bymilk™

well, wicked is too much of a stretch, far too far-fetched. you'd admit, as a mage with a bounty on your head, the extensive catalogue of objects bewilders you to no end. lined in shelves, a jarring variety of dried, pickled carcasses and gnarly limbs submerged in liquid placed in tightly sealed jars glows with a grotesque hue of green. then, roosts dotting the lofty ceiling where birds with garish feathers and airborne animals alike rest. on the sun-bleached, bricked wall adjacent to the cluttered counter, crystal blades are mounted with metal inscribed with something you'd assume are textbook spells. maneuvering farther into the trove of jewelry; a pair of earrings hewn from shrapnel, spectacles from emerald and smoky quartz, a sapphire ring, an amber tiara depicting a basilisk. jeonghan would go on about how these belittled "good-for-nothing" artifacts wield magic that transcends technology.

amidst the seven-year long string of onslaughts imposed by the apocryphal legitimacy of the current successor to the ill-fated kingdom, jeonghan's spellbound menagerie stands far from the cordons' leer, offering an unusual sense of refuge. strangely enough, in a world where magic is regarded as bane to manmade technology, the menagerie remains snuggled in the kingdom's border in all its unassuming glory. had it not been for the building's juxtaposing (in the most relieving way imaginable) barren exterior, it would've been eradicated.

there is something so profoundly unhinged about jeonghan's love for contraptions in pursuit of a society where magic and technology coexist. for example, he used an opalized marine cephalopod that he somehow dug out after an ill attempt at extracting a kraken's blood as the carapace of his own set of cartridges. this opalized cephalopod is worth twenty-three gold coins for one! he'd flaunt his excavation.

what's so special about this invention of his? you'd ask. he answered as he twiddles and inspects his creation, saying that this would be advantageous for his own escapades. you jab at his remark, the lilt in your voice drifting dangerously close to concern. you knew he had been practicing to wield a gun. you then shift your gaze to the cartridge held between his bony fingers, admiring the pearly sheen it emits under the cantaloupe sun.

knowing jeonghan, you feel a pinch of rue when those words toppled down his lips.

those around him knows—knew he was a wizardry whiz. infliction spells, combat magic, space manipulation; he was a wicked young man and a wicked wizard at that.

as formidably regarded he is, only a few knew of his cowardice and penchant for vanity. brushing his overwrought trait aside, had it not been for the self-imposed parasitic curse that has been gradually draining him and his magic, he wouldn't be stupefied into the menagerie's drudgery.

on one particular day, he nudged you to try his first bottle of potion. with your senses heightened, you charily ask what ingredients he stirred in. rose-petal-speckled water, molten rose quartz, a pinch of fairy dust, and a wisp of his own hair. knowing your prowess in potion-making, he also jots down the exact measurements to assure that he's not trying to poison you even though he can do exactly that at any given moment. then in your periphery, you catch a plume of rose-colored smoke from the bottom of his cauldron.

yeah, this might be your last supper.

after glugging it down in one sharp breath, you notice that it tastes like peach-flavored liqueur. then the fragrant scent of roses prickle your tongue. with those gentle eyes glinting with something far more amusing than just expectation, jeonghan coaxes an answer from you.

you taste the remnants of fairydust with a smack of your lips.

"it's sweet, a little peachy, rosy" you said promptly, swilling the now empty bottle.

the wizard whose shoulder is pressed against yours begins fiddling with his fingers. the emerald ring he wears on his index finger glistens with each facet twisting and turning along the silver band.

"do you feel anything? any increase in body temperature? do you feel faint?"

naturally, you panic a little.

you don't feel an itch, a change. "uh, am i supposed to... feel something?"

jeonghan sucks on his bottom lip with his teeth, dragging a hand along the curls on his nape. "technically, it is supposed to take effect within a minute after the subject drinks it."

you wince at his words, which implicitly but clearly states that the potion didn't work.

with a dejected sigh, he takes the empty bottle from your clutch.

you find yourself a little grateful that the potion didn't react, knowing that whatever honeyed hypothesis he writes down with his quill, it's sure bound to be a hell of an "experiment".

by nightfall, you're still certain that the potion flunked.

You notice his ogling and roll your eyes. "God, yes, I look unruly in the hottest way imaginable, and I'm in your bed and I'm your girlfriend of five years already. Thanks for noticing"

Mingyu pulls himself together, thankfully still sober enough to get his mind out of the gutter.

"Yeah, uh, take-out or we cook?"

You swivel your head back to the delivery app chiming on your phone, pretend to consider your decision, then eye the blinking clock with '11:23' glinting red.

