✧･ﾟ: * sarah ౨ৎ

minjeong turns her phone back to her and studies the photo closer. i can see her newly painted nails zooming in.

“i think i heard about johnny hosting a last minute thing… haechan didn’t tell you?” she doesn’t look at me, still focused on the picture, head tilted in confusion. 

i shrug, trying to act like not knowing of his whereabouts is a normal thing. it’s not, by the way.

“he knew i was hanging out with you, maybe that’s why.”

minjeong immediately scoffs, locking her phone and putting it away. “fuck off. you know he doesn’t give a shit that you’re with me. you’re his go to drinking buddy. he whines like a puppy when you take shots without him.” 

she laughs, but it’s half out of disgust. 

“well, it looks like he has a new one, so…” i intend for that to pass as a lighthearted joke, but there’s a snappiness that escapes my mouth. i wince and she looks at me with a softness in her eyes.

“oh babe…” she scoots closer to me on her rug, putting her arms out in an obnoxious gesture to comfort me.

“donnnn’tttt…,” i groan. “it was a joke. i’m not hurt. put those things away.” i slap at her hands and she pouts, arms still up, not backing down.

“haechan is so…” minjeong sighs, resting her head on my shoulder. 

“yeah. yeah, i know.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

haechan and i are eating breakfast at our designated corner booth in the cafe between our two apartments. i can see the hungover drowsiness on his face. purple eye bags to match the purple splotches growing on his neck.

he’s chewing on his pancakes when i decide to ask, “so how was your night?” i flick at one of the hickeys on his neck and he flinches.

“heyyy!” he says through a mouthful of food, cheeks puffed out. 

“what was i supposed to do?” i shrug, innocently. “it’s like this huge, ginormous, gigantic, red target that i just have to-“ i aim for my next flick and he grabs my wrist swiftly.

“okay, cool it.” he drops my hand and it plops into my lap. 

i snicker at his nippy attitude, pinching his cheek to instigate further. “pouty boy was at johnny’s last night?”

haechan turns to look at me, throwing a lazy smirk. “you stalking me?” he says, earning me a groan.

i unlock my phone to show him my new prized lockscreen, an overexposed picture of two very drunk men smiling goofily. “you two idiots sent me a selfie last night.”

he hisses, nose scrunched up in distaste at the ridiculous picture of him and johnny. “not my best angle.”

“not sure if you have any,” i tease and haechan gives me a lopsided grin. “so who’s the lucky girl?”

“wouldn’t you like to know?” he counters, going in for another bite of my bacon. i let him take it.

“yeah, that’s why i asked,” i say with as much nonchalance as i could muster. i take my bacon strip back from his hands, even though there’s already not much left of it.

feeling bad, he cuts pieces of his pancake and puts them on my plate. i smile giddily, reaching for the syrup.

“her name’s lulu.” i pause mid syrup pour, not expecting him to have remembered her name. i clear my throat, recollecting myself, and continued to drench my food. 

it’s not that haechan is this dumb boy who gets around a lot. he totally could be with the amount of attention he used to get in college. but he was always careful about how far he’d flirt with someone, which is impressive considering his naturally charming personality. most words that came out of his mouth sounded like a pick up line.

i could only recall one serious relationship from our college years, and that in itself only lasted three months. of course, i remember him dating, but that’s all it was- super casual attempts to form a lasting relationship that never really pulled through. he’d go on a couple dates every so often, but never bothered me with the details because the details never seemed to matter. it was actually kind of cold, how he had approached dating.

but now i have a name. he has a name.

“oh wow,” i respond. “is this lulu… the one?” i joke, but the question leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, even with all the sugar from his pancakes.

“god, i forgot i’m talking to you.” haechan winces.

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean!” i elbow him in the side.

“it means i’m talking to a delusional hopeless romantic.” and weirdly that puts me at ease, that must mean he’s not too serious about her right? but then again, why should i care? right?

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” i roll my eyes.

he just shakes his head, chuckling. “i’ll probably see her again this week.”

“oh?” i look at his side profile, watching him casually tap his phone screen to check for notifications. 

his lockscreen lights up and i’m reminded of our annual joint birthday party from earlier this year. it’s a picture of us with our shared cake, candles all lit, with our arms drunkenly wrapped tightly around the other. i remember our group of friends huddled around us, singing loudly and off tune. i’m looking at him as he’s looking at the camera and-

lulu texts.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“there are my girls!”

a very intoxicated johnny starts running towards minjeong and i, beer can sloshing around his hand and onto the dirt lot. following behind him are the rest of the group, matching his lack of sobriety.

“aww, you started without us,” minjeong pouts, taking the drink from him. johnny doesn’t fight it, smiling down at her.

“you guys got here so late, you missed the first couple sets!” jaehyun appears next to me, giving me a side hug and hovers there. he’s definitely buzzed already. he offers me a sip of his drink, which i gladly take.

“couldn’t get an uber, we were fighting for our lives. oh my god, it was so bad.” i groaned, throwing back the can so i can quickly get on their level.

“should’ve just left work early and met up with us,” johnny tsks.

“i just had one more work call! i didn’t know it’d go for that long,” minjeong explains, her slumped figure showing how exhausted she was. regardless, her last minute festival outfit looked amazing.

i scan the group and my brain notices the missing brunette.

“where’s haechan?” i look to jaehyun. he juts his head out aimlessly to the crowd of festival people.

“getting another drink,” he says, head bobbing to the surrounding sounds.

“he better have gotten me one,” i start, looking for him, expecting two drinks to be in his hands.

and there he is, jogging towards us, with a cup and… a girl.

i tense up and jaehyun takes it as a cue to relax into me further, heavy arm around my shoulders. i’m about to tell his drunk ass to get off, when he gives me a knowing look. confused, i let him lean on me.

“took you guys long enough,” haechan quips, and the girl remains standing slightly behind him.

“tell me about it,” minjeong rolls her eyes. then she looks at the girl and then back at haechan and then back at the girl. the rest of the group is quiet waiting for haechan to introduce her to minjeong and i, but his lips stay shut, completely unaware.

“hi, i’m minjeong,” she abruptly breaks the silence. her hand is extended and the girl takes hers out of haechan’s to shake it.

“lulu, so nice to meet you,” she smiles so sweetly i can tell she means it.

“i'm y/n,” i cut in, just waving at her, not really able to move any closer. there’s no glimpse of recognition on her face. she just gives me a “hi” and a smile like i’m just another girl a part of the friend group. no big deal.

jaehyun hums, “so should we go see the next stage?”

“let’s,” i say, desperate to get going and out of this weird air. jaehyun leads the way, and i follow suit, trying to limit my haechan interactions. something in my chest just tells me i don’t want to be speaking to him right now. 

unfortunately, he doesn’t know that so he’s catching up to me with lulu in tow.

“nice outfit, very 2024 of you,” haechan teases, flicking the seam of my reused skirt.

“kinda creepy that you remember i wore this to last year’s fest too…” i glare judgingly.

“you were complaining about how cold you were the entire time. how could i not?” he smirks. “ride was okay?”

“expensive, but okay,” i nodded, trying to act casual. “i’m sorry, lulu, right?”

said girl perks up from behind haechan and catches up to our pace. “yes, hi! sorry for crashing your guys’ plans. my friends bailed so… and then chanie asked and yeah!”

“oh chanie’s sweet like that,” i peer at haechan and his cheeks are pink at the sound of that nickname leaving my mouth. 

“how do you guys know each other?” i ask innocently. haechan throws me a knowing look and lets lulu talk.

“we started seeing each other after johnny’s party,” lulu smiles, glancing at haechan. he matches her look, pulling her closer to his side.

wow.

“you guys are…,” i swallow the lump in my throat. “you look- really cute together!” i try to mimic their smiles, but nothing comes close to the lovesick grins on their faces. 

“y/n.” 

i follow the sound of my name, and jaehyun’s hand is extended towards me. i stare at it, confused, but also weirdly filled with relief for the distraction. 

“there’s a gap in the crowd, i think we can squeeze to the front.”

without even checking in with haechan and lulu, i quickly grab his escape offer and he’s dragging me through the audience. i can suddenly smell the sweat and dirt of the desert, the sweet alcohol on people’s breaths. i feel myself getting queasy and i make the mistake of looking back as jaehyun moves me forward.

i get the perfect view of haechan and lulu kissing, swaying to the intro of the song. my feet finally stop and i run into jaehyun’s chest, his head is naturally far above mine and his eyes follow where i once looked. 

“i’m sorry,” he sort of yells over the artist on stage.

“what for?” i yell back. he playfully pinches the redness on my cheeks (not from the sun) and rolls his eyes as if saying: you know what.

he just shakes his head and holds mine in his hands, almost cradling it.

“i-,” i try to turn back to look at them again and his hands cage me.

“don’t,” jaehyun stands firm. “you’ll just hurt yourself more.”

with my stomach churning a pain i’ve never experienced before, i nod. i’m so still, scared that that awful feeling will make its way up to my chest.

jaehyun pulls me into a brief hug, and turns his attention back to the stage, holding me from behind. i watch the people from my peripheral, lightly dancing to the music and i try so hard to do the same.

“just have fun,” jaehyun reminds me.

but everytime i blink, i see them kissing and it makes me want to puke. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

what r u doing tomorrowww?

i stare at my text from yesterday, as i sit on the couch in the dark, with an episode of “Love Island USA” luminating my face. minjeong had already called it a night, and was asleep in her room. i cringe whenever i let my eyes linger up to all the one sided messages above it and his scarce one word responses. 

it’s been a couple months since i’d last hung out with haechan one on one. of course, i still saw him in group outings but he was always preoccupied with that one long haired girl and her signature red lip. 

even then, he was never really present. at last week’s bowling night, he showed up halfway and played for two rounds before pleading defeat. haechan was never one to not be competitive, and yet he took lulu to the arcade area where they stayed — just the two of them — the rest of the night. when we all ordered ubers at the end of the night, the backseat was crammed with me, her, and all her newly won stuffed animals. there was also a suffocating thickness in those seats with us too, and i don’t think it was from the human sized teddy bear that weighed on my shoulder. 

to torture myself even more, i let myself open my calls and it was embarrassing how many times his name showed up in unreturned calls. i went to delete all recent calls when a notification filled my screen: an incoming call from mama lee.

“hi honey, sorry to call so late! just wanted to check in on you!” my heart instantly warmed at the familiar twang in her voice that her and haechan seemed to share. i can hear her TV in the background playing the same show as me.

“hi mama lee! i’m great, tired, all of the above. how are you?” i finally let myself settle into the couch, realizing i had been tense this whole time waiting for a certain someone.

“i’m good, glad to hear you are too. what’s this about you not coming next month?” haechan’s mom asked, straight to the point, and suddenly i’m sat up again.

“next month…,” i mutter to myself, trying to recall what she could be referring to.

next month… next month… is december. their annual christmas party. 

“oh! the christmas par-“ i start, excitement filling my body. it had become my favorite time of the year, thanks to him and his family. 

“sweetie, haechan told me you aren’t coming. which i find unfair because how am i supposed to meet this new girl in his life without you there? i don’t know this girl!”

static fills my ear and i check the TV to see if the connection had gone off. but it was still on. nausea immediately fills my stomach as the combination of his months long lack of contact and this sudden news makes me feel dizzy. it’s like i can finally and physically feel the distance haechan forced between us that i was trying so hard to ignore.

i’m at a crossroads of whether to be honest or play along, because what does she mean haechan said i’m not going to a party i’ve gone to every year? to a party that never required an invitation? to a party i often skip my own family’s to go to? 

“oh i… my mom, she, um,” i fumble over my words and i can feel water splat onto my thighs. i’m distraught trying to protect her peace as i can feel mine rapidly falling apart. 

“sorry,” i softly laugh, trying to compose myself. i tilt my head up, hoping it’ll stop the sudden tears. “my mom really wants me home this season, so i can’t go this year.”

“aw honey, you don’t understand how sad i was to hear from him. why didn’t you tell me? i bought your favorite ham a month in advance like the crazy woman i am.” we laugh, but it does nothing to lighten the weight in my chest. 

“ah. maybe haechan will save me some leftovers,” i say, but now doubt he will. 

“okay, well, i’m glad your mom’s reaching out.” she says, and i can tell she means it. sucks knowing it’s not even true.

mama lee continues, “it’s getting late for me. i gotta sleep, but i wanna hear more from you soon, okay? you owe me.” her sweet voice pierced my heart, and i feel myself hiccupping again.

“yes, ma’am,” i manage to get out, and we say our good night’s and i love you’s.

then my screen goes back to those cursed text messages and i delete our entire chat.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“he said what?” jaehyun’s eyes are as wide as i’ve ever seen them, fork suspended mid air. the egg falls from it, and comically splats onto the plate. 

we’re at the same cafe i often frequent with haechan, but because i’m here with jaehyun, we’re eating at an ungodly early hour of the day. i had never seen this place at this time, but jaehyun is an extreme morning bird. 

“i literally got uninvited from his family’s christmas party and i had to hear it from his mom.” i confess, surprised at how composed i sounded despite it being the most devastating news of my life. shockingly worse than finding out my parents were getting divorced back in high school. i saw it coming, but this? never in a million years.

“but you… you’ve always gone. his family is literally yours.” jaehyun’s confusion takes over his mouth, and i don’t think he realizes how much his obvious statement stung.

“i bought his siblings their gifts already too. i never thought i wouldn’t get the chance to exchange them?” i swirl the lukewarm coffee mug in my hands, not having the stomach to take a sip.

“this is fucked up. has he talked to you about it yet?” 

“nope,” i pop my lips. “what makes you think he even has the time to?” i sneer, referring to a certain woman occupying all his time. i feel disgusting having these ill feelings towards her, despite her literally not being at fault. 

jaehyun grimaces, and he instinctively gives my arm a squeeze. “doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole. he should’ve told you. but also, he shouldn’t have uninvited you in the first place? you’ve never not gone.”

i shrug, “maybe it was wrong of me to assume…”

“when you’ve gone every year since i’ve known you? you’ve gone more times than me and haechan and i are childhood neighbors. come on…” jaehyun plants the hard facts i’m unwilling to face, and i squirm in my seat. i take a sip of my coffee and feel it run down the sides of the knot in my throat, sickeningly bitter. 

“it’s whatever. anyways, since you’re going home, do you mind giving his siblings their gifts for me? minjeong invited me to her home for the holidays instead.”

“sure, but-“

“oh hey, guys?”

jaehyun and i look up from our table, stunned to hear the voice of our drama calling us. 

“haechan,” i only say, feeling awkward that we were just talking about him but also weird that this is the first i’ve seen him in weeks. 

he’s carrying a takeout bag in his hand, dressed in clothes he definitely picked up off the floor. i could see the side of his head where his pillow messed up his brown, fluffy hair and the bags under his eyes that always signal late night gaming. he’s wearing a confused look on his face as he scans jaehyun and i.

we’re sitting in our designated booth and before i could let myself feel like i’m cheating on him, the sour reminder of our conversation takes over.

“take out?” jaehyun wonders.

haechan clears his throat, shaking him out of the weird daze he was in. “yeah, lu is waiting at home.”

at home. the air leaves my lungs just hearing that come out of him, and i realize that this is a feeling i really need to dissect. this cannot be just platonic jealousy, right? losing my best friend these past few months isn’t supposed to hurt this bad.

“got plans for next month? when are you heading home?” jaehyun goes straight for the kill, and i kick the side of his foot to stop him from prying. i don’t know if i want to hear his answers.

haechan’s eyes widen and he immediately looks at me. his hands tighten around the white plastic takeout bag. i can see his mind struggle to tell me something and the pained look on his face makes me want to save him the trouble. he begins to start and i just can’t bear it.

“minjeong’s taking me to hers this christmas,” i cut him off, filling him in on my newfound plans, that i really didn’t have a choice in making if i wanted to not spend the holidays alone. it hurts seeing the way his body relaxes, i can visibly see him fill with the relief of knowing i’m not going. my eyes naturally water, and i quickly dab them away. 

“can you let your mom know i can’t come this year? i don’t know if i could tell her myself,” i shrug, mustering a close lipped smile. i can feel jaehyun’s disappointing glare burn into my face, or maybe it’s the sharp sting of his hand that just punched my thigh under the table. 

