shadow;

“I mean— that was—” He licks his lips, hopes ihs eyes doesn’t give away his desperation before he finally laughs. Very awkwardly and stiff. “A joke, of course. Just— uh— a joke. Sorry.”  

Kyungsoo would have no problem admitting that he is, indeed, prejudiced perhaps against his will, ignorantly so for lack of experience in dealing with real people who do the real job like the taller male does. So he assumes, hard maybe, about that game that Jongin plays for a living with the assumptions of someone who has never exchanged more than a few words with someone who sells sex for a living. Kyungsoo considers himself a forward kind of man, but a part of him still lingers in that conservative mentality imposed by his mother and the prime and proper keep him from fully understanding a lot which the male he’s with sees as normal. None of that matters though. He is not there to be introduced to his ‘world’ and the questions about how it all works remain unanswered because his curiosity doesn’t prod him to go any further.

He raises his eyebrow. Jongin agrees to his terms without giving much of a fight which is enough to tell him that he either doesn’t know what he is agreeing to or he simply wants that conversation to be over quickly. Kyungsoo could probably back him up on the second option, but the first sounds too real for him to ignore. He does his math rather quickly, he’s used to dealing with large sums (and so should Jongin, at least in Kyungsoo’s movie-fueled imagination where escorts are rich and swim around in a pool made out of money. Apparently, he had been wrong all along.)

“Two hundred and forty thousand won,” he says “That’s how much you’ll owe me.” He doesn’t ask if that’s manageable or not because he doesn’t care about that detail, he simply assumes it is because the deal has been agreed to and Kyungsoo may as well already be thinking about contract terms or something similar to secure their terms of the agreement. 

He doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around the photographer’s shoulders once he’s reached him, giving him a squeeze and letting go moments later, saving the pda for later once they’re away from the tracks and Kyungsoo doesn’t have everyone watching him. Baekhyun has to raise his voice as he speaks up, leaning in to make it easier for the other to understand him over the cheering of the crowd. “How’s the damage on your car?”

Then, moments later because he’s cold and hungry: “When are we leaving?”

There are not many people who know about that side of Kyungsoo, about the races, the thrill that has been a part of his life for quite a few years. Kyungsoo is notorious for not liking to open up about himself, but Baekhyun being a happy exception, knows almost all and curiously enough, it doesn’t bother Kyungsoo. Over ten years of friendship have its perks with someone like Kyungsoo, who will die before admitting that having somoene like Baekhyun in his life has done more good than bad. 

He allows the arm around his shoulder, the brotherly hug that is so characteristically Baekhyun. Baekhyun with his contagious energy, smiles and genuineness which Kyungsoo can’t put his finger on but indulges as if he needs them too. Another thing he won’t admit to. Kyungsoo puts an arm around his friends’ waist, casually so, this time with no snickering and no mentions of distaste regarding the fact that Baekhyun can put his arm over his shoulders because he’s like, half an inch taller. 

“A bit dented on the side but nothing serious, some scratches only. It’ll need some polish and paint so it needs a good mechanic to look at it. Do you know any trustworthy one that doesn’t ask questions?”

It’s a bit of a walk from where Kyungsoo’s parked to the sidelines, but Baekhyun makes it quickly enough, turning around in time to watch the others pull into position. A few people in the crowd near him seem to recognize him; his small figure and the silver hair not an uncommon sight, and his obvious friendship with Kyungsoo odd enough for him to be a subject of interest, but not enough so for him to be approached. Unthinkingly, he reaches into his pocket, thumbing the edge of his keyring in a nervous habit, the masses loud around him. It’s just moments later that the drivers take off and Baekhyun concentrates, staying quiet through the roaring around him, and he smiles as Kyungsoo takes the lead immediately.

