#prince!ateez | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eightmakesonebraincell · 6 months

Text

ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 12.8k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)

hongjoong

pov: you're the king's royal courtesan

“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”

when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head

he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness

“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”

“i don’t,” he simply says

and it’s true

hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness

he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls

hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans

it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king

the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?

he never sees the same courtesan more than once

“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”

you smirk when he curses and throws his head back

his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low

“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”

he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck

you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status

part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer

you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you

lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services

it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another

whether the rumours about his stamina will be true

whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule

except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever

lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer

lady shin is not amused to say the least

with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead

and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for

(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)

(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)

your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed

you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”

“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts

you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching

“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”

for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too

“as if. fuck off”

your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation

“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour

when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you

hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you

he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you

hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants

when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”

“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back

he raises an eyebrow

oh yeah?

he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm

now that shuts you up

for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name

and another request turns into another

and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name

but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship

he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings

he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring

you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything

“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”

“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings

he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with

you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open

you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him

except, when you look up to see if he’s following?

his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you

“were you even paying attention?”

he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all

in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet

he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke

he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times

you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway

there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too

(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)

you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him

when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past

“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”

lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder

she laughs then asks to have a look

you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise

“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery

“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify

you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’

lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you

“it says, my flower”

you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later

lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her

“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”

this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you

you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan

and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall

my flower

you hesitate

“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”

lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her

the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now

you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet

(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)

you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway

and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand

it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours

not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy

and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day

“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him

he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”

then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”

“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”

said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again

“no i’m not!”

“whatever you say,” you smirk

after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later

which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much

but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long

you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift

yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass

you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth

he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”

you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone

guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed

“do you trust me?” he whispers

trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”

you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift

you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air

and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing

“you can look now,” he tells you

you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect

it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus

and you gasp

there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon

“try it on,” he encourages

but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing

it’s patchy

it’s uneven

it has empty areas

but it is no doubt embroidery

“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you

“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”

“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”

you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing

he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him

upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”

you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”

he looks at you impossibly soft

under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core

you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers

it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue

so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth

you suck on them a little harder

a little deeper

and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”

he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches

“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall

“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”

he doesn’t need further encouragement

he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds

it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them

he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly

then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp

“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you

the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room

and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name

he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers

he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs

when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs

a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter

“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”

it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time

your mouth drops in disbelief

when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”

“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”

“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”

you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”

he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips

“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”

“very good plan,” you grind up against him

and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”

hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny

“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”

seonghwa

pov: you're his royal guard

as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away

you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety

one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear

they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear

from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits

seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though

unsurprising but still grating

the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside

albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left

it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen

the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see

“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks

“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile

you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map

on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt

you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch

because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention

but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either

so you strike in his stead

your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping

his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee

scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him

"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle

"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"

"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins

“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”

he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”

“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”

“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”

you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up

it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector

it has been almost four years since it happened

somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him

you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator

an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle

seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution

to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned

you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement

it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him

as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision

“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge

not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness

and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him

you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang

quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked

neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows

he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again

you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly

it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism

one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more

where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice

“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him

“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort

yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with

where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield

you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike

you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status

and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself

where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution

your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for

he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway

you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew

but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him

as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way

seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him

he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you

(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)

(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)

you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with

after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you

not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face

yes.

especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies

he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song

seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck

except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness

the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth

you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you

needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping

but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it

like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers

it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects

conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room

everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon

when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet

and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls

baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting

“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice

he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed

as if they are-

“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”

okay

most definitely proudly

you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger

“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to

“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”

“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else

that is more than enough for him, though

which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things

he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth

you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter

you wonder if his lips will taste the same…

but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind

because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow

how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?

so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship

you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation

seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together

it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart

he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of

and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…

in love with you

following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around

but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts

until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace

seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail

then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder

you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-

until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land

it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side

when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief

“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell

“i-”

taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”

“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer

“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”

for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing

seonghwa swallows

“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”

your throat tightens at his words

it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips

he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes

“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”

“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation

“because i’m in love with you”

right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response

“then that makes the two of us,” you confess

you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop

you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side

raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips

it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile

you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him

“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”

you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you

“does this mean i get to retire?”

yunho

pov: you're part of a rebel group

the crown prince is not in his fucking library

for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night

until today

under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing

except doing that would make your job significantly harder…

considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.

