amoré

You had been singing for the Rogue club for about a year now almost, a well manicured spectacle to keep the rather intimidating clientele entertained. A friend of a friend referred you as a new entertainment for the club; thinking you would be open to accepting because they knew you were running away from something, and the Rogue was well secure enough for you to go into hiding.

The initial contract was two months, you knew the risks of staying in one place for too long. But as you slowly learned that the Rogue was no ordinary nightclub, it dragged on for as long as it did now. It seemed your departure was not entirely clearly written in the future. It seemed a better option to settle. To stay.

Being a spectacle at the Rogue meant you were part of an ecosystem that offered you protection— as your coworkers at the club would like to tell you. This place was neutral territory, though plenty mobsters and gangsters of different circles patronized the joint - there were absolutely no scuffles, no fights, just quiet drinking, smoking, and minding each other’s business when the shows were on and for as long as they were in the club’s premises.

That implied that since you were the jazz singer at the Rogue, it was out of anybody’s best interest to pry. No one knew your real name, no one would bother to look for you when the sun rose when you were not in your fancy glitters and furs. You would hide in obscure anonymity, only to be known on stage as such. Although some did attempt to act on their interests, you had always so kindly let them down before anything could happen and be unearthed.

New faces came and went, some faces too familiar, plenty men in their tailored coats and hats. All of them just faces and ears that looked and listened, none that caused you any particular trouble. Though they were a topic of conversation among your workers, consistently feeding your own ears with the propriety and the reputation of all your old and new patrons. It was simply enough to be familiar, but there needed to be a clear distance if you wanted to stay longer— if you wanted to be safe longer. 

The man that has been here for five Saturdays straight though, it seemed he was far different. His suit jacket always hanging behind his chair, making him stand out in a crowd of men who would rather sweat in their suits - while he seemed illuminated white his white button up shirt exposed. Or whatever undershirt he decided to wear.

He had a long gold embellished cane that leaned lazily on his table, matching the large golden ring he wore on his pinky finger. An accessory that shone under the light that made you squint only just a little when he held his whiskey glass so close to his face. 

Another thing about him was that man was tall, his frame making it absolutely obvious even if you had only seen him from tables away. His neck craning to entertain whispered conversation from the company he frequented. Company that you did know well from stories, and because they were rather regularly courteous leaving you tips after your sets. 

But the thing that intrigued you was how gorgeous this man was. Something about how everything in his features perfectly framed this image of attraction, and you knew by the way his eyebrow raised in acknowledgement when any other female stole so much of a glance that he knew he was every single thing of appealing. 

Maybe that’s why you had to be careful when you felt yourself looking at him for too long.

With one of your hands perched on your hip, and another daintily wrapped around the ribbon microphone, you wait for the band’s music to wistfully fade out with the final notes of your voice.

Your set for the night was finally done, and while this typically made you sad, it felt like quite a relief these past five weeks.

With any other attractive man watching you on stage before, it felt like a gift to be the performer on stage catching their attention. But this tall, beautiful man’s face just looking up at you from the crowd made you uncomfortable. Even as your eyes met from far away, the feeling in your stomach that pinched at your sides was not a good sign.

You were an artist, sure. Did it mean you exaggerated each feeling that ran through your mind? Absolutely. You could never ever mistake the feeling of gravitating toward someone, and you knew that not knowing more about this man was the safest choice. 

There was a certainty in you that just knew you’d be absolutely in trouble if you tried getting closer and if you tried so much so as to get to know more.

“Thank you very much, you’ve all been such darlings tonight.” You finally say in your most sultry voice, claps echo from across the room. 

From behind the mist of tobacco smoke, you see that he is the only one not applauding. A cigar on his lips as he puffed out enough smoke, it almost felt like cheating how it exaggerated his handsome features. His long curly hair just still and lying perfectly on his head, much like the stone cold look on his face.

Trying to gracefully exit, you make your way down the stage toward the table at the side dedicated to the jazz band’s ensemble.

Jennie, a waitress at the Rouge that you were friends with, heads straight to your table with a drink in her hands. 

Straight whiskey in a frozen glass, the frosted appearance unmistakable - and the smokey scent almost immediately recognizable. 

“It’s from Mr. Kim,” She points to the table where the tall stranger sat, but all the men at his table were all caught up in conversation, “you have a new fan, huh?” 

You roll your eyes. “Well it’s the least he could do, he couldn’t even be bothered to put his hands together to clap.” You say.

“He’s just not the type to do that.” Jennie says, and you quirk a brow - now knowing that she knew something of this man. 

“How do you know that?”

She sighs, “just be careful, okay?” Jennie walks off now.

Your eyes look around to follow your friend who now disappeared among all the tables, but instead you find yourself making eye contact with this… Mr. Kim, who now had a name, albeit the only one you knew was a last one.

He raises his own glass, signaling for you to do so with the glass of whiskey he just bought you. It’s only common courtesy for you to raise your own glass, offering a smile as a thank you with your eyes glued in eye contact with his. How you dreaded how this made you melt, but you could not let any sign of weakness show.

The two of you slowly sipping whiskey, not going unnoticed by the other sets of eyes from his table.

This was not you being careful.

“What is all this?” You ask Minnie, who was in charge of prettying everyone up at the club. She ran the large dressing room at the back, and she’d probably be the person to know where the huge flower arrangement sitting on your designated vanity came from.

“Mr. Kim sent it over, Vernon delivered it when we were hauling in the new dresses for the season. Summer’s getting hot.” She responds, not seeming at all concerned about the gift sent to you, only rambling on about stressing about an entirely new wardrobe.

At this point, she was so used to men sending you chocolates, flowers, stuffed bears, and strange objects of affection. This was just another pre-Saturday night occurrence.

To you this was not anything regular, wondering what this Mr. Kim wanted in return of your affections— wondering if this was the same Mr. Kim you had been dreading yet looking forward to seeing again. You now did know that Vernon delivered these to the club, and that same Mr. Kim surrounded himself constantly with the guys from SVT. 

‘Songbird. Share a drink again with me tonight, but I prefer you being in the same table as me. - M.’ 

A note placed atop the elaborate bouquet read, confirming the identity of this Mr. Kim.

That night when you sing on stage, your eyes try to wander around, looking for the man who bought you a drink and sent you flowers - but he did not take the same seat at the same table. No man taking off his suit jacket and smoking his cigars, no sight of him at all.

It shouldn’t surprise you that men of this line of work were not men of their words; coming and going was a part of the business, and relationships were often their flaw.

“Thank you very much, you’ve all been such darlings tonight.” It’s the same spiel you had, waiting for the applause to die down and the stage light to dim before you make your way to your table once again.

There’s a vague ghost of where the stage light burned through your cornea, your vision still a little bit of an obstructed mess - seeing the circle of light each time you blinked.

So you resorted to keeping your head low in hopes that the low light would help your vision go back to normal. Only a few minutes of this and you knew it would cure this temporary issue.

Around the ground where you focus your attention, you see the outline of a gold plated cane. You wonder if you’re imagining Mr. Kim’s cane, since you felt a deep disappointment at the loss of his presence for the night - especially because he did ask you to share a drink. More so, it did make you expect him.

“Are you feeling well songbird?” A hand is placed on your shoulders, the sensation warm, but somehow the confirmation that he was there made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

“I am, thank you.” You place a hand on your chest, and your vision has in fact cleared - and you’re trying to act as though you’re well confident enough to face this man.

Except you felt nervous, maybe a little scared.

“Did you get your flowers?” He asks, cooly pulling out the chair from across you.

“Yes I did, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” You look up to see him clearly now, expecting to be less wooed by how he appeared, but he looked so much better up close than he did from tables away when you were on stage. 

It was only really unfair that someone was crafted so gorgeously.

“I bet you get flowers all the time, songbird.” He says with a grin on his face, “has anyone been so impressive for you to accept sharing a drink or are you this courteous to every man who wants to pin you down all for themselves?” This Mr. Kim asks, commanding a raised hand, and Jennie comes just in time to give him a glass of whiskey and you a martini.

“I suppose I do receive little gifts now and then, I don’t feel the need to lie to you. But I don’t regularly get asked to share a drink, and if I do - I turn them down immediately.” You tell him honestly, and you can tell that he seems pleased.

He smiles, and you notice how his canines frame it.

“Good.” He nods before he takes a sip of his preferred alcohol. There’s a moment of silence that swallows you before he speaks, starting with a click of his tongue. “I hear the way all these dogs talk about you like you’re some piece of meat they want to devour.” He scans around the room and there’s an almost scary glint in his eyes when he does so.

“I don’t mind what they say or what they think,” you smile the sweetest smile you can, “I simply sing for the club and that’s it.” You take the martini glass and start to take a tiny sip.

“I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of asking which drink you usually got.” He points at the cocktail you had.

Figures. 

“Only if it means you were being attentive when you asked.” 

“I can be more attentive, if you find that what I say or what I think matters to you.” He’s challenging you now, wondering out loud what you meant earlier.

In the world you two are in, the best and safest thing for you to do is simply be passive and let things be the way that they present themself to. But something in the way that the tone in his muscles build through his suit jacket as he waits impatiently for your answer has you so tempted to tease him.

You tilt your head to the side, knowing how your hair would effortlessly follow suit with the movement. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

He knew you knew what he meant— you did, and he can only huff out in almost frustrated laughter.

“I’m interested in you, and I want you to feel the same. Or should I spell that out for you in case you want to know how that checks out?” 

It’s your turn to smile and giggle, and it breaks whatever tension this man had written on his face. He can swear that it’s the most pleasing sound he’s heard.

“You can prove this interest by giving me a name first, you know. It’s so extremely difficult to be sincere.” 

“It’s Mingyu,” He answers almost too eagerly, “I know you’re Y/N.”

You get too lost in his eyes for you to notice how everybody at the club had noticed another man in your table.

It feels like time circles down the drain; Mingyu ordered several rounds more, and the night died down with patrons slowly leaving the club. Only the two of you keeping the momentum of laughter and conversation - getting to know each other but not getting to know too much. 

“It’s getting awfully late.” Jennie interrupts a joke you were laughing at, and it was a clear warning to see that only the two of you were occupying the club now. She was trying to be protective, you knew it in the tone of her voice and the way she fearlessly eyed your companion. 

“Uh… yes… we’ll have to wrap this up then.” You try to straighten the way you sit as you say this, but you know that the gin and the vermouth have probably shot up straight into your brain and somehow your balance is not as poised as it was earlier this evening.

Mingyu goes out of his way to catch you, you feel his large hands graze the exposed skin of your shoulders. 

“I’ll take care of her Jen, I swear it on my life.” Mingyu tells your friend, and if you weren’t so disoriented you would probably ask how they knew each other; the nickname not going unnoticed. 

“You better swear it on your life.” She only says, turning to you now, “please just be safe Y/N.” Then she walks off with a tray of your empty glasses.

“You’re a bit tipsy now aren’t you?” Mingyu asks you, and now you’re hyperaware of the warmth of his palm still pressed up on your skin.

“Maybe.” You smile as you draw out the word and he laughs. 

“You are.” 

“I am not. I’m a little drunk is what I am.” You say, raising one index finger.

“I would be anything but a gentleman if I let you go home in this state alone,” he tries to explain but there’s a playful glint in your eyes from the intoxication and it prompts him to be forward, “can I please take you home tonight, songbird?”

You can only laugh again.

“Nothing funny, just me bringing a girl safely back into her home is all.” He explains and you nod. 

“Just please... let me get my things in the dressing room.”

That’s how you end up alone at first, dizzy as you tried navigating about the familiar space, hoping that you could get to your own vanity— but that was proving to be a difficult feat. The sound reverberates when you accidentally hold on to some clothing rack, the metal bumping into someone else’s vanity. 

This alerts Mingyu who has been patiently waiting just by the doorframe of the dressing room, who swoops in to save you just in time from tripping further into landing somewhere else.

“Martinis should not be your drink, songbird.” He comments, still cautiously placing a hand on your shoulder as you turn into mush. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have been carried away.” You try to blame him, but you ease up on trying to tease him any further. Your temples felt like any of the veins were just about to explode, and your heart was thumping so hard in the confines of your chest - but you knew that had little to do with the alcohol and more so the proximity of this man.

You’re lucky he knows exactly what the flower arrangement he sent you looks like, as it looked so elegantly out of place in this crowded dressing space. It’s almost a relief when he steadies you onto the vanity you were hovering over, quickly making his way to what he presumed to be your little area. 

“Are these your belongings?” He’s able to pick out the medium black purse that definitely does belong to you. You simply nod to say yes.

Mingyu picks out the beige mink coat that’s splayed across the chair of your vanity, he carefully places it over both your shoulders. The weight of the thing making it stable enough not to fall onto the floor, but he takes his time patting it down and you can feel his breath on you.

You don’t know what drives you to do it, but it takes a little bit of effort to tiptoe enough to get at the level of his height when you place a kiss on his lips. 

Expecting your affections to be reciprocated, it sobers you quickly when you pull away to find that he presses his lips into a line - not at all responsive and not looking the slightest bit impressed by the kiss you had given him.

“Thank you.” You just say, coughing to the side to avoid his gaze as you take your purse from one of his hands, and you make a hasty exit to the door. 

That was embarrassing.

Not much is said on the walk out. He tries to walk beside you, but you maintain a good half arm’s length away from him when he tries to come close. 

“I don’t live far from the Rouge.” You speak up, now you’re completely in control of your motor movements and you’re sure you’ll remember each awkward step the next day. Though, it was quite early into the morning now that the sun could come spilling in from the shadows at any moment. You were familiar with the light breeze of dawn.

The cobblestone street of the neighborhood made each click of your heels reverberate through the other stone buildings. The Rouge was tucked around here somewhere, in the mayhem of alleyways intersecting through one way or another - a perfect place for the kind of people it housed and the people that visited it.

Easy to get in, get lost, and hide— but difficult to get out if you did not know the area well. 

Mingyu lights a cigarette when you reach the end of your street, only a few meters now. Silence wraps around the two of you, the cold an unwelcome addition to the mix. 

It doesn’t feel like he’s watching you, but you know that he’s attentively following your movements. A turn to your right and you reach the cozy apartment complex you resided in.  

The lobby is empty, but the reception desk your doorman is properly lit - and you notice the steam from a coffee cup half full. You should consider it luck that your doorman is not present to see your companion; heaven knows what Mingyu’s reputation was.

“I’ll walk you up.” Mingyu says as you fiddle with your fingers, standing right in front of the elevator doors. You’d hoped he would have left you there, and maybe you could deal with the rejection of the kiss much easier. 

You only nod.

The elevator is empty, and you make it a point to stand in the corner as far away from him as the confined space could allow you. But the smell of cigarette smoke is oh-so present, and even if you lean hard enough on the hand railings you know that you can’t escape him.

You reach the top-most, sixth, floor rushing to walk to your front door. He hovers behind you as you slip your keys in the knob, ignoring his proximity. 

“Y/N.” You can hear him say softly, and you ignore him still. The lock finally clicks, and you’re able to go inside turning on the lights as you do so.

Walking into the small hallway at the entrance of your apartment, you do not expect Mingyu to come inside. He swiftly takes one of your hands to stop you from walking away any further and his other hand locks you in place as he presses you gently agains the wall to face him.

“Please don’t tell me you’re interested if you don’t even want me kissing you.” You squeak, noticing how hard he’s staring at you.

“What’s a gentleman to do when he knows his lady is intoxicated when she kisses him?” He responds, holding a hand palm-facing the wall just above your head. If being cornered was a literal feeling, then he had a great way of making you feel that.

“You’re just saying that.” You reason.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He bites back.

“And what if I want you to?” You challenge him and you can tell he’s holding back by the way he inches closer. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, songbird.” He whispers so close to the side of your neck, inhaling sharply. “That’s— see, this will get you in trouble.” He comments.

This gets you genuinely curious. “What will?” 

“This perfume.” He says, head lower and you can feel his breath fan over your collarbones.

“What about my perfume?” You try moving closer to him.

“You smell like bergamot and basil.” He mumbles, “and it’s been a pain in the ass smelling how sweet you are all evening.” 

“Is that why you didn’t like me kissing you?” You ask him, and you can tell he’s not in the mood for sarcasm.

“That’s why I didn’t, yes.” He agrees, but before you can protest he speaks again.

“Do you know how hard I want to do this properly? To impress you? Want to get to know you and let the veil of mystery wear off before I can even hold your hand— let alone kiss you on your cheek?” He sounds frustrated now, looking up to meet your gaze.

“Tell me what’s getting in the way of that then.”

“You!” Mingyu’s hand meets the wall behind you again, “you’re so fucking tempting. I can’t even act like a good man to you right now because you’re getting in my head and I can’t take it.” 

You gently place your own hand just above the nape of his neck covered by the overgrowth of his medium length hair, pushing his head closer to yours that there’s barely any space left to breathe.

“Let’s just skip all your gentlemanly scheming this time.” You say and he swallows on nothing. “I’m letting you have your way with me now, be nice to me later.”

That’s all it takes for him to kiss you, impatiently dropping your purse off on the ground when you turn into jelly as both his hands cup your face. You moan as he grunts, taking off his suit jacket as you navigate getting your thick coat off in time.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath for the few milliseconds that his lips are not locked into yours, your tongue slipping in lewdly as you’ve now decided you’re making out while unbuttoning his long sleeved dress shirt.

Mingyu sucks on your tongue, earning a quick gasp from you as he begins to knead at your breasts. You feel your nipples hardening beneath the cotton of your bra, and you want him to know how aroused he’s making you - placing your hands atop the hands he’s using to feel you up you make him touch you harder.

“Come on, get me naked.” You challenge him, now seeing how blown out and lipstick stained his own swollen lips looked.

“Not here.” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll fuck you here against this wall next time, but I want to be sweet to you the first time, got that?” 

“Oh you’re such a romantic, aren’t you?” You trace a hand over his bare chest, ogling at the rows of muscle just proudly framing his torso.

“And you my dear, are such a little minx.” He finds a way to carry you by cradling you in his arms, back to kissing each other because neither of you can get enough. 

“First door past the living room.” You manage to say and he complies, opening the door to your bedroom.

Mingyu places you sitting gently on the edge of your double bed, allowing you to watch him. He discards the long sleeved dress shirt, removing each sleeve and leaving it on the floor. 

God he was hot. He was so insanely hot. 

“Am I impressive enough?” He taunts you again in this long game of teasing.

“I don’t know, maybe I need to see more.”

Mingyu scoffs.

“C’mon, let’s be fair. You have to tempt me.” He demands, the way that he’s staring at you is making you feel so small.

“Take it off me then,” you tug at the hem of your dress, “don’t you want to impress me?” You lean, knowing very well that the valley between your breasts will come into perfect view.

“Careful now.” 

“Don’t you want to show me how much you want me?” A smirk forms on your face and he looks like he’s too impatient to care, unbuckling his leather belt now while making his way to you.

“Arms up, baby.” He commands and you smile in a daze. Mingyu tugs so gently yet so forcefully at the silk dress that he’s able to leave you only in your underwear. You lean back, using both hands to gain some stabilization as you sit.

All you can do is focus on the way he’s getting rid of his pants, noticing the huge bulge forming underneath his boxers— but all he can do is mutter several ‘fuck’s under his breath as he admires your body. 

“Please touch me, Mingyu.” 

“You don’t know what you’re in for when you say that, songbird.” He comes close to unclasp your bra, setting your breasts free for him to touch. Your nipples going hard at the harsh intrusion of the cold air of the room, but even more so the arousal from the situation. Before you can get anymore impatient, he sucks on one of your breasts - circling his tongue around your areola. 

And so your moans flood the room, gasping at his fingers toying with your clit over your panties.  Trying to desperately please you, get the sounds out from your pretty little mouth, wanting to get you all naked for him. 

He decides he cannot wait anymore, and he takes your panties off so quickly that you gasp when his tongue swipes a lick over your pussy. Attaching his mouth to suck on your hardened sensitive clit, he brings a finger slowly into your hole. A squelching sound ripping through your load moans, and this makes him excited.

You were so fucking wet for him.