Kyungsoo would never want to lose, Baekhyun knows that. Not many people know Kyungsoo as he is, he doesn’t let them. With Baekhyun, things are different, simpler. He has considered it himself, if it’s the way the other carries himself or if it’s the softness in him that allowed Kyungsoo to trust him almost to the point of blindness, in a way that he has shared more with the boy than with anyone else. In fact, he doesn’t think he has anyone as close as Baekhyun that he can call a friend which, in Kyungsoo’s case and personality, can be quite understandable. However, the fact that he trusts Baekhyun enough to allow him to see the other side of him is a rare feat. Baekhyun knows there is an affectionate side to Kyungsoo, knows there is a fond and soft part of him that cares deeply for those that are important to him, because when Kyungsoo loves something or someone, he does it deeply and unconditionally, loyal from start to end.

He looks through the rear mirror to measure his distance from the others. It’s not enough for him to relax as it never is with those races. There is a blue car inching closer to his right, so he shifts gears, steps in the accelerator and gains momentum. One out of three is too far back to make a recovery, but the blue audi on his right is still enough to cause him trouble. Kyungsoo knows the driver, of course, as he does with most everyone that visits the tracks and enters the races these days. He shifts again, closing in on the one on his right, just enough to stay in front of them, forcing them to lose speed in order not to crash into his rear and yet, he feels the slight bump on the back because the touch is unavoidable. He’s the first to cross the finishing line, unsurprisingly so, and he knows someone who must be cheering in the distance. All the odds were favorable to the photographer, but it helps that he had a lucky star in the audience that night.  He moves his car around, parking it out of the main track to clear it for the next set of racers and going around the vehicle to assess the damage to the rear of the car. Definitely needs a bit of polishing and paint on that. He winces slightly, but he’s done much worse to it. He ignores the flailing of the audi’s driver in the back, apparently, there’s a little more than a few scratches on their car. Not that Kyungsoo is sorry for it, he’d do what he had to so he could win after all. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She takes a step in Kyungsoo’s direction. “I’m not a baby. I’m not a flower.” She tells him firmer like to prove her point, she has never minded as much as she does now, the fact that Kyungsoo babies her like that. Maybe because she never thought that it’d get to this point, that he’d cross the line of making a crack on her trust just to “protect” her from something that she doesn’t need protection from to begin with.

“Ten years, Kyungsoo, you had ten years, I— you know I’d never ask the child you to tell me but—“ She sighs, looks down again, bites her lower lip for a beat. “Didn’t I deserve at least that? To have some sort of closure?”

Kyungsoo is not used to the feeling of nervousness. He is used to be in control of everything in his life and sometimes even in other’s lives as well since no one really prevents him from doing so or being like so. Ever since he was a child, he has been brought up knowing he had to solve his own problems and deal with every variable and every possible outcome without displaying any distress over it. Now, that situation is a strange thing for him. Joohyun is a totally different case altogether. She has been a constant in his life and no matter how many years went by, no matter how much they both changed, or how he changed, she was always there one way or another. 

Seeing her mad is not something he is used to either. Joohyun is sweet and gentle all the time and throughout the years of knowing each other, the two never had an argument before. Kyungsoo supposes he’d have it coming. It was stupid to think he could hide that from her as if she is some silly girl who would never get to know. If it was her in her shoes, he wouldn’t have rested until he found the truth. In fact, the quest for answers and the real truth had been the sole reason why he boarded that plane back to Korea seven years before. But knowing the things he does, because he was in the middle of it all in a way had him thinking that the least she knew, the better. The type of people their parents dealt with are not the type of people e wants near her even though that’s exactly the people he sometimes mingles with.

She is different in his eyes though and maybe it’s that not so silent oath they have had ever since they were kids and how he remembers the day he swore to protect her no matter what. Is it bad that he doesn’t regret having kept her in the dark about this matter? Does that make him a bad person? Because he was only trying to keep her away from a world she doesn’t have to belong in and that he doesn’t want her in, but he can’t find the words to explain that to her without sounding like a complete asshole. 

@krxkyungsoo

Joohyun knows Kyungsoo for as long time, maybe not as long as she can remember but it’s definitely something close to that. He was one of her first friends nonetheless, someone who she still has a very close relationship to this day, someone she thought she could trust with her life and some more. Joohyun isn’t stupid and knows that Kyungsoo is a man of many secrets, things he prefers to keep for himself because he’s reserved like that. Not with her. Maybe because she was there with him and she’s in one way or another part of those secrets too, maybe because she has always been able to read Kyungsoo like a book, maybe because she’s part of Kyungsoo’s heart as much as he’s part of hers, maybe because they’re the closest thing to a sibling they’ll ever have.