“oh. oh! yeah, yeah, of course,” haechan forces sadness onto his facial features. “sorry to hear you can’t go, but holidays at minjeong’s sounds fun! we’ll miss you,” he starts to fidget with the bag now and his feet shift. he scratches the back of his left ear, a tell-tale sign that he’s uncomfortable… or feeling guilty.

“ah, but you always go to the lee holiday party?” jaehyun turns towards me, boldness flashing in his eyes as he dares me to address it. 

“next time!” haechan quickly interjects. “don’t worry about it!”

“i’m not.” i state, point blank, and a new expression paints his face that i can’t decipher.

“we-well, lulu’s probably starving by now, so. i’ll see you guys later?” haechan rambles out, already taking steps away from us.

“maybe,” i shrug, feeling the iciness take over my body and make its way into my words. 

“right,” haechan nods, stumbling as he leaves the cafe. i don’t bother watching him leave, starting to stab my food aggressively with my fork. 

“i can’t believe he just did that,” jaehyun says in disbelief, but i’m so consumed with rage i can barely hear him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

i get voicemails from haechan’s siblings on the morning of christmas, thanking me for the gifts, wondering why i’m not there, and most importantly, asking me who this lulu is and why she’s taken my spot. i make a mental note to call them back when i’m not downing mugs of minjeong’s dad’s strangely strong eggnog.

somehow the classical christmas music that had been playing on loop for the past two hours in minjeong’s living room had shifted to karaoke, and i can feel the alcohol hitting everyone all at once. the matching pajamas that her family forced me to wear started to feel too warm on my skin like it didn’t belong on me. i sat and watched her drunk uncle sing to a random Justin Bieber song and i catch myself thinking singing must not run in their family the way it does for haechan’s.

i itch to call him, but i know i shouldn’t. but the guilt of not even wishing him a merry christmas eats me up despite him having yet to do the same. i avoided mentioning him all day because i knew minjeong would say something, but now that she’s too preoccupied with her solo, i slip into her childhood room. 

it feels like i’m walking on a moving boat as i cross her room to crash onto her bed. her popcorn ceiling spins in my vision and i groan at how out of body i feel. 

my thumb is already clicking his contact before i could register it and my phone blinks, indicating he’s picked up.

“hello?” i hear him faintly on the other side, chatter quieting in the background. i put him on speaker and i hear him shut a door. the party sounds on his side are now muffled.

“hi haechan. merry christmas,” i don’t notice how sweet my voice sounds till a second later and my whole body cringes.  

i hear him sigh, and i turn to my side, cradling my phone. “merry christmas.”

“how’sss… the party?” i ask, just trying to keep him on the line for as long as possible. 

“crazy per usual. the kids say thank you for the gifts, i made sure they called you too. did you get them?” his voice is so clear and sober, i feel like a groggy mess talking to him. i want him to sound as messy as me. his words sting like ice with how composed he sounds. 

“mhmmm,” i hum. “i’m glad, so so so glad.” i play with the frays of minjeong’s blanket between my fingers, starting to sing my words. 

“sounds like you’re having fun,” haechan laughs under his breath. “we miss you here.”

that statement alone felt like an ice cold bucket of water dunked over my head. my vision suddenly cleared, the room stilled, and i felt like i could hear even a pin drop. how could he say that when he fought so hard to isolate me like this?

“is that so?” i test him. 

“yeah, of course,” haechan starts. “you know it’s not the same without you.” i hear his bed creak and i know he’s sitting on the left corner where one of his bed slats has cracked. haechan used to volunteer to sleep on that side on the holiday weekends when i was over. he’d start on that side and in the middle of the night, i’d hear it creak as he rolled over to cuddle me. he’d apologize every time in the morning despite it never being an issue for me. 

thinking of that memory being lost and forgotten hurt more than the fact that it could be replaced by another person right now. 

i sit up, ignoring the spinning of my head. “is that what you told your mom?” my voice sounded sterner than i thought it could at this level of toxicity. 

he’s silent on his end. i give him a couple seconds to see if he’d confess. 

“you know she actually called me a month ago. said you told her i wasn’t coming.” i continued. he’s still quiet and it’s so pathetic.

“i had to lie to her, haechan,” i hiccup, tasting salt in my mouth that wasn’t there before. “i told her that my mom reached out to me which was probably such a bad lie since we both know she’d never do that.” 

haechan hissed, and it’s like i can see him in his childhood room, trying to rub the stress out from the creases between  his eyes. 

“i had to lie and say that, instead of the truth. the truth being that my best friend doesn’t want me at his family party, in his life even, and he didn’t have the fucking guts to tell me.” i spit out these words like venom, and i can hear them hitting him through the phone, not knowing if they’re doing the damage i want them to.

“look, i… i didn’t know what to do. please, just-“ suddenly i feel the balance shift, and i can feel how small he sounds on the other end. hiding in his room like a coward.

“your mom texted me pictures, said she wishes i was there. it hurt so bad, haechan,” i start crying and i thank god that the karaoke is still blasting because i can’t control how loud my sobs are. “it hurt so bad seeing you two laughing and looking happy in those pictures.”

i didn’t have to specify who; he knows. i know he knows with the way he falls silent. i almost think he hung up.

“i’m sorry,” is all he can say. it could’ve been a fly buzzing by my ear with how insignificant his lackluster apology sounded right now.

“i thought it would be me,” i confess, surprising him and myself. and it feels better than i expected, or maybe it’s the alcohol suppressing my anxieties. i wonder how good it must feel to be lulu, knowing that the boy that i love is now in love with her. 

“i know,” he says. i hang up so fast, tossing my phone away, because i almost think i hallucinate him saying “me too.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

when the plane landed, i had 4 missed calls from haechan, 2 from his mom, and 1 from his sister. i didn’t end up telling minjeong what transpired because she was already so upset leaving her family the following morning; her eyes were all puffy. a day has passed and i still haven’t said anything, not sure if it’s because i’m over it or if it’s out of embarrassment. 

it wasn’t till later today where i was forced to confront what happened when jaehyun calls, desperately asking to be picked up from the airport. 

“i don’t see you, are you sure you’re at terminal 1? i’m literally at the end of it.” i practically scream through the call connected to my old 2008 lexus. 

“what? no, terminal 2. we’re at terminal 2,” jaehyun repeats, just as loudly.

“wait. we?” i ask, before spotting the two boys with their luggages at the curb of terminal 2, and a girl beside them.

i pull in, trying my best not to stare, cursing under my breath and hoping whatever bad karma i’ve collected throughout my twenty plus years of life gets passed onto jaehyun for omitting this important detail. i put the car in park and hop out to open the trunk. 

“you owe me,” i say at the exact same time as jaehyun’s, “i owe you.” 

he puts his luggage in and picks me up into a spinning hug. i smack his solid shoulder, not falling for his buttering tactics. 

“you smell like the plane,” i scowl. jaehyun just laughs and taps the trunk of my car, still open and waiting for the others standing awkwardly to the side. 

“haechan, you okay? you know we’ve landed, right?” he jokes in response to his friend’s stillness.

i don’t even bother giving haechan a glance despite feeling his eyes try their best to make contact with mine. i simply get back into the driver’s seat, waiting for them to finish loading the car. 

eventually, i hear the passenger door open and i turn, ready to talk to jaehyun, but it’s not him. 

“why are you—“ 

“feeling sick from the plane, i don’t think i can sit in the back.” haechan says, matter of factly. 

i narrow my eyes at him, shocked at the way i can look at him now and ignore the sound of my heart breaking.

his brown hair has gotten longer, it curls around the nape of his neck. its messy all on top like he’s ran his hands through it multiple times. the wind from outside makes it flop everywhere. on top of that, his eyes are tired and his cheeks i liked to pinch so much sag a little. 

his lips are rolled in and chapped as he waits for me to challenge him and i don’t have the energy to. so i just redirect my attention to the two in the back.

“lulu, am i dropping you off with haechan?” she’s sitting neatly in my car and we both can feel how weird this is.

“ummm, my house is fine, if it’s not too out of the way,” she smiles at me. “thanks for picking us up.”

i decide not to shoot haechan a questioning look and i just let her punch in her address. 

during the whole twenty minute ride, i’m asking jaehyun as many questions as possible, sounding like someone really invested in his christmas plans. i eventually got a detailed breakdown of his entire weekend itinerary. haechan wasn’t able to get a single word in, but it also didn’t seem like he wanted to — which was odd for him. 

i dropped lulu off and i begin mapping to haechan’s, when he stops me. 

“jaehyun’s closer.” 

“no i’m not.” “no he’s not.” jaehyun and i say simultaneously. 

“yes, he is,” haechan says sternly, already having the GPS set. 

i don’t have the energy to fight him so i drive to jaehyun’s, not needing the directions. i can see him twiddling his thumbs in the back and i make glances through the rearview mirror. he just shrugs and i chew my lip nervously. 

“thanks again for the ride. breakfast on me tomorrow?” jaehyun offers once we reach his place, head sticking through my driver side window, duffel strapped onto his shoulder. 

haechan’s head pokes out from my peripheral, “she’s got plans.” 

my eyebrows shoot up at the same time jaehyun’s eyes go wide. he simply nods and gives me a shoulder squeeze good bye. 

i pull out of his apartment complex, and start heading towards haechan’s, praying the silence isn’t disturbed during this short five minute drive. 

“i can’t believe you got my brother that new ps5 game,” haechan starts. “mom’s already using it as leverage to get his grades up.”

i simply hum in response, not letting my eyes drift off the road. 

“she really liked the necklace you got her. she practically screamed when she opened the box.” i can’t see it, but i can feel him smiling fondly. his family’s happiness always meant the most to him.

i can’t help the warm relief i feel in my chest knowing his mom liked my gift. unfortunately, my thoughts turn sour as i wonder if she liked it more than the gift lulu got her. my hands grip the wheel tighter.

“she grilled me pretty bad this morning… i told her the truth.” now it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the car.

“and what is ‘the truth’?” i manage to say. 

he goes quiet again and i see his apartment up ahead. i pull over and park the car, not caring how far we actually were, and turned the engine off. the car is still humming as it settles down, and i take my seatbelt off, hoping it’ll take the weird weight off my chest. 

“what’d you tell her, haechan?” 

he sat still and didn’t move a muscle. i can see his brain churning as he refuses to look at me now. but i’m staring at him dead on, unrelenting. 

“i told her that i didn’t want you there.”

wow. 

i blinked. and i blinked. and i blinked, hoping my eyes would deceive me into seeing some sort of sign that he was lying. a flinch. an ear scratch. anything.

i open my mouth to say something (im not sure what) and i hope he beats me to it, ready to deny his claim, but he doesn’t. 

after all these years in each other’s lives, this is how he truly feels? a huge chunk of me wants to convince myself he must be lying, but how could i when he’s saying it straight to my face like this. so many questions run through my head and each one left unanswered feels like another stab to the chest.

when did he start feeling this way? was our friendship just a charity for him? were my feelings for him never reciprocated in the slightest? was it all a lie?

“and… and that’s your truth?” i whisper, but it felt like a desperate cry, begging him to say no. 

“yes. and what’s even more true is that i broke your heart.” 

he peaks at me, between the cracks of his fingers that are now cradling his face. i can tell he’s not being fully honest about what’s going on between us, and i’m not sure if he can right now, but he wasn’t wrong about what he said about the state of my heart. 

“hm. ‘tis the season.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

while shutting my laptop screen, i say bye to my coworkers as we leave the conference room. despite usually getting winter break off, my boss had called in an emergency meeting to settle things before people start truly ignoring their work emails. my coworkers had every right to complain about coming in on a saturday during the holidays while they badged into the building, but i didn’t mind. no meeting could be worse than the week i’ve had. 

i was last to leave the floor since i had a couple things at my desk to grab. getting onto the elevator alone, i watched the numbers descend until it halted at the 21st floor. i awkwardly side stepped to make room for the oncoming person as the doors parted. 

“oh.” i could only gape because right in front of me was lulu.

“oh!” she returned, before giving me a wave and getting in. “they got you working the holidays too?”

i try to look at her from my peripheral, but it feels too awkward. like any movement on my part would be weird. 

“not really, my boss just stresses and so she called a quick meeting.” i roll my lips in, teetering on the balls of my feet. could this elevator be any slower?

“oh wow. mine doesn’t believe in holiday breaks, hence why i’m here. i didn’t know you worked in this building.” she eyes my laptop, looking for a company name.

“it was my first job out of college, but they had me working remote for my first year.” i explain.

“oh, that makes sense. i feel like i’m always here and yet i only saw you for the first time with hae-” lulu cuts herself off, and clears her throat.

my face grows hot, immediately thinking that she must’ve heard from him about my drunk christmas breakdown. i’d be furious if i weren’t so embarrassed right now. i turn to finally look at her, in an attempt to take control of this situation. 

“too many floors, lots of people,” i smile half-heartedly, giving her a shrug. finally, the elevator stops at the lobby and i let out a breath that i don’t mean to.

“anyways, happy holidays! maybe i’ll see you at johnny’s,” i wave my white flag, coming to terms with this being my reality if her and haechan continue dating. i'm done fighting it.

lulu doesn’t get off the elevator, and she tilts her head, puzzlement painting her face. she shakes it off quickly and just nods, reaching her hand out to keep the door from shutting on her.

i hurry out the building, muttering curses under my breath because of course, not only did i have to run into lulu, but i forgot my coat at my desk as well. wrapping my cardigan tighter around my body, i trudge through the city streets to get to my car because of course, our parking garage is closed.

i hear someone calling my name behind me, and i turn around to see lulu chasing after me. her cheeks look pink like they were whipped by the recent cold winds. and yes, she looks perfect.

“i wanted- i wanted to clarify something.” she catches her breath, holding onto my shoulder. i try not to knock it off like a bitch, so i glare at her hand, waiting for her to get a hint. but she doesn’t, or pretends she doesn't, as she continues.

“we broke up,” she starts. “and yeah, it has to do with us as individuals, but it was mainly… it was mainly to do with you.” 

while rooted in shock, i search her to face to find any ounce of rage or bitterness towards me. my guards are up looking for a sign that she was going to slap me across the face, but i sensed nothing. i’m about to ask her why when she starts again.

“he hurt me pretty bad, but i should’ve seen it coming. i’m not you,” she shrugs, as if she’s already come to terms with her feelings. she says it as if it was a true and proven fact. but none of what she said makes sense to me. also, i know we’re not talking, but why didn’t he tell me? why didn’t he tell any of us?

“i don’t understand…” i say.

“i’ve said too much. you don’t need to understand right now, just promise you’ll hear him out. i know you don’t think you owe me anything, but you technically cost me my boyfriend so… do me this favor.”

before i could agree to anything, she finally lets go of my shoulder and laughs with relief. she tosses her hair over her shoulder and takes a breath, recollecting herself. she never looked like she was in shambles – as she is portraying – to begin with. 

“that felt good. anyway, happy holidays to you too.” and lulu walked away. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

johnny’s new year’s extravaganza is on full blast — the biggest turn out he’s ever had. a lot of people ditched their work parties and their family events to gather in his house for a better time. it was so busy that there was barely any open space and he ran out of ice.

before he could instacart some with his drunk trembling fingers, i’m taking the phone from him.

“i’ll get it!” i yelled over the DJ — the DJ is him. “i didn’t drink, i’ll go pick some up!” 

he takes one side of his headphones off, tilting his head asking, are you sure? but the puppy dog look in his eyes shows how much he prefers this over those hiked up delivery fees.

i give him his phone back and tell him i’ll be back in a few. on my way out, i catch a stumbling minjeong and she says she’s gonna stay the night. 

right before i reach the door, jaehyun and our friends come down the stairs, smoke wafting around them. my eyes automatically count the number of them and of course, i notice one missing.

“hey where’s-“ i stop myself, rolling my lips in. unfortunately, they’re not high enough to mishear me or maybe it’s expected of me to want to know his whereabouts. maybe it’s obvious to everyone how i feel about him. what do i know?

“he never showed up,” mark says. “guess he’s not feeling well? did johnny get new floors?” 

mark cautiously steps around like the floor is made of fragile glass and i grab onto his arm, afraid he’s going to fall. he starts giggling like crazy and it’s so cute. 

jaehyun quickly steps in and catches mark’s weight before it crushes me. i give him a thanks and tell him i’m going to get ice. 