He becomes more playful now with his movements, the suction of his mouth so evidently focused at which angles brought out the most reactions - and the addition of an extra finger entering you, curling up to find the spot that was just sharply hitting your pleasure. The build up is sudden, because he knows what he’s doing.

The impressive thing when he makes you cum over his fingers and on his mouth the first time, is how he manages to keep going despite your desperate want to free from his motions. Even just for a moment, you wanted to take a break from the irregular spasms of pleasure of your orgasm - but he holds you down only with one muscular arm.

Then he makes you cum twice, three times. Your arousal dripping as far as his wrists.

“Fuuuck, you’re so beautiful, songbird.” He admires how you catch up with your own breathing, checked out of any energy you had left - but you knew you didn’t want it to end here.

He’d be content with things taking a halt here, honored to have given pleasure to your woman, but you suddenly grab the hand he used to finger you relentlessly— sticking his fingers in your mouth like a fucking lollipop. It’s such a lewd sight, and it impossibly makes his cock even harder than he thought it could. 

When you lick his fingers clean of your own arousal, you look him so dead in the eyes. “Can I please suck your cock?” You ask, although surprised when you feel him through his underwear - how massively long and thick he felt already.

Given any other time than now, he would say yes. Already listing off the times he’d want you to suck him dry, but now, he was impatient. 

“Some other time baby, I need to be inside you.” He gives you permission to take his boxers off and you do.

Your suspicions are proven to be an underestimation of how big he is, because he was really - intimidatingly huge. You mindlessly stroke his cock, lubricating his length with the precum already leaking from his tip. 

“Oh, God. Mingyu, I need you inside me please.” You say, and his face contorts into that of a wince from the sudden pleasure of your stroking and the dirty dirty words coming out of your mouth. “Need you to stuff me full.”

“That’s it.” He comments, using his strength to manhandle you onto your back - you lay on your bed with your arms pinned above your head, him on top of you. Your legs naturally spreading open to accommodate his body just settling in the middle. 

“My pretty little thing has a dirty little mouth,” he traces your lips, a darkened look in his eyes. Mingyu begins stroking himself now, lining his thick tip to the entrance of your pussy and it already stings. “Saying all that in your sweet voice too, telling me to stuff you full.” 

Before he can enter you he suddenly curses under his breath. “Fuck, baby, do you have any condoms?” He looks like his mood is almost ruined as his hair flips back in frustration, but you steady him back by placing your hands on his broad shoulders so he can look at you.

“It’s fine, I’m on birth control, and I’m clean. If you’re clean and you don’t mind being inside me raw, that’s fine by me.” You explain, and even the way that you even mention him being inside you riles him up again. 

“I am, you have no idea how many times we have to get tested in this line of work.” He mutters. “Needle exposure.” 

You lean upward quickly to place a peck on his lips.

“Come on, don’t make me wait. I told you I need you to stuff my pussy full of your cock.” It’s the sweetest dirtiest thing he hears when the melody of your voice mixes with your choice of words.

“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you, sweet songbird.” Is all he says when he guides half of his length inside you, and the pulsating sensation of your own pussy accommodating the stretch of your walls makes it feel like he did not prepare you enough. 

Tears well in your eyes, not expecting it to hurt this much - but not expecting it to feel this good either. 

“God, oh dear God, you’re so big— Mingyu.” It’s a mixture of a sob and a moan. You can’t even focus on how hard he’s staring at you, absorbing each staggered breath and how your pussy lips seem to swell at his cock still pushing in.

“You can take it baby, I know you can.” He pushes in some more until he bottoms out, reaching a hilt inside you. It’s so hard for him to control himself because you’re so wet and warm, and so fucking tight. 

But for you, he can be patient.

It’s you that initiates the first movements, lifting your own hips and hooking your legs just behind his ass - almost like locking yourself to him.

For him, you cannot wait anymore.

You push your hips back only a little, moving just to feel the sensation of him rocking inside of you.

“We’re a little impatient, aren’t we?” He grunts as you continue, frustrated that you can’t move far enough to get his cock to plunge into you far and as deep as you know he can. 

“Puh—uh-please!” You’re frustrated, and he doesn’t miss how your brows knit and your lips part in such a lewd fucking plea. In fact, his view of your breasts delicately jouncing as your try to move and get any friction from your lewd attachment is riling him up more than you realize.

Mingyu abruptly digs his fingers into your thighs, halting your movements.

A forceful thrust rips through your pussy when he leaves so much as a tip and slams into you, and you mewl.

“You.” He thrusts once. “Have.” Another. “Got.” Another. “Me.” Another. “Going.” Another. “Crazy.” 

He lifts one of your legs straight up into the air, the shift making him feel even deeper inside you. And it is absolutely erotic when he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath around your ankle, caressing your bare leg that he’s hooking behind his head.

You almost look frail perched up against him in this angle; his well-built body seemingly engulfing yours and the sheer massive size of him pounding into you relentlessly as sweat beads down to the tips of his hair. He just keeps going, his hips a piston charging into you with such force that it unravels lewd sounds from you until the strain in your throat is obvious.

It’s even harder to catch up with the breaths you’re taking with your open mouth, but your pleasure mirrors his. 

He’s determined to make you cum again when his thumbs find the nub of your clit while he maintains his momentum. “That’s it.” Mingyu is satisfied when you squirm, trying to stop him, “you have one more in you for me, baby.” He pressed his thumb even harder and you almost want to bite down on your arm.

Head molding into the pillow as you thrash around, the high coming in unexpectedly as he puts you in a precarious position - folding you almost in half with your legs pressed against your upper half. 

“Mingyu— ah, I-I can’t anymore—ah!” You plead, but you know you don’t actually want him to stop.

Continuing to stimulate your clit, you know you’re about to cum again. “Give me one more baby,” he bites his lip to suppress his own groans, because he can feel you wrap and tremble so tightly around his cock that he’s plunging even harder into you, “cum around me, cum around my fucking cock while I’m inside you.”

This has you going, about to reach your peak, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna!” You almost scream, but as he feels that tightening coil begin he moves down to kiss you.

You unravel with a kiss, spasming around him as you reach for his muscular back to get him to pause and give you time to recover from the ongoing pulsating pleasure.

But he keeps on going, pulling away from the kiss, swearing he’s going crazy as you’re clamping down on him. 

“Inside me, Mingyu, finish inside me.” You beg in sobs, but you look him to straight in the eyes with your dilated ones. Pupils so honest, so lost in pleasure.

“Fuck.” He says. “Say that again and I’ll fill you the fuck up.”

God, he’s so hot like this. How can you say no?

“Please Mingyu, I want you cumming inside of me.” You say, and he picks up a pace you did not know to be possible. “Fill me up, baby.”

He swears he can almost imagine it, filling you up so good and so full of his pleasure. 

“Fuuuck. I’m going to cum inside you.” Mingyu says it as if saying it will seal the truth of it happening. It takes a few more moments, you clinging onto him for dear life, and he finally reaches his peak.

There, coming undone, spilling his load of cum inside you. You can feel the pulsating mess of his cock, and you squeeze even harder as he twitches. Mingyu might see stars after this, but right now - still inside you - he looks at you with warmth and admiration. A stark contrast from the intensity of his lust moments before.

The man falls lightly atop you, enveloping you in a naked embrace of steam and sweat— his deep manly scent even stronger to your nostrils. You take each other in.

“I don’t typically do this.” He admits when you find yourself playing with the ends of his hair.

“What do you mean, you don’t just give girls the best fuck of their life after having drinks for the first time?” You tease him again, but you only receive a chuckle of disbelief.

“Hate to honestly openly inform you that I did tend to fuck around before, songbird.” He says and you don’t really mind it. “But I don’t usually fuck on the first date when it comes to ladies I really really want to impress.” He nuzzles into your neck to hide his embarrassment, and now you’re not so sure that this was the same man of mystery and intimidation you thought he was. 

“What’s with you and trying to impress me so much?” 

“Am I not allowed to feel that way?” He quips, and this has you unimpressed but laughing anyway.

“You’re having my head in for a spin, you know? Just coming in out of nowhere telling me all these things I don’t know how to count for.” It feels comfortable to be honest around him, especially with his hands on you - rubbing small shapes in.

 “I’m telling you,” he whispers, propping his chin around your chest to face you properly, “I’m sincere about you.” 

You try your best to place a kiss to his forehead, giving him a smile. 

“I know you are.” 

The affair is fast paced, no warning signs and no inhibitions - just pure unadulterated dedication. 

You get to know more of him, learning that he’s more than a perceptive man: in fact he pays attention to so much detail that it feels like he lives in your own mind. He’s attentive, patient, and he always lets you finish what you want to say— Mingyu even knows what you’re saying without you having to say a word of anything. Simple sighs and gestures and he’s gravitating to anything to appease your every need.

The mix of it all is impeccable, he tries so hard to please you - to impress you. But he fucks you so hard and so good that it almost feels like in those moments where he’s buried so deep inside you that he hates you. It’s the type of sex that feels almost disrespectful, but you were not in any position (literally) to complain.

To his defense, there’s no proper gage or comparison to your exhibitions. It’s almost like he wants to do and outdo everything every time. He’s bent you over backwards your kitchen counter, even living up to his promise of fucking you against your hallway walls. You’ve been at his place, impressed at how large the townhouse was - but he convinced you that real selling point was having to fuck you against any doable surface, and an added bonus if he could fill you up each time. 

Mingyu’s also had you in the back of the sleek black car right after one of your shows, not caring at all that anybody wise enough to stare more than five seconds would definitely notice the fogged up windows and the car violently moving despite it being parked. 

It’s only a miracle that you could sing the same way on stage, already having a taste of his cock many times after he promised you could suck him off— which meant that you did test your limits by having him hit so deep into your throat because you loved it when he called you his little slut. And that meant that you wanted to please him anytime you felt the warmth blossom in your chest. 

But he did retaliate, you couldn’t even count the amount of times he’s ripped through your stockings just so he can get his vulgar tongue as deep and as wet as possible to lap up at your pussy. You remember holding the hand railings of the stairs to the emergency exit of your apartment building, trying hard not to add to the sound of his slurping because anyone could come in at anytime. 

He’s the exact opposite of what you expected: a warm person compared to the secret life you know he lives in his line of work. If there was anything that did bother you even just a little bit, was how calculated he seemed to be.

Sure, he was very particularly punctual, but you did notice a routine.

You didn’t count on him catching on that you too were perceptive; running away from your past did not mean that you let go of every single characteristic that hardened your character. 

There’s a pattern you notice after a week of dating Mingyu: you can never get him available in the afternoons. At first, you slip into late nights - bodies wrapped together until the morning broke, but he would always be neatly polished before noon came around and he’d be out any door— be it your apartment or his house.

It doesn’t bother you of course, be it as it may. Whatever his set-up was still considered a profession, though not one so dignified as maybe a doctor or a lawyer.

The pattern breaks one Tuesday morning however, when he gets out of bed after a series of knocks to your door. You knew better than not to be alert, sleeping at his house and hearing all the loud knocking - but you had to pretend it did not affect your slumber. 

You feel Mingyu take a good glance at you, and sigh to himself as he puts on some pajama bottoms and answers the door. 

When you’re sure the number of creaky steps he takes to get down are correct, listening intently to the thumping footsteps - you try to get to the window of his bedroom to take a look at the street below. 

A black hearse is parked outside, and you can almost make out the person waiting at the driver’s seat. But it’s Vernon’s voice that allows you to know exactly who’s making rounds to pick Mingyu up. 

“Hate to take you away from your honeymoon.” Vernon jokes, and you know that they’re talking about your relationship. “I can smell her perfume on you too, you know.”

Mingyu chuckles, as if it’s no big deal that you’re a topic of the conversation, telling you that he must be good friends with Vernon - the same person Minnie mentioned delivered those flowers to the club. It did not take a rocket scientist for you to figure out that they were both from SVT.

“She’s not exactly my lady yet,” Mingyu admits, and you have to agree, “but I’m getting there. Or at least I hope so. And yeah, I tell her all the time that perfume might get her in trouble— but it drives me crazy just being able to smell her around. I’m like a fucking dog.”

You can even hear the playful shove Vernon gives Mingyu, the two of them chuckling now like two school boys. A stark contrast to whatever it was they were really getting to, your mind trying to go over any clue you knew about their organization - but you were blanking right now.

Anyone at the Rouge did not speak so much about SVT, and you felt a little wary.

“It’s just that Cheol wanted to make sure you were alright, the guys over at Hoshi’s were almost bulleted to shreds last night— we’re lucky Woozi intercepted about the raid and got them out of the warehouse by the dock before anyone could open fire.” Vernon says, changing the atmosphere of the conversation.

Mingyu hums, it sounds like he’s deep in thought, “they probably know I’m back.” 

“Oh, they do.” Vernon affirms, “but they want all of us to pick sides.” 

“And should I be scared?” Mingyu almost laughs, and it’s not because he’s entertained.

“Of course not brother, you know we’ve got your back.” 

“Thought so, got me worried there Vern.” The clicking of a lighter is heard, and the smell of smoke travels quickly. You duck your head back, recoiling from the smell having invaded your lungs too early for your liking - but your palms land at a strange wooden plank on the floor. 

It takes a trained eye to notice that it’s made to look as old as the other wooden planks lining the room floor, and it’s something you spot quickly. softly tapping on the board to notice that it echoes only slightly as if hollow inside. You lightly press around the edges, and with the right balance of force— it lifts open without a sound. 

Inside, you notice a metal utility box, but underneath are manila envelopes - organized in a manner you cannot quite decipher yet. 

“Let’s just finish these sticks, and I’ll let you get back to your missus.” Vernon says, and you keep the floor board closed for now. Not wanting to mind it at the moment - but now scratching at the back of your mind. 

What was in there?

“You better keep making those jokes, I'm enjoying getting teased for once.” Mingyu’s enjoying Vernon’s teasing, and it’s pretty clear in his tone. “I’m convinced that this girl is the one.” Your chest tightens, and it’s both because you feel the same but there’s also an unexplainable fear there. He may be genuine, but there was so much you did not know. 

It had you wondering if both of you could peel back all the layers of secrecy, one day being completely transparent with each other. 

“You don’t have to worry about her. She’s the songbird at the club, no one will go after her.” Vernon almost says it as if he’s easing his friend’s mind, “Neutral territory.” 

Sure, it seems good that Vernon doesn’t suspect you. Or at least, none of them do. 

“Not until I marry her, you know. Neutrality will fly out the window.”

You hear Mingyu get smacked, his cry of pain already distinct. This thing he says has your heart up to your throat, he was thinking so far ahead and your mind hadn't even wandered there yet.

“You haven’t even seen her that long— hell, I’ve seen her on stage longer than you’ve been playing house!” Vernon scolds him, “you haven’t even introduced her to us properly. Hey, is this was brothers do? Just casually say they want to marry someone?”

“Okay okay okay, just give me more time. Can’t I fall in love in peace?” Mingyu defends himself, and you can’t help but feel so warm inside when he openly admits this. 

“For you and this mess we’re in, I’m afraid that’s a privileged option to have any peace at all.” Vernon says, and it’s almost a cue for you to get back to bed before Mingyu can come back.

If you were curious before, you were itching to know more by now.

“So now you want to know?” Jennie asks you, it’s only a few hours before the Rouge opens and she’s working a shift behind the bar - cleaning the drinking glasses as you sit by one of the bar stools. 

“You’re the one who told me to be safe, were you not?” You beg her, with the best cute voice you can pull off. “You can’t tell me that and leave me in the dark— you know how secretive their group can be.”

“Yeah well, no shit are they secretive.” She nods her head. 

“So you’ll tell me?” 

Jennie sighs. “You’re lucky I love you. That, and you’re lucky Woozi and I are… somewhat close.” 

“Well?” 

“Well, a year before you came to this town everyone did not like each other - you know, territorial claims on the business district. Who owned which street, who protected the other. They still kind of don’t like each other but now I’d guess that since Mingyu came back, it feels like all the people coming in the club are almost friendly.” 

“Why’s that?” You ask her.

“Couple of bigger groups from a way’s over from here thought it would be funny to bring in opioids and other cracked up drugs into this town - and if there’s something that all the groups here in this town don’t like. It’s that. They can brawl and fight, make a big show about having bigger guns— but having regular people drugged out? No. Everyone here’s afraid of what petty addiction can do, but these days the drugs are circling around our district. No one knows where it’s coming in from.” 

It triggers a terrible memory in you, but you just nod and let her finish.

“So, you want to know about your lover boy?” She offers, obviously giving up from gatekeeping any more information from you. 

“Obviously.” You are able to say in a forced breath.

“Mingyu’s always been good to everyone, don’t get me wrong— SVT as a whole are well liked because they all have friends from all different groups, but Mingyu is in deeper than most of them.”

“Should that make me feel like I’m naive?” It makes you wonder aloud but your friend offers a good smile.

“No. He’s a good guy from what I know. Grew up normal, exceptional, good family, good school, the works. Almost too good really, kind of feels like he doesn’t belong in this world.” She says it like she’s realizing it just now. “Actually, he’s just too good that he kind of does blend in.” 

“But why is he so different from everyone else then?”

Her smile fades, “he disappears a lot, Y/N. You should know that. Just gets up and exits this town from God-knows-where, and whenever he comes back from some random place in Europe or wherever it is he does business - he comes back just fortifying the standing of SVT.”

“When’s the longest he’s gone?”

“The year you moved in and settled?” Jennie thinks back, “I think you arrived here a few days after he left.” The coincidence has you questioning it too, but Jennie speaks up again. “Hey, all I know is, people around him respect him enough— and it looks like he has a reason to stick around.”

She points her index finger straight toward you, almost like an accusation, and instead of glowering at that you find yourself in a deeper hole than from when you started. 

Mingyu never once mentions or makes you feel like he was the huge deal that Jennie had detailed to you he was. 

But in this dimly lit restaurant, you can tell that he’s receiving special treatment from the staff. Expensive wine already prepared in a gold-plated ice bucket, and complimentary cuts of cheese flowing in without even a word of instruction from him. 

“Something on your mind?” He asks you, and now you know it’s evident how you’ve spaced out.

“Just you.” You respond, and the biggest smile just paints his face. It’s strange how your heart jumps out of your chest still; this thing has been going on for almost a month now and it still feels like you’re always so peckish around him.

Always feeling like a schoolgirl, always having your heart thump so loud, always wanting more. 

“Oh I better be.” He says. “Since we’re on the topic of me on your mind, I actually meant to ask you something.”

You dread this, the way his voice softens and how he looks down at his plate like it’s scaring him to ask you directly. It was so unlike him.

“Are you going to ask me about moving the chair in my room? I know you always bring up how you seem to trip over it.” You lighten the mood, and it works.

“No, I wanted to ask you if you could be my date to the Mayor’s Banquet, actually.” He blurts out, and this typically gruff man seems so small now.

You’ve been going out to town together publicly already, comfortable with everyone knowing you had something going on. So the answer was obvious, and you wonder why he was even asking. 

“Of course I’ll come with you, why wouldn’t I?” You reach for his hand resting on the table, and he seems to melt under your touch.

“I just wanted you to be prepared because some of the guys are going to share the same table as us, and I just wanted them to properly meet my significant other.” He just called you his significant other, “and I didn’t want you to feel like I was blindsiding you.”

“Oh Mingyu, you think of me too much.” It’s endearing, really. 

“But as my girlfriend, you’re coming with me as my girlfriend— only if you’ve made up your mind. Or is this the most unromantic way to ask?" Is what he says in a hurry, before settling to his wine. The two of you never really got to touch on labels, something that didn’t feel necessary. You were in each other’s lives routinely at this point, doing everything but making things official.

It’s no longer a question, really. You thought he knew you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 

“Aren’t I already your girlfriend?” You tease him, “I probably read all the signs wrong then.” You can tell he wants to kiss you right now, but he’s holding himself back.

“Sorry, my sweet sweet girlfriend.” He says in disbelief almost.

“Yes, my sweet sweet boyfriend.” 

In one of the finer sides of town, where a massive hotel is perched to accommodate large groups of tourists and host grand conventions, is where the banquet is being held. Though this is mind-blowing-ly out of place for any choice of itinerary you may have, it seems your preferences are already changing to accommodate the man in your life. 