That’s why this whole thing tears her apart so much.

Joohyun gets it that Kyungsoo isn’t obligated to tell her everything, knows how protective he is of her and he’d rather die than let anything happen to her, but this. This concerned her, this is something that she should’ve known so long ago and he by no means had any right to keep it from her no matter how much she’d cry, how much it’d hurt her.

( How much a part of her already knew something like this had happened )

She feels betrayed. A little. Because she thought Kyungsoo would understand, would tell her because then she’d be given the chance to mourn, to have a closure of her own, would give her at least that since the world decided it’d be fun to take away everything else. Her family. Her best friend. Her freedom.

Joohyun feels like in a soap opera, like those housewives who discover their husbands cheated on them and now they go to their house to confront them, break an expensive vase or two, call them a liar and a manwhore, throw their things out of the window and achieve a whole new level of scandal. But Joohyun is quieter, she’s more upset than actually angry and when she looks at Kyungsoo, there’s disappointment, betrayal, hurt in her eyes but no anger. Joohyun doesn’t throw things at him, doesn’t ruin his laptop with years worth of work on it, doesn’t slap him on the face, doesn’t scream at him. Her tone is quiet, tired, broken. Just a little.

“My parents are dead.” She tells him, hands clenched in fist. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

There’s probably no one that Kyungsoo knows better than Joohyun. They grew up together, their parents held a close relationship with each other, confided and trusted one another. But most importantly, they shared the same secrets ad similar concerns that were never mentioned to the children. Not to Joohyun, not to Kyungsoo or at least not for a long time. 

The death of Kyugsoo’s father is a landmark in the man’s life, strong enough that even to this day it is hard for him to disassociate from what happened. He knows that his death was not his fault, now he knows that, but he didn’t know before. Blaming the unknown was too hard when he had something that could tell him what was about to happen, but that he couldn’t understand. Knowing that he couldn’t do anything to prevent the outcome had worked, in a way, to soothe his pain, but he knows he could have made the best out of the time he had (and he didn’t). Joohyun on the other hand, didn’t have any warning. 

The whole story is a mess, too complicated to be explained with simple words and a few minutes of chatting, but he doesn’t expect that conversation to have place this soon. It’s been ten years, his brain supplies, it’s far from ‘too soon’, he’s had ten years to tell her and he didn’t. He has no excuse for that, so he doesn’t know how to react when he is faced with the reality and when the girl has facts to support her questions. He should feel grateful that she is there in the first place, asking.

He sets the book he’s holding aside, his keys rest on top of its dark cover. He just got home, he’s hardly even prepared for what is coming.

“We don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. Heck, you don’t even have to show up but— I ruined your race, right? So it’s only right that ruin my schedule too until it’d be the equivalent to what i owe.” He gets a little clumsy with the word “equivalent”, utters twice before he can get it out properly, but it’s a pretty word and Jongin knows that pretty words give a lot more of effect. For the first time in that night, he looks hopefully at Dio, like a puppy anxious to know if he’ll get a treat or punishment. 

If you can’t pay me in cash, then why are we having this conversation in the first place?” he shoots immediately. He didn’t even listen to a third of what Jongin has to say and he is already shooting every hypothesis down. If he can’t give him money, then what can he give him that Kyungsoo wants? Kyungsoo has seen the mark on Jongin’s shoulder despite allowing his eyes to go over it quickly and in passing as he was raising his eyes to look at the escort. Nothing of that appeals to him right now, he’s not sure if that’s where Jongin is going but if it is, he’s about to get a big fat no. The last thing he needs is to be trading money for whatever the other has to offer. Honestly, Kyungsoo is so close to ask him if he’s planning on paying with his body, but he is too educated to elaborate such a sentence and actually voice it out.

“I thought you guys made big bucks” He says that while generalizing as much as he can, speaking of ‘them’ as those in the same field of work as the male sitting next to him. Kyungsoo doesn’t mean for his question to sound derrogatory, he’s just voicing out his thoughts. It’s not like he knows how things actually work.