you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch

following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash

a leash made of barbed wire

people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline

although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s

within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters

the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination

dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners

and you are amongst the elite team

which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince

except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong

which never happens

you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine

he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards

you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave

only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof

their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same

you run

you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room

when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs

this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long

if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards

so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower

keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump

you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees

then you wait

he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground

“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm

you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”

now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-

wait

even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same

the same as those on the elite team

“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions

except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build

being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours

he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet

when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”

he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team

you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him

“when is red most beautiful?”

it is a vague question with a fixed answer

one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself

during the sunrise of a new beginning

“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely

the tension releases from your shoulders

“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”

the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease

you both flip over the top and land in unison

the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest

the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols

you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps

and then you hear it

the shattering clang of a desperate parry

all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut

you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords

bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you

several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury

it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you

and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate

you have the element of surprise

but only for the next few seconds

you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing

there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed

you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them

except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away

the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive

but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them

you.

you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword

the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness

in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam

you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand

but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling

“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder

you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground

you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries

there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse

which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks

how did he know about the attack in the first place?

you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him

except…the man has disappeared

and so has the intruder’s body

days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library

you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise

this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line

you spot him

he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments

you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer

you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles

and there the crown prince stands

he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy

mercy that you have no intention of showing him

the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none

“it’s you again, isn’t it?”

you freeze

the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you

“you were here a few days ago”

fuck

how he knows you have no idea

what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well

the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy

“you are part of red sun, are you not?”

this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel

it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does

what the actual fuck

you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy

“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”

his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”

“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff

but then his next words change everything

“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”

before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince

“hide,” he hisses urgently

and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible

you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf

“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say

from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”

“of course, crown prince yunho”

even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice

they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”

“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”

“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”

yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them

is this the same crown prince as the rumours?

and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?

you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face

he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility

“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask

your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you

but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level

“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”

your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor

because how is any of this possible?

you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you

it makes you feel so strange

the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier

yunho starts to explain

a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people

thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined

in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning

a new leadership

except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked

“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”

he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”

yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained

he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence

“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry

yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”

you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look

yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-

“a suicide pill?”

you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing

the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like

you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves

but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb

it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar

yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given

whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well

there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho

but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends

you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence

except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle

other times he is the one trying to fluster you

“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”

“i was taking the pill out to show you!”

you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap

“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”

he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”

other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on

“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes

and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly

“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”

you swallow hard

you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up

“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side

you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee

and eventually, you two have a breakthrough

yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine

in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’

“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs

you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder

pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two

they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious

“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”

you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea

he doesn’t - not at first

not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image

“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”

the king’s butler?

lee?

your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours

“lee minjun”

you sink back in your seat

there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved

the question of why and what for remains

in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too

there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future

yunho breaks the silence first

“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”

after this all ends

you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too

you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne

the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon

the new beginning is close

and at that, something in you relaxes

crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief

“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”

and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once

ironically, yunho chokes on air

you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes

you think your eyes are deceiving you because-

the tips of his ears are a glowing red

you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess

the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”

“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles

“and why is that?” you humour him

he finally looks at you

and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours

“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”

yeosang

pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him

ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang

it just made sense

for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies

it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding

so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love

and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned

if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang

he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room

he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard

they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger

you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”

if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now

you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy

if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid

stupidly in love

because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince

unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing

it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world

but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written

the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace

it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage

you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter

whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words

whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him

two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom

and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter

your whole life you have been able to wait patiently

you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity

the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace

even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him

nothing can bring you down from cloud nine

only…the letter never comes

not the day after, not the week after, not the month after

you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up

you send him another letter, and then another, and another

sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said

other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears

and you also wonder about him

you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are

with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits

you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply

until-

you do.

it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile

with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded

your mind races with anticipated words and explanations

perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier

or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit

you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-

stop sending me letters.

and just like that, the clock strikes twelve

your carriage reverts into a pumpkin

and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes

you don’t write to him again.

years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them

they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son

now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife

really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can

you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed

she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”

“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”

you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you

“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully

“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”

you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”

“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals

caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before

you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless

later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”

before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff

there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway

heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning

the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting

you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again

if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish

“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”

when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none

“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”

you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”

“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”

oh?

flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself

because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang?

