kai *ੈ✩‧₊˚

word count: 2k

content: ex!sylus, minor angst, yearning, yummy breakfast with sylus

summary: you wake up one morning to find sylus cooking breakfast for you.

stirring awake, you realize you had accidentally left the blinds to your window open. you can feel the morning's sun bathing you in its glow. you lie in it for a few minutes, just until you hear something odd.

sitting up in somewhat of a daze, you take a second to make out what files into and out of your ears. it takes you a moment before it clicks.

faint soft drums, a leading saxophone, and an accompanying piano. music? you don't remember leaving any music on before you went to sleep last night.

you're fully awake at this point. a little alarmed, too.

you jump out of bed and hurriedly make your way to the living room. you're greeted by a slow but lively song. walking through the music, you peek into the kitchen and find yourself staring at the back of a very familiar figure.

"sylus?" you call out to him, your voice warped from a blend of surprise and confusion.

prince zayne never believed in soulmates. from the day he was born to his upbringing, the royal family drilled one thing into the crevices of his brain: marry another royalty and expand the power his family already grasps.

he spent more time burying his nose in books, sweating at the castle grounds with a sword in hand, and memorizing social graces and etiquette with prince caleb growing up. and through it all, he received more red marks and scrutiny from the governess of the household rather than any idea of what a soulmate actually was.

prince zayne never believed in soulmates, more so because he didn't have the liberty to think about the concept in the first place.

so when he found himself falling into an old, dried-up well in their garden during the full moon when he was eight years old, with the gardener and apothecary's daughter, the same age as him, following him suit in an attempt to rescue him, he couldn't quite understand the feeling broiling in his stomach.

the memory has been hazy for him, all static and fuzzy as he tried to recall the distant past. he only remembers crying silently and examining the scrape on his knee helplessly, then the girl tumbling down next to him with a chipped tooth and a grin plastered on her face.

the next thing, he was no longer crying and was instead sitting closely with the girl, reading the encyclopedia that had engrossed him before he had tripped down the well.

he could faintly remember the smell of the girl, recalling it was a mix of jasmine and mint, mostly because of the number of jasmines blooming beside them.

he remembers the sparse clouds that littered the sky, the moon giving them a little light for their reading.

zayne ignores the clumsy fluttering of his stomach as he gently protests with the girl's knowledge. the girl would prove to be as unyielding, frowning when he would argue, and she would talk back like he wasn't royalty.

which was a first for him.

adults feared questioning him even about the most mundane and silly things. he could say that the sky is gray during a sunny day, and the grown-ups would just nod gently and agree.

so meeting someone as similar to him, whose interest was in understanding the complexities of the world, he was baffled.

soon, that silly fluttering in his stomach would soon rise to his chest, and he just couldn't seem to understand where the feeling was coming from.

much more when he suddenly heard a voice in his head that he was certain wasn't his.

the prince might be blindingly stubborn but i suppose he wouldn't be awfully lonely anymore if i joined him in his leisure...

the two of them whip their heads quickly towards each other that they ended up bumping their foreheads against one another, eliciting loud whines from both children. but before they can even argue and demand the other to apologize, he remembers the swarm of servants surrounding the opening of the well, frantic and panic-stricken.

since then, the memory has sat at the back of his mind whenever he was demanded to sit at important (his father's words, not his) meetings with various royalty about marriage. he would mindlessly trace the intricate patterns of the goblet at hand, not bothering to listen to whatever the older men had to say, his imagination floating him back to the old, dried-up well in their garden.

sure, prince zayne didn't mind playing the role of the linkon kingdom's prince and providing his presence to whatever the royal counselor told him to. but he draws the line at putting up a nauseating facade in the name of his father's overwhelming greed for power.

prince zayne and prince caleb didn't inherit the king's insatiable lust for the throne, oftentimes seeking each other for refuge whenever their father became unreasonable.

and yet right now, he couldn't find caleb anywhere.

as a matter of fact, zayne couldn't see anything past two meters within his radius, without his stupid eyeglasses. the family's modiste just had to strictly recommend that he take off his glasses for the night, lest he ruin his saintly outfit during his engagement gala.

it was no secret that his eyesight is the worst. you could wave out to him on a busy street, and he would, unintentionally, zoom past you until he would catch a whiff of your perfume.

but for some strange reason, when he catches an unbelievably clear sight of your glassy eyes underneath the pale moonlight, and your fists balled to the sides of your gown, zayne finds his heart shattering into a million pieces.