He looks at the laptop because it is directed towards him. Honestly, he can’t see shit without his reading glasses, so Jongin may as well have written his will on those slides that Kyungsoo won’t know. He indulges him for a moment instead of taking out his glasses to actually make an effort and maybe that akes him an asshole, but empathy towards strangers was never his forte. He pretends to see, hums once because Jongin is kind enough to explain whatever plan he conceived and then he frowns. His forehead gets a few extra wrinkles with the action, but he doesn’t care.

“Wait. So, because you made me lose money, your solution to make it up to me is ‘allowing’ you to lose money as well? Why does that make any sense in your head, can you explain that to me?” he doesn’t wait for the explanation though.

 “I-i… I just need a minute…” she said more so to herself than anyone else. She took another step back and turned on her heel. She trips over a piece of equipment, her head spinning wildly. The face of her friend appeared in front of her, worry etched on her face but Soojung’s gaze briefly flicked over to the man to see his reaction to her little spectacle. 

Kyungsoo can see the moment she recognizes him in her eyes so clearly. Inwardly, he was expecting it, almost anxious to see her reaction, as if he needed to be any more of a masochist than he already is. Maybe it’s cruel, but there is something he likes about her bewildered expression. She hasn’t changed and he hasn’t either, physically that is, he would have looked at her and recognized her anywhere like she did. Except he didn’t need to look at her. Her voice did the trick for him, which should tell him something but he doesn’t want to hear it. 

It’s not hard to pretend for him, he is a good actor, he can put up a front like no one, remain stoic if he wants to, polite, try not to hurt susceptibilities and appear nice, but he doesn’t want to at the moment. That’s not how he planned their first meeting to play out. In fact, he didn’t plan that at all, he was certain that a first meeting after their ugly breakup would simply not play out. He would go all of his life without laying eyes on her ever again like she told him to do and Kyungsoo, like the man of his word that he is, executed her command efficiently up until that moment.    

He goes up, gets his laptop like he promised he’d do before going back down, sitting on the couch next. “I can’t pay you” Jongin is almost squirming by the stare that Dio has on him. “But I can offer you a deal.” 

Jongin is stalling, Kyungsoo realizes that as soon as the guy opens his mouth. Truth be told, he is good at taking hints, but Jongin is not even leaving hints, he is blatantly displaying everything, from the way he moves, to the way he speaks. First of all, he’s nervous. He stutters too much, he doesn’t finish sentences, he gets lost in his own thoughts, doesn’t keep a train of thought for longer than a couple of seconds. He has been pulling at his sweater’s sleeves ever since he opened the door, displaying his nervousness so obviously that is almost painful for Kyungsoo to watch. Everything in Jongin’s attitude is foreboding, giving Kyungsoo the vague feeling that he has gone there for nothing. Not even his will to finish Jongin’s sentence into perhaps accepting whatever he was going to offer him to drink when he tried to ask before going silence is there anymore. Fine, he will go without anything and yes, he will sit on the couch just to see what bullshit Jongin has to throw at him. 

He rolls his eyes before he moves towards the piece of furniture he is directed at, exhales lowly, despite being sure that Jongin can hear him doing so. It’s intentional after all.  He follows Jongin until he disappears into the upper part of his apartment and looks around for a moment. The apartment is nice, actually. It’s spacious and charming although he doubts that the decor is Jongin’s doing. Kyungsoo imagines that the apartment had been previously furnished and decorated before the man moved in like it usually happens with apartment complexes such as those. Kyungsoo likes big houses. Actually, scratch that, he likes huge houses, probably out of habit not having lived in what some of his friends call “cozy apartments’.

Kyungsoo tucks the round pillow he finds behind his back to place it aside, leaning back and almost comfortably, as if he is not waiting to be thoroughly disappointed by whatever Jongin has for him.  The man comes back shortly after. Kyungsoo is busy dusting off his pants with one hand, typing something out with his other hand. The cushion dips with the weigh of Jongin’s body and Kyungsoo’s hope for a good day sinks with it. 