It’s all so already too snooty, too rich for you. Politicking in any way, shape, or form was something you wanted to avoid— and you found that this banquet was not about the Mayor’s speech at all.

It was about… politicking. That, on top of drinking and meandering. 

It’s a relief that you were going to meet Mingyu’s ‘brothers,’ as he liked to describe them on the way here. Except the people you were meant to meet didn’t want to be early enough to stick around for the initial pleasantries, making you look forward to the dinner portion of the banquet to meet them at the large circular dining table instead.

It’s Wonwoo, Vernon, and Sungcheol who accompany you— already greeting you (or really, Mingyu) with teasing smiles. Very well suited up like how you usually saw them. 

“Hello.” Sungcheol initiates, reaching out to offer you a hand, “so you’re the one softening our muscleman?” 

You shake his hand back politely, “I don’t think we have to act like complete strangers.” This makes him laugh. 

“We know you of course - the only voice we ever look forward hearing on Saturdays.” Vernon pipes up, and Mingyu seems already unpleased.

“Now, you’re not allowed to say that about my girl.” Mingyu tuts, and everyone laughs.

“Cut them some slack, Gyu. I’ve seen them at the club for longer than I’ve seen you!” You defend his friends, and he looks almost betrayed. 

“Nice to finally be acquainted with you.” Wonwoo is the next to offer you a hand, and Sungcheol finds it in him to already comment.

“You know, Y/N, Wonwoo here is sort of like… Gyu’s ex-wife.” He shares, Vernon is already holding in his laughter.

“Close.” Wonwoo nods, “more like inseparable roommates, that was before he moved out into the big world and decided to kick me to the curb. Apparently I’m not good enough for a big town house.” You know Wonwoo to typically be the type to nod in silence and not at all touch an alcoholic beverage at the Rouge, but you were surprised to find him chatty. 

You look at Mingyu who looks like he’s been disarmed defenseless, but you poke at his torso and flash him a smile. “Maybe I should be getting jealous then?” 

“Maybe just a little,” he pouts, “enough to console me.” 

“Don’t fall for it, Y/N. He hardly deserves it.” Vernon says but you shake your head and wrap your arm around Mingyu’s.

“Sorry, I can’t do that to my guy.” You smile at all of them, and you can feel the way Mingyu’s heart thumps. The arm you have in your grip is just held tighter, and you’re both just glad this is going better than you expected.

The three men coo, and you decide to finally settling into your table. But Wonwoo stays right behind to whisper something into your ear.

“You love him?” He asks, head tilted toward pointing to Mingyu who’s already in conversation with Sungcheol and Vernon.

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” You admit quickly, and this seems to please him. 

“Do you trust him?” Is his next question, and this time there’s a pause in the air - but he seems to understand your hesitation. “You don’t have to admit to that if you don’t want to.” Wonwoo offers you a look for comfort. Your mind goes back to Jennie, the floorboards in his house - how he never got around to once opening up to you about what he did on a regular basis.

But here he was, introducing you to the people in his life. Parading you around town as a girlfriend. 

“I guess you understand.” It’s already unspoken, but he agrees.

“I’m not telling you that you have to force yourself to believe me, but you should… Trust him, I mean.” He says as you two make your way near your table before anyone notices how long you’ve been talking.

“I’ll remember it was his ex-wife that told me to.” You laugh, and this seems to please him, a laugh is shared between the two of you.

Mingyu has been staring at the two of you settle down, wondering why you had a separate conversation and why he only noticed as you were about to finish— but Wonwoo gives him a knowing look and he catches a bit of your last sentence to know whatever it was… was probably in good faith.

“I like your friends.” You tell Mingyu, who looks a little surprised. 

“They like you too.” He says low enough for only you to hear. 

The banquet seems to go by smoothly now that you have three new characters to converse with, it feels a bit like you’re less alone in gawking at all the sparkled and well-made-up crowd. There’s now company for you in looking at this strange display of power and wealth from the outside.

Mingyu excuses himself when some staff call for his attention, cautiously approaching the table the five of you occupied. It seemed everyone got the memo; nobody was approaching your table in particular— keeping a good two yard circumference from where you sat. Like there was an invisible forcefield preventing them from socializing with any of you.

So it does seem strange when Mingyu stands to leave, being escorted to the Mayor’s table. 

From where you sit, you can see him so clearly. An advantage to his tall build was how he seemed to tower over everyone, and in that moment he looked like he properly blent in with all of this.

He shakes hands with everyone at the Mayor’s table, pleasantries are obviously exchanged and Mingyu seems to wear a smile with ease. Bowing, nodding, approving having his photo taken with the Mayor by the in-house photographer and some from the local paper.

Was this not out of standard protocol?

Your questioning eyes don’t go unnoticed, Wonwoo who’s been observing you speaks up.

“Trust me, we’re still getting used to being part of his world.” He says, adjusting his glasses to also give a glance to Mingyu. 

“And this is normal?” You ask Wonwoo, and he knows well enough that you’re referring to the strange scene at the front of the hall. 

What was Mingyu doing?

“Nothing in Mingyu’s life is,” Wonwoo sighs, looking at the wristwatch he sported, “but then again it’s not like we lead such normal lives either, now do we?” 

It’s something that catches you by surprise when he asks, but with a nervous swallowing of the lump that formed in your throat you have to agree. You’re simply inclined to.

Wonwoo’s not finished talking though, and maybe this was his way of comforting you - no matter how harsh it may be. “Think of it this way, he’s the one putting up a performance on stage this time. You just have to understand that it does all of us less harm than if he didn’t.” 

Your wine glass was still significantly full, but you take it by the stem and take it all in one go. Wonwoo is surprised, but it’s your turn to assure him that it’s okay.

“You told me to trust him, right?“ You say. “I’ll trust him.”

As you say this, Mingyu along with the Mayor and other notable local faces in town have already gone up into a private room, and it doesn’t evade your gaze at all. Leaving you wondering what there was to talk about that was so important.

But you had to trust him, even if it meant that you hardly trusted yourself.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you with the guys back there for a bit, I hope it didn’t feel like you were babysitting.” Mingyu tells you, the two of you leaning on the handrails of his balcony. 

“No, not at all. They’re pleasant people, your friends.” You say as he puts his suit jacket over your bare shoulders, making you quick to hug it over your body to prevent it from falling.

He wraps his big strong arms around you next, the wind cooing in as the cold is battled away by the nearness of your bodies. Mingyu whispers something about your perfume, and it makes you giggle - momentarily leaving tingles around your own body. 

“I love you.” He whispers, it’s the first time he says it, and he hopes that hiding behind your hair can save him the embarrassment. 

Your muscles tense, surprised at the confession. You know you love him too, but it’s extremely difficult to admit that you’re completely in love with a man you know has secrets. You could be selfish too. It’s the same reason why you moved to start fresh in this town, but the world had other plans when Mingyu entered your life.

It’s like you cannot escape your past at all. 

But you cannot betray your own heart like this, not when the month you’ve spent loving this man has been nothing but pure bliss. It’s not just about the amazing fucking, or the immediate longing when you haven’t been enveloped in his embrace for more than a few hours.

It was the doting, the loving in silent remembering. How you fell into instant melodic routine— how you did not have to say anything at all to know it clicked. It simply worked. Beyond who you were and what secrets you both did not divulge, it truly felt like you found another part of your soul you hadn’t known was ripped away from you.

He didn’t make your life feel like how it had been. Like running away. Pretending you were fine with the monotonous routine: doing piles of laundry, not being able to properly eat by yourself, prettying yourself up to sing at the club— only looking forward to weekends to feel like you were somebody. Like you were alive. Instead he had you yearning for everyday, knowing that there would be a better version of yourself to be learnt in love. 

You loved him too, and the realization has you terrified. 

A tear falls from your eye, and it does not go unnoticed by Mingyu.

“What’s wrong?” He panics, but he only gently expresses this. There was horror in hearing that you did not love him back, but nothing scared him more than the sight of you even shedding a single tear because of him.

“I just—“ you gasp in some hair, “I just… I love you too, that’s all.” You bring a hand to find his arm, clasping on it.

Turning to face him now, he meets your gaze for a kiss. It’s so different from any kiss you’ve had before, now your body completely turns to accommodate what’s transpiring.

Your hands finding the back of his neck and some fingers tangle up in his hair. His own hands find their way to your back and your waist, pushing you in closer to him if that could even be possible. 

“Say that again, please.” He asks you.

You deliver a small peck to his lips again before pulling away, “I said, I love you.” 

“God. I love you.” He kisses you. “I love you.” 

You’re lead into his room, away from the cold of the late night. It’s not so foreign to you, how these nights go. Scary how easy it is to kiss his lips, indulge in the fine way his body had been built the way it is. 

By this point, you know he welcomes you gawking at his naked figure. Mingyu wasn’t shy of showing off; you figured out pretty early on that he was comfortable walking around without a shirt on when the two of you were at each other’s places. You weren’t complaining though, you’d literally be an ingrate to do that. 

So when his shirt comes off in a frenzy of passionate kissing, so does your dress. You did joke several times that you felt almost like a mannequin for his reflex training, because he somehow always managed to get you undressed so quickly without making such a fuss out of it.

This time you can’t tease him, the love inside you almost making you burst.

“I love you.” He says it again, kissing at your neck as he moves down to make a trail to your collarbones and your chest. 

“How much do you love me?” 

He likes that you ask this, for him it feels like a challenge— one he can prove with his big rough hands tracing at the very lateral sides where the curves of your bust flow into the curve of your hips. It’s almost choreographed when he lays you onto his bed, spreading your legs wide like a present only for him to open. 

“I love you so much that I only want this to be the air that I breathe.” Mingyu finally answers you this way when his breath fans over your spread pussy. He kisses the insides of your thighs before he sucked on your clit. 

Mingyu was a generous lover— making sure you got your fill of pleasure all the time was something of second nature to him. If someone was pussy-obsessed, then that was the only correct way for him to be described when it came to you.

It’s messy this time: the way that he eats you out. Pressing against the back of your thighs to keep you in place, not caring just how sloppy or messy he’s getting you. And you can feel how wet everything is getting, when he fingers his spit into your hole - your arousal and all that drool from his mouth just mixing.

When Mingyu curls his fingers in the way he knows to get you to make those sounds he very much likes, you try your hardest not to shit your eyes and almost scream in pleasure. You want this moment to be special because your love confession warrants it, but it’s so hard to focus on his knitted eyebrows when he’s hitting all the right fucking nerves.

You pant, the dryness of the ventilated air through your mouth was definitely going to be an issue later - but you brush it off because he’s looking straight at you as his tongue his pressed so flat up against your pussy. He takes a hand out to intertwine it with with yours— the eye contact and everything he’s doing with your tongue just building up enough stimulation that you begin to feel the same pulsing sensation he’s just so good at giving you.

“Gonna. Cum.” You tell him, and there’s almost a  smirk on his mouth. But you can’t handle it this time because he goes even faster, even when you squirm and dig your hands into his hair. He’s the one to groan and keeps on going, already feeling the familiar taste of your cum.

The sounds you make when you reach your own climax are one of the things Mingyu tells you he lives for these days— telling you there’s no sound quite like it. So when your head thrashes around to the side, he takes the hand once intertwined with yours and reaches to keep your face up at him. 

He’s only capable of doing so because his frame was massive compared to yours, and you absolutely did not mind when he made you feel that he towered over you.

“Always so good to me.” He says, kissing around your stomach. “Feels like I’ll never be able to deserve it.” A kiss to your breasts, kissing at the hardened nipples. “But here you are giving yourself to me, telling me you love me.” You moan when he circles his tongue around one nipple as he gropes your other breast. “Fuck.”

“Kiss me, Mingyu.” You’re able to steady a hand, still feeling like jelly from your high, to lift his chin to face you. He’s so stupidly handsome. Hair just falling to frame his face — puppy dog orbs just staring up at you. As he hadn’t gone down on you just now.

And so he does, like his life depends on the gift of your lips. 

You push him off, something that still manages to surprise him when you have sex. Taking command was something you did not outwardly desire to do when you wanted to, but when you get down on your knees and nicely guide him to sit so you can suck him off - all he can do is comply. 

“You don’t have to do this for me, baby.” He winces when you lick a stripe over his long hard cock, your trail of saliva barely covering enough to compensate for the girth of him. Mingyu was truly built long and large, everywhere. 

“I want to.” You say, kissing at his pink tip, precum already leaking from the slit. 

You don’t mind how Mingyu tastes, in fact if you were to be honest - you really liked it. So when you lay your tongue out flat to accommodate swallowing him into your mouth until his tip reached the back of tour throat, it’s all in good pleasure to have your eyes well up with tears. 

When he groans and moans above you, trying his best not to push you down any further. This stretch of your mouth, and the way you salivate all over his cock, is all worth it. Even as tears fall down to your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, gagging each time the length challenged your throat— the sounds he makes and the way he trembles makes it so rewarding.

You keep going, until you notice the way he falters, gritting his teeth so close together that you can hear the way his molars click. 

“Fuck, baby. How are you so good to me?” He moans out, “my pretty little songbird taking me so well in her pretty little mouth.” 

Mingyu loves this, you know he does. In all the naked glory of his head tilted so you can see the perfect outline of his nose bridge, his thick eyebrows, and his defined jaw going slack. But you know he doesn’t want to finish like this, though he has plenty of times finished in your mouth - this time is different. You know he’s made up his mind when he holds you by your temples, making you stop.

The way his weight falls upon you is one of your favorite things, it feels like he envelopes you. You feel every muscle, every hot plane of skin just above you. 

He kisses you once more, his tongue so diligent. Collecting your moans as he multitasks between your mouth and aligning his cock to your entrance. You’ll never get used to him, his sheer size. But something new this time is how he seems almost careful, gentler than you’ve ever felt him fuck you. 

“So so good to me— so good.” He says, but you’re too lost in pleasure to utter a word - almost gasping in your sounds. His hands find their way to intertwine into yours again, somehow it’s second nature for you to reach out to each other. 

You know you love him, and it’s not about the sex. You feel it. You’ve never felt a feeling so tangible before.

Mingyu knows which spots to hit now, making good memories of which parts of your body were most sensitive. He loved having you responsive, and you were so pliable to his love. 

“I love you.” You whisper, and you mean it. It’s so difficult to find it in you to speak, especially when you let him have you like this. 

He kisses you in response, his expressions are so soft and yet so sharply focused on you. “I love you too.” 

He works hard to chase your high, no matter how easy it is for him to unravel at your sweet warm tightness. You don’t remember how you get to finish— but you do remember how fragile you feel when he wraps his arms around you as you come undone. Becoming putty in his grip as you postively vibrate in your own body.

Mingyu asks if he can fill you up and cum inside you, waiting for you to make a clear response despite the haze of pleasure you were in. And you let him.

It’s the most emotional you feel after sex, and he has you breathless. He leaves you only shortly to get a clean towel to get you settled for sleep, and though you know the relationship is set on the right path - your mind goes to the wooden floor boards. 

And what secrets could lie underneath. 

You do not notice him leave in the early morning, but he wakes you up around midday. 

Already dressed in his finest, Mingyu looks like he does when you know he’s gone off to ‘work,’ whatever the nature of that may be. But today you’re surprised by something new in his appearance. 

“Good morning.” He sends a sheepish grin to your sleepy eyes, walking over to your side of the bed where he can sit.

 “You cut it.” You reach out to him, touching the now shorter ends of his hair. 

“Do you like it?” He looks worried that you don’t.

“Well,” you purse your lips to pretend that you’re unsure, and he looks so obviously worried. “I haven’t seen you with anything but your long hair.” You say, hand mindlessly in his hair.

“I can grow it out if you want me to—“

You take both palms to his cheeks to get better leverage when you press a kiss to his mouth. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it, I’m just surprised you’re still as handsome with short hair.” You laugh.

Mingyu smiles that same toothy one you’ve gotten used to. 

“Wish I could stay longer, baby, but there are errands I have to run.” He takes both your hands in his before he stands up. “You can stay as long as you want, this is as much your place as it is mine.” He says, hovering around the doorframe.

“Alright.” You say, sitting upright on the bed.

“I love you, I’ll see you later.” And he goes wherever it is he’s supposed to. 

This becomes normal for the next few weeks. Mingyu just running in and out of the house at strange times, far from the original pattern you noticed. He tries his best to hide things from you— soiled bloodied clothes going straight to the laundry room before you can catch a glance. But you’re quick to see them when he leaves the house. 

You barely get to spend much time with him, between the Mayor’s Banquet and your love confession, it feels like he’s operating on an entirely different planet from the period you had started the relationship. Mingyu insists you stay over more often, but it doesn’t exactly mean that he’d be there at his house to spend time with you. 

Somehow, it feels lonelier.

It’s his first Saturday missing out on watching you sing at the club.

Mingyu told you he’d be there tonight, but it was an unspoken promise for him to be anyway. He just told you that he’d be around for the show the same time he always did, but your set was about to come to an end and he still wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

In fact, the entire table SVT typically occupied was empty. No familiar soul at all.

“Thank you very much, you’ve all been such darlings tonight.” You say your ending spiel, trying your best to look the same you usually did— but the problem was that you felt disgusting inside.

You were angry, sad, confused. The empty table was staring back at you, and you already felt defeated. Hell, you didn’t even know what was even going on. 

Charging away from the stage, you go backstage to gather your things. You decided you were leaving, you didn’t want to stick around for a drink to see if any one of them were coming in. It seemed that this was your breaking point, all the running around and hiding had finally caught up to you and you felt like something was going to go horribly wrong. 

You’ve felt this feeling before, and the ending was not one you liked. 

The rush of all your emotions doesn’t give you a good recollection of how you end up back at Mingyu’s house, heart breaking at the cold and now more dark looking living space. The same way you left it in the afternoon, no trace of him coming back between then and now. 

Rain started pouring outside as if on cue to match the mood you were in, now every sound you made in this house was dampened by the competing rain drops outside. 

The first thing you do is look for the luggage cases you brought into his home, slowly moving into his place over the time you’ve been together. It’s easy to spot, but a little difficult to get— placed on a shelf above a cupboard space, another reminder of Mingyu’s tall frame and how he can easily undertake this simple task that has you cry in frustration.

But you do get it, almost having the case fall at your feet. You stuff clothes into your luggage, not worrying about the way that you’re packing it all in unorganized. 

It’s so hard to reach for things when you don’t have a proper sense of control over your body.

Any sane logical person would have waited it out, would have preferred not to overreact. But you had to admit that you were a flawed, slightly insane, and now very emotional person. And that meant that you trusted your foresight more than you wanted to. 

The only thing thar breaks you away from your heavy-handed packing and sobbing was the sound of the front door opening so abruptly downstairs. The rain had been pouring too loud outside for you to even register anyone’s arrival. 

You place a hand over your mouth, trying to silence yourself. 

If it were Mingyu arriving home, you knew his gentle approach. Whoever this was… was not Mingyu, or at least you were certain that it wasn’t him opening the door.

What you do hear is the moving of furniture around the living room, and some panicked voices commanding each other. Some of these voices were familiar.

“Be fucking careful, man! We’re trying to save him, not fucking him up even more.” You hear Vernon say as you sneak by the stairs, trying to get a good view of the commotion. 

From where you were, you saw the coffee table pushed away from the center of the living room - and the couch pushed up against the wall. None of them had bothered removing any of their shoes when they went in— traces of hurry left by the wet tracks of rain they brought in.

It’s no mistake that the groggy figure Wonwoo and Sungcheol are positioning down on the couch is Mingyu. Though he’s slumped, seemingly not in control of his own body, you were so perfectly familiar with the navy blue suit he wore this morning. But now that you cannot help but walk down the steps, a hand still clasped over your mouth but the tears still forming around the waterline of your eyes, you see that the suit is bloodied up - damped from the rain.

You almost trip over a small puddle on the floor, but Vernon catches you by the shoulders. 

“Jesus.” Is all he can say, knowing what a wreck of a situation this is having you look already distraught.