"i wish to know why i was invited since i am only a commoner. was i invited because of your grace and recognition that i am up to par with your prowess? or was i merely invited so you can rub salt to my wound that in this universe i could never be with my soulmate?" you demand.

with the thousand ways that zayne abided by the royal standards, it was safe to say that he was used to the vexations and pleasantries (or the lack thereof) of the royal family.

and as a royalty, he has learned that the world has always been cruel to those who yearn and with undying devotion in their hearts.

he barely picked up the rustling of the wisterias or the cicadas singing in the background. zayne could only listen to the wild thumping of his heart against his chest as he watched you compose yourself.

zayne thinks of multiple routes across the scenario unfolding in front of him. he could take your hand and apologize. he could tell the truth and ask you to elope. he could ask to remain a platonic relationship just to keep you at arm's length.

alas, he was still a prince.

"my apologies, my lady," zayne begins. "you must have mistaken my intentions."

and as the prince of the linkon kingdom, he must always put the royalty's interests first before his.

he watches you swallow thickly, nodding, "indeed," you croak, "i must have."

you stiffly curtsy to zayne one last time and with a shaky breath, you say, "i shall not take much of your time any further. thank you for the dance."

then, with restrained movements, he watches you turn your heel slowly.

the clouds disperse from the sky, revealing the full moon glistening in all its glory.

i will never have zayne, this i already know. i shall not wallow in my sadness around with something already delusional.

please, i ask you to stay. do not take any further steps. allow me to fiight for us.

you feel the airway in your throat constricting as you take a quarter step away from the prince with the full moon orbiting mockingly in the sky. hiding the sniffles from your repressed tears through the click-clack! of your heels against the polished marbled floors, echoing against the space. but before you can take another step further from your supposed soulmate, you feel a tight clasp around your wrist and the warmth of a body on your back.

you freeze.

"my dearest miss," zayne speaks so softly.

you dare not turn around.

"before we bid farewell, i am compelled to show you something," he continues.

you almost scoff at his words, realizing that he couldn't even apologize for his cold display of demeanor towards his soulmate earlier. but before you could even make a disgruntled sound, prince zayne was already tugging at your wrist and essentially dragging you through the hedge maze-esque of the castle's garden.

you know you have a choice.

to pull your hand away.

or to stop dead in your tracks.

or to demand answers from him.

instead, you let him.

you let him pull you away from the twisted reality of his noble life and your humble dreams. you decide that if this would be the last night of having your soulmate to yourself, you would at least let yourself indulge while he is still yours—bound by fate but severed by reality.

then, zayne stops.

you follow suit.

feigning irritation, you huff, "shall this be the time to dilly-dally when the king and his wife must be looking for you?"

he ignores your words, which only makes your annoyance come to life. with a scowl on your face, you take a step forward, ready to give him an earful, "hey—"

the moon is mocking you.

you were certain.

you catch a glimpse of its glimmering light, turning your head in that direction, you see it.

oh.

oh.

being the daughter of a humble gardener and apothecary, you were used to visiting houses of the townsfolk while one of your parents would do the task they were assigned to do.

but there were instances where your parents would visit the nobility together, bringing you along to their work.

and there was this faint instance that you recall being stuck in a well with a snobbish brat of your age, with the intent of rescuing him.

the memory never consumed your waking days, you couldn't even make out the events that transpired during that fateful evening.

until the sight of the well seemed to unlock a plethora of pictures in your head.

you stand there, frozen, with zayne's rugged palms still encircling your wrist.

your lips part but you could barely make a sound.