Baekhyun perks up as he hears the voice of a faceless stranger yelling for his friend to get ready, and he feels relief as he remembers the chill rattling his bones, absentmindedly rubbing at his lower arm in a fruitless attempt to warm up just a little. It’s why he steps closer to envelop Kyungsoo in a hug immediately as contact is offered, patting his back gently; he has never been someone with any regard for personal space, and they’ve known each other for long enough to know that Kyungsoo wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with it. “You better not disappoint… I didn’t come all the way here to watch you lose for the first time ever.”

“I don’t mind treating you every time so you may as well take advantage of that and eat all you want. Gotta ruin that nonexistent diet of yours, right?” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes dramatically, landing his fist on the other’s arm albeit lightly “That’s what preferential treatment feels like, you get to hear nice things and say that Do Kyungsoo complimented you. It’s an honor considering my reputation, I’ll let you know that.”

For those who know Kyungsoo from the tracks alone or who never spent time enough with him, the photographer is just a coldhearted guy who didn’t care much about anyone. He doesn’t talk much, to begin with, and maybe he carries himself with a certain poise that would make many think he was born out of royalty. Cocky, mean, apathetic, he’s heard them all enough times to give him an idea, but at the same time, there is no one who attempts any defiance when talking to him. There is a silent respect that is not conducted by fear and that he accomplished by simply being himself. With Baekhyun, the difference is from night to day. The bartender is easy and carefree, comfortable around Kyungsoo as only friends who have known each other for years on end would be. Fifteen years do make quite a difference when it comes to having Kyungsoo be less guarded and much more at ease. He smiles at him, encourages Baekhyun’s playful personality, doesn’t shy away from hugs and even asks for them which is something he wouldn’t do with someone he is not comfortable with. 

“When do I ever? Don’t worry, I’m here to put on a show and be ever so predictable with my victory. Plus, you’re just like me, you hate to lose, you wouldn’t let me sabotage it even if I wanted to. Think of what you want for dinner, I’ll be back in a bit.” He places a hand on Baekhyun’s head then, purposefully dishevelling his hair before turning around and walking away. “Wish me luck!” 

They’re also still shaking when he goes to answer the doo and he swears he tries to smile like he normally would, praying that Dio won’t ask and will just act like nothing is wrong, that Jongin isn’t weird even if Jongin can feel it in himself right to his bones. “Hey, you came.” 

The thing he hates the most is when people make him waste his time, or so he would say if anyone would ask at that moment. In fact, there are so many times he hates about people that is hard to enumerate them all. Right now, the waste of his time ranks high because it’s exactly what Jongin is doing and the only thing that is playing to his favor is the fact that he actually called before Kyungsoo left the house. All in all, it shouldn’t even count as a favorable point since it was Kyungsoo who called first, probably anticipating some kind of avoidance from the other. He doesn’t come up with an excuse, but doe ask him to visit instead. He swears if that is an excuse to get Kyungsoo in his apartment for other reasons other than paying what he owes, that someone is going to die too soon. He agrees to the meeting, whatelse is he going to do? It’s his money after all, he’ll collect it and go.

There is no need to ask for directiong, he knows where Jongin lives after all, but maybe he should have asked for the floor and door number. He doesn’t feel like calling the guy just for that so he presses the button for the first floor and asks the person who responds. The neighbor is useful enough to tell him which is the correct floor and door and even buzzes the door open for him. Kyungsoo is surprised by the willingness, he could very whell be a serial killer or a robber, but those people just don’t care enough to be careful.  He pushes the door open, looks around to locate the elevator and goes in along with a girl he doesn’t know. He holds the door open for her and lets her push the button first like a true gentleman would, pushing a different button himself right after. He leaves first, walking down the corridor and looking up to locate the right door. He looks down at the mat outside the apartment door, glares at the smiley face it has and rolls his eyes. Who the hell has a doormat with a smiley emoji on it? He spromptly steps on it, making sure his leather shoes cover all of its yellow happiness completely and knocks.