Across you, Mingyu was breathing - but he didn’t seem to be conscious. You could see the gash resting a little atop his brow bone, but that was nothing compared to the excessive bleeding of his shoulders. The culprit a dark spot, large enough to accommodate a dime it seemed.

He was shot in the shoulder. 

Just then another character enters the house, one with a compact leather case - a familiar Woozi closely following after him.

“About time you got here, Minghao.” Sungcheol addresses this man, and even though you want to stay laser focused on Mingyu - this Minghao hurriedly unpacks his things to reveal all sorts of medical equipment.

Only when your eyes dart around all six men in the living room do you notice how none of them are in the best shape. Fresh cuts and early forming bruises sported their knuckles and some areas of their faces that you could see. Only Mingyu had a bullet wound, and only this Minghao has no external injuries - but he looks as equally stressed out.

“It’s not like I can be here in a snap of a finger.” Minghao rolls his eyes, beckoning Woozi to help him prepare his tools. 

“He fell on his side too, if that helps.” Wonwoo tells him, and Minghao nods hurriedly. 

“‘Course it does.” With large scissors, they begin cutting around the shoulder line of Mingyu’s suit and undershirt, avoiding having to move his already shot shoulder that he apparently fell on too.

Vernon comes into your vision, albeit blurry from the tears you’re crying. “Hey, Y/N? I need you to be calm okay? Mingyu’s going to be fine.” Then you notice Sungcheol and Wonwoo look at you to respond to Vernon, but you keep your sights on Mingyu— whose bullet wound you see now as clear as day.

Was this how it was going to be?

The feeling of running away from a life that constantly scared you? And now, having someone worthwhile to care for - to love for, but at the risk of never knowing if they were safe?

You simply nod, still in tears, holding in the way you want to breathe so sporadically. Allowing Vernon to pat your back, as Sungcheol approaches to do the same. 

It’s easy for you to go back upstairs and put back your things the way that they normally seemed; from then until the next three days— it seemed all the SVT members were taking rounds keeping Mingyu in what seemed to be their version of a hospital inside the living room on the first floor. 

Minghao, you’d learned, was their in-house doctor. They did not have to explain how very necessary it was to have somebody around to mediate things of physical injury, but you figured it made sense. In all the seriously strange-for-you, but certainly not-so-strange-for-them manner of things.

It did not seem appropriate for you to leave Mingyu, not when you also took your time hovering around his not yet so responsive state. If everybody else had gone back home, or decided to take refuge in one of the guest bedrooms or one of the other couches - you found yourself doting on Mingyu. Hoping he’d do more than wince at the antiseptics used to clean his wounds, or mumble, nod, and groggily comply if he was moved around to go to the bathroom or have a wash up. He couldn’t even eat so properly yet. Not that you noticed.

Mingyu is almost functional after five days. 

Almost is quite loose, actually. He can barely reach for anything beyond a 90 degree angle, but he was lucky his towering height could compensate.

The two of you have barely had a proper conversation, never talking directly about why he got shot in the shoulder - not once mentioning what happened that evening. It bothers you that you don't get much out of him - not even about why he had to had to have a private conversation with the Mayor, where he usually disappeared to, and what got him to get shot.

Only tiptoeing around his injury, things around the house, and getting over the silence of being left alone again when the other boys decided that you two could manage without them. He could barely look you in the eye, although you had slept in the same bed— there was nothing more than his arm draped around your waist in slumber. No more than an embrace was shared, and you knew it was not normal.

So when you see him dress up in another one of his suits, you’re gobsmacked with disappointing astonishment. 

“You’re leaving?” You ask him as you stalk around the door way to the closet door where he was adjusting his tie. He seems stunned to see you there, and you can tell that he doesn’t know what to say or if any reason he can give you may be convincing enough. 

“I’ll be back, don’t worry.” He rushes to place a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll see you tonight.” Is the last thing he says before he leaves you.

That was also the last thing he said the night he didn’t show up to the club. 

You did not have it in you to fight him, to run down the driveway of his lawn and try to sway him to tell you what was going on that was worth risking his life for. That part of you already dissipated the night you almost packed up and left.

Mingyu already seemed determined, too passive to feel like he needed to explain. You could tell that his mind was anywhere else than with you, and it lead you to believe that the answers you longed for from him could be found under the floorboards. 

Just looming around the back of your mind waiting to be revealed. 

Tonight. He’d be back tonight.

It was only an hour before noon now, and it meant you had plenty of time until he’d be home. That gave you more than enough time.

It is not exactly the same way it was when you first opened it. The metal utility box is no longer locked and the array of manila envelopes already in a huge mess, as if someone had been in a hurry to look through whatever was in there.

Without thinking you reach for the first thing you can— a worn out envelope with a stack of papers inside. You carefully try to remove it from where it was placed, meaning not to give yourself away should you want Mingyu not to know that you were going through things he obviously wanted to keep hidden.

You feel your head spin at the sight of you. 

All of your information, neatly typewritten onto paper - with an old photo of yours you could not even remember where it had been taken from. All the details of your birth, where you’d grown up, the name of your parents, known relatives. Everything biographically summed up. 

So you go through each page to get a better understanding of what it was you were looking at. Each page felt like a huge slap in the face.

Photographs of you from different times of your life. Some when you were just a regular teenager, some when you found yourself in a world of trouble - an ex-boyfriend introducing you to a life of excessive drinking and smoking. Then a connection between you and the night, had you known those evenings of temporary bliss would have lead you to something much deeper and much darker then you probably would take it all back.

You started singing from place to place, but at first it was not a job. It was a hobby that gave you an excuse to indulge in all the things that came with it. A free drink or two, a little standing ovation, a cloud of cigarette smoke — but what mattered the most to you was pleasing your boyfriend at the time. Acceptance was addicting, and you found that he was easy to please for as long as you said yes to everything he wanted you to do.  

It started with a small roll of something you thought was like a regular cigarette, your ex-boyfriend had passed it onto you - telling you to take a little inhale. Then it turned into something else, powders, injectables. All of them forcefully given to you. 

You did not like it. At first you did, but as you found yourself lost to it— an overstimulation that took over— you wanted to escape it.

But as unlucky as you were, you did not realize that your ex-boyfriend had lead the operation. A twisted take at a business operation, leading a drug cartel into a small town - he said it was overflow from the city. You found out that he planned to turn you into a mule of sorts, wanting to stuff supplies into your body if he got you so pliant— making big shipments through you, an unsuspecting thing, so he could climb up the hierarchy of crime lords. 

Before it was too late, before you could lose yourself entirely to addiction or his control, you packed your bags and took off. It was to your luck that you were more observant than necessary; you now understood that in some way you would always be connected to this type of life.

Dealers knew you, some other people who made transactions with your ex knew you— you were now a face that rang up their memories. Regardless of what you did before or what you would end up doing after, you were part of this world even if it did not want you. 

So you made friends with some of the people around him, and it got you familiar with all the sorts of ideas to get away as safely as you could. Your voice was the ticket out, a club at a few towns far enough from where you came from.

A neutral territory, was how it was said to you.

It would not keep you out of the circulation, but it would keep you safe. Give you an air of peace at least. 

So now, looking at a file on your entire history, that you knew Mingyu had and owned. It sent a huge pang of betrayal across your chest. Like it was you who had been shot, but by something more painful than anything you could physically imagine.

So you try to look through all the other envelopes- some files on other people working in the club, some of Jennie and Minnie. Other patrons at the Rouge, some part of other organized groups. Some documents about the circulating drug trade. 

All of these things you were running away from was just stored away at the bedroom you found the escape of love in. 

The last thing you look into is the metal box already unlocked. A shiny, gold plated badge is there, sitting atop a leather case. Next to it a police-issued gun, not that you knew it was specifically police— but you were familiar with the type of firearm men-in-uniforms were given. Except this one was a little more complicated; a silencer attached to its muscle.

Then you notice it, a dry seal from a government office right outside the manila envelopes you went through. If only you could shriek, but you keep yourself quiet. 

Mingyu was part of something else entirely, and it made you even more scared to have known more now than knowing less before.

Then it clicks, Jennie had mentioned it before. They didn’t hide how they wanted to stop the drugs from coming into this town - and it did seem like no other organized group wanted that to happen either. 

The Rouge was worth looking into; neutral territories typically meant unregulated grounds. Maybe they wanted to look into you because it wasn’t so hard to dig up on your history, and by the way things were pinned at— you were at the top of their list.

It is now that you decide to leave not because you had anything you had to hide, but because you cannot handle secrets like this. And you did not know how much any of this was real anymore. 

So you quickly round up anything you owned, not bothering to hide how you left his treasure trove of intel either.

You wanted him to know that you knew. 

You knew he would try to come after you. Not because you thought it of his nature as an agent or a cop… or whatever he actually was… but because of this impending gut feeling pounding from your chest and swelling at your throat.

So it takes you a good two hours of adrenaline to have everything settled. 

Material objects are no longer of any sentiment to you, it’s something you learned to acquire when you first ran away. You kept everything essential; traveling light meant traveling fast - and it would be easier for you to disappear because quick travelers come in fast and unnoticeably transient than most. 

You wanted to not have any second thoughts and leave before the sun set, but you couldn’t do that. Your apartment only cleared of things you thought necessary, and your landlord was more than use to people just leaving without prior notice. To your own shock, it was easy leaving Mingyu’s house and not taking a quick glance back.

But the one place you had to say goodbye to was the club, and the friends you made there. Though the feeling of your own safety was a mere illusion, it made you feel at ease for the year you stayed.

“Sorry, it just has to be this way.” You tell Jennie and Minnie, who take your sudden departure much easier than you thought they would.

“Trust me, if we had the chance to leave this place, we would too.” Jennie just comments, offering you a sorry smile.

“Just, try to keep in touch, okay?” Minnie says, and you nod.

“Not for a while,” You say and they understand immediately, “maybe when my absence becomes normal. I’ll call.” They give you one last hug before letting you go.

“You can take one last breath of this place before you go. Only if you want to.” Jennie suggests and you nod. It wouldn’t be a hassle to walk around with only one suitcase in your possession, and maybe there were a few things you needed to pick out from your vanity backstage.

The club is not busy at all. There were only the staff here at this hour, too early for any patrons to be welcomed inside. So the place was eerily quiet, more lit up and empty than you were used to than when it peaked at night. 

You make your way down to the dressing room, only a long dark corridor before you closed the door gently behind you— but the time was perfect enough for you to hear loud conversation from where you’d just come from at the heart of the club.

“Is she here?” You knew Mingyu’s voice so perfectly well by now, and so you position yourself as close as you can to the dressing room’s door - sticking as still and has close as you could to the wall even if you felt your heart drop.

“No, it’s too early for her to be.” Jennie answers him, and you can hear the way he’s trying to catch his breath. “Hasn’t she been staying with you?” 

“She— Y/N, she left.” He only says, and it’s unfortunate that no matter how lost he sounds you know that your friends won’t tell him anything.

“I don’t know, feel free to look around, it’s not like she’ll fall from the roof.” Minnie says and you hear their footsteps.

“God man, you’re so fucking stupid!” Mingyu whispers to himself, and it sounds clear as day when he walks along the corridor to your dressing room. Of course he knew about it, you two had gone here when you first kissed him.

You practically feel the way the walls vibrate when he punches them, not knowing you were there - holding your breath when you felt how near he was.

But he took a pause right outside the door, his voice so close for you to hear. 

“This is my fault. Falling in love on the fucking job, and not being honest.” He sobs, and you don’t know what you’re feeling but it’s something akin to heartbreak— to sadness. 

You gravitate towards the backdoor.

You had to go. 

Mingyu enters the dressing room, trying to recall the layout of the place to the best of his knowledge. There is no one there, not that he can see or sense, although he was always heavily guarded - he had little hope anyone would be in this very room.

He makes his way to your vanity, it seemed untouched. But nothing here was anything you needed to bring with you, that was something he noticed when you chose things to bring from his house and your apartment.

He’s lost you.

And as he lingers longer, he smells it. Bergamot and basil.

Your perfume is still in the air.

You’ve been here.

He was too late. 

------------------------------------------------

Every decayed turn and step toward the castle, held now seemingly distant memories of you guiding him through your kingdom when you wanted to whisk him away from the palace and into town amongst the common people. The two of you hiding in ridiculously large caped outfits, the hoods somewhat effectively disguising your identities.

Now he could only imagine your laughter, the sway of your hair as cascaded through waves that snaked to your hips. It seemed that he would no longer be able to smell jasmine and sandalwood, not in this Gaia. Not anymore.

“You understand why I have to be here?” Is the first thing Jaehyun asks when he sees your father. Both of them disheveled, looking up at each other like broken men.

“I don’t suppose you expect me to give up the autonomy of my men to join your campaign in war.” Your father says to him, and it ignites only a little bit of anger in Jaehyun.

“I don’t suppose you are much so interested to get your daughter back—“

“If she has gone I am not kneeling to your crown because I know this is not what she would want!” Your father finally breaks his composure. 

“Do you not wish to see her again?” 

“Of course I wish to see her again! Do you think that I am no father? Every day I think about seeing her again, even her mother. I’ve suffered more loses than you think.” 

“Then you must understand that I only waged this war against Okeanos because Muhan was the last person seen with her.” Jaehyun pleads, but your father seems to have his own resolve.

The older man sighs, “No. I cannot join you, my son.” 

Jaehyun does not respond at the mention of the endearment, instead he leaves your father to continue.

“I simply cannot. I love my daughter too much to allow something I know she would have not wanted. Truthfully, I see myself in you– so dangerously consumed by love - but it is the flame and the light in you that burns differently. When her mother died, Heavens know how much I wanted to avenge her, how much I wanted to take it out on any man or royal that questioned the depth of my grief.” He pauses, looks at Jaehyun.

“You know the one thing that stopped me? It was seeing the fear in Y/N’s eyes, knowing I was so willing to take life to answer to the loss I was facing.”

Jaehyun imagines you, a motherless child - the only pillar of hope left for your father.

“My son, believe me when I tell you, she would not have wanted any of this. There are reasons things have happened the way they did, and you have to trust that she will make her way back to you when the time is right. But please, allow me the peace of not being part of this war.”

Jaehyun leaves Gaia, not a soldier added. When he looked back at the kingdom, it all suddenly decayed as if centuries have rapidly aged it, he knew your father had been behind it.

The Kingdom Gaia lay into a hibernate state, life is stagnate akin to a seed waiting for water to spring back into life. In one swift transition, Gaia then ceases to exist for the rest of the Age of Sol. 

And now, the King of Sol was left with more questions than answers.

four years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Gaia:

“Should there be any more… concerns about our correspondence with the Kingdom Luna?” You ask your father, who has sent a materialized message to the said kingdom.

“Not so much is cause for concern with Luna, it is the process that irks me. It is too tedious.” He says, closing his eyes with two fingers pressed into his temple. It was true, because Luna was not considered much an actively participating kingdom in Celeste - it meant that being able to communicate with them was a bit of a hassle.

Before much else can be said, your Knight Hendery of oh-so perfect timing chimes into the study. “You have a,” Hendery begins, not sure how he will explain, “there is a, delivery? Yes, a delivery of sorts.”

“Sorry, am I to hear you correctly?” Your father asks Hendery who seems just as confused.

“Yes, from the Kingdom Sol.” 

Your father looks over to you, not having to know  more to imagine that it was King Jaehyun who had sent you something over. He did not have to know that your little attachment was turning into something, this he knew for certain. 

“Then it’s for you.” Your father then says flatly, but then it is your turn to be confused. Sure you and Jaehyun had been going back and forth sending letters to each other, but never did he mention anything about sending anything.

Hendery then perks up, the poor knight subject to the awkwardness. “It is actually for you, your royal highness— I mean, both of you are royal highnesses, but it is for you, King.” 

“Bring it in then.” Your father says and it takes Hendery’s signal for footmen to enter, carrying a large golden cage with an ever so peculiar creature inside.

It was its peculiar squawk that drew your father’s attention, the reds and oranges of the birds so majestically capturing. 

“Are you certain this is for me?” The King of Gaia asks Hendery who only nods.

“A phoenix,” you say, not believing what was delivered to your father’s study, “is that… real?” The bird coos at your voice, obviously favoring your presence. 

“It seems just about real.” Your father observes that even Jaehyun’s gift for him had a fondness for you.

This is what happens over the next two weeks, everyday a new gift arriving from Sol right into your father’s chambers. A new rare relic, a large almost impossible to carry weapon forged from the sun, an elixir that supposedly slows down aging (that you caught your father drink almost immediately), new furs for his closet, and countless other things you did not even bother to look at. All of them arriving day by day without fail. Jaehyun still never mentioning or explaining the sudden influx of gifts.

Throughout this time you notice that your father and the phoenix form an insufferable attachment, the animal following him throughout the entire day. It seems they even have silent conversations as your father goes around the kingdom to observe in his limited times of silence. 

The last thing delivered, an envelope on a golden plate. No more did your father want you in the same room when he realized it was a letter from Jaehyun directed to him. 

That was the only gift he kept to himself.

-

“You must rise and make haste.” You wake up the following day from the booming voice of your father who forced your curtains open, revealing the early bright rays of sun into your room and directly onto your face.

“Whatever for?” You complain, rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

“Prince Mark had sent you an invitation to one of their getaways to set up camp and enjoy the terrain of the mountains, did he not? I believe the dreadful event begins in a day, and traveling to those awful mountains takes just about that time.” 

“But I thought you did not want me to go, you never usually entertain the idea of Prince Mark’s part in the social season because you say their choice of area is always so grim to travel to.” You say, it’s always been the reason why you never really travelled to the Kingdom Hermes. 

“Well this time is a different time we live in,” you only now notice that the bird sits on his shoulders, but it has less feathers than you grew accustomed to and it seemed a little sickly, “maybe I am putting faith into this year’s trip.” He simply says.

“And you want me to be in attendance?” You make sure you’re understanding the situation correctly. There’s something about your father’s calm demeanor that scares you; he’s usually a worrywart about these things. Especially after you had fallen ill.

“Precisely.” He says. “Now please get ready before I change my mind.” 

You sit up abruptly only to ask him one thing before he leaves. “Is the bird alright?”

He looks at you, and it seems the bird is doing the same.

“Yes, you do know these beautiful things go back into ash. Suppose think of it as a long slumber, until life comes to wake it again until life rises from the ashes. It is a young bird the King of Sol had gifted me, it will go through this process regularly until it matures into a fine phoenix.” The bird cranes itself closer to your father as though it understands the affection.

“A good metaphor it is.” He says to himself, but you do not hear it as he had already left.

You wonder what it was that made your father change his mind.

a day hence, four years before the age of Sol, in the Kingdom Hermes: 

You had only gone to one of these once in your life, and it had been when you were only thirteen - erasing the horrible memory of the grueling hills and mountains you had to pass through to get to the camping grounds where Hermes hosted these short-lived dwellings. 

The roads were narrow and winding, each rock an obstacle for the wheels of your carriage— encountering a stop or two now and then when your horses had to be checked up on. Why did the Kingdom of travel and communication choose to make roads these precocious? Something you would never understand.

There were no other travelers on your way to Hermes’ camping grounds, for you were the last to go. Your presence not at all anticipated on these roads.

Thick dense forests surround the serene sight of the camping grounds. It is a full of small well-distanced cabins, some smaller pitched tents and a large common tent pitched in the middle, a lake shining at the very end of the clearing. Not at all like how you remember it, perhaps it had improved over the years you hadn’t gone.

Giving your own ensemble of knights and footmen the rest they deserve, you inform them that they are allowed to spend the rest of the evening looking for their designated cabins and to mingle as they please. It takes some convincing for Hendery to follow suit but you manage to convince him that you needed this time by yourself to properly assimilate for once. You were hyperaware that you were always so, literally, guarded. This made you feel like you were always so alienated and distanced from everybody else, an obvious bubble hiding you away from everything.

You already see people scattered everywhere when you arrive: some men drinking off to their own heart’s desire, some roasting food over the fires they have built for their own cabins, some simply enjoying the comfort of the outdoors. A few groups of ladies you noted were flocking to their own tents, obviously put up to gossip.