first the vase, and now this

you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud

your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much

when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky

you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up

you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions

and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-

“are you okay?”

yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door

he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”

thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind

you start with half truths

“just missing my little brother”

“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”

you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon

it implies he’s noticed you

“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod

something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name

you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently

“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”

“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth

“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind”

it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b

yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes

when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly

“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”

you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”

“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”

it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky

“yeah, that’s okay”

you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance

it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences

you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him

the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters

because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up

as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore

“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice

yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open

and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says

“you wrote me letters?”

your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception

“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”

“impossible. i never got your letters”

your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”

“wait,” he interrupts

yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”

upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp

it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar

“not the seal, no”

he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”

you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment

“but then-”

but then who wrote the letter?

and where did all your letters go?

the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju

a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile

no, not a smile, you realise

a smirk

you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness

yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful

“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him

it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately

“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”

“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”

he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers

“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly

then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought

he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these”

he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously

“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around

“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands

and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”

yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers

you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know

eight flowers

eight letters

i l-o-v-e y-o-u

4K notes · View notes

cvpitvno · 1 year

Text

PRINCE CHARMING (part two)

𖤐 — 6k

𖤐 — fem!pronouns, soulmate au, angst, fluff, open ending (but happy), mean!mingi, mentions of a troubled home life for yeosang, unhealthy relationship examples, yeosang is pushy but he means well

they were far from friends and could hardly be considered acquaintances either. blame it on her avoiding all things fun or cool in the eyes of the crowd, or be it his insatiable need for popularity, their paths were just never meant to cross.

to him, saving a little face, remaining untouchable, and being someone other boys looked up to and who girls drooled over, meant much more than any of that soulmate bullshit the world shoved down the youth’s throats the minute they turned sixteen.

you see, yeosang never understood the want or desire for an eternal pairing against his will. to wake up one day, freshly sixteen and still sporting a baby face, and have words written delicately on his wrist determine the rest of his life.

the sight was beautiful he could admit, but for a boy whose own parents were a walking disastrous pair of soulmates who fought and who raised their son to believe that romance, feelings, and all things that followed, were signs of weakness – the disgraceful femininity that some men embrace.

they taught him in their own twisted way without meaning to, that soulmates were a load of shit. people didn’t just magically fall into place with their counterparts because of some writing on their wrists. no, people were cruel, sick and twisted individuals who only used love as a way of personal gain and pleasure.

it was all phony.

and while yeosang didn’t listen to many of the things his parents told him due to the lack of care for their words, he always remembered one thing his father had told him when he was just a boy.

to be in love is to be weak.

she hadn't attended school for the rest of the week.

her parents had been beyond understanding of her feelings and had brought up the idea of spending some time by herself to promote healing. it was difficult the first two days – yeosang’s words playing on a loop like a broken record in her head, the phantom feeling of her classmate's eyes burning into her from all directions, and the stinging feeling in her palms from the pavement only worsened when she thought about showing her face at school again.

while the days still hurt, she, with time, had improved.

however, moving forward, she had changed her wishful and loving feelings towards soulmates.

some people in the world were lucky enough to be soulfully destined to be with someone kind, loving, and selfless. they were paired with someone who would give to them without expecting an ounce of anything back.

she acknowledged that love wasn’t dead for most people and that there were examples of soulmates all around the world who had found or were set to find someone who could love them with their entire being and be able to return that love ten-fold.

but her thoughts about her own pre-written love life had turned sour.

she didn’t go to bed and dream about her future wedding, those dates that everyone envied, dinners on the town or in the comfort of her shared bedroom with her soulmate, or those blurry, never fully pieced-together dreams of a family. it was tragic, really. to lose the one thing she dreamed of since her youth in such an embarrassing, heartwrenching, and unforgettable way is something she had feared since the ink had appeared one day.

school was inevitable, this she knew, but it still shook her to the core to think about the sneering faces or the laughs that would echo as she walked by. all that paired with the chance of seeing yeosang made everything resurface.

but while her parents were understanding for the first week, they too, had their own limits.

her brother had driven her to school that day, windows rolled down and aux handed over to her (read : against his will), he had gone above and beyond to make her no doubt stress-filled day to come at least a little more bearable.

“listen,” he spoke as he pulled to a stop in front of the gates of the school. “you call me or mom if anything happens and we’ll both come running in a heartbeat,” he held his pinky out for the girl to take. “while i can’t promise today is gonna be easy, i can promise that people who love you will be there for you when things get rough.”

she was glad to have someone like her brother in her life.

and hey, even though romantic soulmates didn’t work out for her, she knew she didn’t have to have a soul mark on her body to know her other half was sitting beside her.

