you up, a whine escaping your lips. “As a matter of fact, I wasn't…”

A throaty chuckle left his parted lips, a sound you found wholly attractive, but you'd never tell him that. Instead, you pressed yourself closer to him, enjoying the warmth he exuded. It was on days like these that you were grateful that Minho slept shirtless.

After the unpleasant incident with Felix in the dungeons, he insisted on taking an entire week off. It was something that the two of you desperately needed—some alone time to heal from the unsettling experience.

All and all, you were happy Minho had made that choice. The two of you got to spend loads of quality time together, indulging in each other's presence. The mornings were particularly nice, especially when Minho pampered you with kisses, his wolfish hands running all over your body.

“Did you drink your medicine yesterday?” he murmured in your ear.

“Yes, mom,” you rolled your eyes. He had been asking you the exact same question for the past week, making sure you drank the herbal mixture that would revert the toxins from the poisoned tea you had been unknowingly drinking.

A sudden smack echoed through the room.

“Minho,” you cried, rubbing your sore bottom. “That hurt!”

The Prince chuckled, a teasing grip on his lips. “Oops, my bad.”

Turning around, you stared him in the eye, pouting. “You just wanted an excuse to slap my butt, didn't you?”

He huffed in response, “Please, that was just a light tap.”

Despite your best efforts to hide the corners of your mouth lifted up into a smile, “Two can play this game, you know?”

Minho's eyes widened when you reached out your arm and smacked his bum. “Ouch! That's not fair, you hit me a lot harder!”

His whines were cut short as a sudden knock sounded through the room. The both of you stilled, holding in the bursts of laughter. Something like this was always bound to happen at the funniest moments.

“What is it?” Minho called, too lazy to get out of bed. His hand was gently stroking your cheek, a gesture that always made you melt into his touch.

“Your Majesty! The dressmakers will arrive shortly. Where should we house them?”

“Give them one of the larger rooms in the southern wing. You can tell them that Her Majesty will be ready at noon.”

You grasped Minho's hand in yours, entwining your fingers. “The dressmakers?”

“Yeah. I requested the most famous tailor to design your wedding dress. She only works with the highest quality fabrics and is known throughout the kingdom.”

“Minho,” you murmured. “You didn't have to go that far. If it came down to it, I'd marry you in a jute bag if I had to. ”

“Nonsense,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, heat rising to your face. “I only want the best for my angel.”

“Ever the romantic,” you snorted, pulling him closer. Your nose bumped into his collar bones, inhaling the scent of his musky cologne.

“Only for you, baby.”

After a while, Minho dragged you out of bed, claiming that the two of you needed to go on with your days. You enjoyed a hearty breakfast before you were forced to separate—you heading towards the dressmaker while Minho went to take care of some paperwork.

. ˚✧・* •

“Your Majesty,” the woman, Chaeryoung, greeted you with a curtsy, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. Even at first sight, you could tell that she had impeccable taste. Her gown looked like something straight out of a fairytale causing you to open your mouth in awe.

Clasping her hands together, she chirped, “Let's get you dressed in some of my finished pieces so we can get an idea of what suits you best, alright?”

Two hours and approximately twenty dresses later, you were finally done. The design you two came up with was still in the works, but you've established a few key elements.

Firstly, the dress would be made out of angora silk—the softest and most expensive type of silk there was. Heat rose to your cheeks when Chaeryoung told you, squashing your meek protests.

“I will not tolerate anything less for the Queen's wedding dress.”

Secondly, you decided on the silhouette; a basque, ballgown-like overskirt that flared at the waist with lace trimmings. It was a rather pompous design in your opinion, but Chaeryoung assured you that you would look fantastic. And in a sense, you would be fulfilling your childhood dream of wearing a princess-like gown at your own wedding so without much reluctance, you agreed.

Your hair would be pinned up into a twisted low bun with some scarlet peonies woven in—a simple updo that wouldn't take too much attention off your face. On top of that, you'd adorn a modest, sheer veil with jewels at the hem.

Stretching your arms above your head, you stepped into Minho's bedroom, plopping yourself on the bed. The sheets were infused with his smell, something you had come to love while falling asleep by his side.

. ˚✧・* •

“You know, I never actually brought anyone here,” Minho mused as the two of you walked through the secluded park hand in hand, his warm palm enveloping yours.

“How come?” you piped, looking at him intently, a bright sort of curiosity glimmering in your eyes. The palace gardens were vast, in fact, you figured they could've been bigger than the grounds of your palace back in the Azure land.

His eyes suddenly filled with sorrow, “My brother used to take me here all the time when we were little.”

“Oh,” the word left your lips in a partial breath, immediately feeling guilty for having asked in the first place. “I'm sorry.”

“No, no. Don't be,” Minho responded, “It's okay, don't worry. I'm just happy that I get to spend some time with you. I'm sure my brother would've liked you a lot…”

“You think so?”

His hands dropped to your waist, pulling you into his chest. “I know it.” A teasing smirk appeared on his face as he pinched your side, leaning down and connecting your lips in a heated kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but eventually, you melted into his embrace, hands sliding around his neck to tug at the strands of his hair.

“Sweetheart,” he rasped, pulling away in a breathless daze. “I-I… thank you. For everything.”

The sincerity in his eyes almost made your knees buckle, your hand reaching to caress his face. It wasn't usual for Minho to show vulnerability, and you were happy he felt comfortable enough with you to share such personal moments with.

You leaned towards him, pressing your lips to his in a much shorter sweet peck, smiling brightly. “He would've been so proud of you, Min.”

Minho looked puzzled for a second, before a look of understanding spread across his face. Warmth filled his orbs as he leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of your jaw, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Then, he gently brushed the hair out of your face before he kneeled down on one knee. Taken aback, you lifted your brow, unsure of what he was doing. The light breeze tousled the locks in front of his eyes, the scene beginning to remind you of one straight from a romance novel.

“Y/N,” he began, gazing into your eyes with such intensity it made your head spin. “You know, I never would've expected to fall in love with you,” he spoke softly into the whistling wind, breaking your gaze for a second.

“Our first meeting was surrounded with unpleasant circumstances, but because of that, I feel like I can appreciate the bond we've built even more.”

You nodded wordlessly, silently agreeing with every word he said. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before he continued, “And I've come to realize how wonderful of a person you are. Never in the twenty-two years I've been alive have I met someone as kind and selfless as you, not to mention you're a real goddess,” he added with a wink.

“Minho—” you spluttered, feeling bashful under the waterfall of compliments he was issuing you. “I-I, uh, I mean…”

“It's okay,” he pressed his thumb to your lower lip, effectively silencing you. “Let me do all the talking, sweetheart.”

When you nodded timidly, he carried on, “And one afternoon, I realized that I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. I want to wake up by your side every morning and go to sleep next to you every night. I want us to rule the land together and start a family with you.”

His hand dug into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box. He opened it with ease, holding out the delicate ring with a small ruby stone in the middle.

“Y/N, I'm asking you not as the Prince, not as the future King, but as Minho… Lee Minho. Will you marry me?”

You brought your trembling hand to your mouth, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you whimpered, “Y-Yes. I'd l-love to…”

A relaxed smile appeared on his lips, previously tense shoulders relaxing as he slipped the wedding band on your ring finger. It fit like a glove. Bringing your hand to his mouth, he pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, holding in the joyful screams that chafed at his throat.

You placed your hand onto his cheek, pulling his head up so you could lock lips once again, the warm tears searing your flesh.

And just like that, the two of you enjoyed your last week together before the wedding preparations came in full throttle.

. ˚✧・* •

“Minho, please,” you burst into your now shared bedroom with pleading eyes, “Help me hide!”

“What did you do this time?” your fiancé raised a brow, an amused chuckle escaping his parted lips. He was sprawled across the bed, long legs nearly dangling off the edge of the mattress with a leather-bound book in his hand.

You hated to admit it, but Minho could pull off anything while looking sinfully attractive.

Shutting the door behind you gently, you took a deep breath to steady you heartbeat. After all, you had run all the way from the southern wing. “For your information, I didn't do anything. But they were gonna make me choose what color napkins I want for the reception. Do you hear that? Napkins—”

Minho had to stifle a laugh at the frustration in your tone, sitting up to pull you onto his lap. You fell into his hold with a slight yelp, heat rising to your cheeks at the close proximity.

“How 'bout I make it up to you, baby?”

The blood stilled in your veins at his flirtatious words, immediately feeling yourself curl into a ball at his playful actions. Minho noticed the change instantly, guilt washing over him.

“Hey, hey,” he cupped your cheek, tilting your head upwards until you had no choice but to look at straight at him. His chocolate orbs held nothing but fondness, which helped you relax into his touch. “There's no need to be shy, Princess. I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay?”

You leaned in closer, resting your head against his chest and inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. “I'm sorry, I know you'd never do anything like that,” your breath hitched in your throat. “I'm just a bit nervous about the wedding, that's all.”

“Why are you nervous? Are the preparations not going well?”

You shook your head softly, “No, that's not that. I'm just anxious about how the people will think of me as their new Queen…”

“We've been over this a million times,” Minho murmured against the top of your head, gently rubbing your back. “And my initial opinion still stands—they will love you. You're a good person and sooner or later, they'll realize that you have their best intentions at heart.”

“I hope you're right,” you sighed. He responded with a smile, “Don't worry. I know I'm right…”

Then, he leaned down until his lips were ghosting above yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

Afraid that the words wouldn't leave your mouth, you nodded, fluttering your lashes as he sealed your lips with a heated kiss. You felt heat spread all across your body, as if the warmth from his lips was seeping into your every cell. His hands slowly lowered from your waist to your thighs, the pads of his thumbs gently running over the sensitive skin.

It sent electric jolts that went straight to your stomach, warmth pooling at your belly. You pressed yourself closer to him, mewling at the feeling of his nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

After what felt like eternity, Minho disconnected your lips with a groan, lips curling into a teasing grin.

“I think this has been a long day for you. Wanna cuddle before we go to sleep?”

“Yeah,” you yawned, exhaustion slowly taking over you. “I'd love that.”

. ˚✧・* •

The day had finally arrived.

After weeks upon weeks of meticulous and rigorous planning, you were finally about to step out and walk to the altar where your union would be officially sealed, the treaty officially coming into effect.

And despite the fact that you had been preparing for this moment nearly your entire life, your heart felit like it would jump out of your chest with how fast it was beating.

You would be marrying Minho today.

You would become the Queen.

And for some reason, you felt a tug at your chest. Fear and excitement were coursing through you, the stark contrast of emotions swirling inside of you like a tornado.

Your hand dropped to your chest, picking up the shimmering, crystal pendant that Minho gifted you a few days prior.

“Your Majesty,” Yuna's voice sounded through the wooden door, causing you to look up. “You'll be up in a few minutes.”

Taking a deep breath, you mustered all your energy to respond in a calm and collected way. “Of course… I'm coming.”

Stepping out of the dressing room, you readjusted your dress at the waist, smoothing down the nonexistent creases on your robe. The soft silk felt like heaven under your fingertips, and you grinned appreciatively at the delicate lace hems.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, Your Majesty,” Yuna giggled, unable to hold it in. Her hands immediately reached to readjust the red peonies woven into your hair, making sure that everything was in place.

It all went by in a blur; you were suddenly pushed down the aisle, a chorus of cheers and applause ringing through your ears. The velvet carpet crunched under your heels, and to your surprise, you noticed that the edges of the rug were lined with fresh peonies, not unlike the ones in your hair.

It seemed like Minho was really pushing this whole flower aesthetic, and if you were honesty, you were living for it.

When your eyes met, it felt like fireworks erupted in your chest. Minho had impeccable taste, that much you knew, but this was the first time you'd seen him dressed to the nines like this.

A crisp white suit adorned his body, the snug fit merely accentuating his broad shoulders. His russet hair was gelled to the back, revealing his forehead with only a few strands falling from the slick updo.

You nearly gasped when you saw the azure colored pocket square was neatly arranged in his breast pocket, the shade unmistakenly reminding you of your nation's true colors.

Everything went quiet, the screams and the hollers of the people dying out in favor of all the eyes slowly gravitating towards you. You could feel every single pair of orbs on you, a shiver running down your spine. As you walked down the aisle with the large, orchid bouquet in hand, your eyes locked once more. He gently took ahold of your hand, the two of you walking the last steps to the altar together.

“Princess Y/N of the Azure nation, do you take Prince Minho as your lawful husband that you will cherish in sickness and health and promise to stay faithful to for as long as the two of you shall live?”

Inhaling, you responded, loud and clear, “I do.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

Everyone cheered, throwing their hands in the air as Minho pressed a kiss to your lips. It was short and sweet, yet managed to convey so many emotions, like hope and promise for a better future.

Your finger was now adorned with two rings; the one he proposed with and the simple wedding band that matched his.

Never in your entire life had you felt such a rush of endorphins. Blood was coursing through your veins, the excitement, and the atmosphere filling you with a sense of warmth.

Minho suddenly grabbed your hand, raising it above your head with a smirk. “Do you wanna show them?”

You nodded almost instantly, knowing what he wanted to do. Simultaneously, frozen icicles shot from your hand, bursting through the air as Minho did the same, except it was fire that was bursting from his fingertips.