It’s been only two seconds but Kyungsoo is already tired of waiting. Fortunately, Jongin answers to end his misery, finding him finishing typing a text on his phone. He looks up to find somoene who would look as if they just rolled out of bed if it wasn’t for his wet hair. Jongin doesn’t look like he’s in a very good mood but that’s not Kyungsoo’s business. 

“You asked me to.” 

The small voice in her is trying so hard to place this spirit but she’s throwing out any suggested answers as quickly as possible. It’s not safe to make presumption here and Jieun needs to stay alive if she’s ever going to find out how to get back to Seoul. Still, she yearns to know more amongst her censorship. “Why do you ask?”

He has seen so much since he arrived, heard so much that he is not sure how to process. The fact is that he can’t help but walk on eggshells around everyone. He has been doing nothing but observing, silently coming to an understanding of what his position is and how people treat him around there.He knows what eunuchs are but his misconceptions don’t even get near to the perception of what this man, who’s skin he’s wearing now, has accomplished. His closeness to the royal family seems to have been earned. To what extent he has gone to get it, he doesn’t want to know, but all it matters to him is how fate has a way to play with him.

Through a few stolen glances, he has taken the sight of the woman in front of him. Her clothes are regal, her posture, dignified. She is a queen in every sense of the word even though her current title fails to adjust to what he thinks suits her best. Under the laws of the land, she will never be queen, not like the prince’s wife will be in the future. She will be her king’s queen, but at a time when unification is in the horizon and kingdoms are coming together under one power, is very unlikely that her title ever goes beyond that one of princess, consort at best. He thinks it’s unfair. 

“I will always care about you, princess.” spoken like a true and loyal servant, even if he is to favor a different lady, one who shares her bloodline, but certainly not her spirit. He doesn’t want to be unfair, so he stops his train of thought only to rejoice over her prompt reply. The expectance had been big, but he knew he was not wrong after he set eyes on her, earlier outside the gardens.

She walked out from behind the large black curtain which served as their makeshift changing room wearing a red A-line jean skirt and a cream coloured shirt, coupled with a dark soft denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up effortlessly a few times and were finished with her dainty white sneakers. Soojung dashed to the photographer who still looked busy with his equipment. “Hi, I’m Krystal. I’m sorry for being super-duper late. My prior commitments went over time and well yes… I tried to get here as fast as I could. I’m actually the designer and the model for this shoot. It’s nice to meet you!” Soojung stuck her hand out to the photographer in greeting, slightly nervous of his reaction. She was aware of the change in photographers and was not entirely sure how this person worked but a very clear warning given by her original photographer friend rung in her head “He doesn’t like late people, so you make sure you get there early…”. She was off to a great start.

Kyungsoo is a rational person, he does not believe in coincidences. That being said, he can only assume he’s been set up. He was ready to sigh and go with it once the model or client, arrived. No one has any sense of punctuality anyway, why would this girl be an exception? She isn’t, surely, but she also isn’t what he expects her to be: a stranger. Instead, someone is throwing a curve ball at him, placing someone he’d rather avoid in his path once again. Then again, it was her who kicked him out of her life, to begin with, so the question of who was avoiding who remains a mystery. 

Her voice has him wanting to pick up everything he finished setting up, grab his bag and leave. He only doesn’t, because that would be awfully unprofessional of him. He doesn’t want to look like he cares. He doesn’t. He absolutely doesn’t. 

She is nothing but endless chatter, quirky remarks, and gentle smiles. She walks with weightless grace, looking like a teenager without really meaning to or so Kyungsoo observes, from the corner of his eye. He’d be preoccupied with setting the tripod, scrunching his face at the simple scenario. He hates studio photoshoots.  He uses his distaste for everything in that moment, breathes in before setting his camera and turning around. Maybe it’s just his imagination, but he can swear he sees realization written all over her face. 

“skyhall apartments, please,” sungkyung repeats. “i live on the second floor.” then, a laugh escapes her as she says, “oh shit, i’m not supposed to say this to strangers. whoops.” 

“then again,” she continues, eyes still closed. “it’s not like we’re going to see each other again, mr. taxi driver…” her voice trailed off as she turned her face slightly to the side, feeling a little too hot. “hey, do you mind if i roll down the windows a bit?” it was probably negative ten degrees, but she hardly cared.