“you sure? it’s so late. fuck johnny, we can drink lukewarm drinks.”

i shake my head, “i think i need the air anyways.”

he offers me his car after checking that i’m sober, but i turn him down, already making my way out.

the air is lightly crisp and chilly, no clouds in the sky. it’s the perfect new year weather for fireworks. i’m already two blocks down and there’s still people from his party scattered on the streets. 

while deep in my thoughts about a certain missing someone, i realize i missed the turn to the gas station and am now walking home. as suffocating as it was in that packed house, it felt worse choking on my persistent thoughts in the middle of the night. 

i can feel the deepening crack in my heart that only made this new loneliness of the holiday more apparent. i just finished sending johnny an apology text and i start digging in my purse for my keys. 

the steps to my apartment complex’s front door is occupied by a pair of shoes, connected to a pair of legs, holding up a tired looking haechan. my toes meet his in my haggard search to find my keys and i almost fall back in surprise. he quickly stands to catch my wrist and i’m yanked into his chest, keys falling to the ground.

“what are you- what are you doing here?” i twist my arm out of his grip and take a step back onto flat ground. a small part of me (a big one) fills with relief knowing he was here the whole time and is okay and i feel betrayed by that side of me. 

he looks at me incredulously like he’s not the one camped outside my house. then he looks around to see if anyone is with me, growing concerned.

“what the hell are you doing walking home alone at this time? those assholes couldn’t take you?” standing two steps above me, haechan lectures me like a parent and i’m in no position to be scolded. like a child, the irritation easily blooms in my chest.

“stop acting like you care. it’s pissing me off.” i groan, suddenly feeling all the tiredness from the day in my bones. “you made it clear how you feel about me so just… stop.” you’re confusing me, i think.

i stand here challenging him, quirking an eyebrow waiting for him to move. 

he grabs my lanyard off the ground instead.

“look i…can i?” he gestures to the door, wanting to go inside, looking defeated. his shoulders have fallen from their tense position and haechan just looks so worn out. with how disheveled his appearance is, it looks like he had been waiting outside for hours.

“i… don’t know if that’s a good idea.” i bite my lip, trying to fight the annoying guilt i feel like i’m leaving a stray puppy out in the cold. but i knew that if i let him into my circle again, i’d just end up even more hurt. 

haechan just nods, handing me my keys back. “if you want the whole neighborhood to know how badly i fucked up and how awfully sorry i am, i don’t mind doing this outside.” 

“doing what exactly?” i ask, crossing my arms in front of me. for someone standing so tall above me, he now looked so vulnerable from where i stood below him. 

“apologizing.” haechan states, taking a step down. “confessing.” another step down. perfectly level.

my lips are holding back so many questions, so many exclamations. he can see it in my eyes how quickly my mind runs and how hard i’m trying to not blurt all my thoughts out. i want him to continue, he needs to.

“lulu and i broke up, first of all. that awkward airport car ride was not just awkward because of… us.” he laughs, reliving the scene. i can hear lulu’s words repeating in my head, but i refuse to make sense of them right now. 

“i think… i realize… i was just playing house with her. forcing myself to keep this seemingly easy girlfriend because… because the one i truly wanted scared me so badly.” haechan looks at me with his soft, round brown eyes, making it so obvious who he was referring to. it made me hopeful enough to ask. 

“i scare you?” i say quietly, still so confused and processing the millions of emotions coarsing through my chest. you want me?

“you terrify me.” 

“i don’t un-“

“the way you love me terrifies me. the thought of losing you terrifies me. the way i feel for you terrifies me. the thought of not being enough for you terrifies me!” as he lists, his voice gets louder and i have to grip his forearm to get him to quiet down. 

“haechan…”

“no, i’ve spent years with this fear, fighting my fucking feelings for you just to feel safe. but this… what i’ve done? it feels a million times worse than whatever this stupid fear may manifest. and i should’ve known from all those romcoms you make me watch where the male lead makes the same fucking mistake!” his eyes are ground in by the palms of his hands, pushing back on the tension i can see brewing in his head. 

“i messed up so bad thinking i was doing both of us a favor. but i hurt you more than i ever thought i could. i’m an asshole.” he cries, sniffling hard. with his hands now at his sides, fists clenched, i can clearly see the tears he tried so hard to hold back. 

“i’m sorry… but i love you.” haechan confesses with a pained smile on his tear-stained face, shrugging like it’s truly something to be apologizing for. 

it makes my heart spur with something along the lines of anger, but not quite.

“you’re an idiot for thinking you should ever be sorry for that.” 

i finally speak up. “you’re so stupid!” i shove him, feeling my bag fall off my shoulder.

“you’re so, so stupid!” i punch at his chest, bag smacking onto the floor. 

“i know, i know i-“ he stammers.

“no! you don’t know! how could you decide all of this for us? that not having me in your life would be easier than taking a chance on-on losing me? or loving me?! do you understand how selfish you sound? how selfish you’ve been?” i’m enraged. my fingers are curled around the fabric of the bottom of his shirt because i still can’t quite reach his collar. i’m desperate for him to genuinely hear me for what feels like the first time in months. 

his jaw is locked, eyes watery to match mine, as he files through what he could say in response. 

“what’s even shittier is that you knew this whole time how much i loved you,” my voice cracks, a hiccup escaping my mouth. 

“loved?” he asks, sounding wounded by the past tense. and it drives me nuts that that’s what he latched onto. 

“love, you idiot,” i clarify without hesitation. “i love you so much…”

and despite how clear that confession was, haechan searches my eyes like he’s looking for more to be said. like he can easily palpate the true feelings i’ve been holding back, begging me to continue. 

“…enough to maybe overlook this.” i let go, knowing i can’t hold back any longer. 

haechan’s face shifts almost instantly, not shying away from laughing out of pure relief. “oh my god,” he gasps, taking my hands from his shirt and weaving them with his own to clutch tight to his chest. “thank god.” 

i can feel his heart racing between our hands intertwined. it feels like the same one drumming in my chest. i look at his face against the night sky and it feels both strange and comforting that he’s so freely staring at me with that lovesick look in his eyes. they sparkle like they’re mimicking the stars above him. 

“have i told you i’m sorry? i need you to know i’m sorry and that i’m going to fix everything. i promise.” he kisses my knuckles lightly, scared to push it. 

before i can respond, we both faintly hear the muffled yells of the neighborhood counting in sync. 

5!

our eyes widen simultaneously, suddenly realizing where we were and what time it was. we start laughing as the bubble around us pops.

4!

haechan shakes his head at the timing of it all, eyes bright and sparkly at the prospects. he already looks so much lighter and he looks at me like i’m a new beginning.

3!

despite all the anger i had felt for him, my body knows better and my arms make their way around his neck, lifting me up a little higher to meet his face. 

2!

his mouth parts, head cocked slightly to the side as if to ask if this was truly okay. i shyly nod and he instantly brings his hands to my waist to pull me impossibly closer. i laugh at his eagerness and i can feel the joy rumbling in his chest against mine. 

1! 

… happy new year!

a startling crack erupts above us, sending a flurry of colors into the sky. i tilt my chin to look up, but he takes this new angle to capture my lips with his instead. the new and exciting feeling of his mouth against mine sends a surge of electricity coursing through my body at a rate that matches the fireworks above. his fingers curve into my hips as if i could disappear at any moment and i cradle the nape of his neck to let him know i’m still here. 

we hear hooting and hollering, poppers going off, and champagne bottles bursting open. it feels like the whole world is celebrating us, as ridiculous as it sounds. 

my body is consumed with how much i just love kissing haechan; i can’t help the smile that makes its way onto my face, and our teeth awkwardly clink. he laughs under his breath, letting me know he feels the same, and it feels good to just rejoice in this mutual buzz. he gives me a peck on the lips, then another on my cheek, and another on my forehead. he goes for the other cheek but i meet him with my lips instead. 

“hey,” i get his attention.

his eyebrows perk and he gives me a sly look, “heyyy…”

i scoff, but it doesn’t match the giddy smile on my face. “no, dumbass. hey, don’t think this one kiss solves everything, okay?” i take him by his shoulders to put some distance between us so he knows i mean business.

“so like… 500 more kisses will do the trick or…?” he starts leaning in and i shove my hand over his mouth.

“haechan!” 

“okay, okay! i’m joking! trust,” he tears my palm off his face. “my mom already warned me that it’d take way more than this to win you back.” 

“she said that?” i snicker. 

“i told you she ripped me a new one. she didn’t need to, i knew how badly i fucked up. but she loves you almosttt as much as i do, so i don’t blame her.” he smiles, looking at me in a way i had only imagined in my dreams. 

“and you’re not… scared anymore?” 

“i am.” he says confidently, but there’s no doubt riddled on his face. “but i want this more than whatever insecurities i may have. i want you way more.” 

haechan rests his head onto mine, taking in a deep breath, “so will you have me?”

i pretend to think about it to tease him and he pokes at my side. “forgiving a cute brunette boy was actually one of my new years’ resolutions so yeah.”

“oh how gracious of you,” he jokes, hand over his heart, shaken by my generosity. “can we kiss again?”

“that’s actually another one of my-“

“oh shut up.” and i do. or really, he shuts me up.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

minjeong turns her phone back to her and studies the photo closer. i can see her newly painted nails zooming in.

“i think i heard about johnny hosting a last minute thing… haechan didn’t tell you?” she doesn’t look at me, still focused on the picture, head tilted in confusion. 

i shrug, trying to act like not knowing of his whereabouts is a normal thing. it’s not, by the way.

“he knew i was hanging out with you, maybe that’s why.”

minjeong immediately scoffs, locking her phone and putting it away. “fuck off. you know he doesn’t give a shit that you’re with me. you’re his go to drinking buddy. he whines like a puppy when you take shots without him.” 

she laughs, but it’s half out of disgust. 

“well, it looks like he has a new one, so…” i intend for that to pass as a lighthearted joke, but there’s a snappiness that escapes my mouth. i wince and she looks at me with a softness in her eyes.

“oh babe…” she scoots closer to me on her rug, putting her arms out in an obnoxious gesture to comfort me.

“donnnn’tttt…,” i groan. “it was a joke. i’m not hurt. put those things away.” i slap at her hands and she pouts, arms still up, not backing down.

“haechan is so…” minjeong sighs, resting her head on my shoulder. 

“yeah. yeah, i know.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

haechan and i are eating breakfast at our designated corner booth in the cafe between our two apartments. i can see the hungover drowsiness on his face. purple eye bags to match the purple splotches growing on his neck.

he’s chewing on his pancakes when i decide to ask, “so how was your night?” i flick at one of the hickeys on his neck and he flinches.

“heyyy!” he says through a mouthful of food, cheeks puffed out. 

“what was i supposed to do?” i shrug, innocently. “it’s like this huge, ginormous, gigantic, red target that i just have to-“ i aim for my next flick and he grabs my wrist swiftly.

“okay, cool it.” he drops my hand and it plops into my lap. 

i snicker at his nippy attitude, pinching his cheek to instigate further. “pouty boy was at johnny’s last night?”

haechan turns to look at me, throwing a lazy smirk. “you stalking me?” he says, earning me a groan.

i unlock my phone to show him my new prized lockscreen, an overexposed picture of two very drunk men smiling goofily. “you two idiots sent me a selfie last night.”

he hisses, nose scrunched up in distaste at the ridiculous picture of him and johnny. “not my best angle.”

“not sure if you have any,” i tease and haechan gives me a lopsided grin. “so who’s the lucky girl?”

“wouldn’t you like to know?” he counters, going in for another bite of my bacon. i let him take it.

“yeah, that’s why i asked,” i say with as much nonchalance as i could muster. i take my bacon strip back from his hands, even though there’s already not much left of it.

feeling bad, he cuts pieces of his pancake and puts them on my plate. i smile giddily, reaching for the syrup.

“her name’s lulu.” i pause mid syrup pour, not expecting him to have remembered her name. i clear my throat, recollecting myself, and continued to drench my food. 

it’s not that haechan is this dumb boy who gets around a lot. he totally could be with the amount of attention he used to get in college. but he was always careful about how far he’d flirt with someone, which is impressive considering his naturally charming personality. most words that came out of his mouth sounded like a pick up line.

i could only recall one serious relationship from our college years, and that in itself only lasted three months. of course, i remember him dating, but that’s all it was- super casual attempts to form a lasting relationship that never really pulled through. he’d go on a couple dates every so often, but never bothered me with the details because the details never seemed to matter. it was actually kind of cold, how he had approached dating.

but now i have a name. he has a name.

“oh wow,” i respond. “is this lulu… the one?” i joke, but the question leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, even with all the sugar from his pancakes.

“god, i forgot i’m talking to you.” haechan winces.

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean!” i elbow him in the side.

“it means i’m talking to a delusional hopeless romantic.” and weirdly that puts me at ease, that must mean he’s not too serious about her right? but then again, why should i care? right?

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” i roll my eyes.

he just shakes his head, chuckling. “i’ll probably see her again this week.”

“oh?” i look at his side profile, watching him casually tap his phone screen to check for notifications. 

his lockscreen lights up and i’m reminded of our annual joint birthday party from earlier this year. it’s a picture of us with our shared cake, candles all lit, with our arms drunkenly wrapped tightly around the other. i remember our group of friends huddled around us, singing loudly and off tune. i’m looking at him as he’s looking at the camera and-

lulu texts.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“there are my girls!”

a very intoxicated johnny starts running towards minjeong and i, beer can sloshing around his hand and onto the dirt lot. following behind him are the rest of the group, matching his lack of sobriety.

“aww, you started without us,” minjeong pouts, taking the drink from him. johnny doesn’t fight it, smiling down at her.

“you guys got here so late, you missed the first couple sets!” jaehyun appears next to me, giving me a side hug and hovers there. he’s definitely buzzed already. he offers me a sip of his drink, which i gladly take.

“couldn’t get an uber, we were fighting for our lives. oh my god, it was so bad.” i groaned, throwing back the can so i can quickly get on their level.

“should’ve just left work early and met up with us,” johnny tsks.

“i just had one more work call! i didn’t know it’d go for that long,” minjeong explains, her slumped figure showing how exhausted she was. regardless, her last minute festival outfit looked amazing.

i scan the group and my brain notices the missing brunette.

“where’s haechan?” i look to jaehyun. he juts his head out aimlessly to the crowd of festival people.

“getting another drink,” he says, head bobbing to the surrounding sounds.

“he better have gotten me one,” i start, looking for him, expecting two drinks to be in his hands.

and there he is, jogging towards us, with a cup and… a girl.

i tense up and jaehyun takes it as a cue to relax into me further, heavy arm around my shoulders. i’m about to tell his drunk ass to get off, when he gives me a knowing look. confused, i let him lean on me.

“took you guys long enough,” haechan quips, and the girl remains standing slightly behind him.

“tell me about it,” minjeong rolls her eyes. then she looks at the girl and then back at haechan and then back at the girl. the rest of the group is quiet waiting for haechan to introduce her to minjeong and i, but his lips stay shut, completely unaware.

“hi, i’m minjeong,” she abruptly breaks the silence. her hand is extended and the girl takes hers out of haechan’s to shake it.

“lulu, so nice to meet you,” she smiles so sweetly i can tell she means it.

“i'm y/n,” i cut in, just waving at her, not really able to move any closer. there’s no glimpse of recognition on her face. she just gives me a “hi” and a smile like i’m just another girl a part of the friend group. no big deal.

jaehyun hums, “so should we go see the next stage?”

“let’s,” i say, desperate to get going and out of this weird air. jaehyun leads the way, and i follow suit, trying to limit my haechan interactions. something in my chest just tells me i don’t want to be speaking to him right now. 

unfortunately, he doesn’t know that so he’s catching up to me with lulu in tow.

“nice outfit, very 2024 of you,” haechan teases, flicking the seam of my reused skirt.

“kinda creepy that you remember i wore this to last year’s fest too…” i glare judgingly.

“you were complaining about how cold you were the entire time. how could i not?” he smirks. “ride was okay?”