“thank you, really,” she intertwined her pinky with his. “and i’ll probably end up texting you about every little thing that happens, so i hope you don’t have any important meetings today.”

he laughed at her words, shaking his head. “i don’t, but even if i did, i’d ditch them without a second thought if you needed to rant about all the bitches at school.”

before she could reply, the sound of a loud stereo playing interrupted her.

what shortly followed the sound is what truly made her quiet.

a car packed with a few of yeosang’s friends and the man himself pulled into the parking space beside her brother and her – the boys singing loudly to the music in the back of the car.

without so much as a goodbye to her brother, she grabbed her bag and almost sprinted away from the scene, legs trembling while carrying her toward the building she had fled a mere week prior.

perhaps it was the fact that the boy she wanted to avoid like the plague was meters behind her with the boys who had laughed and snickered at her distraught self a week before, or if she had realized the time it was, she had run with so much power behind each step that she thought she’d collapse when she stopped.

one thing was for sure though.

she was officially late to class.

first period was beyond brutal.

after being openly criticized for being late and being a disturbance to the already commenced class alongside the obvious stares and whispers that followed her as she walked to her seat, it had certainly set the pace for the day she was to face.

the second period wasn’t any better.

nor was lunch.

and neither was third.

but fourth was the one thing she dreaded the most out of her day since she knew the angle kissed boy sat a mere two seats from her in her last period.

she had arrived early, rushing from one class to another without heading to her locker as most students did. she didn’t want to have to drag herself into a classroom that he was already sitting in, and instead, she wanted to sit down and try and blend in before anyone could point and laugh in her direction – something she has had enough of already.

however, her plan would have been flawless if the boy she wished to avoid hadn’t beat her to the classroom first.

yeosang sat in his seat staring blankly at the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. he hadn’t noticed her arrival, or if he did, he didn’t show it, much to her appreciation.

while she was grateful for the boy making her life easier by pretending she didn’t exist, her heart twisted at the sight of him.

the thought of how ruthless he had been a week prior and how he had blatantly thrown her soulmate realization to the ground and stomped on it without care resurfaced. she had thought that the boy would taunt, tease, and make a show out of tearing her heart out again the minute he saw her face. but instead, he ignore her, and acted like she was just another face in the crowd- no, she seemed less than that to him. a gust of wind that he faced as he walked through the halls.

and the ignorance hurt more than she expected.

time rolled by quickly after that.

keeping her head down and focusing on her work had proven to be beneficial. getting lost in the notes she took and the planning she did for an upcoming project had kept her distracted throughout the whole period, and before she knew it, the dismissal of bells had interrupted her thoughts.

collecting her things quickly and fitting into the rush of students as they fled from their teachers yelling reminders at their backs, she thought everything would be smooth sailing from there. yeosang had surely shown his disinterest in her during class, so why would he bother her moving forward, it was one less person, the main person really, that she had to worry about.

the halls were a blur the minute the final bell rang. any quarrels that people had with one another were forgotten since everyone had one common goal : to get home quickly so they could relax.

she had avoided the cruel remarks, snickers, and staredowns in the hall, and for once in her life, she truly appreciated that everyone was so in line once school let out.

it was smooth sailing from there on out. she collected her things from her locker, packed her bag full of school work she had missed from last week and changed out of her school shoes, leaving the slightly heeled uniform shoes behind without a second thought.

she could blame it on the faux hope distilled in her from the ease she experienced during the last period of the day, but she had let her guard down as she walked through the front courtyard like she had done countless times before.

that was her first mistake of the day.

“oh my god, it’s my soulmate!” the shrill voice of song mingi rang out from the group's designated bench in the school courtyard. turning her head to see the boy with dyed hair grip his friend's uniform lapels and pull him close, shaking the boy slightly. “look yunho, it’s my soulmate!” his words trailed off into a laugh, yunho, joining him shortly after.

taking in the scene, she noticed the lack of boys on the bench.

song mingi, jeong yunho, kim hongjoong, and choi san sat on the bench, but the other four were missing.

she lowered her head again, and continued on her walk, ignoring the shouts and footsteps that followed her until she no longer could.

mingi had caught up to her quickly thanks to his long legs, throwing an arm around her shoulders as he steered them back towards the bench. “c’mon now, you shouldn’t ignore people like that,” mingi pouted, bringing the girl down to sit between yunho and him once they reached the bench. “i was just joking, you don’t have to get so riled up over something so small.”