It is something you do not mean to do when you overhear the exchange happening between noble ladies from all over Celeste, none of them you were strangers to but none too close for you to be explicitly invited to join them either.

“So, the Princes of Ashtaroth are obviously the most handsome.” One says, it’s as if it’s a proposal on the list of things they were to pick on.

“They simply do not count, it’s unfair to count them in. They are literally the princes of the kingdom of beauty, that is ridiculous.” 

“Prince Doyoung is unbelievably handsome is he not?” One of the girls squeals.

“To you he is the most gorgeous man to walk the planet, but only because you harbor a little crush on the prince. And no, his wit does not count.” Another answers.

“Well if we were talking more about your fancy, it would definitely be the Princes of Tyr.” 

“Oh please Prince Johnny is engaged now to one of the more timid flowers of Ashtaroth too, and Prince Jeno is far too young for an old wench like you!” 

They laugh, and when the laughter subsides somebody else speaks up. It seems a cycle.

“If we were to talk about engaged men, Prince Muhan is a sight for sore eyes.” You almost scoff when you hear this, but you manage to stay quiet so that they won’t notice your snooping.

“Also engaged.”

“Or so we thought he was; it seems that all of Celeste was wrong about him and Princess Y/N. Maybe their friendship was lasting, perhaps they are just close and truly friendly.” 

“Except she’s now clearly attached to the most handsome man of all the land.” It’s a bitter tone that comes from the voice of whoever is speaking, but you hold in your own feelings because you know where this conversation leads.

“Oh the King of Sol.” It’s almost in unison that all these ladies sigh, their voices laced with desire. This is when you start to critically listen. 

“How could we forget to mention?”

“It’s because King Jaehyun of a different calibre.” 

“Often so unattached because he’s simply above all of us. Any and all of us.” 

“Well he is in some sort of attachment now, Princess Y/N must know some conjuring spells they keep secret in Gaia for him to be infatuated with her.”

It’s honestly a little insulting to hear that, especially when all of them laugh after it is said. 

“Oh come on ladies, we speak like he is no man at all. He’s had his… conquests before.” One speaks up again, and you don’t think that you much appreciate where their conversation leads and you are half tempted to walk away and forget you ever even stumbled upon their privacy— but another part of you wants to know more.

“Like I believe he could ever break free from his cloak of honor, why don’t you tell all of us about these conquests?” 

“You are in for a world of surprise when I tell you that the King of Sol was once a Prince of Sol who did not shy away from acting like such a breeding horse.” She snickers.

“Just ask Lady Kim, Lady Cho, and Lady Hwang about his… vigor. Those three are ever so willing to indulge anyone who will ask about their magical encounters with King Jaehyun during his run as a prince. Others don’t want to speak, but you can tell they must have had such a great time lying in his bed.”

Your skin crawls, and it’s not because you do not expect that Jaehyun had done those things. It was the Kingdom of Life you had come from: sex was something so normally regarded that you are sure that if it were anyone’s own relationship to sex being scrutinized you would’ve not been so reactive about it. It’s something you understand happens, but you’re sure what you’re feeling about Jaehyun in this exact moment is not particularly normal.  

Imaginings of all those ladies you were vaguely familiar with immediately crossed your mind, sudden flashes of their love affairs with Jaehyun already filling the vast space of your once quiet thoughts. If you could try to dig deeper into your brain for any of your earlier memories of Jaehyun when he was once a prince, maybe you could recall a handful of times that he did graciously come escorting some noble ladies to some events in the social season - and now you wonder what the extent of their relationships were.

Was it jealousy? Was it a deep insecurity of understanding that maybe you could not live up to lovers he might have had?

You weren’t sure, but your fists are curled into balls that flex into frustration. Perhaps it was the idea that you did not like to imagine things you did not know of Jaehyun, maybe you know so little of him that your acquaintance would never reach that level of honesty. Whatever this was, it bothered you beyond normal reason.

It was not a good idea to have listened for as long as you did, and you were too preoccupied eavesdropping to have noticed Jaehyun only a short distance away from you. Jaehyun also listening to a conversation not meant for him to hear, and noticing the way you stiff up in what he presumes to be disappointment as you listen and walk away.

-

He wanted to surprise you, the moment he saw you wandering alone in the vast camping grounds. 

Though he did not count on his letter to your father affecting his decision to allow you to go to this gathering in Hermes, he had a little spark of hope that his weeks of trying to earn your father’s favor would work. 

It started with the phoenix, which was not an easy feat to get his hands on. Then many other material things of priceless value followed after, but he did not take your father for a fool. Material things could be worn out and thrown away, but the words of an earnest man held value to a much higher degree— especially to a royal man like your father. 

A proper way to speak to a king from another.

Jaehyun’s letter detailed how he recognized how the gifts would give off the assumption that he could give his way into the warmth of your father’s approval, but he could only hope that your father could understand that he was willing to do more for you. The rest were desperate vulnerable writings about how he cannot handle being apart from you much longer, but he will respect the reservations your father may have about meeting alone in private.

So he asked, or more so begged, that he allow you take part in the regular social event Hermes held. Promising that he would not be ludicrous enough to try anything stupid because there were positively eyes everywhere that would keep him in check.

Now it was to his surprise that you were here in the forest, journeying your way through the rocky cliffs of the mountains. 

You were here. In the flesh. How excited he was to see you in person after only depended on your written words to fuel the longing he held for you, but it was not enough.

He wanted to gently lay a hand on your shoulder, or try to hop out in front of you to get your attention - but you were so focused on standing outside a group of noble ladies’ tent that he couldn’t help but wonder why your eyebrows were furrowed.

It started out a normal conversation when Jaehyun listens in, talking about handsome royal men like these flock of women typically do. He cannot say he did not find it insulting that they question your relationship; there was absolutely nothing unbelievable with being absolutely entranced by you. 

Nothing could have prepared him for where the conversation was headed. When they open the topic of his conquests, he half expects you to walk away— but he isn’t so surprised when you decide to stay. You expression an unreadable combination of surprise and frustration. 

Was he to feel shame? He could not deny he made some rather… unsavory decisions to indulge in his primal urges in the past. He could neither feel like the manner in which he was spoken about was degrading for far worse things could have been said. 

But then names come up, none of them are untrue. Jaehyun did have several sexual partners, and recalling them all now don’t make them any much important. They were part of things that have happened in the past, and they were far too distant to hold much value or interest anymore.

Jaehyun sees your hands ball into fists: perhaps the most expressive he’s seen you, and then you still manage to gracefully stomp off.

only an hour hence, four years before the age of Sol, in the Kingdom Hermes: 

You find a quiet corner nearing the mouth of the lake, you can see less of the crowd and notice the twinkling of the waves of water against the bright moonlight. 

Was it wrong of you to be so affected by this?

Surely it was normal for you to feel, it was not very much the characteristic of a Princess to feel so outwardly emotional but you were trying your best to be calm about the surge of emotions you were feeling.

In a matter of perfect timing, you hear someone speak, a little startling because you did not have any inkling that anybody was near.

“I apologize if I startled you,” Jaehyun holds both his hands to his chest level, palms facing you, “I just noticed Hendery with the other knights and I went out to seek you.” He’s not telling you the whole truth but you do not know that.

You have not seen each other in weeks, and the atmosphere was strange and it was awkward. It almost feels like the first time you’re speaking to each other again. Was this how it was going to be?

“Oh, I just wanted to acclimate on my own. I’m not used to these mountains and this… forest.” Was probably the most believable thing you could think of saying, and Jaehyun only partially believes you because he knew what you just heard. And he knew it affected you somehow.

“I did not expect you to be here.” 

He lowers both hands, slowly walking to be closer to you. Just enough for the moonlight to illuminate his face, just enough for you to know he is truly in front of you. 

You laugh, “What? In the forest?” 

“I meant here, in Hermes. I did mention it in our first correspondence that I noticed you were not the biggest fan of these camping excursions, so I did not hold much expectation.” 

You could have very well expected other ladies to arrive, eager to please his every desire. You think only to yourself. 

Maybe this was jealousy. And you did not like the way it tasted on your tongue.

He’s smiling at you now, you’re earning those two wells dotting his cheeks without even trying to be nice or kind about finally being together after weeks of anticipation. You wanted this moment to be a grand reuniting, where you could feel colors burst out from your chest the moment you would lay eyes on him. 

Instead you were now so preoccupied about the figurative distance between you. How you’d only become friends now. How you felt a generation away because he was older. How you honestly felt like a pathetic child waiting around a corner to understand the implications of the situation.

But then you had to keep yourself in your place, maybe you were assuming this relationship meant much more than it was. Perhaps you had only decided to kiss him, you were entertaining an idea. 

Maybe he did not feel the same.

“I did not think I would be here either.” You answer, holding yourself back from speaking with annoyance or anger. He thankfully does not notice.

Jaehyun moves toward you much closer now and suddenly you become too aware of your own being. Your hands feel clammy, and you wonder if he will scrutinize your figure even with all the layers of cotton and fur you had on to protect yourself from the cold. You wonder if maybe you should have let your handmaiden apply more rouge, maybe you did not look as beautiful as those other girls who would go out of their way to polish every single surface for him.

“Did your father allow you?” He asks.

“It wasn’t a matter of him allowing me,” you say, pressing both of your palms together, “he persuaded me told me go.” 

“I expected more from him you know.” Jaehyun admits, he places a hand on your shoulder. “It took so much convincing, it made me believe that he wouldn’t have allowed you to come here knowing I would be in the same place. I even wrote him that letter to explain to him that I would do everything to make our meetings of honor and of virtue.” 

Of honor and of virtue. You do not know if it is a compliment or an insult that he regards you as if you were made of porcelain and not of skin. Were you not desirable that not even his carnality must peak through?

You roll your eyes, and you know that he feels the shift in your demeanor, but his hand does not falter where it is planted on your shoulder. You can feel is emanating warmth.

“Am I to understand that ‘tis the sole reason that you’ve done so much as to impress my father?” In that slip of the tongue, you cannot help but make your words come out much sharper than intended. By the way Jaehyun looks at you, you can tell he is a little stunned by your tone.

“Of course I wanted you to be here.” He admits, and even if you do not want to feel the warmth that blossoms from your own chest - you cannot help it.

“Two weeks of gifts from Sol, only for me to make the journey to this crowded clearing.” You say, and his other hand makes its way to your empty shoulder.

“I did not mean that I wanted only for you to be here,” he pulls you closer, now one hand cautiously on your back, “I meant that I would have been on my knees mercilessly if need be at your father’s doorstep if it meant that I would only catch a glimpse of you.” 

“You do not mean that.” You whisper.

“If it takes for me to bring down the sun to make you believe my sincerity, I’m willing to do that for you.” He says, the distance between your chests so much less than a world apart.

Jaehyun speaks up again, “and I’m to believe, if you are sincere, that you owe me my kiss.” 

“If you take me nothing more than a pastime, you can take your kiss up on any other noble lady here.” 

“I cannot deny what you heard.” He says, looking into your eyes, and you immediately understand that he knows what you did hear.

“So you’ve been following me?” You point.

“I would not say that, I did notice your arrival and I wanted to surprise you. It lead to me being somewhere where I was not supposed to be, that’s all.”

“Why didn’t you stop me when you knew what I was starting to hear?”

“And save you from what? The truth of who I was back then?” 

You only blink at him.

“I cannot change those choices, they are a part of me now as much as they’ll ever be— I cannot change the past even if I wanted to. I’ll admit I was foolish, I did a great deal of messing around, but I am no longer that way.” He says, and it sounds like he’s trying his best to convince you.

“What do you want me to believe of you?” Your voice is much quieter, because you know that there is truth in which he speaks.

“I want you to believe that I do not want to use you and discard you, I admit that when I was a little younger I let the promiscuity get into my head. Princess, I understand that you are younger than I and I do not want you to think I’m taking advantage of you because you’re more malleable in that stage—“

“You do not have to consider me in that light.” You cut his rambling off.

“I just, I do not want you to believe what other people may say. If there is truth to it or not, I believe we must tread through this together— without the outside noise.” He sighs, hoping he made enough sense for there to be resolve.

You close the distance between you by taking him in for an embrace, this gesture startling him but you immediately feel how he softens. Your face buried in his chest, and only then you realize just how tall he is.

“I apologize, I just felt so overwhelmed with the idea that other people knowing these things about you presented the possibility that our attachment was disingenuous.” You admit.

“I’ll tell you every single detail if need be.” He laughs, and you feel the earthy tone of his bellowing voice when he does - the vibration traveling to where your head was placed.

“To what value should I hold that?” Looking up at him, only to find him looking at you.

“To every single aspect of the matter.” Jaehyun says with certainty.

“And which matter is that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“To every matter of this relationship.”

“You know, you must be very particular about these things, you would not want a lady to assume an attachment be worth something it really isn’t.” 

He can only laugh again, “I do not mean to rush you. It is a waste of your youth for me to maintain a pace that I want, and that is unfair.”

“So you want me to wait?”

"Perhaps."

You laugh, "do you not find me desirable?"

He stiffens only a little, "believe me when I tell you that it is taking every single fibre of my being to maintain self-control when I only get so little as a glance of your shadow and a whiff of your scent."

"So is it appropriate for me to want to rush you?"

“No. I want you to breathe in the air of your youth, the same wind does not come across for you twice.”

Then the realization returns to you. Your borrowed time. 

“Alright,” your voice goes quiet again, “thank you for considering that of me, my king.” 

You savor the embrace, lulling yourselves into the peaceful quiet of each other’s arms as everything in the background fades past you. Except your impending doom is weighing on your mind.

~

You’ve come to treasure early mornings, when the sunlight just comes to a hilt - and the cold evening still lingers as you begin to smell the morning dew evaporate from the blades of grass and the margins of the leaves. Ever since you’ve become ill, you tried your best to get up early at times to admire morning spilling into the night sky. 

It seems you’re earlier than most, not feeling or seeing a single soul awake as you stroll around the camping grounds. 

After your brief moment with the King of Sol last night, you excused yourself - feeling a familiar build up of sick black wanting to leave your body. You thought it only a little cruel that he dismissed you without question, probably assuming you were still upset about what happened overhearing the ladies in the tent.

But it was much better that he blamed something else than find out about your condition. 

You were being selfish, playing so closely with both your feelings knowing that you had no idea how to keep yourself safe and alive for much longer.

Finding yourself entering the trees, you notice a different quiet. The songs of birds seem much different here, you imagine this to be the sound of the birds in Kingdom Aether - maybe close to the bird calls you had heard Prince Sicheng make during one occasion. The breeze is different, passing through each tall oak and pine, scents wafting through the air.

Time seems to be lost when you see the rays of sunlight come through, illuminating each shadowed branch. You do not realize how deep you’ve gone, and how far long you’ve walked.

It is something you are not prepared to see, something you thought only started to manifest in your own kingdom. 

The tinges of blacks and sludges of green were familiar, it had been happening in Gaia irregularly ever since you became sick. Some lakes turning a deep black, fish floating dead and atop the surface of the water - flowers wilting in large patches, harvest of grain reduced to half, some horses and cattle found lifeless in the mornings— seeming to have decomposed for months but have passed for only a few hours.

Life was being taken, with no real way to comprehend how that came to be. A decay was spreading, patches of land - the sky - the water - they were all experiencing the same illness you were. 

This was a plague on life. On everything you stood for.

Right here, in the forests of Hermes, the decay was beginning in a few old trees. Their once sturdy trunks, now an almost melted mess of the same dark hues you had coughed up. An elk, however so beautiful its antlers, lay lifeless in the middle. You can see the expose of its ribs, viscera mangled and splayed across the dark ground. No sign of other animals or insects, only the worms and the centipedes avoiding the grueling scene. 

You approach it, even when the hesitation in the stiffness of your steps oppose the almost voluntary way your feet move forward. 

Months of torture knowing you were ill, and all these weeks of knowing that life all around was diseased with the same fate. This was the only time you found whatever courage it was to seek it out yourself. With all the power you have been reserving, you hover a hand over the dead patch of land, trying to command anything you had. Anything to bring it back to life. 

To your dismay, nothing at all happens. Where typically flowers would bloom upon the command of your hands, or the wounded would heal, there was nothing your will could do at this moment. 

Instead, a sharp pain ricochets into your palm, a seething burn that stings through as if cut by a blade. No visible force is doing this, but it’s as though you are wounded. 

You gaze upon your palm, surprised to see that you are truly bleeding and you have been cut open.

Before you can process how that came to be, a drop of your own crimson blood lands onto the patch of dead grass— and suddenly, life is willed as you intended. It is almost so immediate, how the trees seem to stand tall once again - the timber stalks boasting in height. An elk so gloriously beautiful in how it stands, how it looks at you. Everything so alive, so starkly different from what you’ve seen.

An unpleasant feeling in your stomach churns, for blood magic has been known to have died so many years ago. It seemed only a dark, shunned myth. 

Until now that you have seen it with your own eyes. And it makes you absolutely repulsed, it makes you sick.

You turn back, the blood curling from within your body. None of your worst nightmares could fare the fear that ran through your body. 

Running back into the camp, you do not notice Jaehyun standing around outside your lodgings when you near the curtained entrance.

“Y/N?” He asks, seeing you visibly in distress, you do not like how he is concerned. He should not be. It was already so unfair that you were taking advantage of his kindness like this, it would hurt him to know the truth that you were hiding. And you knew it would destroy both of you to pretend that your curse would not affect this attachment.

You had to end this now before it could do him any more harm to know— to be any closer to the truth.

“If you know what is good for you my king, we shall stop this.” You say with conviction, and it kills you to see the hurt that wells up in his eyes. 

“Y/N? What is this about? I had thought that we had talked and—“

“Please,” you say, “please,” you beg in a whisper, “this must end.” 

Before you can shed tears over the lump that seems to be blocking your airways, you leave him behind to enter your lodgings. 

You do not hear him walk away. You know that he waits, even if you do not come back out that day.

three years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Ashtaroth:

“Has much so changed in a year, dear brother?” Prince Johnny nudges at Jaehyun, who has drifted away in thought - staring at the new sort of display for the ball. Perhaps Jaehyun was not the best to understand art of the underlying messages of its beauty, or perhaps Ten and Taeyong have properly lost their minds to come up with a cohesive idea.

“Maybe.” He takes a while to answer.

But he knows the answer is yes, much and very little can change in a year. That he knows to be true.

“Wasn’t it almost exactly a year ago here in Ashtaroth? We accidentally drank those aphrodisiac-laced drinks, thankfully Princess Y/N was there to—“ Johnny stops himself, aware of now how even more disconnected Jaehyun looked. He shouldn’t have mentioned you at all. 

It was still a sensitive subject.

“Well, I suppose Prince Taeyong, Ten, and Jaemin always do manage to surprise us with… decorative arrangements. Maybe nothing much has changed.” Johnny says instead, trying to save himself the embarrassment of forgetting the one thing that he knew bothered Jaehyun.

“Yes maybe some things do not change.” Jaehyun nods, pretending he wasn’t affected by just the mention of your name. Like you hadn’t been the one occupying each thought he had for the better part of a year now.

After you told him to end things in Hermes the previous year, you suddenly left without telling a soul. The entire delegation from Gaia just deciding to leave the excursion, leaving everyone in different curious whispers. A message flew in for Prince Mark in his domain that there were urgent matters in Gaia that needed you to be summoned back, and there were no more questions after that.

He tried writing to you at first, but he knew you never kept your windows open - never waiting at noon to let the sunlight in. His letters piling up unsent in the corner of his study, where he altogether just stopped sending any.

You hadn’t been present in any more social events, no one left with a clue about your absence. Except an overheard comment from Prince Muhan once, saying you were preoccupied arranging things in Gaia. 

Something that bothered Jaehyun - because it meant that Muhan was still close enough to you to know what was going on at least. Slowly, people began to forget that you two ever had an attachment as well. 

He had thought of reaching out to your father, but he could not conspire something he knew you would be against; you had told him to stop, you’d even pleaded with him.

In the year that followed, he adjusted quite well into his position. Many heard of the well boosted prosperity of Sol, and though Jaehyun’s emotions were entirely elsewhere— he poured himself into his kingdom. It was a very welcome distraction, realizing he needed to pay attention to other things of importance to keep his heart stalled.