The crowd started cheering at the showy display of power as loud chants tore from their throats.

“Long live the Queen!”

. ˚✧・* •

Jisung was watching you from the swarm of people, craning his neck to watch you from his seat in the fourth row. Next to him, Chan glanced down at him, clearly worried for his friend as he mumbled, “Are you sure you're okay?”

He nodded in response, refusing to tear his eyes from the scene in front of him. Minho had just kissed you in front of the entire kingdom. He knew he should've been happy for you, especially after seeing that genuine smile on your lips along with the glimmer in your eye.

But Jisung couldn't help himself from feeling a pang of jealousy in his heart as he watched you and Minho's hands connect. Despite knowing that you were now married to another man, he couldn't just let go of his feelings for you.

And as he watched the two of you smile at each other from under your lashes, gazing into each other's eyes like lovestruck fools, Jisung's heart shriveled up in his chest like a decaying flower on a summer evening, blown away by the breeze till nothing was left but dust.

. ˚✧・* •

epilogue:

A maniacal laugh tore from his throat as he perked his ears. He could hear the wedding bells all the way down here.

The freezing temperature no longer affected him, skin having grown numb to it a long time ago, and the damp smell seeped through every thread of his tunic, irreversibly marking it with its unbearable stench.

His eyes glimmered under the moonlight, sharp and cunning as always. He was a calculative man, for sure, and right now, he was weighing out his odds.

Perhaps escaping wouldn't be as hard as he had initially thought…

a/n: my longest piece to date :) I hope you enjoyed and I applaud you for coming so far! please please let me know your thoughts :< it's what keeps me going on here :> also, shout out to the people that can recognise who was based off of who (as in which character from subZero)...

950 notes · View notes

armysantiny · 1 year

Text

-[ skz; inviting their crush to the gym/swimming pool and noticing their crush’s other tattoos when he walks out shirtless

Minnie's notes; god this became a monster of its own creation lol, for some reason I kept making each one longer and longer- this was fun!

Bang Chan | 방찬

You and Chan go swimming after gym fairly regularly together, so logic says that Chan shouldn’t be surprised when he sees you shirtless – he lives with three other guys, two of which share his relaxed outlook about walking around shirtless. He’s seen most of your tattoos as well. This is normal for Chan.

What isn’t normal is the heat rushing to his cheeks when you pop out of the changing rooms – shirtless – asking if he has a spare shirt you can borrow because you forgot yours. No, Christopher Chan Bang doesn’t have a crush on you that’s been bubbling away for weeks.

Absolutely not.

“Hyung..? You okay?” Ohoho, was that a new tattoo on the small of your back? When did you get it done? Why does he want to run his hands over it?

“Uh— yeah, yeah…I’m fine~ I’ll grab it, don’t move y/nie~” Hopefully you didn’t notice him sparing a second glance to admire your new body art. And the bright red blush on his face.

Lee Minho | 이민호

Minho enjoys going to the gym with you; you’re a motivational workout buddy, funny, are eager to try whatever food he makes afterwards, and did he mention that he’s fascinated with your tattoos? You look fucking amazing, in his humble opinion.

No he isn’t a little fixated on them, shut up. And no, his ears do not become red when he catches a peek of your tattoos – especially your pecs – when you’re sweating after a workout.

What do you take him for? A schoolboy with a crush?

Okay, maybe he has a crush on you. Sue him. You’re attractive as fuck (his words) and a great person; what was he supposed to do? Not fantasise about those arms?

So when you crash at his dorm after a late night gym session and pop into the living area to ask him if you can borrow a shirt – while entirely shirtless, in front of the others – his ears are bright red. His gaze fixes on the new tattoos across your chest and he malfunctions in real time, ignoring the kids staring at his reaction.

“Just— just pick anything you want.” Did this man just stutter?

“Sure thing hyung~ thanks!”

Seo Changbin | 서창빈

Changbin met you at the gym and the pair of you immediately hit it off. You admired his commitment to working out and staying in shape, and Binnie couldn’t help but be fascinated by how sweet and soft you seemed in comparison to the sheer number of impressive tattoos you have.

So he’s not exactly surprised when he finds himself infatuated with you. What can he say? Changbin is a confident man, and he knows what he likes. And it just so happens that you are exactly his type.

He’s a bashful admirer, your Binnie.

So when he invites you to go swimming with him and the other members on a day off, don’t be surprised when you catch Changbin gazing at some of your newer tattoos with a blush on your face. Perhaps forgetting to pack a spare shirt for the pool wasn’t the worse mistake you’ve ever made. As for the man himself, he’s going to want to hear all about his crush’s new body art. Quite delectable body art, if I might add~

Hwang Hyunjin | 황현진

Frankly, it’s a miracle that you even met Hyun at the gym to begin with, that man avoids the place as often as he can. And can you blame him? He lives with 3Racha after all, that’s enough gymbro energy for him. But yes, you end up meeting Hyunjin at the gym, while you’re doing some light weights and he catches sight of your partial sleeve and the top of your chest tattoo through your vest. During a conversation while you’re spotting him and he finds out you’re his hyung, it’s settled.

New muse acquired.

For days afterwards, Hyunjin’s sketchbooks and canvases are full of tattoos, imagery and artistic rendition of you all from all your consequential outings together after your initial meeting.

And like the hopeless romantic that Hyunjin is, it takes him little time to fall for his newest muse. His art becomes more and more romantic (if possible) and there’s more reservation on his end because Hyunjin now wants anything he makes for you to be absolutely perfect. It’s for you, of course. His y/n hyung.

When you invite him swimming over the summer, Hyunjin quite positively loses his mind over some of the newer tattoos he sees across your chest and abdomen while you’re looking for the shirt you packed. Ever the tits man that he is, Hyunjin can’t help but give your newly tatted pecs a loving squeeze – with your permission of course. I give this man around five days before he confesses his feelings lol.

Han Jisung | 한지성

Between you and me, I would be a dirty liar if I didn’t think Jisung was immediately infatuated with the ‘buff tattoo guy’ at the gym (as he so excitedly tells Chan) the first time he spots you after you finish a set and reach for your water bottle. A cute smile, sick tattoo sleeves (his words) and an impressive set? Social anxiety be damned, Jisung makes it his mission to get closer to you, which he does, to his credit. Soon, he’s calling you ‘tattoo hyung’ as a joke and he has some eye candy to forward to when he joins you at the gym.

And by all means, the buff chipmunk is adorable, so you indulge him when he jokingly presses his face between your pecs. They’re comfy, sue him.

Until it’s starting to get obvious that there are developing feelings between the pair of you.

So, without telling Sung outright you fill out your tattoo sleeves just that little bit more, get some art done on your abdomen that may or may not be inspired by the rapper himself. Taking his invite to go swimming with him and some of the other members, you show off the new body art to a very infatuated Han Jisung.

You may be going home with a boyfriend, that’s all I’m saying.

Lee Felix | 이용복

Meeting Felix feels like it was fate, in my honest opinion; you were working on your arms, and Lix was getting his rehabilitation exercise done. As luck would have it, he asked you to spot him, the two of you start talking and you left that gym session with a new friend and Felix’s number. And soon enough, your phone is buzzing every other hour with a text from Mr Buff Sunshine about everything from how his day went, to workout advice, to spamming you with memes.

It's cute, and 100% part of the reason you consider getting some sun-inspired tattoos across your chest. Perhaps even a few quotes you’d seen his fans talk about on twitter.

Felix decides to have some fun with you when you and Felix make plans to head swimming, because your ‘swimming top’ as it were, is now nowhere to be found. Go figure.

“Hey Felix?” What seems like an innocent move on your part – asking for a t-shirt – clearly is lost on the Australian in question. There are new tattoos on your abdomen. Rather fucking hot ones, in his humble opinion; and Lix’s face is burning red.

Lord above, could you be any more attractive? You do eventually get one of Felix’s shirts, that suspiciously look like the one you were missing, but between you and me…Felix is more than happy to have you shirtless.

Kim Seungmin | 김승민

I’m genuinely more impressed by the notion that you met Seungmin at the gym of all places. Granted, it was by the treadmill, and he was pacing himself at a brisk jog, but my point still stands. Talking to you becomes his new ‘kill time’ card, and it doesn’t take many of these particularly amusing gym sessions for numbers to be exchanged and for Seungmin to start asking about your numerous tattoos. He saves you in his phone as ‘y/n – cool tattoos~’, deeming you the newest subject of teasing and some awfully aesthetic food pictures. Courtesy of Minho’s cooking, of course.

And while your friendship blossoms, and you begin taking tattoo ideas from Seungmin, something warm and fuzzy starts making its way into Seungmin’s heart. He doesn’t hate it.

But he would rather be caught stark naked than admit he has a crush on you. So his fondness is translated through more frequent texts, more emojis and asking more and more about your day.

And inviting you swimming, of course.

Thanks to your own genius, you had left your spare swimming shirt at home and resorted to asking around for a spare shirt you could borrow. Giving Seungmin the perfect view of your newest tattoos. On your sculpted abdomen.

I think you’ve broken him.

Yang Jeongin | 양정인

You should thank who or whatever possessed Jeongin to actually start going back to the gym, because you stumble into him on your way out from the changing room. Don’t get him wrong, he was a little intimated at first; you’re hot, have some impressive body art, and you’re muscular? Cut him a little slack here.

He does see you again, however Innie picks up the courage to talk to you, and it turns out the two of you have quite a lot in common. Perfect! Instead of spending his whole time of his time with his headphones on, Jeongin spends his break between sets talking to you, his dimples on full display the entire time.

You have now gained the title of cool hyung. Congratulations.

His fascination with your tattoos bleeds into something more romantic, and Jeongin finds himself itching for the days to speed up so the swimming outing you two have planned comes by faster. At least he gets to fill his time by hanging out with you in your tattoo studio.

Praise to everything holy – and Jeongin’s patience – the day of the swimming outing finally arrives, and Jeongin is buzzing with excitement. The weather is great, the venue you’re going to has good food places nearby – it’s perfect.

“Jeongin-ah, have you seen my swim-shirt?” Well, perfect if you ignore the fact you forgot your swimming shirt. Which leaves your new chest tattoo on full display for Jeongin to marvel at while he helps you go in search of a t-shirt to buy.

Yes you saw him blushing. No you aren’t going to bring it up unless Innie says anything himself.

You hope he does though.

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starlighthan · 1 year

Text

SHOWSTOPPER — PART ONE.

pairings: non-idol!minho and gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff, angst, enemies/academic rivals to lovers, fake dating au, university au

warnings: a kiss without consent, curse words, physical harassment, mentions of murder and violence, and minho being confusing ! :’D

word count: 11k words (WOW that’s a lot, and that’s just the first part help)

synopsis: minho really wanted to get his ex back by fake dating you, but why were you an obstacle in this plan of his?

tag list: @awooghan @hwangsify @cosmic-railwayxo

song inspos: 121u - day6, valentine - 5 seconds of summer, everything has changed - taylor swift & ed sheeran, best song - young k

note: i have returned... with a long cliché and cheesy fic, for the first time!!! this is an entry for @hiraya-m’s movie night! this fic is inspired by the movie, she’s dating the gangster, so expect a lot of parts similar to some scenes in the film! this has a ton of time skips (which i think are somehow essential for the fic lol), and this is my first time writing a long fic, so this could be fast-paced or something :’D bear with me in this fic pls i’m not sure if some of you all are fine with cliché content, i really tried to mirror the vibe of the movie at some point! i was thinking of posting this after the WHOLE fic is done but the 11k’s been sitting here for 6+ months (which is why the writing’s kinda shit plz), so here you go!

Lately, everything felt so unreal. And what did you do for the whole day? Pretend that the relationship you got yourself was nothing.

It’s working.

You feel the quick rush of the wind on your face. “Were you not kidding when you texted me? Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Dahyun ran to you to bombard you with questions about a piece of particular news you just shared with her. You let the word spread before telling your friends about it after they heard such an unexpected update about you.

“Keep it quiet. I’ll tell you all about it if you keep your voice down,” you quickly covered the mouth of the girl in front of you. After that rough move, you dragged her to the seat beside you and fixed her messy hair.

“There you go,” you tried to smile. Dahyun looks… not that bad. “Alright, I’m not! We’re just doing this for his ex. And it’s been just a few days, Dahyun! I don’t want everybody to know right away.”

Dahyun snorted, moving her head away from you. Her assumptions were correct. There was no way that you’d date Lee Minho. You’re “out of his league”, and you two are secretly enemies.

Not only does he tease you every second, but almost every class is also a competition. You’ll never forget how he was petty over the fact that he got a perfect score in the machine project first just because he scheduled his demo earlier than you. You could’ve rejoiced since the two of you were the only ones who got a perfect score in your class, but no. Minho decided to use his bragging rights because of that demo appointment unnecessarily. You were too nervous to demo right after the deadline; that was it!

When you stepped into the computer lab earlier this morning, you immediately heard your classmates close to Minho talking about your relationship. They’re right, though. Who would date a new person just a few days after he and his ex broke up? You’re right. It’s Minho—he gave out that kind of vibe.

