let's go back to life.

"I feel tired from chasing you around this damn maze," he exasperates.

"I told you to stop following me," you reply calmly, taking a step towards him. "Why didn't you?"

"Because you were running away," he points out as if that should be obvious, as if that's reason enough.

You shake your head. "No. There's another reason."

He sighs, but he doesn't move when you step into his space, chest to chest, face to face. His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest second, instinctive and unguarded. It's only a mere moment before his eyes meet yours again, but alas, it's too late to pretend it didn't happened, much like the eye roll he clearly hoped would distract you from it.

"You know, sometimes there isn't a deep, emotional reason behind someone's actions. Sometimes they just follow you because you were running away and they felt like it." Seungmin rolls his shoulders, trying to straighten himself beneath the weight of thirteen years spent pretending to be the someone everyone else expected him to be.

But you know him better than that. Seungmin may be able to fool his family, your family, your fiance's family, diplomats, princes, and kings.

But he can't fool you.

You know him.

Seungmin.

Not Prince Seungmin. Not future king of the neighboring land you'd wished would be your future home for so long.

Seungmin. Your best friend. Your partner in crime. Your childhood.

"...Do you really want me to marry him?"

Seungmin pauses. Swallows. And then replies with a simple, "Do you want to?"

"I asked you first."

"It's not about me or what I want."

You take a slow breath before reaching for his hand.

"It could be," you murmur. "It could be about what we both want...if we both wanted the same thing...and were brave enough to fight for it."

His bare skin meets yours.

It had become a rarity after you both reached the royal age of maturity at fourteen. Gone were the days of thoughtless affection, piggyback rides through gardens, fingers intertwined as you raced across the lawn, sleepy goodnight hugs before retreating to your separate chambers.

Royals simply didn't do those things once they grew up. And they certainly didn't seek out skin-to-skin contact with someone who wasn't family...or a betrothed.

But you'd missed his warmth.

Seungmin's hands always fit yours so effortlessly, as though they had been shaped by the gods with yours in mind. This wasn't like the polite brush of his lips against the back of your gloved hand. There was nothing ceremonial about this. Nothing distant.

This is warmth against warmth.

His body heat seeps into your palm as his fingers slowly folds around yours, careful, hesitant, because he too understands exactly what this means.

Anyone wandering the palace grounds at this hour could stumble upon the two of you standing far too close, hands entwined in a way that invited questions neither of you could afford to answer.

Yet feeling him hold your hand makes m every second of that risk feel worth it.

"You're engaged..." he whispers to you and to remind himself before he does something rash, "...it's not right for me to want..."

"To want what?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Are you sure?" you ask hopefully, eyes pleading and hand tightening in his. "Are you sure it's nothing? It could be something, couldn't it?"

He watches you for a long moment, this time allowing his gaze to drift to your lips, openly and blatantly.

And then, with the slightest rock forward of his body, he squeezes your hand before letting it go and stepping back.

"No. It can't."

"Why not? Because you're a coward? Because I'm not good enough? At least tell me why."

With his hands in his pocket, Seungmin begins to walk to the edge of the cully, glancing over his shoulder one last time.

"Yes. I'm a coward."

You huff so you won't cry.

"Well then. I suppose it's best I don't marry a coward."

His eyes fall before his head does, a small, respectful, distant bow. "Goodnight, Princess."

"Goodbye, Seungmin."