“expensive, but okay,” i nodded, trying to act casual. “i’m sorry, lulu, right?”

said girl perks up from behind haechan and catches up to our pace. “yes, hi! sorry for crashing your guys’ plans. my friends bailed so… and then chanie asked and yeah!”

“oh chanie’s sweet like that,” i peer at haechan and his cheeks are pink at the sound of that nickname leaving my mouth. 

“how do you guys know each other?” i ask innocently. haechan throws me a knowing look and lets lulu talk.

“we started seeing each other after johnny’s party,” lulu smiles, glancing at haechan. he matches her look, pulling her closer to his side.

wow.

“you guys are…,” i swallow the lump in my throat. “you look- really cute together!” i try to mimic their smiles, but nothing comes close to the lovesick grins on their faces. 

“y/n.” 

i follow the sound of my name, and jaehyun’s hand is extended towards me. i stare at it, confused, but also weirdly filled with relief for the distraction. 

“there’s a gap in the crowd, i think we can squeeze to the front.”

without even checking in with haechan and lulu, i quickly grab his escape offer and he’s dragging me through the audience. i can suddenly smell the sweat and dirt of the desert, the sweet alcohol on people’s breaths. i feel myself getting queasy and i make the mistake of looking back as jaehyun moves me forward.

i get the perfect view of haechan and lulu kissing, swaying to the intro of the song. my feet finally stop and i run into jaehyun’s chest, his head is naturally far above mine and his eyes follow where i once looked. 

“i’m sorry,” he sort of yells over the artist on stage.

“what for?” i yell back. he playfully pinches the redness on my cheeks (not from the sun) and rolls his eyes as if saying: you know what.

he just shakes his head and holds mine in his hands, almost cradling it.

“i-,” i try to turn back to look at them again and his hands cage me.

“don’t,” jaehyun stands firm. “you’ll just hurt yourself more.”

with my stomach churning a pain i’ve never experienced before, i nod. i’m so still, scared that that awful feeling will make its way up to my chest.

jaehyun pulls me into a brief hug, and turns his attention back to the stage, holding me from behind. i watch the people from my peripheral, lightly dancing to the music and i try so hard to do the same.

“just have fun,” jaehyun reminds me.

but everytime i blink, i see them kissing and it makes me want to puke. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

what r u doing tomorrowww?

i stare at my text from yesterday, as i sit on the couch in the dark, with an episode of “Love Island USA” luminating my face. minjeong had already called it a night, and was asleep in her room. i cringe whenever i let my eyes linger up to all the one sided messages above it and his scarce one word responses. 

it’s been a couple months since i’d last hung out with haechan one on one. of course, i still saw him in group outings but he was always preoccupied with that one long haired girl and her signature red lip. 

even then, he was never really present. at last week’s bowling night, he showed up halfway and played for two rounds before pleading defeat. haechan was never one to not be competitive, and yet he took lulu to the arcade area where they stayed — just the two of them — the rest of the night. when we all ordered ubers at the end of the night, the backseat was crammed with me, her, and all her newly won stuffed animals. there was also a suffocating thickness in those seats with us too, and i don’t think it was from the human sized teddy bear that weighed on my shoulder. 

to torture myself even more, i let myself open my calls and it was embarrassing how many times his name showed up in unreturned calls. i went to delete all recent calls when a notification filled my screen: an incoming call from mama lee.

“hi honey, sorry to call so late! just wanted to check in on you!” my heart instantly warmed at the familiar twang in her voice that her and haechan seemed to share. i can hear her TV in the background playing the same show as me.

“hi mama lee! i’m great, tired, all of the above. how are you?” i finally let myself settle into the couch, realizing i had been tense this whole time waiting for a certain someone.

“i’m good, glad to hear you are too. what’s this about you not coming next month?” haechan’s mom asked, straight to the point, and suddenly i’m sat up again.

“next month…,” i mutter to myself, trying to recall what she could be referring to.

next month… next month… is december. their annual christmas party. 

“oh! the christmas par-“ i start, excitement filling my body. it had become my favorite time of the year, thanks to him and his family. 

“sweetie, haechan told me you aren’t coming. which i find unfair because how am i supposed to meet this new girl in his life without you there? i don’t know this girl!”

static fills my ear and i check the TV to see if the connection had gone off. but it was still on. nausea immediately fills my stomach as the combination of his months long lack of contact and this sudden news makes me feel dizzy. it’s like i can finally and physically feel the distance haechan forced between us that i was trying so hard to ignore.

i’m at a crossroads of whether to be honest or play along, because what does she mean haechan said i’m not going to a party i’ve gone to every year? to a party that never required an invitation? to a party i often skip my own family’s to go to? 

“oh i… my mom, she, um,” i fumble over my words and i can feel water splat onto my thighs. i’m distraught trying to protect her peace as i can feel mine rapidly falling apart. 

“sorry,” i softly laugh, trying to compose myself. i tilt my head up, hoping it’ll stop the sudden tears. “my mom really wants me home this season, so i can’t go this year.”

“aw honey, you don’t understand how sad i was to hear from him. why didn’t you tell me? i bought your favorite ham a month in advance like the crazy woman i am.” we laugh, but it does nothing to lighten the weight in my chest. 

“ah. maybe haechan will save me some leftovers,” i say, but now doubt he will. 

“okay, well, i’m glad your mom’s reaching out.” she says, and i can tell she means it. sucks knowing it’s not even true.

mama lee continues, “it’s getting late for me. i gotta sleep, but i wanna hear more from you soon, okay? you owe me.” her sweet voice pierced my heart, and i feel myself hiccupping again.

“yes, ma’am,” i manage to get out, and we say our good night’s and i love you’s.

then my screen goes back to those cursed text messages and i delete our entire chat.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“he said what?” jaehyun’s eyes are as wide as i’ve ever seen them, fork suspended mid air. the egg falls from it, and comically splats onto the plate. 

we’re at the same cafe i often frequent with haechan, but because i’m here with jaehyun, we’re eating at an ungodly early hour of the day. i had never seen this place at this time, but jaehyun is an extreme morning bird. 

“i literally got uninvited from his family’s christmas party and i had to hear it from his mom.” i confess, surprised at how composed i sounded despite it being the most devastating news of my life. shockingly worse than finding out my parents were getting divorced back in high school. i saw it coming, but this? never in a million years.

“but you… you’ve always gone. his family is literally yours.” jaehyun’s confusion takes over his mouth, and i don’t think he realizes how much his obvious statement stung.

“i bought his siblings their gifts already too. i never thought i wouldn’t get the chance to exchange them?” i swirl the lukewarm coffee mug in my hands, not having the stomach to take a sip.

“this is fucked up. has he talked to you about it yet?” 

“nope,” i pop my lips. “what makes you think he even has the time to?” i sneer, referring to a certain woman occupying all his time. i feel disgusting having these ill feelings towards her, despite her literally not being at fault. 

jaehyun grimaces, and he instinctively gives my arm a squeeze. “doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole. he should’ve told you. but also, he shouldn’t have uninvited you in the first place? you’ve never not gone.”

i shrug, “maybe it was wrong of me to assume…”

“when you’ve gone every year since i’ve known you? you’ve gone more times than me and haechan and i are childhood neighbors. come on…” jaehyun plants the hard facts i’m unwilling to face, and i squirm in my seat. i take a sip of my coffee and feel it run down the sides of the knot in my throat, sickeningly bitter. 

“it’s whatever. anyways, since you’re going home, do you mind giving his siblings their gifts for me? minjeong invited me to her home for the holidays instead.”

“sure, but-“

“oh hey, guys?”

jaehyun and i look up from our table, stunned to hear the voice of our drama calling us. 

“haechan,” i only say, feeling awkward that we were just talking about him but also weird that this is the first i’ve seen him in weeks. 

he’s carrying a takeout bag in his hand, dressed in clothes he definitely picked up off the floor. i could see the side of his head where his pillow messed up his brown, fluffy hair and the bags under his eyes that always signal late night gaming. he’s wearing a confused look on his face as he scans jaehyun and i.

we’re sitting in our designated booth and before i could let myself feel like i’m cheating on him, the sour reminder of our conversation takes over.

“take out?” jaehyun wonders.

haechan clears his throat, shaking him out of the weird daze he was in. “yeah, lu is waiting at home.”

at home. the air leaves my lungs just hearing that come out of him, and i realize that this is a feeling i really need to dissect. this cannot be just platonic jealousy, right? losing my best friend these past few months isn’t supposed to hurt this bad.

“got plans for next month? when are you heading home?” jaehyun goes straight for the kill, and i kick the side of his foot to stop him from prying. i don’t know if i want to hear his answers.

haechan’s eyes widen and he immediately looks at me. his hands tighten around the white plastic takeout bag. i can see his mind struggle to tell me something and the pained look on his face makes me want to save him the trouble. he begins to start and i just can’t bear it.

“minjeong’s taking me to hers this christmas,” i cut him off, filling him in on my newfound plans, that i really didn’t have a choice in making if i wanted to not spend the holidays alone. it hurts seeing the way his body relaxes, i can visibly see him fill with the relief of knowing i’m not going. my eyes naturally water, and i quickly dab them away. 

“can you let your mom know i can’t come this year? i don’t know if i could tell her myself,” i shrug, mustering a close lipped smile. i can feel jaehyun’s disappointing glare burn into my face, or maybe it’s the sharp sting of his hand that just punched my thigh under the table. 

“oh. oh! yeah, yeah, of course,” haechan forces sadness onto his facial features. “sorry to hear you can’t go, but holidays at minjeong’s sounds fun! we’ll miss you,” he starts to fidget with the bag now and his feet shift. he scratches the back of his left ear, a tell-tale sign that he’s uncomfortable… or feeling guilty.

“ah, but you always go to the lee holiday party?” jaehyun turns towards me, boldness flashing in his eyes as he dares me to address it. 

“next time!” haechan quickly interjects. “don’t worry about it!”

“i’m not.” i state, point blank, and a new expression paints his face that i can’t decipher.

“we-well, lulu’s probably starving by now, so. i’ll see you guys later?” haechan rambles out, already taking steps away from us.

“maybe,” i shrug, feeling the iciness take over my body and make its way into my words. 

“right,” haechan nods, stumbling as he leaves the cafe. i don’t bother watching him leave, starting to stab my food aggressively with my fork. 

“i can’t believe he just did that,” jaehyun says in disbelief, but i’m so consumed with rage i can barely hear him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

i get voicemails from haechan’s siblings on the morning of christmas, thanking me for the gifts, wondering why i’m not there, and most importantly, asking me who this lulu is and why she’s taken my spot. i make a mental note to call them back when i’m not downing mugs of minjeong’s dad’s strangely strong eggnog.

somehow the classical christmas music that had been playing on loop for the past two hours in minjeong’s living room had shifted to karaoke, and i can feel the alcohol hitting everyone all at once. the matching pajamas that her family forced me to wear started to feel too warm on my skin like it didn’t belong on me. i sat and watched her drunk uncle sing to a random Justin Bieber song and i catch myself thinking singing must not run in their family the way it does for haechan’s.

i itch to call him, but i know i shouldn’t. but the guilt of not even wishing him a merry christmas eats me up despite him having yet to do the same. i avoided mentioning him all day because i knew minjeong would say something, but now that she’s too preoccupied with her solo, i slip into her childhood room. 

it feels like i’m walking on a moving boat as i cross her room to crash onto her bed. her popcorn ceiling spins in my vision and i groan at how out of body i feel. 

my thumb is already clicking his contact before i could register it and my phone blinks, indicating he’s picked up.

“hello?” i hear him faintly on the other side, chatter quieting in the background. i put him on speaker and i hear him shut a door. the party sounds on his side are now muffled.

“hi haechan. merry christmas,” i don’t notice how sweet my voice sounds till a second later and my whole body cringes.  

i hear him sigh, and i turn to my side, cradling my phone. “merry christmas.”

“how’sss… the party?” i ask, just trying to keep him on the line for as long as possible. 

“crazy per usual. the kids say thank you for the gifts, i made sure they called you too. did you get them?” his voice is so clear and sober, i feel like a groggy mess talking to him. i want him to sound as messy as me. his words sting like ice with how composed he sounds. 

“mhmmm,” i hum. “i’m glad, so so so glad.” i play with the frays of minjeong’s blanket between my fingers, starting to sing my words. 

“sounds like you’re having fun,” haechan laughs under his breath. “we miss you here.”

that statement alone felt like an ice cold bucket of water dunked over my head. my vision suddenly cleared, the room stilled, and i felt like i could hear even a pin drop. how could he say that when he fought so hard to isolate me like this?

“is that so?” i test him. 

“yeah, of course,” haechan starts. “you know it’s not the same without you.” i hear his bed creak and i know he’s sitting on the left corner where one of his bed slats has cracked. haechan used to volunteer to sleep on that side on the holiday weekends when i was over. he’d start on that side and in the middle of the night, i’d hear it creak as he rolled over to cuddle me. he’d apologize every time in the morning despite it never being an issue for me. 

thinking of that memory being lost and forgotten hurt more than the fact that it could be replaced by another person right now. 

i sit up, ignoring the spinning of my head. “is that what you told your mom?” my voice sounded sterner than i thought it could at this level of toxicity. 

he’s silent on his end. i give him a couple seconds to see if he’d confess. 

“you know she actually called me a month ago. said you told her i wasn’t coming.” i continued. he’s still quiet and it’s so pathetic.

“i had to lie to her, haechan,” i hiccup, tasting salt in my mouth that wasn’t there before. “i told her that my mom reached out to me which was probably such a bad lie since we both know she’d never do that.” 

haechan hissed, and it’s like i can see him in his childhood room, trying to rub the stress out from the creases between  his eyes. 

“i had to lie and say that, instead of the truth. the truth being that my best friend doesn’t want me at his family party, in his life even, and he didn’t have the fucking guts to tell me.” i spit out these words like venom, and i can hear them hitting him through the phone, not knowing if they’re doing the damage i want them to.

“look, i… i didn’t know what to do. please, just-“ suddenly i feel the balance shift, and i can feel how small he sounds on the other end. hiding in his room like a coward.

“your mom texted me pictures, said she wishes i was there. it hurt so bad, haechan,” i start crying and i thank god that the karaoke is still blasting because i can’t control how loud my sobs are. “it hurt so bad seeing you two laughing and looking happy in those pictures.”

i didn’t have to specify who; he knows. i know he knows with the way he falls silent. i almost think he hung up.

“i’m sorry,” is all he can say. it could’ve been a fly buzzing by my ear with how insignificant his lackluster apology sounded right now.

“i thought it would be me,” i confess, surprising him and myself. and it feels better than i expected, or maybe it’s the alcohol suppressing my anxieties. i wonder how good it must feel to be lulu, knowing that the boy that i love is now in love with her. 

“i know,” he says. i hang up so fast, tossing my phone away, because i almost think i hallucinate him saying “me too.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

when the plane landed, i had 4 missed calls from haechan, 2 from his mom, and 1 from his sister. i didn’t end up telling minjeong what transpired because she was already so upset leaving her family the following morning; her eyes were all puffy. a day has passed and i still haven’t said anything, not sure if it’s because i’m over it or if it’s out of embarrassment. 

it wasn’t till later today where i was forced to confront what happened when jaehyun calls, desperately asking to be picked up from the airport. 

“i don’t see you, are you sure you’re at terminal 1? i’m literally at the end of it.” i practically scream through the call connected to my old 2008 lexus. 

“what? no, terminal 2. we’re at terminal 2,” jaehyun repeats, just as loudly.

“wait. we?” i ask, before spotting the two boys with their luggages at the curb of terminal 2, and a girl beside them.

i pull in, trying my best not to stare, cursing under my breath and hoping whatever bad karma i’ve collected throughout my twenty plus years of life gets passed onto jaehyun for omitting this important detail. i put the car in park and hop out to open the trunk. 

“you owe me,” i say at the exact same time as jaehyun’s, “i owe you.” 

he puts his luggage in and picks me up into a spinning hug. i smack his solid shoulder, not falling for his buttering tactics. 

“you smell like the plane,” i scowl. jaehyun just laughs and taps the trunk of my car, still open and waiting for the others standing awkwardly to the side. 