Sighing and shaking your head, you cross your arms. “You need time to process and laugh over that, Kim? He’s an annoying ass. Who would fall for him?” You know that anybody would. That dude’s not only smart but also attractive: a consistent dean’s lister, a volleyball varsity player, and a nice guy. You’re the only person he’s not friendly to.

“Anybody would. Minho is a pretty cool guy,” someone joined in your conversation. That was the only answer, as expected.

Chaeyoung gets a chair from your other side and places it in front of you and Dahyun. “I heard it, by the way, _____. Dahyun told me. Minho choosing you just to get his ex back totally makes sense. You hate him, and he hates you. Hell, even his ex hates you! That woman would take him back in a flash if she sees you with him.”

You recall the last encounter you had before confirming the relationship. You snort, “The funny thing is that that was not how he approached me and told me his problem.”

“Both of you avoid each other like the plague. Yeah, Minho would never ask you to fake date him all of a sudden—” Dahyun cut her off by hitting her arm. Chaeyoung groans, holding her arm tight. “Just tell us!”

I’m really sorry.

Is this the person who accidentally bumped you yesterday? You had to go home with a coffee stain on your white shirt. It might be him because you have no idea who he was, and you’re sure you don’t have his number.

I still love you.

“You just received a message, right? Why is that person flooding you right when you’re in class?” Yeji moves her seat closer to you, peeking at the phone in your hands. “You gotta hurry, though. You know our professor wants some peace in group activities.”

I miss you so much.

Who even is this?

In case you lost my number, it’s 09*********.

“_____, do you mind turning your phone off, even just for an hour?”

I know that you’re really happy with him, but I want to see you.

Shit, your professor’s glaring at you. Yeji takes your phone and does the work. “Just power off!”

Unconsciously scratching your head, you apologize, “I’m so sorry, Ma’am. That was a lot of spam messages.”

“Learn how to mute your phone next time.” You nodded right away and said yes. Oh, you’re so done. You’re the teacher’s pet in this class; you might’ve lost it because of these messages.

What’s weird is that it goes on even the next few days after. You still receive messages. While in the canteen, you lightly monitor the phone in front of you as you work on assignments. The truth is, you’re looking after every message and call made by this person. Even if you muted this number, you wonder if they will stop soon.

“I don’t understand that. What the hell is that?”

“That’s called math, you dumbass!”

“Sorry! I’m not in a computer-related degree like _____!”

“So am I, Chaeyoung!”

Grunting, you go back to flipping the notes in your notebook. You are already not in the mood to look at the messages and calls from your phone right now. The deadline for this assignment is less than an hour, and you’re unfortunately procrastinating.

The phone rings loudly, mixing with the noise made by your surroundings. The stoves from every stall sizzle very loud, the laughs students can’t hold in, and utensils and plates are clacking here and there. It was too overwhelming until you just wanted to get out of here. But you have got to eat, you still have two more classes later, and you’ll have no time to eat.

As your phone's ringing ends, it returns just a minute later. This cycle has repeatedly happened for the past twenty minutes, and you don’t give a damn about it now.

You quickly look at the surrounding people. The table at the center of the room was Minho and his friends. Felix and Chan are members of the volleyball varsity. From what you know, they’re the only close friends Minho has in computer science. His other friends, like Seungmin, Changbin, and Jisung, are taking different degrees, and you are coincidentally friends with them too. That’s all because of Yeji.

Minho, Chan, and Felix are the popular ones. Being a varsity team member equals a big following from the student population. The yearly championships are like a tradition; everybody attends that every year. So, as expected, they’ll sincerely support their alma mater’s team.

You admit that they’re very skilled players. Minho’s the best at serving, Felix can receive the ball right away with his speed, and Chan can block so well because of how high he can jump. In conclusion, the team’s weak without them.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked at your side immediately. “Are you aware that you’ve been staring at Minho and his friends? And Minho’s looking back at you? With a phone in his hand?”

Widening your eyes, you pretend to be working on your assignment again. Hopefully, none of them will bother you. More like you hope Minho will not bother you. Chan and Felix are not menacing, like Minho.

You’re getting out of here. You ate your meal anyway, and all you have left is your assignment. Just go to the library as if nothing happened, and you can avoid Lee Minho for the rest of the day.

Packing up your things, you tell your friends that you’re leaving. “What? _____, don’t leave us here!”

“Dahyun, I feel embarrassed. I don’t want him to come here and make fun of me. He’s going to be egoistic all over again. I’ll just go to the library so nobody can ruin my day.”

As you quickly get out of the canteen and walk down the hallways, you feel a pull on your arm. “What are you doing—”

“Are you seriously playing with me right now?

Minho gets to scroll down your call history and all the messages he sent. Breathing loudly through his nose and clenching his teeth, he asks you another question, cornering you between the lockers and the wall. “Are you playing with me right now so I could look stupid?”

Unable to form a coherent answer, you try to speak whatever you can say, which is nothing. “Uh, well, you know, I really—”

His soft lips cut you off, leaving you widening your eyes for the nth time today.

“He kissed you?”

“Don’t tell me that’s real.”

You thrash around in your seat. “Let me continue!”

Still confused over the sudden turn of events, all you did was move your arms around in your place. Unfortunately, you can’t even take a step or stand tall because Minho still caged you in his arms.

His head moves to ask you near your ear, “Where is she?”

You don’t answer his question and push him off. The more you pushed him, the more he kept you in his arms. You do not know how weird this feels. He does not have any idea what personal space is. You try to complain louder; all he does is cover your mouth. You want to scream at his face, but you end up sounding muffled to him.

“Answer me, _____. And I’ll let you go,” he slowly moves his hand from your mouth.

“Do you mind telling me who’s that she first?”

Rolling his eyes, he finally steps away from you just a little. “My ex, Ara, of course. Who else would I mention?”

“I don’t know, a classmate or something? But yeah, Ara passed by earlier. She’s gone now.”

Heaven finally hearing your prayers, Minho lets go of you and steps away. You clear your throat. “Thank you. It was suffocating there in the corner.”

You thought he was going to leave you there already. You thought you could go to the library in peace after encountering the worst situation in mind. The worst of the worst came to you at this moment.

“From now on, we’re in a relationship—”

You step forward and raise your hand. “Who says we can be in a relationship?”

Minho tilts his head and smiles. “Why don’t you let me finish first before you react? We will do this to make Ara jealous and get her back. We’ll just pretend.”

This teasing asshole strikes again. You shake your head. “Why me? You could’ve picked someone better.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re the perfect fit. Remember this?” He shows you your phone in his hands. “You played me. Getting into this fake relationship is your way of paying me back.”

Minho hands you back your phone in your hands. Before leaving, he greets you with his classic smirk, making your blood boil. “See you around, love!”

“Chaeyoung, please tell me that _____ is hallucinating.”

Groaning, you shook her shoulders. “It’s real, Dahyun! He even introduced himself to my family earlier this morning already.”

Chaeyoung snickers. “This whole fake relationship sounds like torture.”

Your relationship barely started, and it’s not what you wanted. Even if some part of you liked this so you could see annoying Ara’s face, you know there will be regrets in involving yourself. Not only were students gossiping about you, but Minho’s friends also started teasing you. Felix is a sweetheart, but he had the guts to bug you about your relationship in your last class. Before you left the canteen alone, you found Jisung and Changbin asking you how your fling with Minho was, and you just pushed them away. You wanted none of this.

You take a bite of your sandwich. “Yeah, it is. I hope I get to see Ara pissed off at me so she can take Minho back, and I’ll be over with this deal.”

“Praying that Minho doesn’t treat you like shit, as usual. Maybe a teeny-tiny nicer than he normally is with you,” Dahyun steals the sandwich in your hands and takes a bite. “He is your boyfriend, after all. He must treat you well.”

“You have a distorted view of a couple. This relationship is not a one-sided thing. I, unfortunately, have to be friendly with Minho too, which is irritating.” You get your sandwich back, take a bite, and return it to Dahyun. “It’s all yours.”

You’ll have your next class in less than 30 minutes. Coming to class last minute is stressful sometimes, considering that you’ll do not know how long you can arrive at your classroom. There will be a crowd of students in the halls, especially when classes start again, like what will happen later.

“I’ll go now. The building’s two blocks from here,” you grab your bag and recheck your two friends. “I’ll be fine with him, don’t worry! Don’t give me those sad faces!” You pat both of their heads and push back your chair to the table. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to that.”

Walking past many people in the hallways, you felt more space around you as… Minho’s friends surrounded you? Your first few days with him were not like this.

“What are you guys doing here? Aren’t some of you supposed to be in the other building?” You looked around, seeing all of them walking near you.

Chan was the first to speak. “Honestly, we have no place to speak about this, _____.”

The one and only Lee Minho greeted you, who walked quickly to your side. “From now on, you’re not going to class alone.”

Not sure if he was joking, but you spoke your mind. “I can do this on my own, and I don’t need you guys joining me here.”

Before you argue more about it, Minho hands you a t-shirt. “Wear this.”

You look at your outfit for the day. “Does this shirt look that bad to you?”

Minho doesn’t answer your question, so you bombard him with more questions to get him on his nerves and say something. “Don’t I look nice? Isn’t this decent enough for me to stand beside you? Does this not fit your standards?”

Minho presses his lips and asks. “Do you want me to put that shirt on you?”

His friends around you stopped and let out some oohs. You sighed. You knew this was a bad idea.

“Change,” Minho moves his head toward the comfort room, “I’ll be waiting.”

You came out with a t-shirt with a large heart in the center. It has additional details like stitches, making the heart look like it was sewn. This shirt, in particular, is not your style, but this would suffice. “Do I look better now?”

Minho takes off his sweater and reveals a matching shirt. Oh, so that’s what he’s aiming for today. Couple t-shirts, cute, I guess? Impressed enough, you smiled at him. He smiles and gives you his hand, silently asking you to hold it with yours.

Walking around, hands tied still, with his friends, you saw Ara and her friend walking towards you. Now, this made more sense. The couple t-shirts were your first stunt to make Ara jealous.

“Didn’t work, Minho. It looks like Ara’s not affected by it,” you hear Seungmin behind you.

“That’s fine. It’s still the first,” Minho stops, leaving the rest of the group to stop. “I’ll leave it here. I’ll take them somewhere. You guys can do your own thing now.”

“Good luck, bro,” Jisung says, offering Minho a fistbump. He looks at you and whispers, “You can do it. He’s tolerable enough without us too.”

“I heard that!” Minho attempts to pinch Jisung. Hearing a loud screech from Jisung, you step away from the small scene. Jisung was pulled by Changbin, dragging him away from both of you.

Once Jisung is out of the picture, Minho faces you. He doesn’t have any idea where to take you since he only thought of the couple t-shirts to show it off to his ex. A part of him feels bad about dragging you into this short stunt.

“I know where to take you.”

In the sports building, obviously. You both bought some taho on the way, though. More like, Minho paid for both of your taho, which was surprising.

“You know how to play table tennis?” He asks as he drags you to a room.

“Nope, I hope you wouldn’t judge,” you tell him, trying to grip the paddle properly.

Minho was going to comment about it, but he stopped himself right away and understood you. “All good. That’s fine with me. I can teach you.”

It felt like your eyes were sparkling out of wonder. You immediately look at Minho and ask, “Really? You’re willing to?”

He genuinely smiles at you and answers, “Yeah, I’m willing. No worries, I think you’ll get the hang of this right away.”

“Which is easier, table tennis or volleyball?” You hand him the paddle in your hand. “You’re pretty good with anything at this point.”

Minho felt his body tense on the spot. That was the first time you said something nice to him. He’s used to bickering with you. Were you serious about this too? It seemed like you were being nice to him for real this time.

He knows you’re a good person. This whole enemy and competitor thing happened between you, resulting in you excluding him from your people-to-be-nice-with list. He has seen you with other people, and you’re usually like how you behaved just a while ago.

He’s glad enough that you could let your guard down around him for once. Maybe he’ll treasure this even if it was too early. He knows you’ll be back to arguing soon.

“Uh, it depends, really. I’m more used to volleyball, though. I just play table tennis for fun since I hang around here in the sports building quite a lot,” he awkwardly gets the paddle from your hand. With a scratch on his head, he reminds himself of his manners. “Thanks, though. I’m not an expert at everything. I just like trying out new things.”

“We must be the same, then!” You hold the ball, playing it with your hand. “You know, I grew up people saying I’m smart at everything,” you look at him.

Minho agrees. He notices that you’re brilliant about a lot of things. You’re a dean’s lister like him. Sometimes, he thinks you’re one of the best out there. He just doesn’t confess about that. “You in computer science say a lot about that. You’re intelligent.”

You laugh, memories flooding back in your head when you hear Minho mention your degree. “Did you know how stupid I felt when I failed my first programming course? Maybe I blame my professor for that. But when I discovered I got a failing grade, I asked myself for days if computer science was for me.”

Snorting, you shake your head. “As expected, I had to take it the next semester, and there we go! I did very well! I passed, and I enjoyed programming. And yeah, I got the same score as you on our machine project in discrete mathematics.” You hand him the ball. You felt a little better that you brought that out now. Your friends never understood how hard it was for you since they’re not in the same degree as you.