An unwelcome distraction however, came in the form of his political advisors and his own set of knights— bothering him of the same ordeal over the past few months.

“You need a wife.” Was a constant phrase he’d heard. Something Sol did not demand of him when he was still their crown prince was an engagement; marriage was not something of importance at the time. He’d grown to prove himself in wit, in strength, and in the use of his power during those years. Romance was simply an accessory, and his people agreed that he would have no problem finding a partner when the time came. And now was the time that it was required of him, to keep up with appearances - to set a precedent for a matriarchal figure of the kingdom.

If the issue on finding a wife came anywhere sooner than when you first spoke at the ball in Ashtaroth a year ago, he would have had no qualms saying yes to the next random well-bred noble lady. 

Except now, all he could think of was you. It was you he pictured next to him, even if the possibility seemed close to none again. 

As if he’d never came close to being your king in the first place.

“There you are.” It’s perfect timing when Lady Cho snakes her arm, linking it into Jaehyun’s. The unwelcome distraction.

She was, it seemed, the main contender to become his possible fiancé. She was highborn of a noble family in Ashtaroth, she was easy on the eyes, and they did share a rather interesting history. In fact, he was certain she was one of the names mentioned when you overheard those ladies in Hermes.

Johnny is now aware he’s found himself in a very interestingly uncomfortable situation. It had not been five minutes since your name had been mentioned, and here was Lady Cho giving Jaehyun the most lovesick look. Jaehyun looking uninterested, maybe even intent to get away from Lady Cho.

“Anything worthwhile here, Lady Cho?” Johnny asks, just so the atmosphere would seem less dull.

She actually squeals in delight at the prospect of sharing information, “I did see Prince Muhan arrive, with a lady no doubt!” 

Jaehyun could be interested, but he does not make it a point to express it. Not when her grip on his arm was getting tighter with each word she enunciated.

“Whoever could that be?” Johnny asks again.

“I did not get the pleasure of having a good look at her, but she did have regally long dark hair. Maybe it would be worth mentioning that she had a good figure to her as well. I bet she’s beautiful.” 

It does not ring any bells, Jaehyun still imagines you the way he last remembers you. Medium length hair only a little past your shoulders— and your body although perfect in his eyes, still a developing shell shedding slowly of youth.

“Good for him.” Jaehyun comments, perhaps hoping Muhan had found himself a match. He could say, Muhan was rather busy this year - many campaigns throughout Celeste. Not an area experiencing drought. Jaehyun recalls Muhan traveling into Sol to deliver supplies of water for the people of the kingdom.

It was by all means very good, but he still held his reservations for the Prince of Okeanos. There was a sour spot planted in him, especially when he remembered how Muhan was linked to you. Maybe Jaehyun was bitter that you had severed ties with everyone, except for Muhan.

Laughter gets thrown into the air, Jaehyun does not realize how crowded the hall had become. There was a sudden surge of people, where he swore that there was enough room to breathe only moments ago.

He sees the long dark hair first, waves past hips - the unmistakeable curves of a woman. It’s only fitting then, that the twinge of attraction he feels gets validated when he finally sees the woman draped into Muhan’s arms. 

It’s you, smiling effortlessly at a joke someone had probably said. 

The hollow in Jaehyun’s chest begins to feel so sensitive, when he tries his best to be here in this moment. It feels that all the hall’s only a background, and all he can focus on is finally seeing you.

Have you been eating well? Although he can see you look like you’re blossoming into a woman now, he notices the frailness of your wrists when you make motions with your hands - and the indents of your collarbones more prominent than he remembers. You look tired, although there might be little indication for him to go by, he just knows that you do not seem so yourself.

Are you happier? There's a smile on your face but a tiredness at the wrinkles curling up in your eyes.

Did the silence give you enough peace? Was the smile on your face so genuine, did it feel like you could finally breathe now that you made the choice to end it? He wants to know if the year has been kind to you in any way at all, because it had not been that way for him.

“Oh, it is the Princess.” Lady Cho notices Jaehyun’s gaze so focused on you.

Johnny scrambles to finish his drink, calling Mark over for another full glass.

~

In the year that passed, you were busy.

Scrambling back into Gaia to tell your father of what had happened in the forest, you mapped out all the plagued areas in your kingdom. Your blood put into a small vial, and you had gone in secret to test whether they could be revived with a drop.

And they did. 

Suddenly death was wiped off, temporarily keeping things at bay. 

Though it left you with three problems.

First, you knew the illness was spreading in other kingdoms. It would mean you had to employ the help of others to keep this secret. It only took a message to Prince Sicheng of the Kingdom Aether, asking him to scope the skies for anything that was reminiscent of the scenes you described. It was to your advantage that Sicheng had been a rather quiet man, discerning in his own political choices and well understanding of the matter at hand. After you had identified those areas, you needed to speak to Prince Muhan. 

But the closeness of your families warranted an explanation, one he took quite well. One secret he promised to keep to the grave, even if it seemed your engagement no longer held true. 

He agreed to be the one to hold campaigns around Celeste, mixing only a drop of your blood into the water he would cast upon the places Sicheng had mentioned.

Second, the matter of your blood. 

Blood magic was something no one had quite been familiar with, the only clues you had were the scribes of the Kingdom Luna - some passages in books of your old library had mentioned something of the Moon Kingdom. You had to start there.

In the meantime you had to bleed, and it drained a lot of life out of you. If there was anything about it, you experienced just how much it took a toll on your physical state - more so on your magic. The more blood you gave, the less you had the capacity to do much. You could not even make the flowers bloom around your gardens. Recovering after long periods of bleeding meant that you had to stay away from leaving Gaia, there was barely a chance for you to see more than the borders of your kingdom.

It frustrated you, but you had to keep it secret. Now only a select few Gaia, Okeanos, Aether, and Luna knew. 

Third, your heart.

Though there were moments that you had to take your responsibility as Princess, and now a not so certain herald of blood magic - you found yourself thinking about Jaehyun often. Even if you were so ridden with guilt about how you spoke to him last, you knew in your heart that it was the best way to keep him out of the burden of knowing.

At the rate of how things were unfolding, it seemed the threat of your death was not as terrible as it initially was, and it ached to know that you could not spend these days without even a word from Jaehyun. You had meant to write, but you knew you hurt him, and you did not want to be more selfish than you already had been. 

“You have to leave this castle.” Your father mentions once, your moping had come to be quite stressful for him. The bird on his shoulder looked a bit more aged now, its feathers thicker and richer in vibrant color.

It was not nice being bothered by the presence of a bird, but it reminded you so much of Jaehyun.

“And accomplish what exactly?” You ask.

“Well, you could do me the favor of giving me peace.” He says, “and perhaps it’s time to find a partner.” He suggests; he’s been the most enthusiastic that you made it through the winter. 

“The last thing we need—“

“You are the most unenthusiastic about your own life. Have a little faith that we can find a solution, perhaps life is more bountiful for you.” He ushers you out the door of his study, ordering Hendery to gather all your maids to prepare you for the upcoming ball in Ashtaroth.

~

“I heard a rumor.” Prince Muhan whispers to you, you sent a letter asking him to accompany you to the ball in Ashtaroth, knowing his presence typically hindered much attention. He kept to himself a lot, only really mingling with his own traveling audience from Okeanos. 

You were currently in a carriage together on the way to Ashtaroth, so conversation was good enough to distract you from the travel. “And what did that entail?” You wonder.

“Well, they were rumors. Plural.” He settled on agreeing with himself. “The first about, your blood magic.” 

“As if there wasn’t enough bad news already.” 

“Some scribes in my own kingdom came to find a piece of history in writing, and it wasn’t particularly mum. A little gruesome actually.” Muhan states. “The last royal who dabbled in the art, well, all kingdoms agreed to have her head on a stick - there was half a treaty left good enough to read.” 

It doesn’t surprise you, instead you ask, “and where might the other half be?”

“You have to hear the rest first. The document was signed mainly by one olden king from a certain kingdom.” 

“Well, the effort must have come somewhere.” You affirm.

“Yes, something about blood magic not bidding well with their people or something of such effect.”

“So are you going to tell me?” 

“The document was scorched.” 

And that was all you needed to hear.

What did Sol have against this magic?

“Oh.” You say, processing. “You said rumors, plural.”

“Yes, rumors, plural.” He sing songs, “since we’re at the topic of kings from Sol, the other is about your beloved.”

Muhan had surprisingly been accepting about severing your engagement, even more so receptive about your entanglement with Jaehyun during the previous year’s social season. He said that the kiss was all he needed to see to know that you were finally sticking true to your own heart, which he knew he could have never won over anyway.

But he remained now a good friend, and an even better ally.

“What about him?” It pains you to ask, but your curiosity overpowers it.

“Apparently, he’s been in search for a wife - and his current candidate… You’ll have to see for yourself.” 

You make your way into the ball, trying to slip in unnoticed - choosing a rather late time to arrive as you only expect there to be alcohol and endless conversation. But you underestimate the crowd that gathers when you do start to socialize, something you did not typically do before. It’s strange being cautious, anticipating Jaehyun’s presence - and yet being unsure if he was here.

Half of you wanted him to be too busy ruling a kingdom to show up, and half of you wanted to catch even the smallest glimpse of him if you could. 

“You look different.” Prince Ten comments, ever so observant, and it makes you a bit self-conscious because you’re aware of how different you do appear.

“I can only hope you mean well when you say that.” You respond.

“Even if you arrived in nothing but rags, I’m sure you’d still be the most beautiful here.” He says and you laugh.

In the middle of your laughter, your eyes seem to quickly drift off to where you feel like you’re being watched. It is then that you lock eyes with Jaehyun, seeing Lady Cho link her arm around his own. She’s telling him something, and you only notice Prince Johnny looking like he wants to detach himself from whatever the conversation was. 

But Jaehyun only looks at you. A stare so passive that you cannot place it as anger or sadness, you hope it’s either - you just want him to still care. 

Because you still care.

Even if you were sure that Lady Cho was the candidate Muhan mentioned, irking you to know that it is the same high born that was mentioned to have slept with him before. Maybe there was comfort in a familiar body, and you hoped Jaehyun chose right. She was beautiful, and you could not contest.

She would make a great queen.

All you can do now is look away the entire evening, pretending you don’t feel his gaze linger on you.

three years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Tyr:

It so goes that the social season follows a regular pattern, a grand ball in Ashtaroth, a joust and a feast in Tyr, the excursions up to Hermes, and whichever kingdom is open to hosting anything for the flock that would not refuse at the chance of being amongst other people.

Another joust was set to happen, you were now sat at a designated box, all decorated in the deep greens of your kingdom.

This year, you refused Johnny’s request at the kiss of luck. He had come to you in hopes that you would be willing to place the gift again, but you very politely declined - mentioning a handful of single noble women who would be happy to oblige. 

You were nothing more than a spectator this time, watching a sport you did not very much enjoy.

A lineup of all the princes and knight participating parades across the field before the joust officially starts, and you cannot help but try to count. Everybody you knew would participate would be there and young noblemen who’d never had the chance to joust before, but there were no forerunners from Sol. 

Your eyes are fixed to see the boxes across from yours, a space of field in the middle, you hadn’t noticed it empty - but you could now notice it being filled up with people in flags of a golden sun. 

“The King of Sol decided not to be part of the joust, if you were wondering.” Hendery discretely speaks next to you as you do notice Jaehyun settle down at the same level of seats as you. It was awkward having to face him directly, but you were left the comfort of distance. Lady Cho still by his side but she seemed uninterested at the joust, more so trying to get his attention.

The joust goes by quickly, the breaking of splinters and noblemen falling of horses a cackle of sound you never grew so used to. It’s Jaehyun’s hard gaze that you have to avoid, and it felt like you were unwillingly gluing your eyes on the field to avoid having to look up at his face. It already hurt you to know he was a proximity away, so close enough to see but still far away.

“Champions,” the King of Tyr announces in perfect fashion when the last two contenders are narrowed down, “it is time for the kiss of victory. The Lady Kim will give her blessing to her champion of choice, between the Knight Hyunjin from Ashtaroth and Prince Jeno of Tyr.”

There was an obvious choice for Lady Kim; everyone knew that between the two contenders, she had already been promised to the Knight Hyunjin. 

It’s almost riveting, when she steps down, and you notice that she does not even look at the knight’s way. Instead she goes straight for Prince Jeno, who seems so flustered. Everybody in the stands all curios and mildly appalled that she did not choose the man she was supposed to. 

She whispers something to him, and he guides a hand to her shoulders - and you know well enough to read his lips. He’s telling her not to worry. It is made obvious that there was something going on between the two.

Then she places a kiss on his cheeks, and you feel yourself all flushed with a familiar feeling.

That had been you and Jaehyun not long ago, in the same predicament. 

You can only look up from the field to see Jaehyun looking at you still, despite the lady at his side. It’s the first time you can clearly tell what he feels in the way he looks at you. It is a feeling of sadness. 

You and him both know you are witnessing reflections of yourselves. 

~

It is an uncomfortable thing to be stuck in the middle of rowdy feasts. Every joust in Tyr entailed a long session of bards singing their tales, banging on hard wood tables cut from large trees, and ale and wine being spilt more than it was drunk. You never really lasted more than twenty minutes of formalities during this part of the function, zooming out to leave early. In last year’s case you made your way to the garden.

You were lucky that Johnny’s wife was next to you, she was just as well-adjusted to these festivities in Tyr as you— which was barely adjusted at all. There was a silent agreement between the two of you, to simply be receptive around the long table of royals overlooking all that was happening. It seemed you found a friend in her gentle character, recalling the story about the gardens in the kingdom that Johnny had made for her. They were a beautiful contrast. You were happy that you had company.

Still, you cannot help but notice Jaehyun in your periphery. Feeling helpless that Muhan and Sicheng were sat way at the far end of the table, and Hendery was in one of the knight’s tables away from guarding you. 

It’s a surprise when your father arrives late into the function, he was never so fond of going to these types of events and left you in his stead on behalf of Gaia. Once upon a time, your father and Johnny’s had been quite close. Gaia and Tyr were somewhat allies in times of disagreement among kingdoms, and they had lead their troops into battle together. So your father being accommodated a seat next to the King of Tyr was expected.

What wasn’t expected however, was your father calling the entire dinner hall’s attention for a toast.

“I hope I do not come to this feast unwelcome,” He starts off, met with the silence of willing ears, “nor do I want to come off as rude to bid the attention to something completely irrelevant to something such like a joust.” 

You want to be swallowed by the velvet of the seat you were restrained to, feeling secondhand embarrassment if it were such a thing.

“I must take advantage of the attendance of all important representatives of each kingdom in this very hall, and the kindness of my old friend who permitted me to make such an announcement.” Your father continues, and you hope that he just gets to the point. 

He clears his throat, taking a good eye around the room where every soul had been earnestly listening. Even all the royals and high borns wondering whatever it could be he wanted to say.

“This is the season that I announce, on behalf of the kingdom Gaia, that our Crown Princess finds a husband. Or rather, a time where we welcome suitors for the princess.” 

A pin could drop, and perhaps everyone would hear it. The air feels sucked out of the room, and you cannot believe your own ears. You should have seen this coming, after all the faux optimism your father had been disillusioned with. 

Johnny’s wife lays her hand on your lap very gently, finding your hand to squeeze. It is a gesture of comfort, one you need at the moment. You close your eyes for a few seconds, before finding composure in your own body.

“A toast, to the Princess Gaia. A toast to finding love that is true.” The King of Tyr raises his chalice, and everybody erupts in a cheer.

Everyone except you, Johnny’s wife, and Jaehyun.

a few weeks hence, three years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Hermes:

This was the last place you wanted to be, but you were here nonetheless, surrounded by trees again in the middle of the mountainous forests.

After your father’s announcement, you could no longer count even with three sets of hands the amount of suitors that came to visit your kingdom. An absolutely horrific experience to entertain all guests for a sit down in your drawing room, you’d grown weary of pretending to be present during small talk.

Every nobleman and royal came with particular reasons for you to consider their engagement, and each reason proved to be selfish or absurd. Or perhaps you had your reservations because you could not find it in yourself to be interested in any of them.

To your dismay, this also meant that your quest to figure out your cursed blood magic was halted— making conversation with Sicheng and Muhan all the more difficult. On a few occasions Muhan had to pretend he was a suitor, cutting in line of whoever was interested to hold you hostage in another elaborate attempt to woo you. 

There was some commotion about this, suddenly it became a fast spreading rumor that Muhan was trying to mend back an old engagement. Denying this would have meant you had to admit to your secret, which was much more dangerous. So you find yourself once again associated with the Prince of Okeanos, but maybe now to your advantage.

Even so, it makes you wonder if Jaehyun ever considered expressing any interest in the matter of you. No men from Sol ever entered Gaia, none ever expressing a desire to wed the only princess in Celeste. You wonder if he had heard the rumors at least, of you and Muhan - how that would seem in his judgement. 

But it was so rich of you to assume that he would still care after you pushed him away. Maybe you would see him here in this retreat in the forest, and you condition yourself to be satisfied if you could only see the outline of shadow. That would be enough.

Your lodgings in Hermes are not as peaceful as you remember. Though everything was kept the same way it was before, it’s hard to ignore that you were now always bothered by suitors.

“May we please… promenade?” Prince Muhan struggles as he spent a good few minutes pushing through the men crowded outside your door, appearing before you in the small common area of the cabin designated to you.

“Is it important?” You wonder if he had any new news.

“No, but I suppose you want to not feel like a prisoner here. It’s stuffy always being inside and well, I think I do just the trick to keep all these admirers of yours away.”

“Yes, dear friend, you have that effect.” You say, dusting yourself off to find a good overcoat to wear.

“Did my father put you up to this?” You ask him once you’ve gone out to walk, your gloved hands carefully gripping his forearm. A great discovery to ward off any attempts to get near you. 

“Put me up to what?”

“Babysitting me as if you were my wet nurse.” 

“Well, your father did cause all this unwarranted attention now that you’re so available in the marriage market.” He rolls his eyes, he was also obviously annoyed having to always get past men to have to speak to you.

“Why are you looking out for me so much then?” 

“Because we are good friends now, are we not? I made a vow to protect you with all of this… curse. And I know the social season is hard on you especially after the previous one.” He tries to explain, and you know where he’s leading at. Especially now that you notice you’ve been promenading in circles - repeatedly passing by a tent occupied by Prince Johnny, Prince Mark, and Jaehyun. 

“What made you believe that?”

“I don’t believe it, I know it to be true princess.” Muhan sighs, “I’m trying to weaponize myself and my knowledge on a man’s ego to prove you are being stupid about this.”

Stupid. He’s never been so forward with you before, maybe that was the beauty in no longer being set-up to marry him was that he could be honest and have a sense of humor. Maybe he was a good friend now indeed.

“Stupid about what?”

“You’ll see what another stupid man sedated with misconstrued jealousy can conjure in his mind. Maybe I can spread a few rumors that I am intent on rekindling our old engagement, only for the sole purpose of entertainment of course.” He comments, walking off now to finally finish the loop you’ve been going around in.

You see this excursion to Hermes up to its very end, with only a few stolen glances of Jaehyun. Your eyes meeting once in a while on accident, and your heart hurting every time they do.

a month hence, three years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Gaia:

Among the many things your father had done out of sheer absurdity, this one takes the biggest slice of cake.

Gaia was to host a ball for the social season, this being quite rare in itself. All because your father was interested in making such a big deal of your formal welcoming into society— something about the formality of welcoming marriage.

While the rest of your kingdom was scrambling to do their tasks to accommodate the behemoth-amount of guests that Gaia was not used to, all you really had to do was stay put and put on your best gown. Your face already worn out from practicing a forced smile.

What this ball was for, you didn’t quite understand, but you were meant to be a spectacle than a host.

You sit next to the throne your father was designated, a makeshift hall made in your vast gardens - everything crafted with the trees and ornamental flowers. It was almost like a building of its barebones, as though a greenhouse without glass in the middle of the nature your kingdom boasted - though the greens were guided to create a roof-like structure. 