the boys drowned on, taunting the girl to speak, but she kept her mouth sealed, hoping that her lack of response would cause him to grow bored and let her go on her merry way.

but mingi was a patient boy, and he lived for the chase.

she couldn’t find a way out of the situation, and the boys who gathered around weren’t helping her cause either. they talked amongst themselves, pulling her into the conversation when they saw fit even when they knew they wouldn’t get a response.

with her head still faced down, she hadn’t noticed the group of four that approached the table.

while the other three idly took their spots on the bench and fell into the scene easily, yeosang slowed to a stop as he took in the extra body at the table.

his eyes wandered over her tense frame stuck beneath mingi's arm and squished between the two large boys. it was evident to anyone who cared to look that she was uncomfortable. she was shaking like a leaf, her eyes avoiding everyone and everything, and her hands gripped so tight that her knuckles turned white.

“why is she here?” yeosang grunted, not moving from his spot a few paces from the bench.

mingi looked up at the boy's words and grinned. “just getting accounted with your soulmate here,” he pulled her frame further into his side. “thought we should get to know her, y’know?”

yeosang knew mingi wanted to start drama.

the boy wanted to dig the hole you were already in deeper, even though there was no reason to. after all, yeosang had already caused enough trouble as it is, even he himself could admit that.

“why should we?” yeosang grunted with a shrug. “it’s not like it matters anyways – already made it clear i wanted nothing to do with her.”

his words evidently stirred something within her as her shoulders tensed.

mingi noticed this, and despite knowing yeosang wanted nothing more than for the girl to leave, he decided to continue his little game.

“awe did you hear that?” mingi brought his face closer to her own to whisper. “little sangie over there doesn’t want a damn thing to do with you–”

she got up quickly, nearly bashing the boy learning in towards her in the face, and taking a few steps away from the now wide-eyed group.

yeosang was sure the girl was going to yell, scream even, at the boy who sat stupidly with his mouth hung open – the words he was ready to speak dying on his tongue the moment the typically silent girl stood her ground and put space between them.

but she was silent.

just like she had always been.

quite frankly, yeosang hadn’t heard the girl speak before she had to him that week prior.

then again, yeosang couldn’t say he remembers even seeing the girl in his life, something that twisted his gut in an odd way.

without a word, she turned on her heel and walked away from the scene, her eyes burning at the unleashed tears from embarrassment and anger at the same time. she hated how affected she was at the mention of yeosang, even more so at the teasing she underwent from his friends.

the entire week she had spent reflecting, preparing, and calming her nerves were all for nothing.

she knew it would come to pass with time, but she truly didn’t know how much she could take with seeing her soulmate who evidently wanted nothing to do with her stand by and watch his friends torment her.

surely deep down somewhere he cared enough to spare her.

but yeosang didn’t chase, nor did he yell – hell, he hadn’t tried to contact her in any way to apologize for his friend's behaviours.

just another reason to hate the boy she used to call prince charming.

the rest of the week was silent for the most part.

her walks down the hall were slightly easier – fewer stares followed her, whispers weren’t as loud as they were before, and she hadn’t heard as many snickers behind her back as she had grown used to yesterday – but it was unnerving.

drama as public as hers never got swept under the rug as fast as it did.

she had seen her classmates force kids to transfer schools because of the harassment they received for things less than what she went through, so to be able to walk down the halls, sit through her classes, and eat lunch in peace… was odd, to say the least.

yeosang hadn’t said anything to her during the last period, and while one part of her wanted him two, she also didn’t expect much from the boy. she had gotten her hopes up one time too many already.

she avoided the courtyard once the bell rang.

it was the fastest route home for her to take since it saved her from having to walk around the block, but she was playing it safe for once. the last thing she wanted was to have a run-in with mingi or the other boys – but when she thought of it, none of them had even looked her way in the slightest during the day.

again, it was odd.

the walk was quiet for the most part. a few groups of students who were also stuck walking in the rain occupied the sidewalk with her. many students were able to bypass walking at all seeing as their parents would pick them up or they’d catch a ride with a classmate. the roads were quiet as well – minimal traffic due to the weather, but enough to provide background noise.

it was peaceful compared to some other places she could be.

school was never quiet, nor did she expect it to be. students packed each and every corner of the school, so even the quietest of conversations added to the noise.

home wasn’t entirely calm either with how her parents loved to play their shows loudly during the night, or the sound of her dad working in the garage.

her walks home were a slice of quietness that she adored.

no one bothered her, she walked alone for the most part, and people kept their distance – it was perfect.

until it wasn’t.

the sound of tires on gravel was hard to ignore – paired with its proximity, was worrisome as well.

she wasn’t one to jump to conclusions at any given moment, but it was a given that the minute you hear a car slow down next to you, the chances of abduction were high, so who could blame her for tensing the way she did, or the way she started to walk faster.

the sound followed her – whoever was driving it made no move to park or call out for her. she was too anxious to look back anyways, so she kept her eyes trained forward, but kept an ear open, waiting for the signal of an upcoming attack.