“I realized I’ll do great if I have to work my ass off twice as much as I usually do. It sucks, but it’s fulfilling to know that I’m doing fine.” You look at Minho. “I’m still surprised that I’m still a part of the dean’s list. The last time I heard, I almost slipped off the list.”

“I’m not good at consoling, _____, but I know you’re doing great, whether you fail, pass, or get on the list.” You hear Minho mutter your name, “I know it was hard for you. You said all of it. But I hope you don’t use it to bring yourself down.”

Minho gently places the paddle on the table and gets the ball from your palm. He faces you, leaning on his side on the table. “You’re outstanding. Don’t think that you’re not that good compared to me. I also went through a lot to get into that volleyball team. All of us really have to deal with rough shit before getting up there.”

You chuckle. “You’re right, sorry. I made it sound like it’s all about me—”

“No worries, I totally get you anyway,” he pats your back and smirks. “I know it feels nice to dump your problems sometimes.”

Gasping, you lightly push him. You get to hear his laugh. “I did not intend to dump all of it, Lee! I said I’m sorry already!”

You see Minho change his behavior, returning to his usual, insufferable self. He blinks multiple times, fixes his shirt, gets the paddle again, and playfully waves it on your face. “Shall we?”

You nod. Minho nods back and walks to your back. He gets your hand from behind and helps you grip the paddle properly. “You can hold the paddle like that. Don’t hold it like you’re going to murder somebody.”

“Does it look like I can murder you with this paddle, Minho?” You look at him, raising your eyebrows.

He grips your hand tightly, making you groan. “Yes, I know you can, which is why I’m teaching you the right way how to hold it.”

Minho’s aware of the presence of Ara in the room. It was why his demeanor changed right away. “She’s there again, by the way. Let’s look decent for a bit.”

“Yes, sir, on it.” You look at your hand with the paddle. It feels weird because it’s your first time playing this sport. Minho lets go of you confusingly and walks away.

Minho returns to your side with the other paddle and a ball. As Minho explains how to serve the ball, you focus on Ara. You hope that she’ll see this whole thing.

“Are you even listening?”

You look back at him, his face filled with annoyance, “Yes—well, no. Ara saw us!” You see Ara and her friends leaving suddenly, “And now, she’s gone. Why is she leaving right away every time we're together?”

He sighs. “She might’ve seen how dramatic you are every time you’re with me. It’s great.”

Before you get to defend yourself, you see Minho leaving you as well. “Dang, Minho’s right. It must be a me problem.” You get your things and chase Minho. “Don’t leave me, Lee! What the hell? You brought me here, and you’re just going to get out of here on your own?”

You tried to find Minho, but he’s really gone. Slowly walking through the tiny sidewalk, you attempt to see if Minho’s still nearby. And as expected, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Mindlessly walking, you plug in your earphones and listen to music on your way home. The music was a great way to make your life less boring. Your life has been full of adventures; the music made it more entertaining. Who knew getting a fake boyfriend was a part of your story, anyway? It could’ve been more. You get to enjoy your non-curricular activities, like being in organizations. Unfortunately, you temporarily abandoned your book club for this relationship. You could’ve recommended books to first-year students! You could’ve exchanged books with your friends and read them overnight!

You move the papers and folders under your arm to check the time on your phone, 7:05 PM. Great, you’ll have less time to review for your exams later. You could’ve gotten a tricycle ride to get home quicker, but the terminal’s a few minutes from where you are. Groaning, you carelessly walk and grumble over your cravings for pancit canton—the chilimansi one, to be specific.

The louder you talked to yourself about how desperate you were to get home and get things done, the more people behind you knew what to do.

You shrieked at the sudden noise coming from your back. Everything was so fast; you didn’t know a bunch of those mean and nasty students honked their car and almost ran it over you intentionally, dropping all of your things out of shock.

Several kids shouted from the car, “Sorry!” And all of them laughed. If only they were out of the vehicle, you could’ve charged them and punched all of their faces. That would be no regret, even if you were never the type to fight people. They deserve it for being assholes.

Bending down, you try to chase for the papers, lightly flying above the road. They almost crashed a human being and drove recklessly. Why are there no police officers here?

“Didn’t those people skip GMRC or homeroom classes when they were young?”

You have no idea who that was, but you agree. That must be a stranger passing by, not caring about what happened to you. “Yeah, they probably skipped. Not surprised, though. There’ll always be people like them.”

You heard some sounds nearby while picking up all of your notes. Unexpectedly, you see a person getting your papers on the sidewalk across from you. Was this guy the one who just talked to you?

“You’re right. But that doesn’t mean you’ll let them roam around like that. Here you go.” The person hands you the rest of the papers you couldn’t catch earlier. After thanking him. He introduces himself to you, “I’m Hyunjin.”

You have never heard his name yet. You’re acquainted with many students because of connections, but you probably haven’t met this one. It’s not wrong to meet a new person. Meeting a new friend after an unexpected accident like this was funny enough to think that you must be friends with Hyunjin. “Hey, Hyunjin. I’m _____. Nice to meet you in this way,” you chuckled.

He’s a transferee, perhaps?

He grins, “Oh, no worries. I have nothing to do, and I’m also on my way home, anyway. Is your place nearby?”

When Hyunjin saw your mouth fall open and rock your feet in place, he knew you still had a long way to go. “Want to grab some dinner first? Let’s eat pares, my treat.”

None of you know that those students who sped past you were watching nearby. Unfortunately, they have a plan against you.

Are you really up for volleyball class this early? No.

This sport shouldn’t sound complicated since you’ve played this before in high school. Frankly, you’re not the worst player out there. You could be very useful for an actual volleyball team, according to several varsity team members who were your classmates.

Have you told your boyfriend who excels in this specific sport? No.

You’re nothing compared to him in volleyball, you just know. If you mention this to him, he might ask you to play with him on the spot, and you know it’ll end up in the loser treating the winner. That’s how he competes with his teammates in training, according to Felix. You don’t want to go home physically exhausted and suffering financially.

Well, you’re a little rusty in volleyball since it has been years since you properly played this. So, you might need extra warm-ups and practices for this friend.

Setting the ball for a few rounds now, you wouldn’t say you’re that bad for starters. You’re underestimating yourself. This progress is pretty good for someone who’s a newbie or needs a refresher. Okay, maybe, you can brag about this to Minho a little bit.

It was fun and all, until someone threw the ball in a different direction—directly on your head. Why is existing more challenging now when you got Minho with you? Peace is non-existent in your fate.

“How ambitious of you!”

Automatically falling into a face of confusion, your search for the voice leads to a familiar face—that girl in the car a few nights ago.

Let’s be honest. Self-defense is your biggest weakness. You never taught yourself to fight for yourself in situations as immediately intense as this, since you always want no harm. If this was a verbal argument, maybe you still had the guts to fight back. But this involves physical damage.

Before you get to fend for yourself, the girl and the rest of the group throw all the volleyballs at you, leaving you a pained mess on the floor. This is you against a group. You immediately knew you’d lose in this battle. Not only were you thrown with actual objects, but they also threw unnecessary words at you.

“You’re such a gold digger!”

“You’re from nowhere! How did you get them?”

“Two-timer, are we getting a little flirty?”

When you knew this was about Minho and Hyunjin (who should be innocent in this case), you had to get out of here. You’re assuming their next move will harass you with their own hands based on how they move. Groaning, you get up and grab your bags from the bleachers.

One of them shouts, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You look behind and see the girl chase you until you leave the building. She stops before heading back inside. “Wake up, _____! You and Minho are not compatible!”

Same place, same people. The same road where nothing was by your side. The same street where you were so helpless. All you wanted was the life you had a week ago. How did you get into this torturous cycle of people getting jealous of bagging one of the biggest stars of the university?

That was pure evil. Why are they this mean towards you? Maybe all you want is to go back to your dorm, sulk and cry with some ice cream. Hopefully, the world will be better one tear at a time.

Another honking sound surprised you, reminding you of last night's turn of events. Irritated by the sound, you asked nobody and continued walking, “Why do drivers like to surprise people with that?”

The car behind you stops. “And that’s because I’m here to really surprise you with—wait, _____, are you crying?”

Minho gets out of the car and chases you to greet you with a hug. “What happened?”

Melting into his embrace, you hummed on his chest, sobbing more than before. This is officially your first time breaking down in front of him, and it’s all because of him. “Nothing really. Can you just take me to my dorm and—”

Minho smoothly rubs your back, “Don’t hide it from me. I know this is all pretend, but don’t be afraid to share it with me if you like. I’m all ears, _____.”

That might’ve made you cry even more. Why is he so nice again? You know he’ll switch back to his usual self later on. Are you falling for this trap? Are you sure he is genuinely willing to listen to your rant about jealous students? Will that be a sensible conversation with him?

“It will sound so petty, Minho. This is nothing I’m telling you—”

He gently holds your head, ensuring you keep eye contact with him. “_____, let’s be serious here. Is it petty if you’re a crying mess like this?”

Shaking your head, you mumble no multiple times, bringing you back to tears. Minho brings you back to his arms, crossing them around you in the right fit, not too tight and not too loose. His scent was so comforting—lavender and baby powder. He smelled so pure and clean. “Do you still want to return to your dorm?” He asked you softly, hearing a small yes as an answer.

What are you doing to him? Barely two weeks into this fake relationship, and he’s willing enough to soften his heart already. He will stick with you, making sure that you did the stunts, and you got to treat each other as actual significant others. But wasn’t he like this with Ara, too? Didn’t he open up to her right away? Maybe he’ll just see what’s going to happen next. Give you both a few more weeks before facing the growing tingling feeling on his chest. You’re not that bad after all; indeed, you’re better than you seem. He’s up with making you his actual friend. He’s aware that he’s guarding his heart sometimes, knowing he grows attachments immediately. Maybe after a few more stunts, he’ll get Ara back and get to know you more.

Minho reaches for your hand on the side, pulling you to the car. “I should’ve stayed by your side on our last visit to the sports building. I’m really sorry.”

He didn’t break his promise of staying by your side until that night. Maybe it was because of the feeling that he couldn’t do the stunt with you properly, or he wasn’t in the right mind. When he left you in the sports building, he thought you were behind him all this time until when he got into his car. He even tried to find you in the building, going through the floor by floor, until you messaged you were back in your dorm already, stomach full. Out of pure concern, he was relieved that you were safe. He knows that both his and your parents will kill him if he loses you.

And now, he arrived slightly late. He could’ve prevented the still-unknown problem that left you gripping his shirt tightly and sobbing heavily on his shoulder. Better late than never, he thought. He knows how to deal with this. He lost Ara somewhere when they were together. Ara’s phone was dead, and Minho searched for her from night until the day. In the end, he got scolded by Ara’s father in front of their house. He doesn’t want that to happen to anybody again, and he hated he left someone—you—after that.

“It’s fine, Minho. You don’t have to apologize. I should have protected myself,” you told him, getting into the passenger seat of his car and buckling your seatbelt.

After Minho got into the car again and started the engine, he curiously asked, “What happened there? Who are they to make you cry a river like that?”

“Why did you cry?” Minho glances at you, steering the car. “I just want to know so I can help you somehow. I don’t want to see your puffy face cry that much.”

Sighing, you lean back in your seat. Do you really have to tell Minho now? You’d rather keep this one. You don’t want him teasing you all over again. “You have to ask me right now?”

“Yeah, well, if it’s fine with you,” he eyes the car's rear mirror, “because if you’re not ready to tell me, I can wait.”

You thank the heavens that he has patience within him. Maybe you can do it once you’re back in your dorm? Saying it here and now might be a little overwhelming, for you are still recovering from whatever happened earlier. If you recall all of it, you might burst into tears just to explain it to Minho for the nth time.

When you arrive at your building, you bring Minho to your dorm room when you come to your building. No one’s in your place. Yeji probably hung out with some of her friends today. “Home, sweet home, I guess?”

On the left, a kitchen countertop matches the color of the walls, white. The bathroom’s already on the right, with a door open, displaying the simple sink and mirror. And further back to the dorm are your beds and study spaces. The room isn’t that cramped for everything you need, luckily. Your beds were on one side, and your tables and shelves were across them.

The first thing you did after closing the door was drop your lumpiang togue on your table. Minho was compassionate enough once again to treat you to some food.

He scans the whole market for anything you can eat quickly. Glancing at you, he asks, “You like lumpiang togue?”

Did he just read your mind? How did he know your love for lumpiang togue?

“Yeah, I like them,” you softly answer, fiddling the sleeves of your white t-shirt, which you wore earlier this morning for volleyball class. You haven’t changed your attire, also still wearing your rubber shoes and navy jogging pants.

Minho sighs. “Great, that’s what I can afford for now. I left the rest of my money in my place.” He finds some bills in his pockets. He was planning to take you to his dorm since Seungmin visited his family. But the whole you-crying-on-the-streets happened, so he had a change of plan, making you feel better. Seriously, it’s not his strength, but he’s willing to try.

You hold his wrist, stopping him from reaching for any money, “I can pay. I have some money with me.” Minho stiffens, and you try to get your wallet from your backpack, mumbling, “You probably brought anything barely to buy here. I’ll just take it from here.”