“haechan, you okay? you know we’ve landed, right?” he jokes in response to his friend’s stillness.

i don’t even bother giving haechan a glance despite feeling his eyes try their best to make contact with mine. i simply get back into the driver’s seat, waiting for them to finish loading the car. 

eventually, i hear the passenger door open and i turn, ready to talk to jaehyun, but it’s not him. 

“why are you—“ 

“feeling sick from the plane, i don’t think i can sit in the back.” haechan says, matter of factly. 

i narrow my eyes at him, shocked at the way i can look at him now and ignore the sound of my heart breaking.

his brown hair has gotten longer, it curls around the nape of his neck. its messy all on top like he’s ran his hands through it multiple times. the wind from outside makes it flop everywhere. on top of that, his eyes are tired and his cheeks i liked to pinch so much sag a little. 

his lips are rolled in and chapped as he waits for me to challenge him and i don’t have the energy to. so i just redirect my attention to the two in the back.

“lulu, am i dropping you off with haechan?” she’s sitting neatly in my car and we both can feel how weird this is.

“ummm, my house is fine, if it’s not too out of the way,” she smiles at me. “thanks for picking us up.”

i decide not to shoot haechan a questioning look and i just let her punch in her address. 

during the whole twenty minute ride, i’m asking jaehyun as many questions as possible, sounding like someone really invested in his christmas plans. i eventually got a detailed breakdown of his entire weekend itinerary. haechan wasn’t able to get a single word in, but it also didn’t seem like he wanted to — which was odd for him. 

i dropped lulu off and i begin mapping to haechan’s, when he stops me. 

“jaehyun’s closer.” 

“no i’m not.” “no he’s not.” jaehyun and i say simultaneously. 

“yes, he is,” haechan says sternly, already having the GPS set. 

i don’t have the energy to fight him so i drive to jaehyun’s, not needing the directions. i can see him twiddling his thumbs in the back and i make glances through the rearview mirror. he just shrugs and i chew my lip nervously. 

“thanks again for the ride. breakfast on me tomorrow?” jaehyun offers once we reach his place, head sticking through my driver side window, duffel strapped onto his shoulder. 

haechan’s head pokes out from my peripheral, “she’s got plans.” 

my eyebrows shoot up at the same time jaehyun’s eyes go wide. he simply nods and gives me a shoulder squeeze good bye. 

i pull out of his apartment complex, and start heading towards haechan’s, praying the silence isn’t disturbed during this short five minute drive. 

“i can’t believe you got my brother that new ps5 game,” haechan starts. “mom’s already using it as leverage to get his grades up.”

i simply hum in response, not letting my eyes drift off the road. 

“she really liked the necklace you got her. she practically screamed when she opened the box.” i can’t see it, but i can feel him smiling fondly. his family’s happiness always meant the most to him.

i can’t help the warm relief i feel in my chest knowing his mom liked my gift. unfortunately, my thoughts turn sour as i wonder if she liked it more than the gift lulu got her. my hands grip the wheel tighter.

“she grilled me pretty bad this morning… i told her the truth.” now it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the car.

“and what is ‘the truth’?” i manage to say. 

he goes quiet again and i see his apartment up ahead. i pull over and park the car, not caring how far we actually were, and turned the engine off. the car is still humming as it settles down, and i take my seatbelt off, hoping it’ll take the weird weight off my chest. 

“what’d you tell her, haechan?” 

he sat still and didn’t move a muscle. i can see his brain churning as he refuses to look at me now. but i’m staring at him dead on, unrelenting. 

“i told her that i didn’t want you there.”

wow. 

i blinked. and i blinked. and i blinked, hoping my eyes would deceive me into seeing some sort of sign that he was lying. a flinch. an ear scratch. anything.

i open my mouth to say something (im not sure what) and i hope he beats me to it, ready to deny his claim, but he doesn’t. 

after all these years in each other’s lives, this is how he truly feels? a huge chunk of me wants to convince myself he must be lying, but how could i when he’s saying it straight to my face like this. so many questions run through my head and each one left unanswered feels like another stab to the chest.

when did he start feeling this way? was our friendship just a charity for him? were my feelings for him never reciprocated in the slightest? was it all a lie?

“and… and that’s your truth?” i whisper, but it felt like a desperate cry, begging him to say no. 

“yes. and what’s even more true is that i broke your heart.” 

he peaks at me, between the cracks of his fingers that are now cradling his face. i can tell he’s not being fully honest about what’s going on between us, and i’m not sure if he can right now, but he wasn’t wrong about what he said about the state of my heart. 

“hm. ‘tis the season.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

while shutting my laptop screen, i say bye to my coworkers as we leave the conference room. despite usually getting winter break off, my boss had called in an emergency meeting to settle things before people start truly ignoring their work emails. my coworkers had every right to complain about coming in on a saturday during the holidays while they badged into the building, but i didn’t mind. no meeting could be worse than the week i’ve had. 

i was last to leave the floor since i had a couple things at my desk to grab. getting onto the elevator alone, i watched the numbers descend until it halted at the 21st floor. i awkwardly side stepped to make room for the oncoming person as the doors parted. 

“oh.” i could only gape because right in front of me was lulu.

“oh!” she returned, before giving me a wave and getting in. “they got you working the holidays too?”

i try to look at her from my peripheral, but it feels too awkward. like any movement on my part would be weird. 

“not really, my boss just stresses and so she called a quick meeting.” i roll my lips in, teetering on the balls of my feet. could this elevator be any slower?

“oh wow. mine doesn’t believe in holiday breaks, hence why i’m here. i didn’t know you worked in this building.” she eyes my laptop, looking for a company name.

“it was my first job out of college, but they had me working remote for my first year.” i explain.

“oh, that makes sense. i feel like i’m always here and yet i only saw you for the first time with hae-” lulu cuts herself off, and clears her throat.

my face grows hot, immediately thinking that she must’ve heard from him about my drunk christmas breakdown. i’d be furious if i weren’t so embarrassed right now. i turn to finally look at her, in an attempt to take control of this situation. 

“too many floors, lots of people,” i smile half-heartedly, giving her a shrug. finally, the elevator stops at the lobby and i let out a breath that i don’t mean to.

“anyways, happy holidays! maybe i’ll see you at johnny’s,” i wave my white flag, coming to terms with this being my reality if her and haechan continue dating. i'm done fighting it.

lulu doesn’t get off the elevator, and she tilts her head, puzzlement painting her face. she shakes it off quickly and just nods, reaching her hand out to keep the door from shutting on her.

i hurry out the building, muttering curses under my breath because of course, not only did i have to run into lulu, but i forgot my coat at my desk as well. wrapping my cardigan tighter around my body, i trudge through the city streets to get to my car because of course, our parking garage is closed.

i hear someone calling my name behind me, and i turn around to see lulu chasing after me. her cheeks look pink like they were whipped by the recent cold winds. and yes, she looks perfect.

“i wanted- i wanted to clarify something.” she catches her breath, holding onto my shoulder. i try not to knock it off like a bitch, so i glare at her hand, waiting for her to get a hint. but she doesn’t, or pretends she doesn't, as she continues.

“we broke up,” she starts. “and yeah, it has to do with us as individuals, but it was mainly… it was mainly to do with you.” 

while rooted in shock, i search her to face to find any ounce of rage or bitterness towards me. my guards are up looking for a sign that she was going to slap me across the face, but i sensed nothing. i’m about to ask her why when she starts again.

“he hurt me pretty bad, but i should’ve seen it coming. i’m not you,” she shrugs, as if she’s already come to terms with her feelings. she says it as if it was a true and proven fact. but none of what she said makes sense to me. also, i know we’re not talking, but why didn’t he tell me? why didn’t he tell any of us?

“i don’t understand…” i say.

“i’ve said too much. you don’t need to understand right now, just promise you’ll hear him out. i know you don’t think you owe me anything, but you technically cost me my boyfriend so… do me this favor.”

before i could agree to anything, she finally lets go of my shoulder and laughs with relief. she tosses her hair over her shoulder and takes a breath, recollecting herself. she never looked like she was in shambles – as she is portraying – to begin with. 

“that felt good. anyway, happy holidays to you too.” and lulu walked away. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

johnny’s new year’s extravaganza is on full blast — the biggest turn out he’s ever had. a lot of people ditched their work parties and their family events to gather in his house for a better time. it was so busy that there was barely any open space and he ran out of ice.

before he could instacart some with his drunk trembling fingers, i’m taking the phone from him.

“i’ll get it!” i yelled over the DJ — the DJ is him. “i didn’t drink, i’ll go pick some up!” 

he takes one side of his headphones off, tilting his head asking, are you sure? but the puppy dog look in his eyes shows how much he prefers this over those hiked up delivery fees.

i give him his phone back and tell him i’ll be back in a few. on my way out, i catch a stumbling minjeong and she says she’s gonna stay the night. 

right before i reach the door, jaehyun and our friends come down the stairs, smoke wafting around them. my eyes automatically count the number of them and of course, i notice one missing.

“hey where’s-“ i stop myself, rolling my lips in. unfortunately, they’re not high enough to mishear me or maybe it’s expected of me to want to know his whereabouts. maybe it’s obvious to everyone how i feel about him. what do i know?

“he never showed up,” mark says. “guess he’s not feeling well? did johnny get new floors?” 

mark cautiously steps around like the floor is made of fragile glass and i grab onto his arm, afraid he’s going to fall. he starts giggling like crazy and it’s so cute. 

jaehyun quickly steps in and catches mark’s weight before it crushes me. i give him a thanks and tell him i’m going to get ice. 

“you sure? it’s so late. fuck johnny, we can drink lukewarm drinks.”

i shake my head, “i think i need the air anyways.”

he offers me his car after checking that i’m sober, but i turn him down, already making my way out.

the air is lightly crisp and chilly, no clouds in the sky. it’s the perfect new year weather for fireworks. i’m already two blocks down and there’s still people from his party scattered on the streets. 

while deep in my thoughts about a certain missing someone, i realize i missed the turn to the gas station and am now walking home. as suffocating as it was in that packed house, it felt worse choking on my persistent thoughts in the middle of the night. 

i can feel the deepening crack in my heart that only made this new loneliness of the holiday more apparent. i just finished sending johnny an apology text and i start digging in my purse for my keys. 

the steps to my apartment complex’s front door is occupied by a pair of shoes, connected to a pair of legs, holding up a tired looking haechan. my toes meet his in my haggard search to find my keys and i almost fall back in surprise. he quickly stands to catch my wrist and i’m yanked into his chest, keys falling to the ground.

“what are you- what are you doing here?” i twist my arm out of his grip and take a step back onto flat ground. a small part of me (a big one) fills with relief knowing he was here the whole time and is okay and i feel betrayed by that side of me. 

he looks at me incredulously like he’s not the one camped outside my house. then he looks around to see if anyone is with me, growing concerned.

“what the hell are you doing walking home alone at this time? those assholes couldn’t take you?” standing two steps above me, haechan lectures me like a parent and i’m in no position to be scolded. like a child, the irritation easily blooms in my chest.

“stop acting like you care. it’s pissing me off.” i groan, suddenly feeling all the tiredness from the day in my bones. “you made it clear how you feel about me so just… stop.” you’re confusing me, i think.

i stand here challenging him, quirking an eyebrow waiting for him to move. 

he grabs my lanyard off the ground instead.

“look i…can i?” he gestures to the door, wanting to go inside, looking defeated. his shoulders have fallen from their tense position and haechan just looks so worn out. with how disheveled his appearance is, it looks like he had been waiting outside for hours.

“i… don’t know if that’s a good idea.” i bite my lip, trying to fight the annoying guilt i feel like i’m leaving a stray puppy out in the cold. but i knew that if i let him into my circle again, i’d just end up even more hurt. 

haechan just nods, handing me my keys back. “if you want the whole neighborhood to know how badly i fucked up and how awfully sorry i am, i don’t mind doing this outside.” 

“doing what exactly?” i ask, crossing my arms in front of me. for someone standing so tall above me, he now looked so vulnerable from where i stood below him. 

“apologizing.” haechan states, taking a step down. “confessing.” another step down. perfectly level.

my lips are holding back so many questions, so many exclamations. he can see it in my eyes how quickly my mind runs and how hard i’m trying to not blurt all my thoughts out. i want him to continue, he needs to.

“lulu and i broke up, first of all. that awkward airport car ride was not just awkward because of… us.” he laughs, reliving the scene. i can hear lulu’s words repeating in my head, but i refuse to make sense of them right now. 

“i think… i realize… i was just playing house with her. forcing myself to keep this seemingly easy girlfriend because… because the one i truly wanted scared me so badly.” haechan looks at me with his soft, round brown eyes, making it so obvious who he was referring to. it made me hopeful enough to ask. 

“i scare you?” i say quietly, still so confused and processing the millions of emotions coarsing through my chest. you want me?

“you terrify me.” 

“i don’t un-“

“the way you love me terrifies me. the thought of losing you terrifies me. the way i feel for you terrifies me. the thought of not being enough for you terrifies me!” as he lists, his voice gets louder and i have to grip his forearm to get him to quiet down. 

“haechan…”

“no, i’ve spent years with this fear, fighting my fucking feelings for you just to feel safe. but this… what i’ve done? it feels a million times worse than whatever this stupid fear may manifest. and i should’ve known from all those romcoms you make me watch where the male lead makes the same fucking mistake!” his eyes are ground in by the palms of his hands, pushing back on the tension i can see brewing in his head. 

“i messed up so bad thinking i was doing both of us a favor. but i hurt you more than i ever thought i could. i’m an asshole.” he cries, sniffling hard. with his hands now at his sides, fists clenched, i can clearly see the tears he tried so hard to hold back. 

“i’m sorry… but i love you.” haechan confesses with a pained smile on his tear-stained face, shrugging like it’s truly something to be apologizing for. 

it makes my heart spur with something along the lines of anger, but not quite.

“you’re an idiot for thinking you should ever be sorry for that.” 

i finally speak up. “you’re so stupid!” i shove him, feeling my bag fall off my shoulder.

“you’re so, so stupid!” i punch at his chest, bag smacking onto the floor. 

“i know, i know i-“ he stammers.

“no! you don’t know! how could you decide all of this for us? that not having me in your life would be easier than taking a chance on-on losing me? or loving me?! do you understand how selfish you sound? how selfish you’ve been?” i’m enraged. my fingers are curled around the fabric of the bottom of his shirt because i still can’t quite reach his collar. i’m desperate for him to genuinely hear me for what feels like the first time in months. 

his jaw is locked, eyes watery to match mine, as he files through what he could say in response. 

“what’s even shittier is that you knew this whole time how much i loved you,” my voice cracks, a hiccup escaping my mouth. 

“loved?” he asks, sounding wounded by the past tense. and it drives me nuts that that’s what he latched onto. 

“love, you idiot,” i clarify without hesitation. “i love you so much…”

and despite how clear that confession was, haechan searches my eyes like he’s looking for more to be said. like he can easily palpate the true feelings i’ve been holding back, begging me to continue. 

“…enough to maybe overlook this.” i let go, knowing i can’t hold back any longer. 

haechan’s face shifts almost instantly, not shying away from laughing out of pure relief. “oh my god,” he gasps, taking my hands from his shirt and weaving them with his own to clutch tight to his chest. “thank god.” 

i can feel his heart racing between our hands intertwined. it feels like the same one drumming in my chest. i look at his face against the night sky and it feels both strange and comforting that he’s so freely staring at me with that lovesick look in his eyes. they sparkle like they’re mimicking the stars above him. 

“have i told you i’m sorry? i need you to know i’m sorry and that i’m going to fix everything. i promise.” he kisses my knuckles lightly, scared to push it. 

before i can respond, we both faintly hear the muffled yells of the neighborhood counting in sync. 

5!

our eyes widen simultaneously, suddenly realizing where we were and what time it was. we start laughing as the bubble around us pops.

4!

haechan shakes his head at the timing of it all, eyes bright and sparkly at the prospects. he already looks so much lighter and he looks at me like i’m a new beginning.

3!

despite all the anger i had felt for him, my body knows better and my arms make their way around his neck, lifting me up a little higher to meet his face. 

2!

his mouth parts, head cocked slightly to the side as if to ask if this was truly okay. i shyly nod and he instantly brings his hands to my waist to pull me impossibly closer. i laugh at his eagerness and i can feel the joy rumbling in his chest against mine. 

