KAY

room 001 — the wedding play by @izzyy-stuff

・❥・You wouldn’t say lying comes easy to you. Especially not when you’re surrounded by people you care so deeply about. But when you’re forced into a corner, there is nothing left for you to do but to lie your way out, dragging an innocent server down with you. Luckily for you, Soobin, the ever so helpful server, is more than willing to make your time here enjoyable. So what if he has to attend a wedding for people he’s never met before? As lon as he’s by your side, he doesn’t mind anything you throw his way.

pairing → server!Soobin x fem!reader genre → romcom, fake dating, strangers to friends to lovers

teaser | full fic

room 002 — Mr. incompetent by @nanilis

・❥・The chairman’s son. Corporate’s golden boy. Future executive. Your newest shadow. You’d call Choi Yeonjun many things. Unfortunately… “Completely useless” turns out not to be one of them.

pairing → hotel owner’s son!yeonjun x events manager!f reader genre → workplace romance, enemies (kind of) to lovers, slow burn

teaser | full fic

room 003 — obessica by @gyuzies

・❥・beomgyu who happens to be your best friend and the bartender at the hotel you work at together, and the guy who rearranges your gut when nobody is looking. I mean its just sex — you're looking out for him, so when his 'situationship' comes into the bar and you 'accidentally' spill a drink on her, beomgyu has absolutely no choice but to deal with you the only way he knows how — fuck the attitude out of ya!

pairing → bartender!beomgyu x server!reader genre → fwb to lovers, jealousy, coworkers to lovers

teaser | full fic

room 004 — driftwood by @filmsbyun

・❥・"I'm giving you all of me so I can hold you better." His lips brushed over yours as the barest touch. "Please don't hurt me." You had always been good at hiding. Good enough that people eventually stopped asking where you had gone. When your friend convinced you to trade your penthouse and your solitude for a fortnight at his family's resort, you reluctantly agreed with little expectation beyond filling empty days. That was before you met Kang Taehyun, who was not looking for love any more than you were. Two people with no intention of being found placed inside the same snow globe. That, as it turns out, is not the same as not being found.

pairing → lounge singer!Kang Taehyun x afab!reader genre → slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers

teaser | full fic

room 005 — a mater of taste by @orbitondgtl

・❥・As a chef in a resort and the reigns completely in your hands, you were exactly where you needed to be. Food was the central point of your life. It was your way of expressing yourself, but like a language that people never truly got. That was until a receptionist and his lunch request unlocked undiscovered feelings. And they were like nothing you'd ever tasted before.

pairing → receptionist!kai x chef!fem!reader genre → coworkers to lovers, feel-good, culinary romance

teaser | full fic

Chan was – how your father called him once – exuberant. When you wanted to sit down because you were growing tired, he kept you on your feet with his excitement alone. You seemed to forget you were tired the second your hands laced together. He always kept your energy levels high and no moment with him was boring. 

Chan was – how you heard the king and Queen say to your father – perfectly obedient and easy to deal with. You had never asked what they meant with that, but you knew that he never said no. Frankly, you grew bored of that by the second time you played with him and told him that you liked to have friends who knew what game they wanted to play.  

You thought of Chan as a good friend. Someone that was always in a good mood and was much more interesting than the friends your mother made you have. She hadn’t been happy that your father immersed you into his world, but one day she magically stopped complaining about it. She was happy to bring you to the castle so you could search for him there. 

Not that you weren’t happy she stopped nagging you about embroidery, but her switch-up was weird. Your brother had looked at her weird as well when he left with your father. 

You’d given up your search when you entered castle grounds, instead drawing to Chan who was playing outside with a ball. His older brother Seokmin was there as well, standing in between two poles, one above his head. A net was attached to the upper one, slammed into the ground with two wooden pins. 

Chan called out your name and waved. The ball was under his arm, reflecting in the sun. 

You greeted them both with a bow. “Good afternoon, your Royal Highnesses. What are you playing?” 

“Kickball!” Chan answered with a smile. 

You tilted your head with a frown. 

“Look!” He put the ball down and took a couple of steps back. “Are you ready, Seokmin?”

Seokmin clasped his hands together in response.

You watched how Chan ran towards the ball and kicked it. It flew through the air with incredible speed and force, right over Seokmin’s head into the net. 

“That seems unfair, sir,” you commented as the oldest kicked the ball back to Chan. “Prince Seokmin could barely reach it.”

“You should really stop calling me ‘sir’. We’re friends, remember?” Chan beamed at you. “And that’s the point! The poles form a goal and if the ball hits the net, I score a point. This is my second goal out of five tries.” 

“And how many tries do you have left?”

“Three.”

You snickered. 

Chan pointed at the ball. “Would you like to try?”

“Okay.” You stood behind the ball when he stepped away and looked at it. You looked back at Seokmin, who had his arms spread out sideways. You took a couple of big strides backwards, ran towards the ball and kicked with the toe of your shoe. A sharp pain stung through your foot. You muttered underneath your breath and grabbed your foot, hopping around on the other. 

Behind you, Chan ran up to you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, but kicking hurts.” 

He chuckled. “You should kick with the instep.” He slapped the top of his foot. “Right there.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you grumbled and put your foot back down, stepping aside. “I’ll leave the kicking to you, sir.” 

“Stop that.” 

You shrugged. “I need to call you that. My parents say that it’s protocol.” 