Why did he think the night would go without incidents? Why did he think that meeting that guy at the club tonight was a good idea. Clearly, he was setting himself up for disaster and what a recipe for disaster this kid sounds. The slurred words come out with the strong scent of alcohol that was quick to invade Kyungsoo’s nostrils. He doesn’t even want to ask how much the girl drank - it’s not his business anyway.

His eyes do get abnormally large though, at the detailed information, at the quick laughter and more mumbled words. This is the work for someone who is compassionate and worries about girls too drunk to know what they are saying or what they are doing. For all its worth, Kyungsoo could very well be a bad person - which is actually relative because he is kind of bad on his book.

He’d been ready to put the address on the GPS just in case, to see where it would lead them but he knows that apartment complex very well. The reality that they are actually neighbors dawns on him so he racks his mind to think about the possibility of them having met before. Maybe he held the elevator door for her once, a LONG time ago? He looks through the rear mirror once again only to conclude that no, they haven’t bumped into each other or he would have remembered her. Bbeauty like that has a tendency to catch his attention and maybe something else in her, but he may be mistaken. 

He’s probably going to regret that for the rest of his life, dramatic demeanor be damned, he should have called a real taxi for her and leave the driver to deal with her, but he’s already about to  reverse and drive off. 

“By all means, do. The last thing I’d want would be for you to feel sick back there” He may sound gentle and courteous, but really, those simply translate into don’t you dare throw up on my leather seats, you’ll die if you do. Priorities are important after all and Do Kyungsoo surely has them.

There were still shards of ceramic scattered on the floor. She was just beginning to find her footing in this world, understanding all the duties and dynamics that came with whatever twisted fate she’d wound up in. In fact, Princess JiSoo rung quite nicely. Perhaps it was the sign she was getting too comfortable. 

Court-ladies had entered her room once more, carrying assortments of tea, garments, and hairpins. Her handmaiden, Su-ae, requested she sit for tea and “information from the king”, which Jieun obliged too. The princess let Su-ae drone on her list as she lifted the jade-green cup to her lips. The cup slipped between her fingers, shattering between the two. She’s trying to comprehend her next royal duty. 

“Marriage.” 

Without further comment, she requests to be left alone. Jieun doesn’t know how to respond to this quite yet; on one hand this isn’t her life and she shouldn’t care. On the other, if she’s stuck here for good, Jieun can’t stomach being stuck in an arranged marriage under a man so foreign to her in age and likeness. Is it worth fighting such a battle? 

A voice on the outside soothes her on some level, so she lets the disembodied voice enter. “Yes, of course.” The princess watches as a man she doesn’t recognise - but certainly knows - come into her room. Her eyes are wide and brimming with questions she doesn’t know how to articulate so she waits for him to break the silence. 

He does not think much of his actions, perhaps because he is doing it on instinct, but he wonders why is it that said instinct kicks in. He is compelled somehow, thinking that perhaps that world is making him delve too much into matters that are not his. In a way, he wonders if that is the trick. If they have, in fact, travelled to a previous time and date, if they are indeed in an ancient time that they have only read about, he knows they are not supposed to change anything. However, the moment he is given permission to enter the chambers and sets his eyes on the princess, something changes. 

He lowers his eyes soon after, not daring to meet her gaze immediately for fear that he is mistaken about her. Maybe she is real, as in someone meant to live in that time, someone royal, someone important, someone with the power to kill him with one word only. Kyungsoo has a special gift though, whether he likes it or not to have the spirit of a god who is clearly telling him that the person across from him is an equal. It does not make the slightest sense to him, but he could swear he can smell roses on her, he can swear he can see more than the different curve of her eyes. It’s the body of a stranger with the soul that screams home.

“I am sorry, I had to come.” He tells her “I was informed that you were not well.”

He is beating around the bush, trying to find the words to articulate the questions he wants to ask her. No matter how certain he is of the woman’s (real) identity, he would rather be a hundred percent sure. Meanwhile the god in him probably facepalms every time he doubts himself or his ability to read everyone’s soul like an open book.