1! 

… happy new year!

a startling crack erupts above us, sending a flurry of colors into the sky. i tilt my chin to look up, but he takes this new angle to capture my lips with his instead. the new and exciting feeling of his mouth against mine sends a surge of electricity coursing through my body at a rate that matches the fireworks above. his fingers curve into my hips as if i could disappear at any moment and i cradle the nape of his neck to let him know i’m still here. 

we hear hooting and hollering, poppers going off, and champagne bottles bursting open. it feels like the whole world is celebrating us, as ridiculous as it sounds. 

my body is consumed with how much i just love kissing haechan; i can’t help the smile that makes its way onto my face, and our teeth awkwardly clink. he laughs under his breath, letting me know he feels the same, and it feels good to just rejoice in this mutual buzz. he gives me a peck on the lips, then another on my cheek, and another on my forehead. he goes for the other cheek but i meet him with my lips instead. 

“hey,” i get his attention.

his eyebrows perk and he gives me a sly look, “heyyy…”

i scoff, but it doesn’t match the giddy smile on my face. “no, dumbass. hey, don’t think this one kiss solves everything, okay?” i take him by his shoulders to put some distance between us so he knows i mean business.

“so like… 500 more kisses will do the trick or…?” he starts leaning in and i shove my hand over his mouth.

“haechan!” 

“okay, okay! i’m joking! trust,” he tears my palm off his face. “my mom already warned me that it’d take way more than this to win you back.” 

“she said that?” i snicker. 

“i told you she ripped me a new one. she didn’t need to, i knew how badly i fucked up. but she loves you almosttt as much as i do, so i don’t blame her.” he smiles, looking at me in a way i had only imagined in my dreams. 

“and you’re not… scared anymore?” 

“i am.” he says confidently, but there’s no doubt riddled on his face. “but i want this more than whatever insecurities i may have. i want you way more.” 

haechan rests his head onto mine, taking in a deep breath, “so will you have me?”

i pretend to think about it to tease him and he pokes at my side. “forgiving a cute brunette boy was actually one of my new years’ resolutions so yeah.”

“oh how gracious of you,” he jokes, hand over his heart, shaken by my generosity. “can we kiss again?”

“that’s actually another one of my-“

“oh shut up.” and i do. or really, he shuts me up.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him. 

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric. 

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head. 

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms. 

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out. 

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door. 

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore. 

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts. 

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen. 

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs. 

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet. 

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks. 

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad. 

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on. 

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief. 

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle. 

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen. 

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone. 

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.” 

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape. 

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman. 

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince. 

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged. 

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why. 

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no. 

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist. 

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place. 

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.” 

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing. 

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer. 

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him. 

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs. 

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?” 

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?” 

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder. 

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself. 

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible. 

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century. 

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.” 

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh. 

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week. 

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself. 

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face. 

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring. 

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come. 

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears. 

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand. 

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment. 

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!” 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to. 

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her. 

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold. 

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands. 

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking. 

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks. 

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation. 

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck. 

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly. 

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one. 

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter. 

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind. 

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters. 

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills. 

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain. 

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us. 

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears. 

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger. 

“Don’t blame him.” 

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words. 

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration. 

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place. 

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks. 

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow. 

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too. 

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer. 

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning. 

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers. 

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more. 

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted. 

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…” 

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me. 

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me. 

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter. 

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen. 

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look. 

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room. 

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt. 

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek. 

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent. 

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too. 

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush. 

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again. 

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here. 

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door. 

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors. 

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands. 

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?” 

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward. 

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop. 

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans. 

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing. 

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming. 

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts. 

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation. 

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.” 

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance 

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner. 

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us. 

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him. 

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.” 

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues, 

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer. 

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him. 

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric. 

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head. 

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms. 

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out. 

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door. 

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore. 

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts. 

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen. 

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs. 

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet. 

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks. 

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad. 

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on. 

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief. 

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle. 

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen. 

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone. 

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.” 

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape. 

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman. 

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince. 

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged. 

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why. 

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no. 

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist. 

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place. 

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.” 

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing. 

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer. 

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him. 

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs. 

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?” 

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?” 

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder. 

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself. 

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible. 

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century. 

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.” 

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh. 

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week. 

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself. 

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face. 

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring. 

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come. 

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears. 

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand. 

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment. 

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!” 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to. 

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her. 

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold. 

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands. 

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking. 

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks. 

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation. 

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck. 

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly. 

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one. 

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter. 

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind. 

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters. 

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills. 

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain. 

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us. 

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears. 

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger. 

“Don’t blame him.” 

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words. 

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration. 

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place. 

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks. 

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow. 

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too. 

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer. 

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning. 

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers. 

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more. 

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted. 

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…” 

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me. 

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me. 

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter. 

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen. 

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look. 

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room. 

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt. 

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek. 

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent. 

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too. 

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush. 

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again. 

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here. 

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door. 

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors. 

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands. 

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?” 

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward. 

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop. 

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans. 

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing. 

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming. 

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts. 

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation. 

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.” 

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance 

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner. 

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us. 

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him. 

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.” 

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues, 

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer. 

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him. 

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric. 

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head. 

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms. 

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out. 

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door. 

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore. 

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts. 

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen. 

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs. 

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet. 

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks. 

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad. 

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on. 

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief. 

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle. 

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen. 

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone. 

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.” 

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape. 

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman. 

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince. 

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged. 

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why. 

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no. 

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist. 

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place. 

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.” 

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing. 

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer. 

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him. 

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs. 

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?” 

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?” 

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder. 

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself. 

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible. 

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century. 

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.” 

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh. 

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week. 

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself. 

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face. 

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring. 

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come. 

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears. 

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand. 

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment. 

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!” 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to. 

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her. 

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold. 

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands. 

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking. 

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks. 

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation. 

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck. 

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly. 

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one. 

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter. 

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind. 

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters. 

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills. 

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain. 

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us. 

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears. 

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger. 

“Don’t blame him.” 

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words. 

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration. 

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place. 

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks. 

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow. 

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too. 

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer. 

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning. 

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers. 

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more. 

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted. 

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…” 

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me. 

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me. 

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter. 

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen. 

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look. 

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room. 

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt. 

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek. 

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent. 

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too. 

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush. 

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again. 

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here. 

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door. 

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors. 

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands. 

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?” 

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward. 

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop. 

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans. 

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing. 

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming. 

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts. 

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation. 

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.” 

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance 

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner. 

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us. 

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him. 

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.” 

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues, 

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer. 

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wiped the crumbs off your hands onto your jeans, and maybe some nervous sweat too.

“No. I mean. He likes Jenn.” You stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, trying hard to make it seem like that fact didn’t bother you. You automatically looked down and start picking at the crumbs.

Jaemin hummed, “I asked if you like him. Not who he likes. I know who he likes.” 

The last statement felt like a stab in the chest, because, of course, you do too. Mark likes your roommate, your friend since high school. That was the only reason you were sitting at this table, the only reason you were able to have this conversation with one of his best friends. If he didn’t reach out to you during your Anatomy class together about helping him get with your friend, you wouldn’t even be here in this situation right now. At first, you were honestly offended by his request. However, after seeing the charm he very much lacked, you understood why he was desperate. It was a pitiful acceptance, but you wish you never agreed. Being reminded of your purpose in his life always tore you apart because Jaemin’s assumption is right; you do like Mark. 

Maybe that slight bitterness in your heart is what pushed you to confess to Jaemin, one of Mark’s friends and not the man himself. You took another quick glance at Mark to see him fumbling with his change at the vending machine to get you a drink. You couldn’t help but smile fondly at him and quickly realize how screwed you are. Jaemin followed your eyes and smiled to himself knowing he was right. It wasn’t difficult to figure out. The only person that didn’t know was Mark, and maybe Jenn.

You sighed and turned back to him, a month of feelings bursting at your lips.

“Okay, fine. I like Mark. But I swear to you, I’m not going to do anything. It literally doesn’t matter. He likes Jenn and I’m helping him pursue Jenn. I know I’m an idiot for getting my feelings tangled up in all of this, but I really care for Mark, so I’m not gonna let something as stupid as this get in the way of that. I’m gonna keep helping him and if I get to continue being his friend after they get together, great! But if our relation-friendship ends there, then that’s also fine. It-“ You hesitated, looking at the pity and confusion on Jaemin’s face. “It’s completely fine,” You said quieter, the weight of your ramble finally hitting you. You didn’t realize how pathetic this whole situation was till your thoughts left your head and were actually voiced. 

Jaemin made a sound of disapproval, getting ready to speak before a can of Milkis was placed in front of your plate.

“What’d I miss?” Mark asked, swiftly sliding his body onto the bench. “I cleaned the top already,” He says, tapping your drink.

You smiled with gratitude, before quickly snapping back into wing woman mode. Like it was second nature.

“Jenn wants to catch a movie this weekend, wanna come? Maybe bring Jeno or Jaemin,” your eyes flickered to the man that just watched you word-vomit your inner thoughts. “So it’s less sus, you know?” 

Mark’s eyes lit up immediately, the smile on his face lifting his cheekbones to match the pure joy in his eyes. The green in you only faltered your smile slightly. When has he ever smiled like that for me?, you thought.

“Jaem, what do you say? Wanna come?” Mark asked.

Jaemin looked at you as you avoided his eyes. He took a big bite of his food before saying, “I’d rather not.” 

Mark instantly pouted and slapped Jaemin’s arms multiple times, whining that it’d be fun. Jaemin continued taking bites of his food, unfazed by Mark’s slaps and silently refusing. You giggled at the sight, but something in your stomach felt uneasy now that Jaemin knows. 

Everyone continued finishing up their meals and Mark asked you about this weekend and what movies Jenn likes. You took a sip of your drink and let the carbonation burn your throat. Hopefully, your abrupt confession helps you in this predicament. Having at least one person know would be good, right?

You peered up at Jaemin and his eyes were trained strictly on you, sending goosebumps down your arms. 

Maybe not.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A month has passed since your confession to Jaemin and two and a half months have passed since Operation Jump Jenn began — name courtesy of Haechan, objectively not his best work but you got outvoted. Ever since you started hanging out with Mark and helping out with his love life situation, your friend groups began to merge and you all grew extremely close. It feels like you're known the boys since birth, despite meeting only this year. Due to this and because everyone is all in on Operation Jump Jenn, a camping trip was planned together — more like “glamping” because tents were swapped for a nice cabin. The goal was to get Mark and Jenn some alone time whether it be on a hike or by the campfire. Haechan said they should go as far as making them share a bed, but he quickly earned a smack in the head from Renjun. 

The crew had just arrived at the cabin this morning and scurried into the rooms they self-assigned, or should you say argued over, in the car ride up. You obviously got put with Jenn and your friend, Sumin, while the boys fought over who could sleep with Renjun. Surprisingly, Jeno came out victorious.

“Okay, I’m done! I’m gonna go help the boys figure out groceries,” Jenn got up and brushed the dust off her pants.

“Oh, you’ll need backup,” Sumin laughed and trailed after her, leaving you alone in your shared room.

You took your time unpacking just because driving partially took a lot out of you. The bed was looking extra nap-able. Your body soreness also probably came from craning your neck so much to look at Mark and Jenn in the backseat. It was torturous, but you couldn’t look away. It was like self-sabotage.

A light knock on the door caught your attention and you told the person to come in. It was Mark.

Not even trying to hide the immediate smile on your face, you got up off the floor. 

“Hey, did you unpack already?”

“Haechan owes me for something, so I made him do it for me.” He sighs happily before plopping onto the bed, basking in his zero responsibilities.

You scoffed and smacked his thigh, “You’re wearing your outside clothes!” You log rolled him over to his side but he quickly positioned himself back.

“All we did was drive,” he whined. “I think our clothes should be relatively clean.” He patted the empty spot next to him. You obviously obliged.

You leaned over to him and jokingly sniffed, “Yeah, but you smell a little.”

Mark mocked offense and grabbed you by the shoulders to pull you into a tight hug, laughing evilly at your cries.

“Then get a gooood smell,” He trapped you in, shaking you around. You pretended to cough on his odor and he gasped. Mark pulled back to look at your face and you were already laughing. 

He gave a light flick to your forehead, “Jerk.”

You simply smiled, shoving him away from you before the butterflies in your stomach could get even worse. You had to take a deep breath just to calm down and remind yourself of your place. 

“When we have to grocery shop later, you should volunteer with Jenn. She’s already making the list so I’m sure she’ll wanna take over the shopping part as well.” With your eyes trained on the ceiling, the advice just flowed naturally out of you like always. You laid there expecting him to jump up at the idea. 

Mark propped his head up with his elbow and looked at you from the side, “I’m kinda tired.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re stupid. You gotta take every opportunity you can get. Jenn’s a little tough to break through and get to know. She’s shy, remember?” You poked his nose and he scrunched at you.

“True,” he pouted. Mark reached over to grab a strand that came loose from your bun after he practically strangled you. He gently brushed it aside and you felt your whole body freeze. Two attacks in one day? Your poor heart.

You cleared your throat and shot up. You grabbed his hand and yanked him with you, to which he instantly groaned. 

“C’monnn, let’s goooo,” you pleaded, shaking his arm. “I don’t have the energy to pull you up.” 

He used both hands to grab your arm and pulled himself up, leaving you both face to face. You instantly took a step back, frazzled once again. Mark was never good at hiding his facial expressions. It was what made getting close to him so easy. You felt like you could read his mind, and sometimes you dive deeper than he expects. He looked at you a little confused by your distance and you simply gave his arm a squeeze, not wanting to look too suspicious. He smiled. 

Mark naturally wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer and walked the two of you out of the room, “Let’s gooo.” 

If he could read you the way you read him, you're sure he’d push you away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Scrubbing hard at the dishes, you cursed myself for being so bad at rock, paper, scissors. Yes, it’s a game of luck, but you must have the worst luck in the world to always lose to Lee Haechan. You could hear him snickering at the dining table behind you, smacking on the marshmallows they were about to roast. 

“Haechan! Stop snacking and bring those outside,” Jaemin snapped, coming in to bring in more dishes from dinner. 

“Yessir!” Haechan mocked a salute and scrambled outside to where Mark and Jenn were setting up the campfire. Jeno and Sumin were looking for more firewood and Renjun went to take a post-dinner nap. 

Jaemin bumped you with his hip, scooting you over as he started rinsing your dishes.

“You’re helping?” you asked, shocked that someone would willingly wash dishes. 

“Should I stop?” He smiles, threatening to let go of the plate.

“No! No. No. I appreciate the help.” 

Jaemin laughs, “That’s what I thought.”

You both stand there quietly washing what felt like millions of dishes. Spending time alone with Jaemin was never uncomfortable, but there were always moments when your mind gets in the way and you think about what he knows. 

It’s like he can read your thoughts because he suddenly asks, “Is this trip gonna be okay for you?“

Suddenly hyper-focused on the crust of the pan, you didn’t dare make eye contact with him. 

“What do you mean?”

Jaemin takes the pan from you and starts scrubbing himself. You instantly occupy yourself with another dish.

He sighs, “I mean, usually when we set the two up, we’re never actually there to witness how it goes. It must suck to watch them laugh and be happy like that.” His words burn.

You hiss at the realization and almost drop the cup you were gripping. Jaemin tuts and grabs the cup from your hand. His hand on your wrist is tight, begging you to look up. You chew on your inner cheek, hesitantly lifting your eyes to match his. 

“It’s only the first day, but we have a whole week. If you ever need to get away from all of this, you find me, okay?” The brown in his eyes is warm and inviting, and his facial structures soften when he’s talking to you. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and you could see how nervous he is for you. You slowly release his grip from your wrist and you hold his hand lightly.