If Gaia were to host balls, they hosted very few but very grand ones. Taking advantage of the magic of life— influencing the movement of wildlife and greenery. 

The effect of awe is evident with every guest that arrives, and in your thoughts you can quietly count off each kingdom that does come into your gardens. You’d heard from Hendery that your father took the liberty of inviting every kingdom, and that meant invitations had been sent to Sol.

And you found yourself waiting on the young king, even if you had no right to.

With each noblemen who had the intention of declaring their interest in your hand, they presented elaborate gifts or even their own talents in poetry, perhaps in wielding a sword, or even a song or two. Prince Muhan even asked for your hand in friendship, earning a comical smile from you - leaving everybody else confused at your inside joke. It all conspired throughout the course of the morning up until the courses of lunch were served and eaten.

You were bored out of your mind, the smile on your face betraying your true feelings. Even your father seemed to be less and less enthusiastic about the entire ordeal. 

It was his fault, really.

The long line of suitors seemed to have been done saying their piece, everybody retreating to a table to find their own company. The ending should have been a relief, but you can’t help but feel disappointed at the few empty seats where Prince Johnny sat— knowing very well that it would be Jaehyun occupying at least one of them. 

The simultaneous chatter serves as background noise as you try to imagine his presence, and it’s the bright rays of the sun rising at high noon that break your thoughts.

It all happens quickly, motions of people arriving. The swarm of familiar whites and golds, it seemed delegates from Sol came out of nowhere. 

Jaehyun walks in, behind a few of his knights, and he holds a rather determined look to his face. 

“The King of Sol.” One of the heralds of Gaia announce, as they make their way to the very front of the hall to your table. The stones of the garden floor rustling in the organized manner that Jaehyun arrives in.

“To what do we owe the presence of a king?” Your father’s voice bellows across, as if Jaehyun was a stranger to him. Like the little phoenix wasn’t perched up along the vines near behind your father, Jaehyun’s gift still kept so dear.

“I intend to express something I regret not being able to much sooner, to everybody in Celeste at least,” Jaehyun looks around, and it’s the first time you hear his voice after one year - an unmistakable confidence there, “I know plenty men here have done their due diligence to express their interest in the princess, and it is quite rude of me to express myself much later than all the others.”

Your father leaves room for Jaehyun to continue, but the King of Sol cannot look at you.

“It is in all my desire to marry the Princess Gaia.” He says, and all princes and noblemen alike look floored. “My intentions and my feelings have not changed from the year before, and it is in my shortcomings that I did not stay true to my words and my own heart. I find that I cannot stay away from her much longer.”

You can only stare onto the ground in which he steps, hoping his feet will spare you from having to look at his face. 

“I hope you understand as the king of your own domain that I took the time to think over my choice to come to you now— as you know I am in search of my own wife, and now the princess seeks a husband. No union will ever be as strong as such.” Jaehyun speaks directly to your father.

Then, in an act so demeaning, Jaehyun kneels in front of your father - in front now of all of Celeste to see. “Even if I shall beg for this honor.” You suddenly recall your conversation in Hermes - how he did say that he would do this for you, and now he really was.

The bird squawks, breaking the silence that follows, and your father clasps his hands together and stands up from his seat.

“Very well then, King of Sol. If you insist on proving yourself, I shall give you one year. But I shall now announce to all people of the land that this engagement is final, and will forevermore be.”

All eyes then turn to you, now stunned. 

end of part two.

the fifth year of the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom of Luna:

In the small Kingdom of Luna, on the fifth year of the Age of Sol, a still body of a woman that had fallen into a deep slumber had finally awaken.

There’s a strange cold sensation at your feet, it seems to be the first thing you feel when light slowly enters your eyes as you begin to wake.

“Heavens! Oh, heavens!” You see an unfamiliar handmaiden who seems to be cleaning at your feet scream, alerting more unfamiliar faces to go into the chambers of your bright white room. 

This was the Kingdom of Luna, no other place could be mistaken for it as its architecture so distinct from the rest. The only Holy kingdom in all of the eleven, said to have been kissed by the moon itself— a kingdom most gently bright. It was the last place you remember journeying to, until you fell into darkness. 

“Where am I?” You ask the still shaking handmaiden, her disbelief utterly visible through her shaking hands. It seems as though she had been flooded with relief. Of course you knew which kingdom this was, but you were silently pleading with her to give you more clarity in that moment.

“You are in your bedchambers, Princess. You have been in slumber for five summers now you see. If I recall correctly you arrived in our kingdom during the last days of spring those five year ago.” She gave you an answer that was more than you had asked.

You had been in a sleep-like state for five years, it was something you could not comprehend— after all, you expected to fall into death’s arms to never wake again.

“I… I do not know what to say…” You are able to speak, sitting up. You expect there to be pain, but none of it comes, you do not feel like you have been gone for five years - your body seems to be working just fine. 

Before the handmaiden can comfort you, Hendery hurriedly enters your chambers, “Princess!” Your Knight has tears streaming down his face, his face flushed with disbelief.

“Hendery?” You ask, “What is happening?” You see your own reflection on his silver armor, he seems to be donning the seal of the Kingdom of Luna instead of your own Kingdon of Gaia, but that is not what continues to occupy your thoughts.

You see only a fraction of your reflection, it seems your once raven hair had turned silver white.

“Hendery? What has happened?” You look down at the long strands, your voice trembling at the sight.

Hendery sighs, “should we take a walk in the temple grounds, Princess?”

the sixth year of the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Sol:

“Are you certain that the Prince of Okeanos will follow through with his word?” Prince Mark of the Kingdom Hermes asked, seated on the right side of the King of Sol, their conversation barely understandable from two arm’s length away. The noise of the banquet hall filling the room as people from all the land arrive.

“He did mention that he’d give the King a good reason to end the war, I don’t take you for a fool dear old pal, but I wouldn’t have agreed to those terms.” Prince Johnny of the Kingdom Tyr commented, seated on the King’s left. Prince Johnny wasn’t afraid to hide his suspicions, coming from the kingdom that thrived on perfecting the art of war. “As impatient you may be at Hermes, Prince Mark, it may not be a question of certainty.” 

The King of Sol laughs, “you two worry so.” He reassures. “We’ve reduced Okeanos to desolation, all their allies have slowly turned their allegiances to my crown. The state of their oceans as barren as deserts.” His expressions turns dark. “If he says he’ll give me a reason to end this war that only left him with the short end of the stick, I’m inclined to believe him.”

Before any of the two can interject, the King of Sol stands from his seat. He raises his chalice to the room, “we make a toast to the Age of the Sun. To the Age of Sol!" 

He is met with the blasting boisterous sounds of laughter and praise, for nine kingdoms have gathered. All but three are not in attendance, and it is their allegiance that remains murky to the crown of Sol.

It takes no longer than a few counts for the trumpets to sound the arrival of a new kingdom in attendance. A herald announces loud and clear, “Prince Muhan of Okeanos has arrived!”

His anticipated guest is here, no air of pride in his stride or the stride of his companions. Though this came to be expected of the prince that ruled the domain of water after his defeat in the war, there was something missing.

“King Jaehyun.” Prince Muhan kneels, much to the shock of everyone in the banquet hall. The war has dragged on for six long years, never did anyone expect that it would end in this way - seemingly peaceful and less climactic.

The formalities do not entertain Jaehyun, he was growing impatient.

“I trust you know I am not much of a patient man, Prince Muhan,” Jaehyun responds.

“Yes, you wiped our domains almost clean in the shortest time any war had ever happened.” Muhan affirms, remaining knelt. It was only out of the respect of war that he recognized defeat. “I am lucky my head is not on a stake as you’d previously preferred.” 

“So… Where is this grand reason you hope I’d finish this war? Surely you are not willing to disappoint a room full of royals from all over all kingdoms of Celeste?” The tension in the room rises, as there is a radiant heat permeating the room, Jaehyun’s emotions akin to the sun’s heat. 

“Not all kingdoms, your highness.” Prince Taeyong of Ashtaroth says, seated next to Prince Mark. The kingdoms Luna and Gaia are not in attendance.

The trumpets sound once more. 

“Delegates from the Kingdom Luna!” The Herald announces once more, filling the room with complete silence.

The people of the Kingdom Luna were left untouched during the war; their holy grounds kept free of any bloodshed through all ages of man. Their land and their people were sacred, kept only to themselves and never elsewhere. 

While other kingdoms had harnessed and boasted the powers from which their kingdoms were named: Sol being of the people of the sun, Hermes the people of communication and journey, Ashtaroth of desire and beauty, Gaia of  life, Tyr of war and strength, Jove of justice, Kronos of harvest, Aether of the sky, and Okeanos of the water. Luna anchored the land to divinity, never blinded to each version of conceit that corrupted the other kingdoms.

There are whispers, wondering what this had meant. Jaehyun had been smart enough to figure out that this was Muhan’s bargaining chip. 

One by one in an organized fashion, more graceful and choreographed than any man lined up on the frontlines of war, the people of Luna enter the room in their whitest silks. 

Six years of war come across as a thought that scrambles through the young king’s mind, six years of almost senseless wrath, and he wonders what the kingdom that did not cross his mind once had that could make up for those six long years.

Was this some cruel joke? One he could not deal with using violence or force? The heavens know that his heart was driven to war because there was no other God to turn to in his time of need. His heart beats significantly faster, much to the disdain of everyone in the hall the heat only gets worse as he cannot control the feeling that bubbles inside of him. 

It’s only when you walk into the room that the heat fades and a lightness replaces it instead. 

It is you, but it appears not, your hair a perfect white glimmering silver— as if now you are the moon herself. So far removed from how he remembers you had looked like. 

Were you a ghost? Perhaps an apparition appearing at this very time of intensity. You don’t seem to be a ghost of his own delusion, as it seems that everyone is as presently shocked as he is to see you. 

You kneel next to Prince Muhan, “my king.” you say, and that’s what it takes to make him know you’re real. 

four years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Ashtaroth:

Balls in the Kingdom Ashtaroth were as frequent as they came. 

Beauty was something of an art that they incessantly perfected, but nothing was quite as exciting for them to host grand events to bring out the beauty of other kingdoms. Prince Taeyong and his younger brothers Prince Ten and Price Jaemin had mentioned once that although beauty was something they knew they possessed, nothing was quite so enthralling that marveling at the beauty of others. You do like to believe that they only use that as an excuse to stir up gossip, it seemed those two things worked hand in hand in this kingdom.

No ball was as exciting as this, for this was the first appearance of the Princess of Gaia after coming into her eighteenth year. 

“It seems we are promised with not just life this year.” Prince Ten comments, the three princes of the Kingdom looking down at the courtyard full of guests talking and drinking. The music was still subdued, the dancing reserved for later when the hosts would feel like everybody was appropriately intoxicated. 

“You speak in poems brother, life— Princess Y/N of Gaia will surely be a spectacle.” Prince Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“Lest we forget she has silently been promised to the Prince of Okeanos.” Ten responds, “perhaps eyes of interest are unwelcome to a woman guarding her virtue when it is something of common knowledge that it is promised to another.” 

“Perhaps you have been drinking the wine behind our backs, or maybe the ale you’ve been drinking has come to spoil.” Jaemin shoves his older brother, they both laugh.

Taeyong has been listening to their conversation, “you joke brothers, but no real promises between Muhan and Y/N have been made. Only jokes and pushes about how close the two had seemed when they were younger, being of the same age as well.”

Something catches the eldest prince’s eyes. 

“Where the Princess Y/N’s true heart lies, well, that may be cause for much debate…” Prince Taeyong’s gaze leads to the newly crowned King of Sol, arriving just in time to allow his own conjecture to be made in secret, “or maybe it may be the cause of war.” He whispers to himself, gazing upon your arrival coming soon after the king. 

Below the view of the three princes of Ashtaroth, the young King of Sol’s thoughts are filled with much dismay.

The noise of chatter cannot contest to the noise present in his own mind— for he does not care so much for the ornaments embellishing Ashtaroth in this moment. Much it may come to the dismay of the gracious hosts. He does not care for the mindless conversation, simply excuses to take control over another and rope them into seduction. 

Functions like these serve the more simple-minded, formal gatherings made to feed the desire to gossip, make alliances, and entertain romance. This was not supposed to be his top priority as a newly crowned king, but in the name of alliances - he has come to establish his presence. The propriety of his title meant he had to tolerate the social season.

Though, he cannot say he completely dislikes all these balls, there were a few things that he could tolerate. And there were very few things he was fond of, not that he would say that aloud or tell a soul.

Few of the things he could tolerate, were of course, his friends. 

“Old pal!” Prince Johnny makes his way over to Jaehyun, “or should I be calling you your highness the great young King of Sol?” He jokes, and it earns a laugh from Jaehyun.

“My Overlord would be preferable, but I suppose you cannot do much better than that.” Jaehyun is able to joke and it earns some hearty laughter. 

“Have you seen Mark or Taeyong anywhere in this mess? I cannot understand what this ball is for.” Johnny asks.

Jaehyun tuts, “as if any of these balls are made with much thought or care. You are not meant to understand them.”

“Spoken truly like a king, so unimpressed by it all.” Johnny teases. “Try to enjoy these moments dear friend, you’ll worry more about more important matters when the glue on the crown hardens. Then suddenly menial balls such as these are a distant memory of rest.”

“Easier to say than to put into action.”

“Please don’t be so sour, be a wonderful young king and indulge in the ale and the allure of Ashtaroth! We are in the kingdom of beauty!” Johnny hands him a cup and nearly forces him to drink it all in one go, the two already in a clause to drink themselves over this whole thing.

“Oh! Oh no Prince Johnny please do not consume it all!” A female voice cuts in.

Of course it’s you, Jaehyun hasn’t had the pleasure to speak with you all that long or all that often but he remembers your voice no matter how it has bloomed into maturity. You were the only princess of all kingdoms, always so endorsed to be proposed to as the best possible prospect of a wife. Only daughters of high lords, dukes, earls, and viscounts were eligible - but none compare to the Princess of Gaia. The kingdom of life offering prosperity like none other. 

Prince Johnny of course, was a fool so stubborn so strong so unwavering in all the force of his wrath, but Jaehyun knew that nothing could soften his friend quite like a beautiful woman. And that you were. Jaehyun knew it ever since you were both were very young.

Jaehyun pauses, and Johnny almost positively spits into his cup. 

“Princess, what do we owe the pleasure of your concern.” Johnny stops, the tall man losing composure.

“Prince Ten told me that they positively put aphrodisiacs in the ale, apparently it makes you temporarily… physically infatuated with the person you see right after you consume a glassful.” You explain. “I apologize for the interruption.” 

“See it was more of a warning, Johnny. I’m sure the princess has better cause for concern than two fools like us.” Jaehyun says, and your timid eyes carefully examine him. He feels a nervousness, but he does not make it obvious. 

You however, look shocked that Jaehyun was part of the conversation.

“My king,” she curtseys, “how disrespectful of me.”

“Please.” he feels a flush go straight to his ears— suddenly thankful that his hair was now long enough to cover them, not to give away his obvious feelings. You had called him your king. “Please skip the formalities, Princess.” 

Johnny rolls his eyes, too shallow to notice Jaehyun’s flustered state but oh so heavily offended. “Why is it that when I called you king, you demanded be called Overlord at my expense? If it weren’t our beautiful Princess Gaia, anyone would be met by your awful disposition—“ Johnny clutches a hand to his chest, feigning hurt.

“Yes, the awful disposition of my friendship, Johnny. Do not take offense.” Jaehyun cuts him off. “If anyone deserves respect in this room it is the Princess Gaia.” Jaehyun respectfully points and you stand there, now equally as flustered as he. “Princess, I believe a congratulations is due.” 

“Whatever for?” You wonder.

“A lady’s eighteenth year is quite important in this society I suppose, and an even bigger deal in the shoes you have to fill. I’m congratulating you for all of the things you have accomplished, and the things I know you will.” It’s a reassurance, one he knew you needed. It surely wasn’t easy being the only princess in the entire land of Celeste.

“I do not know what to say. It is an honor to hear such praise, your highness.” You almost complete another curtsey, stopping yourself halfway because you know he’d try to correct you. Suddenly you laugh to yourself and it’s a pleasant sound for Jaehyun to hear.

“It is a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance after all of these years.” He says, and there is a sudden realization that drawls. You’d seen each other as children, though he was five years older than you, but never had you spoken more than a few words of greeting.

“And it has been a pleasure for me to this rather gawky conversation.” Johnny says, obviously entertained. Johnny does not need to say that he understands what is blossoming.

The night goes by, Jaehyun typically brooding from corner to corner - allowing passive conversation. He cannot help but quietly set his gaze toward you the entire night, noticing the hawks that surround you. Everyone taking turns tempting you into conversation, or trying to impress you in the most loutish ways.

Taeyong appears next to him at some point, catching the king stare at you and how you gracefully turn each man down. Jaehyun’s brows furrowing at the sight of you welcoming Muhan’s company.

“Don’t deceive yourself with jealousy, your highness.” Taeyong says.

“You must dissuade yourself from believing I am, dear friend.” Jaehyun coughs, surprised he was caught. “I’ve only ever spoken to her during this night.” 

“Something tells me you’ll speak to her again.”

fourteen days hence, four years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Tyr:

Jousts were nothing of a kind sport. Princes, Knights, and Noblemen alike all had even the tiniest pinch of fear when the Kingdom Tyr would host the sport. Of course, the Prince Johnny always elated to participate in his own kingdom’s form of entertainment.

There was already commotion in the field, everything set in place except for the crowd forming outside to get in. Each horse already in their own stables, splinters painted in each participating kingdom’s colors, and all participating riders mingling in the common tent.

One such topic of conversation is on every one of the participants’ lips, one that quietly catches the attention of one such that is the King of Sol. 

“It’s really no question, of course the Princess Gaia will dedicate her kiss to Prince Muhan.”

“Not even her own knights are participating in the joust— is that allowed Prince Johnny?” Prince Doyoung of the Kingdom Jove had asked, turning to get Prince Johnny’s attention.

“Of course it’s allowed, participation is completely voluntary.” Johnny says, and it’s met by a lot of contrary sighs.

“You did almost threaten our lives to participate when you sent our invitations, you know.” Mark says.

“Well, Kingdom Gaia is lucky we exercise favoritism here in Tyr. If it weren’t the only kingdom not harboring a Prince then I would’ve, very softly required a jouster.” 

“Softly.” Mark rolls his eyes.

“Oh Prince Mark we have to get back to a much pressing matter— the Princess Gaia’s kiss!” Prince Ten, although not participating in the joust, has made it a mission to socialize but prod gossip. Though it was simply a kiss on the cheek that was at stake, as a kiss on the lips would certainly tarnish the Princess’ virtue, it meant a lot to all these Princes.

As you have now come of age, some traditions have lightly changed. 

“You aren’t even in the—“ Mark interjects but stops himself by throwing his hands up in the air.

“Yes, her kiss will obviously be dedicated to Prince Muhan.” Prince Doyoung is so keen to continue this conversation, as Prince Muhan is not at an earshot to overhear this conversation. His own group of knights from Okeanos busy in their own bubble.

“Why is that, my ever so just friend?” Ten asks, curious to know if any of Doyoungs special abilities to give justice are of any use to him.

“Princess Gaia never does anything without good and proper reason, and considering the lineup of participants… She would not be keen to dedicate it to the princes she is not close with, which eliminates a handful of us already. She would not be interested to dedicate her kiss of victory to anyone that is not a firstborn Prince, leaving anyone below without a chance. And of course, we have to consider which of these participants have a likely chance to make it to the final round.” His mind wanders.

“So that leaves us with?” Jaehyun asks, not able to hold his curiosity out any longer. Though he was willing to really keep quiet and only listen, something inside him was rather impatient.

“Leaves us with Prince Johnny, Prince Mark, Prince Taeyong, and of course Prince Muhan because they have been linked together since infancy…” Doyoung says, but he looks at Jaehyun that he didn’t realize was part of the conversation and it seems that an idea has hatched, “I suppose you too, King Jaehyun. I would guess that you’re more than decorated to be participating in the joust, though I am not so sure about your closeness, but a king— Prince Johnny!” Doyoung’s curiosity gets the best of him once more. 