“jesus, you’re gonna make me talk aren’t you?” a voice called from what she presumed to be the following car.

at the familiarity of the voice, her head snapped toward the car.

a scowling yeosang greeted her, his window rolled down, allowing the rain to drip into his treasured car. she couldn’t see any of the other seats occupied, meaning his friend group wasn’t able to poke fun at her drenched form.

“what?” she tilted her head in confusion, not quite knowing what to say in response to the boy's words.

he rolled his eyes, nodding towards the passenger seat. “just get in the damn car,” yeosang focused his eyes on the steering wheel, not bothering to look at her any longer.

perhaps it was his attitude, or perhaps it was the fact that the last place she wanted to be stuck in was yeosang’s passenger seat ( read : maybe a mix of both ) but she found herself scoffing at his words and continuing to walk away from him.

she walked several more paces before she heard the sound of his car switching gears, and the sound of his car's tires speeding to pull up beside her again.

yeosang kept his pace with the girl, halfway leaning out of his car as he tried to reason with her.

“listen, just get in the car,” he sighed. “i’m trying to be nice and you can’t even accept the offer?”

she continued to ignore him.

he sighed, leaning back into his car before speeding off.

her shoulders sank in relief, watching his car drive away, only to stop in her tracks once again as she saw his car pull into a driveway only a few meters up, successfully blocking her walkway.

“will you stop being a brat and get into the car?” yeosang gave his best attempt at a puppy dog look, internally cringing at the thought of going through the trouble for a girl.

then again, she wasn’t just a girl.

while she looked down her nose at the boy, she knew she had no other options.

he was going to keep annoying her until she agreed anyways.

sighing, she shrugged her bag off of her shoulders and shoved it into the hand of the boy who had it held out of his window in waiting, before hurrying around his car and sliding into the passenger seat.

if she had thought she liked silence before, she was dead wrong currently.

upon getting into yeosang’s car, she thought she would be forced into a conversation with the boy, but she was dead wrong. his insistence and bugging had turned into ignorance. he hadn’t said a word to her since she had sat down in the passenger seat – and in all honesty, she thinks she would have rathered listened to the boy throw insults her way than sit in silence.

she had said her address when they had pulled out of the driveway, but other than that had let the silence drown on, only the faint sound of the radio playing in the background filling the space.

yeosang hadn’t spared the street he was supposed to turn on a single glance, instead, passing by it quickly – his mind giving him the directions to the place he had actually intended on going to.

she had noticed this as well, and while she didn’t want to make a scene, she found herself turning to the boy in question, the words of complaint dying on her tongue as he gave her a look out of the corner of his eye – a look that read ‘don’t ask.’

the silence continued to engulf the two as they drove – the scenery around the two still familiar, which brought a sense of comfort to her.

the sound of his signal light blinking snapped her out of her thoughts and drew her eyes to the building to which they had pulled up.

yeosang was up and out of the car quickly, not waiting for the girl as he walked ahead towards the entrance of the building.

she hesitated in getting out of the car – the sight of the diner in front of her making her heart speed up just a notch more than she would’ve liked to admit.

he stopped at the door, looking back with a drawn look as he signalled for her to follow.

why he had brought her there was something she wondered all the way to the corner booth of the diner.

the silence followed them within the small restaurant as well, but yeosang seemed adamant about trying to start a conversation without actually creating it himself. he was more awkward than she had initially thought he was.

yeosang fidgeted with the menu, tapped his fingers on the underside of the table along to the music playing from the jukebox in the background, and made eye contact every few seconds – every action of his seemingly trying to urge her to say something.

but the two were both dead set on making the other talk first.

so, the silence had continued, and continued, and continued, until the server walked up to the table, successfully popping the little bubble of challenge the two of you had formed.

“what can i get you two today,” she talked with a smile, one that was sincere and rarely seen on someone who dealt with half of the shit they dealt with while working in the food business.

she hadn’t been there a lot, but she had been there enough to see the scenes students from both her school and other schools within the area cause with the staff of the establishment.