He was persistent in treating you today. He had to do it. He wanted to do it. Shaking his head, he’s now the one who’ll reach for your wrist. “No, _____. I’ll pay. You can keep your money.”

Looking at his face, you feel hesitant to let this slide. You think it’s because of the lack of money in his pockets, and he’s really trying hard to be the perfect (fake) boyfriend he is. But the problem is that you only hear some clinking sound from his pockets, implying that he probably has mostly coins. And he might just fight you back if you don’t surrender. Maybe he’s really striving to treat you again.

You clear your throat. “Yeah, sure, go on. If you really want to, then. I’ll just do it the next time we eat outside.”

Perhaps Minho only heard the last few words. I’ll just do it the next time we eat outside. Are you implying that you guys will go out again for food? With this setup you have, Minho was not sure if there’ll be a next time for everything. It’s unclear to assume how long you will continue this. Even if it has been a week, Ara could take him back tomorrow or the other day.

This could be the last time you can eat together. Why did he feel a little heartbroken over this thought? Is it because he got to see more of your softer side? Is it because of this little friendship you were progressively growing that is still as small as a seed? Maybe he wasn’t ready to go back to the usual bickering both of you do. He genuinely enjoyed your fun and calmer side. In the first few days, you got to go around the campus hand in hand. It was initially awkward. Both of your hands were sweating. But he enjoyed your presence, regardless. You got to treat each other decently in classes, picking each other immediately as partners in some projects. Why is he overthinking about you too many times now? He’ll miss this. It’s been a week, and he might’ve not regretted picking you. It could’ve been worse if he had got someone senselessly crazy over him.

On your side, though, you’re taking this whole fake relationship lightly. Yes, you got to see an angelic Minho with a halo on his head rather than those red horns. You’ve seen his side of being intelligent and humble. From your time together working on some papers, you’ve seen how hardworking he is. Well, he is hardworking, but his tremendous pride overshadows it. Working with him wasn’t so bad. If you ever get to pick a partner after this fake relationship, you might genuinely pick him over some of your friends. You appreciated his taste on the first few dates you had. He wasn’t the fancy type, even if he looked like a person who thought highly of himself. Your time in the park wasn’t so bad. You enjoyed the messy conversation with some ice cream. You also enjoyed your time in the mall. He was the type to window shop than splurge. You were going to tease him about being broke, but he was letting his guard down for a few minutes, so you appreciated the small moment of peace between the two of you.

Nodding, he steps forward to buy on the stall in front of you.

Leaning your back on the table beside him, you ask, “Have anything to say about my place?” Deep inside, you know he will lightly tease you about your dorm. It’s been looking too dull, considering the only prominent color: white. You could visit some of your friend’s places, and their homes and rooms were full of color. You got to see Dahyun’s place, and her room’s walls painted a beautiful shade of sky blue. Chaeyoung’s dorm has an incredible combination of brown and black, giving her space a vintage vibe that suits her style. Some of your other classmates’ rooms had rooms in bright colors like pink, violet, or dandelion, which you admit are very pleasing colors. “Does it look too boring? I was trying to convince Yeji to change this whole place again. White’s not clicking with me anymore.”

Minho looked around once again. He displays an unreadable expression, which makes you feel uncertain. “I guess it is boring. I knew it.” Minho waves his hands. “No! I actually like it. It feels very peaceful,” he sighs. “I think it shows a lot about who you are.”

“So you’re telling me I’m boring?”

Groaning, he explains to you once again. “It’s a nice color for a dorm. It’s not boring. You’re very pure and sincere, like the color white. Even if we spat the most unnecessary words at each other, you’re pretty honest and genuine in what you say. I don’t mean this badly, but you’re sensitive. Sensitive in a way that you easily pull yourself into emotions, you feel quite a lot, from what I noticed. You’re not that numb, and I like it. White’s not that blank in my own eyes.”

That was… wonderful. Minho got a point once again. He’s not like you, who quickly rambles a lot. He makes sure he says everything with his actual intentions straightforwardly. You liked how he mentioned your bickering; it made you laugh for the first time in a while. It was nice to hear that from Minho for another time. “Thanks, maybe the color’s not so bad after all. I appreciate the words.”

“You’re getting shy, aren’t you?” You pulled out your handkerchief from your pocket and tossed it to his face. “Shut up! I don’t get those kinds of words a lot. Being sensitive is a bad thing for some, but I appreciate how you made it sound nice—something in your voice that told me in my head that it’s alright to feel things with so much impact,” you grin, “so, don’t be surprised that I’ll cry over something again in the next few days. We still have the articulation paper! We should get it done! I’ll cry for real if we procrastinate it!”

Minho laughs. “Want to start it tomorrow? After my training in the morning?” It took you a few seconds to answer him because… he laughed! That was a very genuine laugh, and it sounded so lovely. It suits him so much. If only you heard that every day, that’d be better than the fuss both of you make every time. When he scratches his head nervously, you answer, “I’m not that busy for the next few days, so I’m up for that! Maybe I can take you out for coffee if you’re into that?”

You have no idea how Minho loved the word coffee. He drinks coffee every day, almost like his water, so he might’ve been the happiest person ever when he heard that you’d treat his coffee. “I am in love with coffee, so you don’t have to ask, _____,” he smiles. “Great, now that we’ll have coffee tomorrow, I’m sure we’ll finish our paper just fine. Trust me.”

The next few days with Minho were relaxing, much to your surprise. You joined each other’s agendas, including Minho’s training sessions for the incoming volleyball championships. You opened up to him about what happened to you in the sports building, resulting in him getting outrageous on the spur of the moment.

Minho tries to ask calmly after taking a sip of his beloved coffee, “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” He knew you wanted to recover from what happened emotionally, but he didn’t think you had to recover from that, right?

“I wanted to forget about it for a while, Minho. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my time feeling miserable because of your fans crossing the line,” you answer, taking a bite of Minho’s cheesecake.

Before getting another bite, Minho reaches for your hand, removing the fork. He points the utensil at you, “_____, you just said they crossed the line. Don’t you think you should’ve told me right away still, and we could’ve done something about it?”

“I’m too nice to report it to the office, Minho,” your other hand reaches for his. “I know it’s a problem, but I’m seriously going to let this go. I know I cried over it, but this is not the worst thing I cried over. Maybe knocking some sense to themselves will make them more realistic that you’re not going to pick them.”

Snorting, he laughs and leans back in his seat. “Did you think I’m going to pick them over you?” He was misinterpreting it! You didn’t mean it that way. “Hey! You wouldn’t pick them in general because of how they acted, right? They were violent. Do you want a significant other like that?”

You pulled your hands away from him and stood from your seat. “You—” He cuts you off by holding your hands again, rushing over to the seat beside you, and gently pushing you back on your chair. “Get off of me! You’re twisting my words again!” All he did in response was laugh and hold you loosely. At least he didn’t grip your hands that tight.

“I get you. I get you. Don’t worry! I’m teasing you with good intentions!” He continues to laugh and move his things near you, returning to your side. “Sorry, really, but I understood what you meant. I would rather not have somebody who attacks people with volleyballs.”

Speaking of volleyballs, he remembered one of the things you said while you recalled the whole incident to him. “You said you were setting the volleyball? Didn’t you guys just start learning volleyball? How could you set the ball on your own properly without anybody monitoring? You could’ve squished your head with the volleyball—”

You shushed him, whispering a secret you thought you’d keep from him. “I know how volleyball works, okay? Unlike my other classmates who had no idea how to receive a volleyball, I’ve done it before. But it doesn’t mean I am a professional at it!”

He’d seen you stick your face with books and papers. But you… as an athlete? That’s something new. He never saw you as a type to engage with sports. “And you said I was good at many things, huh? You can also play volleyball! Why don’t you try out for the team too? I know you’ll do great there too!”

Slumping on your seat, you shudder. Minho’s convincing you with something good now, and it doesn’t fit your plans well. “Never saw myself dedicating my life to sports. Even if I say I’m not that bad, I don’t have any plan to spend a lot of time training.”

“I bet you can serve the ball very well like me. Your hand’s so heavy every time you push my head away—okay, I’ll stop!” Minho playfully glares at you. You did push his head away again. Laughing, you tell him, “Stop being so cocky, MVP! We all know you’re good with the sport!” Minho gasps, placing his hand on his chest. “Is _____ really acknowledging my skill in volleyball? That’s such an honor!” He repeatedly bows to you, “Thank you very much, _____. I value your kind words!”

Chuckling, you stop him from bowing, holding onto his built body, “Yeah, whatever, Lee. I just watched you train earlier this morning. You were pretty good.”

And now, you’re back to where it all began, the sports building. You’re facing the same people who had the guts to hurt you. The news of this group expressing their jealousy through volleyballs didn’t go well for Minho’s friends. They had them kneeling on the ground. A crowd surrounded you, implying that many knew about what happened.

Minho is beside you, snaking his arm around yours. “Do you have anything to say to _____?”

Minho and his friends set this whole thing up? Did they plan this right after you told him what happened?

“None of you are answering,” Changbin shouts, “Say something!” Jisung joins, playing with a volleyball in his hand and giving another to Changbin, “Quickly! Say sorry!”

Oh, these guys are taking it seriously. You did not know this duo could be louder than they could have ever been, and it scares you a little. They’ve been happy and fun most of the time. Their faces scream terror.

The group mumbled sorry a few times, making Minho puzzled at how quiet and short they apologized. “Doesn’t sound sincere to me, right, boys?” His friends agreed, telling the kneeled they should apologize genuinely.

Changbin and Jisung handed the volleyballs to Minho and passed them to you. “Nobody should hurt the person I love.”

Some of the boys, specifically Chan, Felix, and Jeongin, squealed loudly, getting the attention of Ara nearby. Ara, unfortunately, heard all of it since all the boys’ voices were echoing in the room. She steps into the crowd and watches the whole scene. You, on the other hand, tried to control your feelings. If Minho said that on a typical day, you’d push his head away like you always do. He said this in front of people, many people. You can’t screw the stunt up.

“Hit them on the face, _____!”

“Go _____!”

And they were all chanting your name. Did you want revenge? No. Do you feel these people should learn their lesson by publicly embarrassing them? No. Do they deserve to get harmed the same way as you did? No. You were truly too nice to treat them like this. Even if you were like royalty to Minho and his friends, you’d rather stay back and let things flow like how they’re supposed to. It already happened, and you’d rather keep things that way. You’re sure you don’t want them to go home with bruises. Shaming them wasn’t the way to go for you.

The group assumed you would hit them, so they covered their heads with their arms and whimpered. Minho’s friends still chanted your name to support the payback until you dropped the volleyballs from your hands. Smiling, you didn’t give in and got out of the room by pulling Minho away to the entrance of the building. Minho holds your hand after closing the door for you.

He stops you from walking down the building’s steps. “You really are too nice for this, _____. I wanted to do something in return for what happened to you.”

Lightly removing his hand from your arms, you roll your eyes. “You mean to bring them back there with volleyballs again for vengeance? Of course not, Minho. It’s so wrong to hit them.” Proceeding with your short trip to his car, Minho follows you behind, not noticing your rolling eyes. “Yeah, keep that bad boy facade. That doesn’t work for me. We’re in a relationship in this deal. If I’m not tolerating violence, then so are you. Let them go, yeah?”

You completely forgot that Minho has the intimidating side that everybody fears. Nobody knows about it except those who’ve seen him retaliate. With those large hands and muscled arms, you knew he could throw a big punch. You’ve seen it. And you know he’s willing to do it if he needs it. Frankly, his throwing punches might be a little attractive to you—whoops.

“Yes, I’ll stop! I’ll stop for you!” Minho raises both arms to his sides, giving in to your request. He knows you mean well, and maybe he needs a little of a change. For the past few days, he hasn’t told you about this yet, but he felt guilty over his teasing of you and all the little competition he started between you two. He began to truly appreciate you, acknowledging that he now considers you his friend, not this weird enemy-slash-competitor like you were before. When his friends asked about you, he was comfortable enough to mention you without cringing by simply thinking about you as he did back then. Minho cared for your thoughts and feelings, only occasionally inserting the teasing when he felt he needed it, which is still all the time, minus the intention of making you push his head away. He doesn’t want to get headaches anymore.

You stay still, the tips of your fingers on his car’s door handle. Will Minho truly stop for you? Well, he has been honest with you for the whole time in this deal. Maybe he felt how uncertain you were about what you could’ve done to the group earlier? If yes, thank the heavens he did; you seriously didn’t want to hurt anybody. “Alright, then. Let’s just go somewhere else.”

“How about the seaside near the mall in the other city?” You blinked after he delicately pulled your hand once again from the door handle. All the touches that happened ruined you, making you feel butterflies every time. The hand-holding, too, was making you flustered every time now. Is it because you brought down the walls against each other now? Were you getting too comfortable about his affections? He might’ve done this to others without making them flustered.

Minho rose his brows at how unresponsive you were to his touch. He assumed you didn’t get that much sleep before fetching you earlier this morning. After all, you volunteered to proofread your paper before emailing it to your professor. Both of you were on a video call the whole night. Minho was sweet enough to watch you proofread the articulation paper as impressive as you two made. Waving his hand in front of your face, he expressed his confusion about your lack of action. “You good? Did you get to sleep well last night? You were staring at the ground.”