“Thank you, Jaem. But I’ll be okay. I’ve made it this far,” You meekly smile. Your eyes darted to the side of his face to look outside the window where Jenn is throwing marshmallows up in the air for Mark to catch. He looks so happy. Maybe even in love. And that look wasn’t for you. The ache in your chest returns and you hope Jaemin doesn’t catch on. You don’t know what it is that made you so sensitive in this moment, but your vision blurred slightly with tears. 

“You sure about that?” He teases, wiping the tear that managed to slip. 

“You’re gonna get soap in my eyes,” you scowl, but laugh at how pathetic you're being. He gently blows the suds off your face and you could feel them being replaced with a peachy rose tint on your cheeks.

“C’mon, let’s hurry. They’re gonna eat all the marshmallows and your terrible scrubbing is slowing me down. Jesus, Y/N, I’m finding so many missed food spots.”

Your jaw dropped and you scrubbed harder, “It’s dark in here and my arms are tired from driving! Leave me alone.”

Jaemin looks at you from his peripheral to see you practically scrubbing the varnish off the plates and he smiles. He hopes you'll be okay, but also a part of him hopes you'll seek comfort in him if needed. Was that too much or too selfish to wish for?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

For the rest of the glamping days, you're unintentionally glued to Jaemin’s side. Every activity planned for this trip ended up with you being paired up with him: paddle boarding, hiking, cliff jumping, grilling, and so on. Every partner assignment was decided by rock, paper, scissors, and somehow the two of you kept doing the same one. Some would say it's fate, but Jaemin would call it cheating. He was lucky that Renjun hasn’t caught him changing his hands last minute to copy yours. Truth be told, Jeno noticed a while ago, but decided to let his best friend have his fun. 

The universe likes to play its games too. And that’s how you ended up being partnered with Mark for canoeing. You almost fought it till you saw how happy Jenn was to canoe with Sumin. Mark simply shrugged and grabbed two life vests for you guys.

He offered to strap it in for you and you were looking at everything but his face. Unfortunately, you could still feel the steady rhythm of his breath catching up to the racing of your heart. 

“I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages,” Mark said to break the ice. It was true though. Your wing woman duties on this trip were basically minimal as the group joined efforts to get the two together at all costs. It took a lot off of you and you were happily distracted by Jaemin. 

“I bet you got a lot of talking done with Jenn though.” you gave him a closed mouth smile, trying to find the positives of your distance, for his sake and yours.

Mark looked at you with anything but happiness. Shouldn’t he be happy? At this rate, Jenn and he are close to making it official. 

“I just missed you,” Mark stated like he was releasing air from his lungs. You had your shield up and you were ready to combat it with another sentence about how well his love life is looking. But you saw the look in his eyes and the way his body looked defeated. You tightened the strap on his life jacket and patted over his heart.

“I missed you too,” you replied. It was something you weren't letting yourself admit this entire week. Like fireworks, a smile instantly erupted on his face and he grabbed your hands from his straps, giving your palm a swift kiss before dragging you to your boat.

Your insides screamed at his gesture and your legs failed to move as you stumbled after him. It was like you were in a Mark drought and he was the single drop of water you needed to beg for more. 

The remaining of the afternoon was spent paddling in circles and laughing till your throats were dry at your horrible rowing skills. An oar was even lost in the process. Mark also clumsily fell in while trying to reach for a duck. Being the good person you are, you jumped in after him so he wasn’t alone. Admittedly, it looked more fun than sitting in one place on the canoe. 

Mark cackled at the life jacket forcing you to bob up and down in the water, making you look like a little kid drowning. 

“You look so stupid,” he says in the middle of laughing, accidentally swallowing some lake water.

“Jerk!” you splashed him and he’s sputtering, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. His jaw drops when he realized what you did and he looks at you so seriously. Your hands are ready to splash him again and the water fight begins. You're hurling water toward each other for a good five minutes before he concedes, whining about potentially losing a contact. 

You swim towards him, grabbing his face to check his eyes. His contacts were very clearly still intact. You're about to call him out for lying when he suddenly spits water onto your face. 

“Marcus Lee.” you threaten him, still holding onto his face. Your eyes are shut in disgust. 

You wipe the water off your face and open your eyes to see him grinning evilly. 

“That’s not even my name,” Mark giggles.

“‘Mark Lee’ doesn’t have the same impact,” you shrug, moving your hands to his shoulders to stay afloat. 

He smiles fondly, holding onto your elbows lightly. The feeling in his chest felt as good as the sun resting on his backside. The warmth of the sunset reflected off your lake-soaked cheeks, plump from laughing, and something stirred in his chest. Something a little too similar to the feeling he was forcing when he was with Jenn. It was the feeling Mark had wished he felt when with her. 

Scared of this new emotion, he let go of you and scrambled to climb back into the canoe. He quickly mumbled about wanting to get back before it got dark. You floated there a little confused by his urgency, but followed suit anyways. He tossed you a towel and out of nowhere gained the skills of a professional rower and got you back to the shore in no time. Without even looking back, he trudged towards the cabin, leaving you with the setting sun, cold and confused.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So he just left you there?” Renjun asks, scrolling through Netflix to pick a show to watch. It was just the two of you since the rest were too tired from today’s activities.

“Mhmm. It was so weird.” 

“I can check up on him in the morning since he’s asleep now. But he probably just had the shits. You know Mark.” He finally settled on an episode of New Girl.

You took a sip of your hot cocoa and pondered the chances. “Mmm true.”

Renjun laughs at your agreement and grabbed a blanket for the both of you.

“But you both had fun, right?” He asks, not really paying attention to the show at all. It seemed like he just wanted to talk and you were fine with that.

“Yeah, I mean we didn’t spend much time together this trip which is pretty rare for us. But you know, The Operation takes priority,” you took another sip to clear the knot that suddenly formed in your throat.

“You probably missed him a loooot, huh?” Renjun hid his smirk behind the mug.

“A normal amount… what are you grabbing at?“ you narrowed your eyes at him and leaned back, surveying his body language. He looked like he was holding something in.

“Oh my god,” he bursts. “Can you just tell me already?” He sets his cup down and grabs your forearms.

“Huh? Tell you what?” Where is this coming from?, you think. You set your cup down too out of precaution.

“I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know you like him, so I need you to confirm it so we can talk freely,” he waved his hands in the air like he was a therapist trying to get you to spill. You almost laughed at how ridiculous he looked.

Your hand slapped against his mouth and you did a quick look around the room. No peeping heads.

“How did you figure it out?“ you whisper-screamed. You could feel the very foundation of Mark's and your friendship crumble. 

“Imph phnot phstupidmph,” He muffles out.

“Huh?” You question stupidly and he glares at you, sharply pointing at your hand. “Oh, duh.”

Renjun clears his throat, “I said I’m not stupid. And considering how much time Jaemin has been spending with you, I’m guessing he knows too.” You look at the wall behind his head, feeling guilty.

“I don’t know why you would tell him before me though. We were lab buddies first before you met Jaemin. Not fair, Y/N.” He huffs, crossing his arms. If the security of your love life wasn’t falling apart at this very moment, you would’ve found him endearing.

“Do you think anyone else has figured it out?” you ask.

“No, I’m like the only smart one,” Renjun scoffs.

“Wrong!” A voice booms from the hallway. Haechan walks in yawning, fully decked out in a matching set of pajamas. He takes a swig from Renjun’s hot cocoa, earning him a smack. 

He sits down to your right and smiles, “I found out like 2 weeks after you and Mark met.” 

“Damn, you found out before Jaemin did,” You admitted. Not even shocked or worried that a third person knows, You sat there dumbfounded.

“Yesss!” Haechan pumps the air and proceeds to take another sip but this time from your cup. You tsked and gave him a flick before grabbing your mug back.

“Okay, so now what?” Renjun asks like there was more to this.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What do you mean ‘now what’?”

Haechan doesn’t even look surprised but Renjun is staring at you like you offended him.

“You’re just… not gonna do anything? Ignore your feelings?” Haechan nodded along with Renjun’s questioning. The angel and the devil on your shoulders, or should I say devil and devil.

“Renjunie, that’s what I’ve been doing, I don’t know if you’ve noticed. I’m the wing woman. I’d be betraying my duty.” You said this like a mantra, a mantra you're been telling yourself for the past few months.

“What about the duty to your heart?” 

“Gross,” Haechan chimes in. It earned a scrunch of your nose and a weird look. 

“I regretted it the minute I said it,” Renjun slouches defeatedly. 

“Look, I appreciate the concern. Jaemin gives me these talks all the time, and trust me, it won’t change my mind. I love Mark too much to get in the way of his happiness. And all for what? Because I have these feelings? That’s ridiculous.” 

Haechan and Renjun looked at you with even more pity in their eyes, which is more than you usually see from Jaemin.

“What?”

“It’s worse than I thought,” Haechan whispers.

“You love him.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On the morning of the last day, you notice Mark is avoiding you at all costs. He’s even avoiding Jenn. Everyone was packing up the car and he completely took over, not letting anyone touch the luggage or the car. You tugged Renjun to the side to ask what was up and he simply shrugged, saying he doesn’t know what was going on. 

When you all make your first pitstop, You and Jaemin are buying snacks for the group. You see Mark staying in the driver’s seat, claiming that he can go the whole way. Both of you give each other concerned looks and Jaemin says he has an idea.

His idea ended up being you switching places with Haechan to sit in the passenger seat, much to his complaints about getting car sick. He does not get motion sick, by the way, especially as the man who has ridden all the rides at Six Flags not once, but twice in one day. 

The only time Mark looks at you is to see you climb into the passenger seat. From then on, his grip on the wheel is tight and his eyes are trained on the road. You even offer to do directions for him, but he immediately declines. His cold behavior leaves a weird feeling blooming in your chest and you almost feel sick, regretting the decision to buy a gas station hot dog.

A few hours passed and Haechan and Renjun are knocked out from their endless karaoke and the rest of them followed suit after finally getting some peace and quiet. 

“Hey,” you whisper to Mark. “Mark.”

His eyebrows perk up, maybe not expecting you to initiate conversation. “What’s up?”

“Are you good?”

He nervously twists his hands around the wheel. “Yeah, dude. I’m fine.”

You looked him up and down, not believing him at all. “Then are we good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” He says with a hint of offense. You grip the sleeves of your hoodie a little tighter. He’s never talked to you this way. 

“I-I don’t know. You just seem a little off today, that’s all.” You half confessed. He’s more than just a little off. His behavior was making the air tense and you wished Jaemin didn’t convince you to take the front seat. You chose to stare out the window instead.

“Y/N, there’s nothing wrong. I’m just missing my space, okay?” Mark says sternly, giving you the affirmative sign to leave him alone. Tears instantly prick the corner of your eyes at his tone. Mark has always been a cheerful presence in your life so for these words to be spat at you like this… It felt horrible. It felt like his bad mood was your fault. You tug the hood of your jacket up further and you turned away from him even more, not wanting to make it worse.

“Sounds good,” you managed to mutter, popping in your headphones so you didn’t have to hear any more from him.

Mark spares a glance at you and his eyes instantly soften. Something in his chest twists at the way you're turned away from him, in his favorite hoodie. Jaemin is looking from the seat behind; he’s been watching. He sighs and reminds himself to switch places with you at the next pitstop. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Finals season hits the minute you all get back from your trip and the only time your group meets up is to study in the library. Mark, who is usually a huge advocate for group studies, is suddenly a solo studier. You haven’t seen him in a week and when you sought out Jenn, she reports the same thing. 

Thankfully and unfortunately, your finals were extra rough this semester and you essentially had no time to worry about him. Occasionally, you'd send him texts with your class notes to check up on him, but all you'd get in response is a simple thumbs up. 

Jaemin decided to change the scenery and study at a cafe near campus. He had two more exams left, but you only had one so you were definitely more relaxed than he was. You ordered a slice of cake and a pastry and munched away as he tackled his workload. You occasionally fed him bites here and there.

An hour into the study session, the food settled in your stomach as well as the repressed feelings about Mark. You twirled your straw as you stared at Jaemin typing, trying to decide if now was a good time to bother him.

“You’re staring,” He says, continuing to type. 

“Yup.” you say, popping your lips. 

“Is my handsomeness not blinding?” He smirks, eyes still on his screen. He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

You gag and shove a spoon of cake into his mouth. “Nevermind, no more talking. I don’t wanna throw up the food I paid for.”

He laughs and finally lifts his hands off the keyboard. Jaemin takes a sip of his deadly concoction with eight shots of espresso to wash down the cake and raises his eyebrows.

“You can ask, you know?”

You roll your lips in and tap at the table, suddenly too shy to ask.

“Okay, then I’ll just assume and answer. Mark is… weird. Mark’s not really acting like himself right now if I’m being completely honest,” Jaemin admits. He’s lazily poking his ice with the straw, waiting to see your reaction. 

“Hmm,” you pretend to ponder his words, suddenly struck with worry. Even though you're still hurt by his actions from the ride back and his sudden desire to avoid you for a week, you can’t help but care. It was almost annoying how much you want to text him, despite his lack of interest in you. It annoyed Jaemin more.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” 

Your eyes perked up, shocked by Jaemin’s change in tone.

“He dismissed you on the car ride back. He’s ignored you this entire week. He doesn’t even say thank you when you send him your notes. Why-” He shakes his head, aggravated. “Why are you still worrying about him?”

“Jaemin… you know why.”

“Listen, I love Mark like a brother. But he doesn’t deserve you. You’ve done so much for him with this whole Jenn situation, it’s just not fair to you.” Jaemin says this so seriously, you feel frozen in my spot. You’ve probably heard these words leave his mouth a million times, but today it felt different. His words weighed differently. 

“I don’t know what else to do, Jaemin. This is the only thing I can do. It’s the only thing I know how to do.”

“He’s not even appreciative of it!” Jaemin pushes further, growing more desperate to have you hear his words, praying they stick this time. “You don’t need to put yourself through this for his sake.”

You're flattening a piece of the cake with a fork as you actually consider his words. With Mark distancing himself, your mind feels a little clearer, more room for thoughts. 

“I wouldn’t be friends with him in the first place if I didn’t agree to be his wing woman. It’s why I’m in his life in the first place. I’m… I’m too scared to risk it.” 

Jaemin decides he’s had enough and shuts his laptop, too angry to work. “You’re an idiot if you think he’s only keeping you around because you’re close to Jenn. Why do you value yourself so little? Do you think we’re just friends because we’re both in Operation Jump Jenn? No, Sarah. We’re friends because I like you.”

Jaemin sucks in his breath, at his poor word choice; he looks like he’s in pain. If only she knew I meant it differently, he thinks to himself. 

He continues, “So why would Mark, after all this time, not think of you as more than just a wing woman?” 

The area around your eyes sting and you could feel yourself fighting back tears. Your lips tremble, choking back a sob. Jaemin’s eyes widen and his hands twitch wanting to hold yours, but he pulls himself back.

“I still can’t tell him. Things won’t be the same.” 

The look of pity Jaemin usually gives you is replaced by frustration, and maybe some disappointment. You fidget under his stare, tightly wrapping your arms around your waist. He shakes his head.

“Mark doesn’t deserve you if he leaves you after finding out how you feel. You really think he’d do that? Do you think that lowly of him?” He rests his hands on the table and he looks at you, urging you to try to defend yourself. But his words sink deeper. He’s right, do you really think that lowly of Mark?

You sighed in defeat and in exhaustion. You were at a loss for words, having your thoughts psychoanalyzed in front of you. You don’t think lowly of Mark at all. Shouldn’t you have more faith in him? In us?, you think.

“Why do you have to be so smart?” you glare at Jaemin. He immediately relaxes, smiling in return. He was staring at you for so long, trying to figure out what was going on inside your brain. He was on the edge of his seat, terrified that you'd drop him for his candor. Or that you caught on to his little confession.

He shrugs in response, “Pre-med.”

“You’re annoying,” you laugh, giving his foot a kick. Jaemin laughs with you and opens up his laptop again. You both work for another minute before he stops to look up at you again.

“Hey. I’m sorry if I went too far.” Instead of grabbing your hand, he traps one of your legs with his two. He swings it back and forth with a pout on his face, begging for you two to be okay.

“No, no, I needed that. Thank you for looking out for me.” Your chest warms, knowing that you have someone as lovely as Na Jaemin on your side. 

You lean forward and pinch his cheek, “How’d I get so lucky with a friend like you?” 