“What now?” Johnny sighs, he should’ve known that Doyoung’s thirst for justice meant that he’d be answering more than several questions about the rules.

“Is King Jaehyun allowed to joust? He was recently a prince, he did regularly participate, and I suppose he’s been the most fortunate to win the most jousts of all of us… But he has now since been crowned a King. Should there not be a special box for him to sit instead?” Doyoung looks at Jaehyun and he begins to whisper. “Sorry, old friend, I do not mean to question your capabilities. But I do not believe we have seen a king on the actual field before.”

“The King of Sol is allowed to joust if he decides that he wants to.” Johnny confirms, and shrugs. The rules in the games of Tyr were obviously dependent on the mood of the prince. “And the victory kiss that Princess Y/N will also be of her own choice.” 

~

The first rounds of the joust go by easily. Unfortunately for some of the participating kingdoms, the odds seem to have stayed the same; all remaining participants from the same anticipated kingdoms. Doyoung's predictions correct as always.

“How many splinters have you positively destroyed, dear friend?” Johnny asks with a smile on his face, getting off from the ground after falling from his horse. Jaehyun defeating him during this round.

“Far too many now.” Jaehyun smiles as well, still on his own horse.

“Well, I offer my congratulations. You won this round fair enough. It leaves you and Prince Muhan during the final round.” Johnny shakes his friend’s hand as he walks off gracefully even though he had been covered by the mud and the dust. 

Jaehyun cannot say aloud that he had ulterior interests about winning. One could say he was willing to be so motivated as to make it to the final round of the joust to test out a theory— or defy an expectation. 

The kiss the most noble lady dedicates is one she gives before the final round, a matter of making her best bet to all kingdoms known. It was a tradition of sorts, typically noble ladies would choose the jouster that they fancied or one that was more strategic for their own kingdom. Jaehyun had been kissed on the cheek by many noble ladies - making it to the final round of the joust many times. Though, none of those dedications meant anything more than a flattery for he never entertained their interest.

This would be the first time you would be dedicating a kiss, coming of age and not having been wed yet. 

He is completely aware that if he were to go up against Prince Muhan, who definitely has the most expectations of any soul in this tournament to make it through the final round to save your kiss for his own, then he was clearly not the obvious choice. And it was simply just a kiss on the cheek, it was just a sign of good luck. Besides, he only ever spoke to you during the ball of Ashtaroth not many moons ago. What did he have now that was different from before? Doyoung only confirming his doubts when he had pointed out how barely close you were.

Jaehyun now thought, that maybe if you were to kiss Muhan, his bruised ego would make it even more satisfying to strike the Prince with his splinter and defeat him after. 

But now he would simply have to see.

“Champions,” The King of Tyr says from his box in the stands, “Prince Muhan of Okeanos, and King Jaehyun of Sol,” the old man nods to Jaehyun, a courtesy, “though it may not truly affect your joust, it is of tradition that we allow our fairest maiden the blessing of the kiss of victory of her champion of choice. To bless her chosen champion.” In this case, to seal your engagement to Muhan through this declaration of your own volition. This public display of affection revealing more than just an action at the surface.

You come forward from your own box, dressed in the deep greens of your kingdom, your black raven hair loosely put down in curls with some braids holding them in place. If it were a crime to stare, to place one’s eyes upon the figure of another - to create wanting, longing simply by looking— Jaehyun would have positively been a criminal. For no such moment did he realize how much he wanted that kiss. 

“Princess Y/N of Gaia, please choose your champion.”

Jaehyun does not expect it. He knows he will be greeted by the slow-moving wind, and even all the people in the crowd expect you to make your way to the man on Jaehyun’s left. Prince Muhan’s foot was lightly tapping in anticipation as well as you are escorted down from your box, it seems the prince is impatient for you to make your way toward him.

The wind does not come to Jaehyun, instead it is a warm scent of jasmine and sandalwood. You made your way straight to Jaehyun, with no hesitation or a moment’s pause. 

“King Jaehyun.” You greet him, lightly bowing much to his own dismay, but he is aware that there are plenty eyes watching. Disbelief across the faces of the knights and princes previously taken out of the joust for losing in earlier rounds.

“Princess, I think you’re making the wrong choice.” He says honestly, but he is nervous. His mind goes back to the conversations about this kiss in the tent, what did Doyoung say again? You do not do things without good and proper reason.

“I think I’m making a perfectly good choice, my king.” You say, and there it is again when you call him that, it gets him.

Jaehyun knows his body has stiffened, unsure how he must perform now that he knows that not just everybody is looking— but everyone is now looking with shock or some degree of contempt. 

You speak again, this time clearing your throat and placing a dainty hand on his shoulder. How he wishes his armor were not in the way. 

“I shall kiss you now.” Your whisper is soft and it grazes his ears, he can feel the hairs on his cheek rise.

“There is still time to change your mind, Princess—“ He says, but it is too late. Your lips are placed so softly on the skin of his face, it feels he is unable to move. Unable to think in this searing heat that rises up at his cheeks, the familiar feeling of redness to his ears.

While the crowd roars, signaling the end of the tradition, you seem to quickly whisper something else. “If you wish to speak to me, my king, I will wait in the kingdom’s gardens after the feast. Best of luck.” Before he can tell you that it would be a risk to see each other in secret, you’ve gone back to your box. 

~

You were on borrowed time.

It was sudden, the secrecy of your coming of age ceremony all parallel to the curse that had plagued you: Gaia had long since had a line of only sons, marrying daughters from other kingdoms, creating more sons— more princes, more kings, more princes.

But you were born, a princess no doubt. Your father was truly your own - a King of Gaia, but your mother a lowly born woman your father had met during a long journey to the far lands. No one had questioned her heritage, for her kindness was unmatched and her beauty had been unthinkable. 

It seemed you had not thought to blame your own heritage, but on the eve of your coming of age you had coughed up pools of your own blood. A mix of dark and strange sludges following, flowing out of your body in long painful stages.

The oracle that had been sent to assess you had told you that you were on borrowed time, something about your family’s secrets. Ones you had no answer to, already buried with your mother who could not answer for these untraceable roots. 

Of course you had asked for a different solution, one that was answered in riddles.

Away from where the sun sets, your hands tied to another, where your heart lies the sun rises - for the kiss of death shall only be freed by the wrath of his longing. Answers you must only find by the slumber of the moon, but only through the sacrifice of the water.

Though you had sent all scribes, all possible scholars from Jove upon your secret request to the younger Prince Chenle’s agreement, even all elders from your own court - no one could understand what this meant. You did understand to some degree, but you wanted your suspicions to be proven wrong. You did not want your conjectures to be true.

Your hands tied to another. You knew it meant the budding promise of your union to the Prince of Okeanos, a promise long made only because of the close friendships your fathers had. Only because you were of the same age, and were always made to see each other when time had permitted. 

Muhan was pleasant, he was simple, he did not expect much but had always expressed his desire for a quiet and subservient wife— he could not be so picky as to choose. He held conversation well, or maybe just until necessary. He had the manners expected of a prince, he was not fussy nor was he expressive. There was nothing truly so wrong or right about Muhan, but you never made sense of picturing ruling his kingdom alongside him. No imaginings or desires of fulfilling what he deemed ‘duties of a woman.’ Muhan was a good friend, sure. But he was never anything more than someone so closely placed beside you.

But it was the sun. The sun. The sun. The sun. In your mind you knew the radiant face, always so adored. You had already pictured Jaehyun when the sun had been mentioned, every inkling in your body knew. In your mind there were clear imaginings of his dark thick hair, the imprints of dimples on his cheeks on the rare occasion you caught him smiling, his often misplaced look of surprise. 

He had always grown up to be so… perfect. You remember tiptoeing clumsily around him, always so ashamed to be younger, feeling a blush to your cheek every time you caught a glance - but  he was always so perfect to look your way. 

The riddle had made only a few inklings of sense, and you had considered that maybe death would be easier than confronting a lifetime-long blooming in your chest for somebody who has never expressed much interest in you.

Your father had prayed countless nights to the Gods, hoping you would change your mind about choosing death. For the certainty of your death was not one that was clear; it could come to you at any time. Through pleading, you convinced him to allow you to live normally through the social season. Once it was over, you promised to quietly carry out your days in the Kingdom Luna, where you know that only the holy embrace of the moon would bring solace as your death would approach. 

It was an excuse to savor the last of times you would see the newly crowned King Jaehyun. You anticipated the hurt of knowing he would lead a life where you were a distant stranger, one princess that would disappear into silence. You would never witness to see him grow into a glorious king, though you would know he would be a husband to another - find happiness and satisfaction in those dutiful actions.

You only planned to watch from afar, pretend that nothing changed except that you had come of age.

If not for the warning Prince Ten had given you about the ale in the ball held in Ashtaroth, you did not notice Jaehyun speaking to Prince Johnny in that moment— all you had your focus on was how rowdy Johnny typically got when intoxicated, and a love potion no doubt would be an even larger mess of things.

It’s only when you hear him speak that you realize it is the first words of serious conversation you had been in, and when he spoke about your coming of age and all the good things he expected you to accomplish - you felt an attentiveness you’d never seen in him before. 

You decide to brush it off, coming home to your kingdom that night bleeding out of your nose. The same black substance flowing afterward.

Then there was the matter of the joust, an invitation sent by the Kingdom Tyr to ask for your unwavering support to deliver the kiss of victory as the fairest maiden in the land of Celeste. You could not turn it down. 

The dreaded matter of the kiss would simply be about Muhan’s pride, and the fortitude of managing the expectations of a promise that everyone in the land knew. The kiss was not just about good luck, it was a sign of meaning. It was the only time in the world where a woman could express her desires without being chastised. That you knew. 

You braced yourself for the worst possible outcome, knowing that the final two to make it to the final round of the joust were factors that you could not control. It was a sheer game of strength, where the use of each of the kingdom’s powers was absolutely forbidden. In your own thoughts you carefully deliberated, perhaps if it were Prince Johnny and another prince that was not Muhan to succeed - the kiss would bear no real meaning. Simply a kiss to favor another. 

It was with Hendery that you confided a silly thought, your most trusted knight already knew of your little crush upon the King of Sol. 

“If he will make it through to the final round no matter his opponent, I will choose to kiss him. Loud and clear.” You told him, your knight only smiling in agreement. Hendery knew of your condition, and always encouraged those choices that made you visibly happier.

And the odds were in your court, after countless rounds of painful watching. The sound of splinters crushing into metal and the neighing of horses making your heart race, the fear of injury still lightly bothering you. Round after round that Jaehyun had been present, you saw his unwavering strength. Once he was put up against Johnny and he had swiftly made Johnny fall off his horse - you knew it was finished.

Despite Muhan standing there, and everybody else expectedly waiting for you to kiss him - you walk toward Jaehyun without hesitation.

His helmet removed, revealing his sweaty hair lightly pressed down - the rising of his chest from the adrenaline running through him - the dirt making its way to lightly stain the parts of his cheeks exposed by the opening in his helmet. His armor obviously worn out from the strenuous activity. Jaehyun was positively rugged, but enough so beautifully a man.

He tells you that you aren’t making the correct choice. His words and his body language both tell you he is pleading, but the stammer in his speech tells you otherwise. He tells you again that there is time to change your mind but you do not listen, you could feel the same heat of the sun from his close chest. 

Then you remember how kindly he regarded you in Ashtaroth, how you knew there was an undertone that pleaded for you to speak longer. Heavens forbid that all of this thinking were a product of a mere selfishness in your delusion— but you knew in the growing heat inside you that this was more than that. 

You kissed his cheek, sealing the coffin of the façade you had worked hard to preserve. 

It takes all the courage left in you to tell him to meet you in the gardens of Tyr.

that very same evening, four years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Tyr:

“These gardens are surprisingly beautiful aren't they?.” Jaehyun says, distracting you from your mindless staring at the tall hedges that surrounded you. There was a marble bench near the tall shaped hedge, facing a slow moving fountain the middle. You were seated there, just observing the still serene quiet nestled in a rough bustling kingdom like Tyr. It took him some time to get away from the celebration; it was difficult for the winner of the joust to simply disappear from everyone's incessant begging to drink one pint of ale to celebrate his victory.

“I don’t recall these gardens ever being here.” You agree, and he notices that you do not meet his gaze.

“That’s because the gardens are new, my lady.” Jaehyun sits next to you as if it was the most natural thing on earth. “Johnny is promised to a daughter of a Duke in Ashtaroth. When he knew his bride would come from the kingdom of beauty he rushed at the opportunity to build her something beautiful. That way when they will wed, she won’t feel so far away from home.” He tells you and your face brightens at the story.

“I did not take Prince Johnny as a romantic.” You almost laugh.

“Neither did I,” he laughs, “but he coerced all of us to aid him in his time of need.” He remembers setting up quite a few large stones in the garden, making practical suggestions about sunlight and how important it was to the plants. This he had told you too in animated storytelling. 

You listen, and the laughter comes naturally. As if this weren’t the first time you had shared stories together. It’s only when there’s nothing more to say of other people that your smiles settle into awkward stares.

Jaehyun speaks once more, clears his throat, “why did you wait for me here?” He swears he sees you freeze in that moment, but the stiffness in your shoulders dissipate as they sink into a more comfortable posture. 

“I assumed…” You begin. “No, I felt that you had more to say to me earlier. But we both know it couldn’t have been possible with all those prying eyes.” He knows you’re correct. 

“If the prying eyes mattered, why did you choose to kiss me instead of the prince you were promised to?” It’s another question, it leaves his throat as soon as he thought of it. Not afraid that it could imply that he felt strongly against your relationship with Muhan.

“I am not promised to Prince Muhan, if that satisfies your curiosity.” You say so lightly, and he hopes you cannot tell that he’s only a little annoyed that it seems you do not take the question seriously. 

“It does more than satisfy my curiosity.” He’s overflowing with sudden joy is what he wants to say. He inches closer to you, he is determined to know what he wants to. “Why did you choose to kiss me, Princess?” It’s almost a whisper, and he sees that goosebumps form along the expanse of the parts of your arms exposed by your garments. He sees the hairs on your neck stand. 

“Would you have wanted me to kiss him instead?” It frustrates him that you could even suggest that in this moment, faces close to each other and he can feel your hot breath as you whisper to him as well. You are mirroring each other. 

“Of course not.” He’s honest. “But if it weren’t Muhan, if I were up against any other Prince, would you still have chosen me?”

You know what his question is leading to, and you also know that he understands the implications of your kiss. It wasn’t just an expression of defiance— going against everything that has been laid down and built for you and Muhan, but it was a declaration of desire.

So there it was, he was asking you if you were now choosing him. Just him. 

“Yes.” You swallow dryly, and you can almost feel each other’s breathing. Jaehyun’s bare hands touch you, his thumb just barely grazing your chin. 

So, so close now.

But it is Hendery’s calling that cuts the moment short. 

“Princess, we have to go now.” He politely bows to recognize the King of Sol, and you almost immediately follow.

“I will write to you, just remember to let the sunlight in when the rays of light are at their peak.” Jaehyun tells you, as you walk off.

“Ask Prince Ten for the flower of life, I will get back to you.” You call off, hearing the sound of your carriage.

two days hence, four years before the Age of Sol, in the Kingdom Gaia:

Word across all the kingdoms travel far and wide and as quickly as the wind blows in the winds of the north during the winter, only when it is trivial of course. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you to know that your little kiss on the cheek had already reached Gaia before your own horses could gallop out of Tyr, for all manners of communication were excessively being used to tell all the world of the unexpected choice you made. There were flying questions about your relationship, wondering if at any point you had indicated an interest or shown more than a curt nod and stare over any of the social seasons.

You already anticipated the conversation you would have with your father and the other advisors of Gaia - maybe how disgraceful it was to publicly turn down Prince Muhan, and maybe you should act upon painful consideration of the kingdom’s best image and interest. Except you’re sure that they will leave you plenty mercies, maybe your curse had its advantages. 

It surprises you, that instead of a lengthy reprehension, you receive more concern than disappointment. 

“I do not want to question your happiness, child. I cannot take that away from you.” Your father says, and you’re sure that he does not mind for the implications of the action. “I can only fear that he is not worthy of you.”

“Oh but you were very rightfully so vigilant to decide that Prince Muhan was worthy of me instead? Just because of the friendship you had with his father?” You say with a little hint of bitterness.

“That is not what I mean,” he says, “you and the prince were simply an idea. But the King of Sol remains to be different, have we any ties to Sol to know the kind of character he is?” 

“Why does his character matter?”

“That is because he is a king. I have very little to scare him off now that he holds power over his own dominion. You could have made it easier for me if he were still a prince, but he is now a king… and the youngest one at that.” Your father is stressed. “He is quite unorthodox for a ruler of a kingdom as well, and if he reciprocates this longing for you, then he must be exceptional.” 

“That is not necessary, my time is not for long.”

“But that is precisely why he must be.” 

“Allow him to prove himself.” He dismisses you. “No more talk about how much you find him to be fit for your liking, he does not need you to defend him should he be as great as you describe.”

~

It was almost noon when you opened the windows to your bedroom, you understood that much when Jaehyun had instructed you to let the sunlight in. 

You weren’t sure how this would work. Although you did know that every kingdom had their own otherworldly manner of communicating and using their respective powers for their own convenience, you’d never corresponded with anyone from Sol before.

Some doubts creep into your mind, what if he hasn’t written you anything at all? Maybe the heat of the moment was lost and he simply was no longer interested. Perhaps your father was right to be doubtful. As the minutes draw closer to noon it seems you have been waiting for much longer than only the few passing seconds. 

He’s true to his word, it seems from where a clear ray of sun had entered - an envelope had materialized from the bright light. You

approach it to see that the wax seal of his kingdom was stamped on the front, your name written in the back.

The red wax is not that difficult to pry open, and you are not sure if it’s your excitement that makes it so. 

 ‘Princess, I hope this reaches you. I am not entirely sure when I will see you again; perhaps you may not be fond of the far retreats that the Kingdom Hermes hosts. Much to Mark’s behest, I have not seen you often during those excursions. I’ve come to understand that Gaia will not host for the season, your kingdom elusive to my observation. Maybe you can correct me if I am wrong. I have also come to preempt that your father may not take a liking to accepting an invitation from my own, should I request for your private audience.  Should I be thankful that your kiss has allowed me to earn the gift of your attention? Or should we feel a little regretful that it has caused much talks against the idea that we have formed an attachment?  Either way, I will be waiting for your response. Prince Ten gave me the flower as if he were expecting it. Very truly anticipating your correspondence,  Jaehyun.’

~ 

He’s been staring at the little plant for maybe a few hours now, passively going through the things he has to accomplish. Some complaints about the productivity of the kingdom, a few concerns about the armory, and some about having to work together with other kingdoms.

All those things he had dealt with almost immediately, his judgement not clouded at all. Though, it was obvious that he was distracted. Impatient.

He looks at the flower, in all its plenty petals, looking as though it had never once wilted nor changed since Ten had given it to him. The flower of life never requiring any water nor any attention since he acquired it.

It is strange that when a single petal falls, slowly shifting into an envelope, the wax seal of Gaia placed and his name also prettily written behind so as to mimic the same manner he had written to you. 

‘My king, or if this is Prince Ten please do not take it upon yourself to invade the privacy of my correspondence - I will have you whipped for it if I had the power. But if this is the King of Sol to whom I write to, I have received your correspondence. If chance permits, perhaps I will see you sooner than later. While it is true that Gaia has not hosted any events as usually expected, it does not seem to be out of the question for us to welcome guests.  As for my father, whether our circumstances were different or not, he often is peculiarly critical of the male sex. Especially when it relates to his only child, and daughter at that. Unfortunately he is hard to please, and very much skeptical. On the matter of the kiss, if you do not wish it had ever happened - then we should continue talking about it. If you do find satisfaction in it ever happening, then let us lay it to rest. Then maybe I can kiss you elsewhere than your cheek.  Yours, Y/N.’

He rereads the letter thrice over, wondering if he had missed any details - if he had things he needed to decipher. Yours. The kiss. Another kiss. 

His.

He was determined to make something of this attachment. 

end of part one.