Shaking your head, you answer him right after you get out of your trance. “Yes, I’m fine. Yeah, maybe. I still got the sleep, but it wasn’t the best, to be honest.” You finally got into the car after Minho opened the door for you.

You yell through the window as Minho goes to the driver’s seat. “The seaside’s an excellent choice, by the way!” Minho smiles, satisfied with the idea he just made. He thought of taking you there for some fresh air after a lot of stress and work over the last few days. Dedicatedly working with you day and night made Minho realize how far you’re willing to go just to pass. No, you’re not doing everything just to pass; you wholeheartedly wanted to excel, and that’s what he liked about you. He remembers how you will not let his outline for the paper slide.

“Minho, we have to make this paper detailed. Based on your outline, our paper’s going to be vague. We wouldn’t be able to dig deep into our topic.” You underlined some parts in the outline he attempted to create. “If we have the chance to explain further, then take it. Let’s not take this lightly. The paper is a part of our major requirements for the class.”

Minho didn’t care about this class much since his degree’s technicalities weren’t there. There was no math and programming, so he cared little about his work. Not until you became his partner for this paper. Did he guess he’ll take this more seriously now that you’re with him?

He mumbled under his breath. “Felix wasn’t kidding when you take every requirement seriously.” You glance up at him, raising your eyebrow. “Felix told you? We were group mates in another class.”

Nodding, he peeks at the pad of paper you were writing on. He meekly answers, “Felix told me you were the leader, and he thought the position fits you. He told me you were ‘artistic’-ish since you always have many ideas in your head.”

“Seems like Felix dropped many things about me to you.” You chuckle. “Was that why you knew much about me before we got into this fake relationship?”

Since Felix is a good friend, you didn’t expect him to talk about you to Minho. Although, you didn’t expect that he’ll get into detail like that since both of you bond together during classes only. “You got to use them against me.” You mumbled, playfully rolling your eyes. “Thanks for all of the teasing, by the way. I still remember how you embarrassed me about how I messed up my report to my prof last year.”

Minho was going to apologize already since it was the right timing, but you cut him off showing what you wrote on his face. Not the right timing. “Here! I made the outline you made more specific! What do you think? Do you think our paper could be good with this flow?” He grabbed the paper and distanced it from him a little, squinting his eyes.

The outline you made was jaw-dropping for him. He was astounded by how comprehensive your outline was. He wasn’t in the right mind to create a good articulation paper right now with this hell of a topic, so it amazed him how you could plan the critical points necessary for the paper. “You do not know how good this is, _____. This is great!”

In Minho’s head, he declares that you’re one of the most intelligent group mates he has ever encountered. And he found you interesting at that moment—how was your mind this brilliant? Papers like this take him days. It’s not his field of interest, so it consumes a lot of his time. “I don’t even do outlines. This one’s thorough and very impressive. You even pointed out things here that I never thought of!” He uses his ballpen to show them to you, laughing out of wonder. “This is not even the paper, yet you’re surprising me for real.”

“Great! We’ll be on the road for a long time, so buckle up! We’re going to have a nice time!” Minho bashfully grins. That was so adorable. You cannot help but poke his cheek for that. There was something about the glint in his eyes and the bottomless energy spewing out of him. This is a different Minho, a very joyful one, to be exact. When you notice Minho’s ears turn red, you giggle, reaching for his cheek again to pinch. “Your ears are so red! So adorable!”

Minho scratches his head and moves it away, you out of his sight. His hand climbs up to his face, feeling the heat on his face. Smiling, he tries to keep the tension down. “Shut up. I’m just a little excited.” Laughing, you lightly push his shoulder. “And it’s adorable, Minho. I don’t see you get excited quite a lot.”

Grumbling, he pushes your head away, similar to what you usually do to him. With shouts of protest coming from your mouth, he shouts back nonsense to tease your way of resisting. “Why don’t you take a nap first, _____? We have around an hour to go before we arrive at the seaside. If traffic persists, maybe another hour stuck on the road.”

You surrender by slumping your shoulders. “That wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.” Minho smirks and slowly pushes your head to the window. “You spent the whole night worrying about our paper. Take a nap, please. Take this as a little favor from me.” Minho waves his hand up and down as a sign to close your eyes. You whine. “I’m doing a favor right now. Ask me one at a time,” you move around on your seat, getting comfortable, “but I might take that little one. I’ll sleep for a bit.”

He waits for you to settle down and close your eyes before turning the engine on and starting the trip. When he hears your tiny snores, he unknowingly pats your head, letting out a satisfied sigh from his lips. Minho’s absolutely glad that you gave yourself time to rest. You're unstoppable—he learned something new about your work ethic over the past few days. While working on your paper and other requirements, Minho saw you sit endlessly, writing, typing, reading, and doing everything you could have done to complete the demands. Including no sleep, you barely let your eyes close completely like you always do until Minho ensures you get enough rest. Minho couldn’t believe that you were still so lively despite your normality of barely sleeping. Pretty much like Chan, he thinks. He thought only Chan was capable of doing that.

He takes this as an exchange for your acceptance of this deal he made with you. He thought that helping you in your routine while staying by his side to have you as his boyfriend was a great way to get the chemistry needed for a couple and that heart of yours (to be your friend, obviously). And so far, his plan is working. You’ve been getting comfortable with him, and he’s happy to see you no longer see him as this horrendous human being who’ll ruin your week every time. Plus, his group chat with his friends is flooding his notifications that Ara saw the occasion earlier in the sports building.

jisung: seungmin said ara was staring at both of you earlier!

jisung: it should be working!!!!

felix: i got to see it! she has the usual sad face lol

chan: are you sure you saw her face…?

changbin: you were too busy squealing over minho and _____

felix: JHSFDADJ STOP YOU TWO???

seungmin: LMAOOO felix, you probably forgot that they’re not a real couple, right?

felix: WELL, they *are* a real couple right now so…

felix: and they’re getting along very well!!! have you seen them the other day?

chan: oh, when you guys were talking about the next machine project?

felix: YEAH, the three of us were initially discussing it until they argued what type of loops they were going to use in the program lol

seungmin: so that’s how you define “they’re getting along very well” then?

minho: for the record, it was a peaceful argument, kim seungmin.

seungmin: oh HE’S ALIVE

minho: and we’re not cheating btw, i know talking about the project to others is not allowed lmao we’re just talking about which loop truly fits the mechanics

minho: _____ kept on pushing the exit-controlled loop, but i pointed them out the program should check the conditions first before starting the loop

seungmin: and i barely understand what he’s talking about again

minho: turns out, i misinterpreted the mechanics, and their point really made sense

seungmin: thanks for the tmi bro

felix: WAIT REALLY? i used an entry-controlled loop all this time :’>

felix: so i have to change tons of things in the source code then… DAMMIT

chan: hi minho, where did _____ take you?

minho: we’re leaving

minho: taking them somewhere

minho: and i’m not going to tell any of you where we’re going because i’m going to drive already

minho: goodbye!

jeongin: I JUST CAME BACK FROM MY CLASS

jeongin: MINHO DON’T LEAVE US HANGING HERE

changbin: minho be gatekeeping _____ now what is this

jisung: can anybody run and follow minho’s car?

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moonlit-han · 1 year

Text

watermelon

genre/au: fluffy romance, suggestive; childhood friends to lovers pairing: lee minho x fem reader word count: 2.6k warnings: suggestive, mild swearing, mention of body dysmorphia a/n: for mica. minho... what lovely boyfriend material. remember: to make a writer’s day, reblog the fics you read! <3

↠ masterlist | comments & feedback encouraged! ↞

↠↞

“Hey, bun,” Minho sounded a little breathless on the other end of the line. “We’re almost done the deck, wanna come over?”

“Really? Damn, Min, you guys are fast,” you replied, genuinely awed. “Didn’t you just start last weekend?”

There was no need for formality between the two of you, not anymore. No need for a greeting, no “How’ve you been?” You knew how the other had been. That was what happened when you’d known each other for most of your lives and talked every day.

Minho was your middle school crush, always attached to your hip and giggling through those slightly overlarge front teeth as you kicked your legs off the edge of his old treehouse. That had quickly turned into your high school crush, the two of you less frequently attached at the hip and far less sure of yourselves. It hadn’t helped that Minho had started dancing, quickly bonding with his fellow dancers and seemingly melting away into the studio more often than not. And then you’d gone to college at the same university, where you realized, Shit, it’s been ten years and now I’m in love with him.

Minho during college had driven you mad. He majored in dance, of course. Sometimes you got lunch together, sometimes you just met at the center of campus on the lawn and chatted. Sometimes, one of his friends tagged along and you noticed how their eyes followed his every move. You didn’t have a chance in hell. Not you with your bag stuffed full of books, hands smudged with ink from the random plot lines jotted down during astronomy. Not you with your body decidedly not lean and sleek like his dancer friends’ but just a bit squishy in ways you’d come to hate.

How could you compare? How could someone like him—popular, stunning, smart, and kind—want someone like you?

But Minho kept coming back to you, just like a cat who roamed far and wide yet still knew where its home was. That much, at least, you could be sure of and you’d long ago decided you’d take what little time and attention you could. And damn it, you were still definitely in love with him.

You’d known Minho had lovers, had called him too many times too early in the morning and heard a different voice in the background each time to know full well he did. But, you’d told yourself, at least you had him as a friend.

So, here you were, talking on the phone with Lee Minho while he was building a deck, of all things, with his friends. You were pretty sure it was on the house your mutual friend Chan had recently bought with his wife as he now had a wonderfully lucrative salary as a producer. You weren’t sure how Minho had been conscripted into helping, but he’d agreed and now, what was supposed to be a calm afternoon with just the two of you had turned into you waiting to hear from Minho whether he was done helping Chan or not.

“So,” Minho continued, “are you coming over?”

You chuckled. “Won’t I be in the way?” It wasn’t that you doubted your ability to assist with anything they might ask of you… You just felt a little uncomfortable… Well, not uncomfortable, more just like an outsider. Construction wasn’t your thing. You hadn’t even known it was Minho’s thing!

“Nope,” Minho said, popping the ‘p’. “Promise.”

“’Kay, let me just get into some real clothes.”

“Aw, real clothes are no fun,” Minho teased. “Would much rather see you show up in—”

“Lee Minho,” you growled, “shut up.”

Minho just cackled.

Thirty minutes later, you stood in front of Chan’s house. It was a bungalow with a wide porch and beautiful sycamores spreading their shade over its roof. It was painted a deep sapphire that reminded you of the night sky. So typical of Chan.

“Y/N!” A voice called and it took you a moment to find Chan, who was perched on top of his roof like it was just another seat. He’d always had a love of high places. “What’s up?”

“What the hell are you doing up there?” You yelled back at him. “What would Emma say?!”

“I’m up here, too, baby,” a woman’s voice called down to you. You couldn’t quite see her yet. “I knew I couldn’t stop him so I might as well join him!”

“Em!” Chan squealed, dropping out of sight over the far side of the roof. You assumed he was okay.

You just giggled at your friends’ antics and walked around the side of the house to find Minho.

Passing through a small kissing gate, you noticed a distinct lack of a deck. Maybe it was on the other side of the house and you couldn’t see it yet?

A moment later, you were practically bowled over by a flushed and beaming Minho. “Bun!! You made it!”

“Hey, Min,” you laughed, too startled to avoid his sweaty hug. “So, where’s this deck you told me about?”

Minho looked sheepish, catching your hand as he dropped his arms. He cocked his head in the direction of the back of the house. “Come here.”

You followed your friend, quietly reveling in how good it felt to hold his hand. Minho’s grip was firm but gentle, his palm pillowing against yours and fingers intertwining. You would be lying if you said you didn’t also brazenly give him an eyeing up and down, too. Damn, that man’s thighs in those old, ripped jeans were too much for you to handle. And why, why had he chosen a cut-off shirt? It was with a good deal of glee that you saw that the muscles in Minho’s arms, shoulders… Fuck, even his back had developed since the last time you saw him in a tank top.

You nearly tripped as Minho whipped his head around and said, “I can feel you staring, Y/N.”

“Yeah, so?” You shot back.

“Just thought I’d let you know,” Minho replied, then stopped beside a picnic table where you were certain Chan ate every meal he could in the summer. “So,” Minho continued, “I might have lied about the deck.”

You looked around. Damn, he was right. “Huh, so why am I here?” You mock-glared at him.

“Trust me?” Minho asked.

“Yes?”

“Close your eyes and give me your other hand, then. I promise I won’t let you trip.”

As you closed your eyes, Minho didn’t wait for your reply and simply took your hand. You spluttered. “You won’t let me trip? Where the hell are you taking me, Min?!”

“You’ll see, bun,” Minho whispered in your ear. The feeling of his breath tickling your skin made every nerve in your body flare like a signal across the universe: This, him, now.

And so Minho lead you to hell knew where, your feet first passing over grass, then carefully laid flat stones. You could feel the trees’ shade and smelled the richness of deep summer earth. When Minho finally stopped, causing you to run into him, you were certain you could feel the open space around you.