"i frequent this part of the castle when i feel rather lonesome. it was sort of a safe haven for me," he continues. "not even the king himself dare step into this space. you could say it's the only piece of land in this kingdom that has my name written on it," he dryly jokes.

you remain silent, watching the fireflies flickering beneath the tall grass and the various insects crawling on top of the growing vines covering the well.

zayne clears his throat awkwardly, "i only jest, of course. however, it is the truth when i said that this has become a space for prince zayne himself only."

you blink, forcibly pulling yourself out of the trance, "why?" you murmur.

"hm?"

you turn to him, "why?"

zayne cocks his head to the side in a pensive act, "why, you ask..."

it takes zayne exactly eight seconds to respond, "perhaps it's because when i am within this vicinity, i long for the moment when i tumbled down this well to be repeated again."

usually, you would shriek with laughter at him, pointing at him in an attempt to embarrass him further. you would try to voice out in between laughter how "the prince fell down the well foolishly," and how "the star pupil of The Academy ended up actually hitting himself in the head as a child."

but this time, you could only stay silent.

"i suppose you remember, then?" he mutters.

you swallow thickly, unsure how to answer him.

before your mind could even register a single word in your head, he gently pulls you to face him, and underneath the glow of the moonlight, you witness your supposed rival and undeniably your soulmate speaking to you through the mere glint in his eyes.

zayne looks at you with utter devotion and longing, with his lips wobbling in anticipation and his breath shaky, brows knitted together helplessly.

he traces his thumb against your skin, sacred and revered.

"i despise that i ended up this way," he whispers, pulling you closer until you are inches apart. "a royalty with no autonomy. an absolute fool of a status. even a nobleman would have more agency in his life than i do."

you press your palms against his chest flatly, "prince zayne, we cannot—"

"how dare this cruel universe subject me to profound sorrow by making me experience you?" he cuts you off shakily, "the heavens sing and the moon itself shines when i am with you. so tell me, is it such great sin for me to want to be with you?"

"the odds are against our favor—"

"it is blasphemous that i cannot love you!"

the axis of your world tilts.

"for me to say that you do not occupy my thoughts would be absurd..." zayne exhales shakily, "and i have spent all of my waking days trying to escape this madness."

he shakes his head, his touch delicate as if you could step away and he would let you.

"so please... i beg of you," zayne murmurs, gazing into you as if reading your entire soul, "what does it take for a lowly prince like me to sit beside your throne?"

the utter wreckage of his voice and his holy touch earns a tight clench of your chest, tears silently slipping out from the corners of your eyes. you no longer what day it is, or how long have passed since you two tiptoed away from the spotlight of the gala. you no longer remember the scrutinizing glares of the aristocrats, neither the dreams of becoming renowned in the medical field of linkon kingdom.

all your mind could scream at this exact moment was prince zayne in the palm of your hands.

and maybe, you could let yourself indulge just for once.

you beg the universe, just this once.

please.

give this to me.

"your majesty, i must—"

"zayne!"

the both of you whip your heads so hard to the direction of the voice bellowing that you almost bump each other clumsily again. you see at the other side of the garden the younger prince, caleb, sweaty and hair tousled as if he ran his fingers a million times through it in frustration.

"what are you doing, running off here at this ungodly hour?! the family is looking for you!" caleb yells, prompting zayne to pull away from you.

"looking for me?" zayne scoffs. "the world must be in flames for father to look for me for once."

caleb stomps over to him, "unfortunately, this is your engagement gala."

you were sure the moon was mocking you.

with the way the clouds begin to hover the satellite, casting shadows over the entire expanse of the garden, you were certain it was laughing at your expense.

and you certainly could laugh at yourself right now too.

there may be a string tied between you and zayne, but the universe feeds off of your agony.

and you remember, zayne is still a prince—one who abides more with societal norms and expectations rather than someone who is your soulmate.

a/n: ... first time posting in a while. kinda nervous . . . im so sorry it took this long to be released >< another part will be up before the entire fic release :) comments are very much appreciated !!

prince!zayne series