His face falters for a second before snapping back into a smile. He playfully licks your hand and you pull it back in disgust.

“You got me for life unfortunately.”

“Mmm, unfortunately,” you fake pout. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After your talk with Jaemin, it took you embarrassingly two days to figure out what to do next. Mark still isn’t talking to you and as much as it pains you, it’s actually given you the space to think. You finally decided to do something you should’ve done months ago.

“Do you like Mark?”

Jenn chokes on her sandwich and you scramble to hand her a glass of water, patting her shoulder lightly. Maybe you should’ve timed that better.

“Huh?” There was something swirling around in Jenn’s eyes. Confusion. Pure confusion. It was not what you expected at all. 

“I don’t know, do you like Mark?” you repeated, bracing yourself for her answer. 

She looked at you and did a quick once over. Jenn realized you were serious and brushed the crumbs off her hands before settling in her lap. 

“Mark’s cool. He talks a lot. The only reason we hang or talk is because of you and the boys. That’s kind of what it feels like for me and Mark. I don’t know… sometimes his behavior towards me feels forced. I thought he was just acting this way because I’m your best friend.” She took a sip, looking up and thinking about what more she could say about Mark Lee. 

“Wait. What do you mean by that?” The pit in your stomach appears. Did she figure out The Operation?

“Isn’t he just getting on good terms with me because he likes you? I don’t like him, by the way.” Jenn let those words flow out of her mouth as if it was the only thing to say. Like this is how she felt for months. 

“Huh?!” It was your turn to be confused. Never in your friendship with Mark have you considered your feelings being returned. You also never expected it to be implied by the person Mark is literally crushing on. 

“Wait. Was that not obvious? Every time Mark and I hung out, it just felt… like he was looking for something in me. It was strange. I just assumed it was because he wanted to look good in your eyes like ‘Hey! I’m buddy buddy with the bestie of my crush!’” She waved her fork in the air as she spoke and finally stabbed it into a potato wedge for a bite. 

“This is insane.” you sat there, appetite gone. Jenn never reciprocated feelings towards Mark. Jenn thought Mark liked me?, you thought. It felt like your efforts and feelings from the past few months were tumbling down. You were a step away from a spiral.

“What’s insane is that you thought I liked Mark. Don’t you like him?” 

You suddenly started choking on your spit and Jenn was quick to hand you a glass of water. 

For the rest of the meal, you explained everything to Jenn. From Mark approaching you in class, Haechan coming up with the horrible operation name (to which she gagged), and Jaemin’s talk with you from the other day. She was taken completely by surprise. To be fair, Jenn has always been pretty and has had people of all genders try their hand at flirting with her. She’s always been numb to it, so it’s not surprising that Mark and his loser-like charm didn’t come across as romantic. You use the word ‘loser’ in the nicest way. 

At the end of it all, Jenn is furious.

“I can’t believe he’s ignoring you. And for no reason? After all you did for him? Albeit, it didn’t work, and I hope you never try to set anyone else up with me ever again.” At that, you gave her a guilty smile and offered to buy her boba. 

“Deal. Anyways, that’s fucking ridiculous. What’s his problem?”

“I don’t know,” you said, picking at your fries. “He asked for space so I’m just gonna give it to him.”

Jenn nods and you avoid her pity stares.

“Jenn… I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I lose him, even as a friend. I-I really like him and I’m so so scared. Like the only two ways I can see this going is him continuing to ignore me and we drift or… or I listen to Jaemin and be honest with him about how I feel. And then he decides to stop being friends with me.”

“Okay, the second one is bullshit. You know Mark wouldn’t do that. He’d freak out, yeah, but he wouldn’t cut you off for that.” She scolds you, before taking another bite of your fries.

“I know. I knooow. But it’s still a fear I have. I’m telling you I’d rather be his friend and make a permanent home in this one sided love affair if it means I can still be in his life. That’s how insane my mind is.” You plop your head in your hands and let out what felt like a four-month-long repressed groan. 

“Sarah. You are probably the worst person for yourself.” Jenn clicks her teeth before hand-feeding you a fry, which you sadly munch on.

You sigh, “Yeah…”

“Yeah,” Jenn winces, before pulling you in for a hug.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Mark Lee is spiraling. 

“No because when she looked at me when we were out on that lake, I swear my heart was on steroids. I felt like my whole body was covered in tiny hearts and they were all beating at the same time. It was insane.”

“Uh huh,” Haechan mutters another one word response for what felt like the hundredth time today. He flipped through another page of the magazine before tossing it and reaching for Mark’s Nintendo switch. He shook it in Mark’s face as he paced back and forth.

“Huh? Oh yeah, go for it. Anyways, and when we drove home that day, dude, you should’ve seen the look on her face. I hurt her so bad, but it was like my body was on auto-pilot. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Like my brain and my heart were so confused. Because I like Jenn. I like Jenn, right? But why don’t I get those tiny hearts with her?”

“I don’t know, man. Damn, I can’t catch this stupid spider.” Haechan curses, twiddling his thumb on the remote trying to find joy in Animal Crossing.

“And now I’m not talking to both of them. But it doesn’t feel like I’m avoiding Jenn, but I can feel that I’m avoiding Y/N and it’s killing me.”

“Then. Talk. To. Her.” Haechan enunciates every time he hits a button on the switch.

“Who?” Mark asks, dumbfounded. Mark has had this same exact conversation with Haechan at least twice a day for the past week. If he wasn’t studying, he was bribing Haechan with food to come to his apartment to ramble. 

“Stupid spider,” Haechan slams the game on the couch cushion. “And stupid you. How many times do you have to circle around these same thoughts before you figure it out? Do I really have to say it, Mark? I’m trying to save you the embarrassment of admitting something so obvious.” He leans back, crossing his arms to assert some dominance in this situation. It’s ridiculous how many times Haechan has been tricked by food and games to be trapped in Mark’s apartment for the second time today. 

Mark just blinks, mouth slightly agape.

Haechan tilts his head, poking his cheek with his tongue. He raises his eyebrows, urging him to think just a little harder.

Mark finally looks up, as if a new thought crossed his mind. He gasps softly.

He covers his mouth as he mumbles, “No way…”

Haechan rolls his eyes at his dramatics, “Yes way.”

Mark pokes himself hard in the chest, “Do I like Y/N?”

“And he figures it out!” Haechan sarcastically cheers, clapping his hands. “Now can you buy me some actual food please?”

“No no no. Sit down. Because now we need to discuss this.” Mark starts pulling at his hair, even more stressed out than he was before.

“Oh my GOD,” Haechan screams. “What is there to discuss? You like her! Go tell her!”

Mark’s eyes bugged out as if Haechan turned into a mythical being. “Are you insane? No, scratch that. Am I insane? I started talking to her because I liked her best friend. I asked her to help me get close to her best friend. Our entire relationship is essentially built on this crush and you want me to tell her that I like her? Oh god, she has to hate me. She definitely hates me.” 

Mark stopped pacing and dropped to the ground in a squat. He’s full-on gripping his hair and Haechan is just watching. He forgot that Mark technically doesn’t know she likes him back and he pities him for a second before thinking he’s stupid again for not noticing. Everyone noticed. 

Mark finally raises his head and his face is left with tear trails. Haechan gets up immediately and wraps his arms around Mark’s shoulders.

“Oh, Marky,” Haechan sighs.

“Shit.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Mark (anatomy): hello!

Mark (anatomy): hi

Mark (anatomy): hey

Mark (anatomy): oh God sorry. I didn’t know which one to send and i accidentally sent them all

Mark (anatomy): HAHAHAH uhhh…

Mark (anatomy): can we talk? I wanna apologize in person.

You couldn’t help but laugh rereading Mark’s texts from this morning as you waited for him at the park. It took you an hour on your own and a 30-minute encouragement session with Jenn to work the confidence to agree to meet him. As nervous as you were to hear what he has to say, you missed him most of all and just wanted to see him. You sat on the second swing on the right, the same one you sat in when the two of you met outside of class the first time.

“Y/N?”

“Oh! Hi,” You got up from the swing to greet him, feeling a bit awkward. You could sense he felt weird too. 

You and Mark are simply classmates. You've been paired up in group projects a couple of times in class and when you see each other on campus, you both timidly wave. But most of the time, you're staring at the back of his head in class, wondering what it’d be like to sit next to him and talk.

So when he asked for your number and texted to meet at the park, your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Could he see you boring holes into his head or does he look at you the same way?

You wiped your hands on your dress and clasped them in front of you as he stood in his spot, about two feet away.

Why did I wear a dress?, you thought. This is so embarrassing. I look like I’m dressed for a date.

“You look nice,” He says, smiling to break the ice and simultaneously ridding you of your fashion doubts.

“Oh. Thanks,” you force a laugh, also trying to break the ice. “Um, why did you ask me to meet at a park?”

His eyes lit up and he chuckled, “I thought it’d be a good place for some scheming. You know, like in the movies.”

You blinked a few times, not quite catching on. “Scheming?”

He took the swing next to you and sat down. You copied his actions, twisting to look at him. He kicked up to catch some air and swung slightly.

“Okay, this is going to be weird, because I know you barely know me.” Not true, I thought. “But I wanted to ask you a favor. Half of my friends think I’m a dick for this and the other half say that you look understanding, so maybe I should give it a shot. Jaemin was super against it though, so I feel like I’m about to pee my pants right now. I thought about it for like two days and decided, you know what? It wouldn’t hurt to see how you felt, so here I am.” He used his feet as breaks as he finished his ramble to look at you, to seriously look at you.

Your grip on the swings tightens and you can smell the rust smearing on your palms. You can’t believe you get to see your crush this close to your face and he wants to ask you a favor. Your chest feels bubbly with anticipation. You nod, asking him to continue.

“I like Jenn.” The bubbles pop.

“O-oh,” you say. Your mouth has gone completely dry and the wind picked up to blow strands in your face. You quickly brush them away and swallow.

“You… you like my Jenn?” I tightly tuck the strands behind your ears, trying to compose yourself. He giggles and picks up a loose one to help. Mark Lee, what are you doing to me?, you think.

“Yeah. I wanna get closer to her and I know you guys are friends.”

“Best friends,” you clarify, hesitantly.

“Right, right. I know this is insane and I’m like completely using you. So feel free to say no to helping me. You can probably see how desperate I am, but I also can take rejection pretty well! I think.” He tousled his hair with his hand and reoriented himself. 

Clearing his throat, Mark admits, “I’m not… I’m not the best with girls. My game is off completely and I think I really like Jenn. So I thought I’d try. I wanna try. I just don’t know where to start. So I’m sorry if I’m going the wrong way about this or if I offended you.” He huffs. The boy-next-door charm you always see him carry around campus fades and he looks defeated. Despite the slight crack I feel in your heart, it swelled looking into his eyes. He must really like her.

“I’ll help you.”

Mark perked up, his whole body shaking the swingset. “What? Really?” His toothy grin returns and your heart lurches knowing it was partly because of you.

You nod, “Mhm. You seem nice, I think Jenn would like you.” I like you, you thought.

He gets up and tackles you on the swings with a hug. You fall backward and he quickly catches the back of your head before it hits the ground, eyes wide in fear.

“Oh my god, I almost killed you,” he laughs in disbelief. You’re gonna be the death of me, Mark Lee.

“Y/N!”

You almost drop your phone, looking up to meet the eyes of the boy that avoided you for almost two weeks. You thought you'd be overcome with anger, but you weren't. Instead, you felt exactly the same way you felt the first day at the park. Nervous.

“Hey,” you smiled slightly, not getting up from your spot. Mark falters slightly noticing your cold front. He stumbles on the woodchips as he walks over to the swing next to you.

You two swing slightly in silence and you're beating yourself up in your head for not having the courage to curse him out. Jenn prepared you to go off on him and you can’t even open your mouth, you whine to yourself. The more you two sit here, honestly, the angrier you get. Shouldn’t he be saying something? He called you out here in the first place. Before you could utter a word, Mark finally clears his throat. 

“I’m sorry.”

You lift your head to look at him, the first look at him since you took some time apart, and your heart already races when you meet his eyes. You know you're doomed when all the anger suddenly dissipates. You almost want to laugh at how silly this situation is. You still don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue.

“You’re probably confused as to why I’ve been avoiding you. At first, I didn’t know why either. And I know that ignoring you without telling you why wasn’t the move, but it helped me figure it out.” He broke eye contact with you and he started to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks frustrated.

“I did it because I was scared. I was scared because I don’t like Jenn anymore. I’m starting to think I never did.” Mark confesses and he looks upset with himself. You get a good look at his face and you notice the eyebags, the pallor, and his chapped lips. He looks exhausted. You wonder if you look the same.

He sniffles. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I literally put you through all of this just for me to realize I don’t even like her. I used you. And I feel selfish because I still want you in my life.”

“Mark…,” you finally speak, your throat feels rough as if it’s been days. “I have to tell you something.” Your voice came out like a whisper, but it was all the strength you had.

He looks up, a signal to continue.

“As shitty as it was for you to ignore me for over a week, it let me do some thinking too,” you sigh, not wanting to say what comes next. “I don’t think we can be friends right now. And-and don’t worry, it’s not because of the whole 'you befriending me for Jenn' thing. I don’t want you to feel guilty for that because I honestly feel so grateful to have been your friend. I hope, I guess, you feel the same way. But, uh, it’s actually because… it’s because I like you, Mark.”

His jaw drops slightly and his eyes widen, almost like he forgot how to function. It was almost cartoon-like. 

“Yeah,” you awkwardly laugh. “I’ve actually liked you from the start, and I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty. I just thought you should know — to help you understand. Anyways, I realized how hard it is for me to be friends with you when I have these feelings for you. It wouldn’t be fair to me, and I’d be dishonest to you if I continued being friends with you under the guise of purely platonic intentions, you know? I really, really hope you understand.” 

You let out a breath, half relieved and half anxious. After rehearsing that a few times with Jenn, you didn’t expect the words to come out so smoothly. Especially when he’s staring at you like this. However, your pride fades as you wait for his response, a response that determines the future of your relationship.

“I don’t understand,” Mark says firmly. He’s shaking his head trying to wrap his mind around all of it. It feels like a rejection.

“Mark,” you whine, not wanting him to finish his thought -- to spare yourself the awaited pain.

“No, I don’t understand because… because I like you too.”

Heat immediately flushed throughout your chest as you heard the three words you never expected to come out of Mark’s mouth. Your mouth is itching to smile, but a part of you feels doubtful still, weighing down the corners of your lips.

“Are-are you sure? Like are you sure your mind isn’t tricking you into thinking you like me because you realized you don’t like Jenn?” You lean in, close to falling off the swings. You look at him with so much seriousness, but he meets you with a giggle.

“If my mind was tricking me, it’s awfully persistent. I think… in trying to get Jenn to like me, I started to fall for you,” Mark says as if he’s putting the last piece of the puzzle down.

“The image I had of Jenn wasn’t what I expected and I think, while in denial, I was forcing it onto her. I was trying so hard to have real feelings for her, but I think I was also still trying because it meant I got to be with you. Our friendship was contingent on me getting with Jenn, so I guess I was subconsciously scared of losing us… But at the same time, deep down, I wanted more than just a friendship with you.”

Mark looks at you and he offers the widest smile like he found his answer. A smile that ignites the fuzzy fire in your body even more. Your heart is racing so loud you can’t even hear your thoughts.

“Marcus Lee, I didn’t know you had those words in you,” you giggle, trying to soften the conversation.

He shrugs, “Dude, I didn’t think I did either. I just really like you, Y/N. And to be honest, Haechan helped a little.”

As quickly as the happiness came, it washed away just as fast. No matter how ecstatic you were to hear Mark say he likes you back, you couldn’t stop the disgusting doubt that lingered in your mind. You’ve always been in wing woman mode around him, and trying to imagine another scenario where you're the girl he wants is harder than you thought.

“Mark?” you turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” He looks at me with a different light in his eyes.

“I want to believe you, but... I can’t. I can’t really wrap my head around it, I’m sorry.” you clasp your hands together out of nerves.

He dims only a little, “No, I get it." He nods as if gathering the courage to say what's next.

"I can see how it’d be hard to believe. But I’ll prove it to you…

I won’t let you doubt my feelings.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