Minho let go of your hands and said, “Don’t open your eyes, yet, bun.” The next thing you knew, his arms were wrapping you in a tight hug from behind. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you leaned into him, your body doing what you most wanted before your mind could catch up. You shivered again as Minho leaned his chin on your shoulder. “Open your eyes now and look up.”

Tilting your head back, you were met with a sight you could have scarcely imagined.

“Min, I’m looking at a treehouse, right?” You said, voice almost breaking.

“I asked Chan if we could build it for you, bun. I know you’ve always wanted one of your own and… Well, since we’re over here so much I figured it’d be a good spot? Plus, if Chan and Em ever have kids, they’ll love it. I… I hope you do, too?”

As Minho spoke, you felt tears welling in your eyes and hurriedly blinked them away. “Minho,” you breathed, “I can’t believe you did this. That’s a whole treehouse. For an adult. You built this. Min…” You turned in his arms to see Minho smiling tentatively at you.

You threw your arms around Minho’s neck and hugged him fiercely. You tried to put everything you wouldn’t say into that embrace. “Thank you, Min,” was all you could say. “Thank you.”

Minho hugged you just as tightly, one hand at the small of your back, the other cradling your head. He leaned his check against your hair, swaying slightly as if moved by the same breeze that rustled the trees’ leaves overhead. “I’m glad you like it, bun.”

You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Minho, not trusting yourself not to kiss him. So, you simply said, “I love it.” In your heart, you knew you meant, “I love you.”

“Did she like it?” Chan’s voice came down the path, bright and hopeful as ever.

Minho raised his head from atop yours and quickly covered your ears before shouting back, “Yeah, she did. Still gotta go up in it, though.”

You giggled, reluctantly releasing your hold on your friend. “You’re right. What good is a treehouse if I’m only looking at it?” A mischievous grin blossomed across your face. “I call captain!”

Racing to the ladder—an honest-to-god ladder, not just some log rounds haphazardly bolted to the tree—you scampered up it, intent on indeed playing captain as you had so often as a child. You heard Minho’s laughter behind you, then felt the ladder shudder under his weight.

When Chan reached the clearing, you and Minho were laughing hysterically as you battled your way across the deck of the “ship” you were captain of. Catching sight of him, you went to lean over the railing of the treehouse.

“Ship-shape?” Chan asked, looking up at you.

“Aye, aye,” you replied, grinning. “You and Minho did a fantastic job. I still can’t believe you built an adult-sized treehouse out here. Thank you.”

“Of course, Y/N!” Chan said. “There’s watermelon back up at the house, by the way. Whenever you want to come get some!” With that, he set off back up the path.

“Well,” Minho said from beside you, “I guess we’d better go get some watermelon before Chan eats it all.”

↠↞

The two of you traipsed back to the house after Chan to find him already munching on a half-moon of watermelon at the picnic table. Without preamble, Minho sat himself down at the table across from Chan and selected a slice of of the ruby-red melon as you slid onto the bench beside him.

You were happily munching and crunching and slurping your way through your second slice, occasionally turning to spit seeds behind you, before you noticed the madness occurring beside you.

Minho, of course, was taking his sweet time eating his watermelon. Why should he rush? The way the juice ran down his fingers, his forearms... It was distracting in the worst way.

Eyes lidded, he nibbled at the flesh of the melon, licked at its juices, savored it. His mouth glistened in the midday sun filtering through the leaves of the sycamore above. He sucked the juices from the melon as he bit into it, a bit running down his chin. The sounds alone were enough to have you clamping your legs closed beneath the table.

Suffice to say, watching Lee Minho eat a half-moon of watermelon was one of the most erotic things you’d ever experienced.

Across from you, Chan raised an eyebrow. Shit, he had definitely noticed you staring. You mouthed, “Shut up” at him and earned a knowing smirk.

Finished one piece, Minho swiped the back of his hand across his mouth—doing nothing but smearing the watermelon’s juice over his skin—and looked around, noticing Chan’s and your silence.

“What?” He demanded.

“Oh, nothing,” you replied, shrugging and reaching across him for another half-moon of melon.

Minho hummed thoughtfully, then turned to face you fully, leaned an elbow on the table, and brought a finger to his lips. “I should probably clean this up,” he murmured.

All you could do was continue to stare, wide-eyed, as Minho proceeded to lick clean each of his fingers and his palms. He held your gaze the entire time, those usually frank and direct eyes now hooded and a little dazed.

You felt your pulse thunder throughout your body as you watched, knowing Minho was purposefully teasing you. It had to be a special kind of torment, you were sure of it. How could anyone resist kissing that smug look off his face?

“Oh, just fucking kiss already,” Chan grumbled from across the table.

You wheezed out a startled laugh as Minho’s eyebrows shot up.

“You know,” he said, licking a droplet of juice off his wrist, “I’ve been wondering when you might try.”

A beat of silence. Then, you were cupping Minho’s face and kissing him soundly. It was a little awkward at first, trying to slot your legs together over the bench while attempting some semblance of restraint. But the two of you managed it in the end.

Washing over you was the same giddy feeling you’d gotten as a kid, kicking your legs off the side of Minho’s treehouse. The same feeling as swinging so high you felt like you could touch the clouds drifting by. The same feeling as biting into the first slice of watermelon of the season.

Kissing Minho was, in short, the best thing you could imagine. If you’d been asked to draw a picture, you would have definitely needed a lot of gold, red, pink, purple, and even white crayon because you would have drawn stars and shooting stars and the sun and flowers and hearts and, and…

And here was Minho kissing you with just as much passion as you kissed him. (Maybe you’d need some extra red or orange for some flames)? As your hands found their way into his hair—just as silky as you remembered—his caressed your cheek, your bare arms. You knew you would be just a bit sticky with watermelon juice. Maybe he’d lick it off you.

The thought sent your mind reeling, imagining the feeling of Minho’s tongue against your skin. Maybe he’d graze his teeth over your collarbone just the way you liked. Maybe he’d show the same attention to devouring you body and soul that he did his dance.

You pressed yourself closer to him, hooking your legs over his hips. Minho let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr... Perhaps something to explore later. If there was a later. There would be a later, if you had anything to say about it.

But you were brought back to the present by Minho’s hands sliding into the back pockets of your jean shorts, hiking you further onto his hips. Over and over you returned to each other’s lips, seeking and finding, giving and taking, learning and relearning the feel of each other. You were sure you could never tire of the feel, the taste of him.

The rest of the world had dropped away like a stone in a wishing well.

An utterly indeterminable amount of time later, a polite cough broke through the haze of desire and dreaming that had consumed you and Minho.

“Um,” Chan said pointedly, “I didn’t mean here.”

You and Minho looked at each other, then burst out laughing. He let you slide from his lap, hands gripping your thighs as you went.

“Would you rather we go to the treehouse?” Minho quipped over his shoulder. It was a question for Chan, but you heard it as it truly was: an invitation for you.

You glanced at Chan, whose face had flown into the most ridiculous expression: pure shock, a little disgust, and a little interest (though, he’d deny it to the grave). Thinking to spare your friend from more displays, you re-situated yourself next to Minho, demurely wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Come on, Min,” you said, kissing Minho’s temple. “Let’s go back to mine and leave Channie in peace. I think we’ve scared him enough today.” To Chan you added, “I’ll make sure he comes back to get anything he left here.”

Minho cackled, levering himself up from the table. “Oh, the plans I have would most certainly scar him for life. You, on the other hand,” he said, winking, “will be quite pleased with my plans.”

As Chan made disgusted noises in the background, you lead Minho away. “And what if I have plans for you?” You purred. “What then?”

“Then I’ll let you have your way with me, princess. I always do.”

#stayhavennet #districtninewriters #lee minho #lee know #skz minho #lee minho fanfic #minho fanfic #minho imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids minho #skz fanfic #skz suggestive #skz imagines #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids romance #lee minho x reader #.moonlight #.moonbeams.

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blossom-hwa · 2 years

Text

inspired by bridgerton. yes I know I have problems. in case you’re curious hyunjin is inspired by benedict bridgerton, but not from the show (this is from a scene I read during my brief foray into the book before I stopped)

wc: 1.5k ~ hyunjin x gender neutral!reader ~ nobility!au, bridgerton!au ~ triggers: none ~ stray kids masterlist

for @chogiwow :) thanks for listening to me yell about this godforsaken show ivy <3

[ a cinderella story ] “Still feeling sick, my lord?”

It isn’t a lie when Hyunjin tosses a little on his bed to face you in your chair, a sad little pout on his lips as he nods against the pillows. He still is sick – the flush hasn’t gone from his cheeks if the small mirror in the room is anything to go by, his body still feels hot, and the headache hasn’t quite receded from where it pounds against his temples. But if Minho were here, he might get Hyunjin to admit that he’s probably overplaying the sick patient angle, if only a little bit.

The pout is certainly not the one that he knows will get him anything from anyone he wants. It’s a natural consequence of the shape of his lips. Obviously.

You raise an eyebrow, shutting the book in your hands. “Well, we’re through with this volume.” Turning around, you place the book back onto its shelf. The instinctive please be careful dies in his throat as he watches the care with which you handle his belongings. “Is there another you’d like me to read? Or would you like to go back –”

“No.” Hyunjin cuts you off, snuggling back under his covers. He knows what you want to ask, and he doesn’t want it. “No, I’m not sleepy.”

“Rest will certainly help you stop feeling so sick, my lord,” you reply mildly. You don’t settle back onto the chair, something Hyunjin dislikes vehemently – actually, dislikes is probably not the right word for now, but his head feels a little too much like cotton for him to care. What he does care about right now is keeping you here, making you stay, and if he goes to sleep you won’t find any reason to stay and you’ll definitely leave.

“I’m not sleepy,” he repeats. “I’ve slept for hours. Can you read me something more?”

You turn back to the shelf without complaint. “As you wish. What would you like? Poetry? A novel? Oh –” there’s a slight noise of surprise – “fairy tales?”

Hyunjin blinks. Fairy tales?

You slide a thick volume from the shelf, brushing something off of the top. Hyunjin looks a little more closely. “Oh,” he says, smiling. “You found them.”

“Had you lost this, my lord?” You turn the book around in your hands. “It seems like something quite difficult to lose.”

“No, it wasn’t lost.” He shakes his head as best he can on the pillows. “I just had not read them in a while.”

You look at him. “Would you like me to read one now?”

Hyunjin looks from you to the book and back again. Anything would sound nice, honestly, being read in your voice, but a childhood fairy tale sounds much better for one reason or another. He nods. “Yes, please.”

“All right then.” You sit back down, thumbing through the pages. “Which one is your favorite?”

It’s so easy for the answer to roll off of his tongue. “The Wise Princess.”

You flip to the correct page, and Hyunjin loses himself in the sound of your voice reading to him his favorite fairy tale of all time. The words have become so familiar over years and years of reading and rereading, but still, Hyunjin finds himself with a smile on his face when you finish. It sounds like a new story from your lips, one that he can enjoy all over again.

“I’ve never read this one before,” you say, breaking the quiet. “It was beautiful.”

“It is not the most well-known,” Hyunjin admits. “I’m not surprised to hear you say that.”

With a hum of acknowledgment, you begin to close the book. Hyunjin panics, sort of – what will keep you here for just a while longer?

“What is your favorite fairy tale?”

You pause. “Mine?”

He raises an eyebrow. “No, I was asking the ghost in the room.”

Exasperated annoyance flickers into your expression, in the side-eye you throw him before settling back into your previous pleasant neutrality. “Well, if I had to choose of the few of which I know…” You purse your lips, an action that looks far more attractive to Hyunjin’s muddled mind than it should. “Cinderella, I suppose.”

“Cinderella?” He blinks. “Why?”

“It…” You huff a little. “It has the least magic.”

“I seem to recall a tree that granted wishes, tame turtledoves who could understand poor Cinderella’s call, and pigeons who spoke to the prince to warn him of the stepsisters’ treachery.” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Not to mention that the prince could not even recognize Cinderella’s face, only the size of her foot with the shoe she left behind.”

A strange expression sifts over your face. You don’t say a word.

“Y/N?”

The expression clears immediately. Hyunjin blinks. Did he imagine that? Is he having fever hallucinations again? Or did his mind actually see something true?

“Well, when you put it like that, it does sound a bit strange, my lord.” You roll your eyes, the flicker of teasing annoyance back in your expression, and Hyunjin relaxes. It was probably nothing. He’d rather listen to your voice anyway – thinking hurts right now. “But if you take out the magic and the nonsense with the prince, think about it. Anyone can have a Cinderella night, with the kindness of a few others.”

Hyunjin remains quiet as a faraway look enters your eyes. Only after several beats of silence does he realize he’s almost stopped breathing – stifled himself in order that he may maintain the serenity of the moment, the nostalgia etched in every line of your face. For it is clear you remember something beautiful, something wonderful, but at the same time something very far away, out of reach.

Even hazy to his blurry mind, he knows your expression is beautiful. Very beautiful. Mentally, he makes a note that if he remembers any of this the next morning, he will draw it. The same way he drew that nameless dancer so many years ago, clothed in midnight blue and silver to rival the night sky…

“Yes,” you breathe, breaking Hyunjin out of the midnight daze. “If we replaced the tree and the turtledoves and the pigeons with people who have kind hearts, we can make a Cinderella story without the magic. One only needs the kindness of some to make beautiful memories, my lord.”