“can i just get the chicken tenders with a side of fries please?” yeosang spoke first.

while she wanted to poke fun at his order, she knew she would end up ordering the same thing.

“can i also get that please?” she spoke lightly, aware of yeosang’s sharp eyes on her as she ordered.

the waiter nodded with a smile, eyes examining the pair in great detail as her eyes wrinkled – the space was odd, but she could sense something between them. something that they didn’t seem to sense themselves.

“i’ll get right on that for you two darlings, if you need anything else, just shout for me and i’ll be here in a jiffy,” she sent a wink towards the skittish girl, her smile widening as she could tell the small action caused her to flush. before she fully left, she nodded toward the boy, hoping her message travelled to him successfully.

be nice to her, boy.

yeosang nodded his head back to the waitress and watched as she wandered to the back with their orders, silence returning yet again – yeosang, however, was set on trying to shift the mood to the best of his ability.

“so you're copying me now, huh?” yeosang poked fun at the girl's order, expecting to earn a laugh, but was sadly rewarded with a scowl sent his way. so much for lightening the mood.

he watched as she averted her eyes, no doubt wanting to look anywhere else but the boy's direction. he hadn’t meant to make her mad or uncomfortable, but perhaps it was just his own fault for not seeing how the nature of his words could be mistaken after what had happened that week prior.

the boy sighed, “look i didn’t mean it like that, i just meant- y’know…” he trailed off, eyes trying to catch the girl's eyes with the hope that she’d understand what he was trying to say, but she kept her eyes trained on the parking lot. “i just wanted to say that i thought it was funny that we ordered the same thing,” yeosang huffed, leaning back against his own seat and looking away.

he was trying and it was evident to her, but she couldn’t help but doubt his playfulness and kindness after everything he had said and done in the past to her.

yeosang was cruel, she was sure of it – but if that was the case, why’d he go out of his way to get her out of the rain and drive the two of them to the small yet cozy diner?

while she wanted to stick to her silent and broody personality in front of the boy, she felt bad for dampening his own mood since he was simply trying to make conversation – even though the conversation could have started off on a better note.

“y’know you’re the last person i wanted to see today?” she spoke, watching as yeosang’s eyes filtered back to hers. “after that day, i never wanted to come back to school – i didn’t want to see you at all and yet… here i am,” she let out a dry laugh. “sitting across from the person who broke my heart the minute after i found my soulmate.”

she hated how her voice cracked as she spoke, but the tears in her eyes never fell – she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction ever again.

“but despite how much i hate your face, your name, and the fact that i’m tied to you whether i like it or not… i still can’t help but be happy to be around you,” the boy listened without interrupting, his own eyes growing glossy at her words. “in some sick and twisted way, the universe is still telling me that no matter what, you’re the one,” she smiled at him. “and i hate you for that.”

yeosang felt like his throat would close at any moment.

that his final breath would be painful, and his lungs would burn as they tried to fight for just another ounce of air so he could live to make it up to her.

to make up for the pain he had put her through.

that he was still putting her through.

the waitress had made her way up to the table once again, setting down both plates and their drinks. she didn’t say much, respecting the fact that even if she had, the two teary-eyed teens would likely not be able to speak back without choking on their words.

she didn’t make a move to touch her food, and neither had he. the two of them sat in silence once again and just looked at one another – looked at one another as if it was the last time they’d see each other.

it had taken them over an hour to finish their food in silence – both too scared and worked up to say anything else to the other. despite this, she still got into the passenger seat of his car and allowed him to drive her home.

the ride was quiet like before, but held an air of sadness and desperation in it – both had so much to say to the other but were beyond too scared, and too tired to speak.

yeosang wanted to start over.

he wanted to tell her about the things he’d gone through, what role models of love he had growing up, and the way he had been raised to see love as nothing but a weakness. but he didn’t want pity – didn’t want her to think he was using his childhood as an excuse for his vile behaviour.

his childhood was rough, yes, but he didn’t have the right to treat anyone like that.

to treat anyone the way he had treated you.

she, on the other hand, wanted to tell him how much she hated him.

how she hated his existence, how she hated his friends, and how she hated how he ruined the one thing in life that she had looked forward to since she was a child.

yeosang had ruined the concept of love for her, and yet while she wanted to cuss him out for eternity and more about it, she also wanted to let him in and give him another chance.

love made people foolish – something she only started to comprehend now that she was experiencing it for herself.

loving yeosang was foolish.

his car rolled to a stop outside of the girl's house, the roar of the engine now calming to a quiet lull that complimented the sound of rain hitting the roof and windshield of his car.