"We were out the whole day, and it's eleven"

"So you're saying…?"

"I'm saying take-out is preferred," You pause. "the only option, in fact."

The bed creaks as he settles into it, crawling to his haven of warmth. Cold hands slither beneath the silk waistband of your shorts, eliciting a flit of squeaks and curses. Mingyu lugs himself up to ease on top you.

"Kim Mingyu, you are heavy" you groan.

Mingyu scours the line of options from nearby restaurants; rice cakes, fried chicken, stew, dumplings.

You hear him grumble as his lips purchases itself onto the expanse of skin beneath your ear, subtly suckling with his canines. You forestall whatever sin he's about to commit by tugging the tufts of his hair with your idle hand.

He grunts in repudiation, to which you feel a bubble of satisfaction threatening to burst.

"I can just cook f'you," Finally, he lifts his head, only to spare a precursory glance at the screen before burying his head back into your shoulder. "I cook just fine."

You snort, offhanded. "Right, but your girlfriend wants take-out right now."

"Well, my girlfriend should know that her lovely, charming, handsome boyfriend is a culinary savant and can cook her anything she wants"

You wait for a few seconds until he offers another tolerable response.

"Get the pizza."

You giggle and pinch his cheek until the skin flushes pink, cooing at his meek answer. "That's what I thought"

You punch a finger into the selected, nearest pizzeria and resume your scrolling across an array of pizza selections, some smeared in tomato, some battered with an ungodly amount of cheese, another dozen dotted with peppery meat.

"Get the pepperoni."

You press his share of choice.

"Or the mushroom, that one's good too… last time we got the pesto, though…"

You watch your boyfriend dwindle to a pool of his own grovelling.

"We'll get pepperoni"

"…Yeah, pepperoni. Classic's the best" He sighs in relief, seemingly grateful that you ripped him out from his twaddle of thoughts.

You run a last check on your order placement. You press the order button. The app redirects to the payment page.

"My card's on my wallet" He supplies.

You grin cheekily and rise from the bed, prying his body off you. Then you press a chaste kiss just shy of his lips. Sliding towards the side of the bed, you slide the drawer open and produce a wallet—his—to zip it open and pull out his card.

Mingyu holds his gaze on you not too far from where you slid off.

It's painfully noticeable.

Your skin prickles, admittedly.

"…While I pay... put a damn shirt on, then you can kiss me"

Mingyu lifts an eyebrow.

"Oh, you think I want to kiss you?"

You stall your answer. "Well, I'd assume you'd want to… judging from how you've been behaving"

He breathes a chuckle and glides towards where you're perched, letting his arms fall back to your waist.

"Mingyu."

"Yes, my love?"

"Put a shirt on."

He scowls.

"Why? You're gonna take it off anyway."

God, you wonder why you agreed on being his girlfriend.

Well, not that you're complaining.

You gingerly place his card back into his wallet and place your phone by the bedside table, though before you could turn to face him, his lips meet you halfway. Your hands hover at the nonexistent distance between you, hemming him in with your arms around his neck as his lips press gentle kisses against yours.

"I love you" he murmurs in-between kisses. You giggle shyly at the affection as he lays you down to the cushion of his pillow. "I love you, so, so, much"

He pecks your nose, earning a scrunch.

"Say it back."

A bulb in your brain tells you that you should taunt your boyfriend a little bit more.

"Yeah" you reply, noncommittally.

Much to your surprise, his lips pucker into a dangerously convincing pout.

"Oh, so you don't love me anymore? Just say it. I don't love you anymore, I don't love my boyfriend like how I used to for the past five years..."

He drags the term boyfriend pointedly with an annoyingly pinched tenor. Your face curls, sours in mock annoyance as he goes on with his histrionic rendition of a damsel in distress.

You knit his lips shut with a kiss. Then you pull back to see his bowled-over reaction.

"I love you, my dramatic, overly stubborn, painfully handsome boyfriend of five years. I love you more than anyone in this whole entire teeming-with-seven-billion-people world"

A dopey smile pleats his face as he leans forward to chase your lips to capture you into another round of kisses. So much for making a thirty year old cower.

Your phone chirps, alerting both of you that the pizza is on its way to your doorstep.

Both of you couldn't care less.

Not when he's kissing you so lovingly, making dogged attempts to tug at the buttons of your pyjamas. Not when you breathe out his name with that honeyed voice of yours, and definitely not when he slides his knee into the gorge of your thighs.

"Baby?"

You tilt your head to meet his eyes.

"Can you tell them that they can just leave the pizza at the doorstep?"