The words slip from his mouth before he can stop them. “You seem to have experience with this.”

A little smile quirks your lips, but you don’t say anything more. And yet it doesn’t matter, because even though Hyunjin would love to hear you speak again, let your voice soothe him back into rest, there is something in that smile that seems familiar, so very familiar…

What was he thinking about before this? The expression on your face. Blissful, wistful, like a hand reached out to the never-ending sky… a sky…

“The sun sinks low, my lord, and I must go help prepare dinner.” You stand up from the chair, settling the book of fairy tales on the bedside table. “Get some rest now, and Ms. Bennett will later bring you something to eat.”

The pout on his lips is one hundred percent real when he looks at you. “You only read me one story.”

“Tomorrow,” you promise. “I will read you more tomorrow.”

If his mother were here, she’d scold him for being such a petulant child. But she isn’t, which is why Hyunjin feels perfectly justified in deepening his pout. “Why not tonight?”

“Because you need rest, and I have things to attend to.” You give a short curtsy. “Tomorrow, my lord.”

“Bring me dinner,” he bargains. “Instead of Ms. Bennett. And you can read to me while I eat. Please?” He stares right at you, knowing that this pout gets him everything he wants. “Spare me some kindness for a Cinderella night?”

The look on your face freezes for a second, but just like before with that strange expression, it clears before he can even discern whether or not the moment was real. “You drive a hard bargain, my lord, but if I stay and read you will speak and will not rest,” you counter, that little smile back on your face. “I have promised tomorrow, so save the kindness for a more important Cinderella night.”

Privately, Hyunjin believes nothing could be more important than keeping you here as long as he can, but by the firmness in your tone and eyes, he feels quite certain you won’t entertain anything more. “Fine.” He allows himself to mostly drop the pout, to smile in a way that hopefully matches yours. “Good night then, Y/N.”

Your smile lights the room far more than the candles ever could. “Good night, my lord.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for hyunjin to realize mc is his cinderella. like come on dude don't be daft)

156 notes · View notes

neo-shitty · 1 year

Text

safety pin — s.cb

description. just because changbin knows how to put away a knife doesn’t change the fact that he knows how to wield one.

pairings. seo changbin x gender-neutral reader

genre. hurt/comfort, angst, bestfriends!au

warnings. vague implications of bullying, swearing, open-ended? cliffhanger?

word count. 2.5k

notes. this is for the bullied bullies—the ones who were never nice enough to say they didn’t deserve what they got. there are only two ways our lives could go: change for the better or get fucking worse. i hope we’re all moving towards the former.

You remember how it feels like to drown in open air. The tightening in your chest, ribcage brushing against dried out lungs. The panicked beating of the heart, the physical act of breathing not feeding oxygen into your system. Help me.

It happened at the back of a noisy classroom, by the far corner where it was darker and quieter than the rest of the room. It wasn’t too far, but it was separated enough from the small circles of people that filled the room with boisterous laughter and chatter static.

Silence was violent, it gave way to the voices in your head. On most days, they were nothing but murmurs in the back of your mind, as if the cog that controlled their volume was free of rust and turned to the lowest notch. Other days, they got to you but you tried your best to push through. Today, they were nearly impossible to shrug off, amplified by people who sat at the other side of the room.

You could see the rise and fall of your chest, feel your warm breath brush the back of your hand, but you couldn’t feel the air in your system—where it was needed most. Your head felt lighter with every second that passed and your uneven breaths did little to no help to the lack of oxygen in your head.

Time has passed and things have changed. The ghosts from your past could no longer hurt you now. It was what you wanted to tell yourself. But the wounds they left behind haven’t healed into scars quite yet. They were sealed shut in fragile seams that didn’t take much to rip back open. Without agitation, they didn’t hurt as much as they used to, yet that didn’t mean that they no longer did. You were sure they’d long forgotten about the words they’d left and they pranced around innocently like their words weren’t drilled into the back of your head. You could still hear them mocking you, their laughter reverberating on the walls of your mind whenever you glanced at a mirror.

But you weren’t innocent, no. You spat poison at others just as much as it was spat on you, maybe even more. It was a vicious cycle of cruel words you never really meant, just things you said out of necessity to have the final clap-back—the one that made everyone shut up. Even that backfired eventually, like all things did in terms of karma. You got a taste of your own medicine and rendered helpless at the other end of the knife.

It took you a while to build yourself up again and for months you thought you’ve healed and let go. It took one glance in their direction to send you back in time, to a headspace you thought you’ve overcome and moved on from. And for the first time in months, you were scared again.

Everything was starting to go well for you again. You’ve started anew, with a clean slate you didn’t want to smear any time soon. The image of you in their heads no longer existed, you’ve tried to change completely. But it didn’t mean that it never existed. Whoever they knew was still you, it still lived in their minds as a memory no matter how you tried to erase it. There was no running from who you once were. They had the upper hand, they had the claim of being on the victim’s end. It only took a few mouths to turn the people you held close against you for the second time around.

The heaviness shackled you down to your seat. Getting away was hopeless with the way your limbs were shaking. They paid you no heed, but you could feel their eyes dart to you occasionally—waiting for a moment to strike a conversation just for old times sake. You weren’t ready for such casualties. So you tried to stay focused on the sole thing that kept you from having to interact with anyone else. You tapped away on your phone, fingers trembling as you typed in a ‘get me out of here’ to the nearest contact, clicked send and went on to distract yourself with whatever your phone had to offer. Seconds felt like hours confined in the same room where you were suffocating.

Yet you kept your face stoic, as if the alarms in your head weren’t going off one after the other. Your leg bounced restlessly, fingers fidgeting with no other purpose but to hold your phone in place. The looming presence inches closer, overwhelming you like a wave crashing over you and pulling you beneath the surface. You sank deeper and deeper and deeper.

“_____?”

Amidst the chorus in your head, you heard a voice break through, barely. You snapped back into focus, slowly looking up from your mindless phone browsing to find the voice’s owner. Across the room, Changbin was scanning the room for you—eyes darting from one row after the other until he finally found you at the far back.

For a fraction of a moment, his eyes softened when they met yours. He raised an arm to wave you over. “Let’s go.”

The room blurred around you as Changbin became your sole focal point. You gave him a small nod in acknowledgment, sweeping your bag off the armchair before you crossed what had been an impossible space seconds ago. You could feel eyes boring holes on your back as you walked away, like predators stalking prey they couldn’t wait to gnaw on. You were anxious, thinking that they’d call out your name and you’d be forced to face them. What would happen then? Would you be able to defend yourself like you rehearsed a hundred times before? But you reached Changbin with no interruptions, slipping out of the classroom right behind him.

Finally, air.

You allowed yourself a sigh when you made it out. The heaviness on your chest wasn’t entirely gone but waning with every step further. The hallways were wide, quiet, and empty, as they always were on Friday morning. Enormous windows lined the walls opposite to the classroom doors, allowing the autumn breeze to sweep down the floor.

Changbin walked quietly beside you, eyebrows furrowed and mouth twisted into a seemingly permanent frown. Only when he noticed you looking did he decide to break the silence between the both of you. “What were they doing here?” he spat, voice laced with irritation but his eyes were gentle when they looked over. You only shrugged in reply. “Are you okay?” he asked.

It was a hard question to answer given the circumstances. But for now, your thoughts have gone quiet ever since you walked out the room. Having changbin around made you feel more safe and secure. “I am now,” you muttered honestly. “That was fast though. Did you dash for the room the second you got my text?”

He frowned before cocking an eyebrow at you, “What text?”

You fished your phone out of your pocket. “The one I sent about getting me...” you trailed off when you saw the red exclamation point beside your latest message. Your call for help remained unsent.

“What text?” he repeated, peeking at your phone screen.

“How did you know?”

Changbin stopped a few steps ahead when he noticed you were no longer following. The gentle breeze picks up and gusts down the hallway to fill in for the silence that had fallen you. His eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowed, “I thought I saw them earlier and then I tried to find you before they did,” he answered. “Guess I was a little too late? I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it.”

That hadn’t been the last time Changbin got you out of a tight pinch, but it was the one that stuck with you most. Months have passed since then yet the memory resurfaced with crystal clear definition as if it had happened only a week ago. It was only one of the memories that you recalled fondly as the town blurred past you on the drive home.

Beside you, Changbin kept his eyes on the road, humming softly to the song playing through the radio. You’ve long given up your attempts to spark a conversation, exhausted from being out the entire day. You knew he hated silence just as much as you did and you hoped the music and your (awake) company would be enough to help him drown out his anxieties for the next day. The car grew quieter with every person he dropped off until he was left with only you—the last stop.

He slowed the car down as he made the turn for your street. You could faintly recall his disbelief when he first drove you home, unable to believe that such a peaceful neighborhood could exist in the bustling city. The quiet stood in stark contrast to his own street and he took the time to breathe in the tranquility, it might be the last of it that he’d be getting in the next few months.

Changbin parked the car by the vacant lot beside your house, facing west where the sun was slowly setting behind the mountains in the distance. Throughout your friendship, you both had your fair share of comfortable silences—be it across each other at a coffee shop downtown as you both tried making sense out of the notes you scribbled down in class or inside the comfort of his car as you watched the sun set, like today. Most of your time together was spent laughing.

He was leaving for college the next day and you were lucky enough to be a part of his last day in town. It felt like the past two years passed in the blink of an eye. One moment you were still cramming a semester-worth of knowledge in your brain on the night before exams and the next moment you were having half-drunk conversations as you stared into the inky black sky full of stars. Changbin was so much more than just the academic prodigy who happened to sit on the chair next to yours in Math class. He started novels at the same time you did just to see who was the faster reader. He sat through the most boring of lectures with you, gladly lending you one of his earphones so you could listen to the same song together as you ignored the same useless ‘teacher’. He swapped wallets with you in an attempt to save money; though awfully unsuccessful you got a good laugh out of it.

When you met in junior year, neither of you had clean slates. Your names were both tainted with mistakes from your pasts, permanently smeared as if your actions were impossible to grow out of. You were both beaten down and broken enough to not let your guards down so easily. Back then, wounds from your past were still healing and you knew the risks of befriending someone perfectly capable of wielding a dagger and inflicting the same damage you’ve suffered in the past.

But he showed you nothing but kindness; bluntness with the best intentions, understanding beyond what you thought you deserved. Changbin knew what to say and when to say it, knew what to do to get misunderstandings fixed without blowing them out of proportion. You were difficult and so was he. Maybe that was how he knew how to handle you, maybe that was how your friendship worked. You both heard what past ghosts had to say about the other yet you took it upon each other to see for yourselves if they were true. Either they were lying about him or the person they had in mind no longer existed. The same might have been true for you too.

He always tried to see the good in you, believing that what you needed was a shot at redemption, a restart. He knew the bad things you did, looked past them when he saw that you were no longer the person you were back then. You were worth saving, no matter how your mind managed to convince you otherwise. You wouldn’t call him your savior though, you did a lot of mending on your own but it was great to have someone to tell you not to be too hard on yourself.

“So,” he muttered quietly, “when are you getting out of the car?”

“Fuck you.” Changbin howls in laughter the second your fist hits his arm. You think it hurt your knuckles more than it did him but you try not to show it. The car fills with laughter, both his and yours, then dies—preserved only in memory. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“God damn it, ______. You’re making it seem like I’m not coming back.”

“Good riddance.” He’s looking over you now, unsure if he was growing impatient with every second you were stalling or wasting empty minutes for a bit more time with you. You never figured that out and you never got to ask him. “I’ll miss you though,” you finally let slip, “a lot more than I emotionally prepared myself to.”

“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.”

A few more quiet glances and a squeeze excused as a hug later, you’re out of his car and waving him off. He honks then drives away. And he hasn’t even disappeared down the road but you were already thinking of next times and future promises to be fulfilled when he came back. There were drives to make, countries to see, seas to cross—all of which were waiting at the end of the 4-year wait left of your educational journey. Somehow, you were convinced that the few short years you’ve known him were enough to reassure you the friendship would last.

It didn’t.

Some distances were just too far, and some changes were too drastic to ignore. Somewhere in between the four years away, Changbin turned into the very same monster the ghosts said he was. Or maybe there was never anything to turn into when he had always been that way, just better at hiding it. A part of you always saw it coming; a twin of your own doubt on yourself projected on someone who had the same tendencies you did. It was so much easier to revert back to old ways than to change into a new leaf, the familiarity of previous habits almost too easy to fall back into.

You wanted to deny it, accuse other parties of making stories, because your bias always rested with the one you knew better. But the actions were inexcusable and when it came to picking sides, you winded up somewhere in the god-awful middle—acknowledging the affected yet inherently incapable of holding the perpetrator fully accountable. Because how could you, when he turned a blind eye to your own actions? Why couldn’t you do the same? Why won’t you do the same for him?

You still remembered him from that Friday years ago; saving grace to you. But it was just a split-second in the long reel of life. Maybe what you knew of him was nothing but a facade meant to bury who he really was—an identity built on a mosaic of little good deeds to cover the reeking reality behind it.

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