grabbing her bag from the backseat, she pulled it into her lap, looking at the boy for one last moment as if to give him one more chance to speak his mind.

she wanted him to be like all of those boys in the movies that she had grown up watching. the boys who would confess their love, show their intense spiral of emotions, and the boys who would kiss the girl with soft lips, only pulling away to take a breath.

but he hadn’t.

yeosang couldn’t even bring himself to look at the girl who looked to him for a response.

she nodded at his lack of acknowledgment before getting out of the car and into the pouring rain, slamming his car door behind her.

her heart hurt, but she hadn’t expected anything less seeing as who she was in company with.

in a matter of seconds, she was soaked to the bone – hair clung to her face, uniform clung to her like a second skin, and papers in her bag no doubt ruined. she didn’t look back, knowing yeosang’s car was far off in the distance now, probably going to see his friends and tell them all about the new feat he had pulled off with the soulmate he could care less about.

yeosang watched as the girl turned her back to him, not bothering to look back to see if yeosang was going to make a move to say something, to stop her from walking away from him, or to chase after her like some lost puppy.

never in his life had he expected himself to fall so quickly into the role of a fool who chased after love.

and yet here he was,

his door slammed much as her own had, and he paid no mind to the dirty puddles that soaked his shoes to the point of ruin. he doubted he would regret the blotches of brown and specs of dirty that coated his pristine white shoes later on anyways.

“y/n,” yeosang didn’t yell, didn’t cry out like all those love-sick fools did in the movies, but he spoke quietly. loud enough to hear over the rain, but not loud enough to draw out attention from the neighbouring houses. “can we talk?”

she had half the mind to scoff at the boy and continue on towards her front door, but she also knew she sought out the conversation as well. she feared being hurt once again by the boy she once thought of as prince charming, but then again, what more harm could he do that he hasn’t already done?

all he needed was a minuscule nod for him to continue.

“i’m sorry,” he started. “for everything, truly, i am sorry,” yeosang took a deep breath, thinking of what he could possibly say to make her understand his brain, even though he couldn’t quite understand it himself. “nothing i say or do can change the things i did the day we both found out about the whole soulmate thing,” he looked to the side in thought. “and i know i’m far from the person you deserve – i’m not even in the same universe, let’s be honest,” he chuckled dryly. “but i want to start over – right from the beginning.”

yeosang expected nothing from the girl, but he had hoped for some sort of acceptance.

maybe another one of those small nods of acknowledgment that she gave him and her peers, something he had only noticed after she started to tune everything and everyone out.

or perhaps he wanted to hear her speak – lord knows he had long since heard her speak to him with anything but hesitance, fear, or anger.

and truthfully, yeosang would have taken a harsh slap to the cheek if it meant any sort of answer from her.

but she had done nothing – no nod, no words, and no slap. just blank eyes staring into his own hopeful ones.

yeosang had cut his losses moments later, accepting the fact that he– no, his father, who had brainwashed him into thinking love was a weakness, was the cause of his soulmate, the one person in the world who could truly understand him, to start pushing him away.

his shoulders drooped in shame and under the weight of his rain-soaked clothes and his chin fell into his chest as he tried to fathom the pain in his chest.

so this is what it feels like?

he laughed through his tears, bringing his eyes up to meet the girl's eyes for the last time and offering her a small, broken smile.

“i’m sorry.”

he turned his back to her as he walked back towards his car.

stupid, stupid, boy, his brain cursed himself. you have no right to pout and to whine, after all, it was you who pushed her away so roughly in the beginning.

“yeosang…” her voice was soft as it called out, fading out in hesitance at the end.

he halted his steps but didn’t turn on his heel to face her, knowing the wave of self-deprecating voices would flood in tenfold. but he had stopped and waited, giving the girl time to collect her thoughts – gather the strength to yell at him or come up with some silver-tongued insult.

the memories of the night flashed behind her eyelids, the boys who pulled over to pick her up despite it being out of the way, the sight of a vulnerable yeosang who tried his best to start a conversation in the small diner, and the boy who had paid for her food without complaint or annoyance.

he was trying the whole night, and she had ignored it, wanting to see how far the boy was truly willing to go to show his desperation for forgiveness – for a second chance.

“would you like to come in?” she twiddled with the buttons on her uniform. “y’know… get out of the rain until it settles?”

yeosang and herself knew he could simply drive himself back home if he was seeking out cover from the rain, but the offer was there for other reasons.

his mind translated her words without much hassle.

would you like to start over?

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