“I’m eight. I’m no sir.” Chan pointed at Seokmin. “He is ten. Is he a sir?”

“No, thank you!” Seokmin called out, to which you giggled. 

The youngest turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder, your name rolling off his lips. “Point is, we are friends. I don’t want you to call me sir. It feels weird.” He shuddered. “Enough people in this palace call me that. I don’t get why Jihoon likes it.” 

Seokmin jogged up to you. “Speaking of.” 

You peeled away from the princes and watched the king coming up to you, Jihoon on his right side and your father on his left. You tilted your head with a hum before you bowed. “Your Majesty,” you muttered to the king, who smiled in approval and greeted you back. You bowed again before you addressed Jihoon. “Your Royal Highness.” 

Jihoon’s eyes were completely empty as they scanned you up and down. He paid you no further mind, his gaze drifting away into the distance. 

You locked eyes with your father, who gave you a reassuring nod. “I’m not in trouble am I?” 

From the king came a warm chuckle. “Of course not, child.” 

At least he was able to smile and laugh. Jihoon couldn’t. Ever. 

“I have just informed your father that I require your future services,” he spoke. 

You stared at him. 

“Your father won’t be Prince Chan’s guard forever and I am delighted to see that you keep him such good company,” the king clarified and crossed his hands behind the back of his green jacket, a cloak hanging off one shoulder. “You’re going to be his guard when you’re both grown up and your father will assume another position in this Court.” 

Your eyebrows raised. “Really? Me?” 

“Your father and I think it much more suitable for you to become a guard instead of a maid, or a lady-in-waiting.” He placed a hand on your father’s shoulder. “Your family has been a longtime friend of ours, after all, and we hope to be able to continue that through your generation.”

You bowed. “That is my greatest honour, your Majesty. I thank you.” You looked at him. “May I ask, why me and not my brother?”

“Elian will assume another position in our Court,” the king spoke, nodding at Jihoon. “A personal advisor to our future heir.” He excused himself – in his words – ‘to attend to other business’, and walked away with Jihoon following on his trail. 

Your father bowed to you. “And you’re a better fighter, but don’t tell your brother,” he whispered. He winked at you before he stepped back, bowing his head at Chan. “You may resume your playtime, your Royal Highness. I will be here when you need my assistance.”

“Thank you, Clement!” Chan beamed at him before he waved his older brother back into the goal. You’d played the afternoon away and on personal invitation from the Royal Family, stayed for supper. 

You joined your father and brother at the large table, seated right across from Chan. Elian sat next to Jihoon in silence, his eyes not leaving his plate. Your father was on his other end, in deep conversation with the king at the head of the table. If you were to believe him, they’d been friends since they were children, just like you and Chan, and your grandfathers before that. Like the king said before, the friendship was lifelong and it dated back a long time. 

Too long for you to comprehend. 

“Mother?” Chan’s soft tones rang in your ears. 

You looked up and glanced aside at the Queen, her expression almost as empty as Jihoon’s. You had no trouble believing she was a good mother, she just wasn’t like yours. Your mother’s warmth wrapped around you the second you stepped foot inside the house, she didn’t even need to be in the room for that. She wasn’t the Queen, whose eyes reflected the feeling of having the world on her shoulders. 

That was what you heard your mother say to your father once, when you were supposed to be in bed. 

“Yes, dear?” She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Can we play outside for a little longer? The weather’s very nice today.” 

She stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to it. “You’ll stay in this garden so we don’t have to retrieve you from the other side of the palace again, yes?” 

Chan nodded and smiled at her. “Okay.” 

“Then you can play outside after supper.” 

He locked eyes with you and his smile grew. “Are you staying after supper?”

You looked over at your father before turning back to him. “I think so. Father doesn’t seem to be finished anytime soon.” 

“We have prepared a chamber for you,” the Queen told you. “Your father has a long day, and we wouldn’t want to inconvenience your mother or scare her by sending a royal carriage her way.” 

You bowed your head at her with a smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I appreciate your hospitality.”

She chuckled, although it sounded emptier than the king’s. “Where have you been learning such words, dear?”

“Father.”

“Of course, where else?” 

You offered her a smile as you thanked the staff for dessert. It felt wrong to leave your plate on the table instead of bringing it to the kitchen when you were finished – you didn’t even know where the kitchen was – but you had no time to dwell on it as Chan dragged you outside. He picked up a wooden sword and gave you the other with a bow. “M’lady.” 

“Flatterer,” you teased and took it from him with a bow. You gripped the handle and held it in front of you. 

Your father told you the first time he gave you a wooden sword that it was rather a dance than a fight. When your opponent took a step forward, you took one backwards. Stepping sideways and you mirrored that. It was quick and reactionary, unlike a waltz.

Chan held his sword close, putting the weight on his heels as if he was going to back off. 

When your opponent defended, you striked. 

You shot forward, the wood clashing together in a familiar rhythm. There was a fun game in letting him believe that he was leading, going wherever he went. He fell for it every time and you really assumed that he knew better that time around. 

You brought him off balance and held the sword to his neck with a smile. “Gotcha.” 

Chan pouted. “Man, I was doing so well.” 

You retreated your sword and bowed. “Let’s go again. As a revanche.” 

Something fell in the grass with a thud. You snapped up and watched Chan looking past you. His eyes were blown wide, his hands trying to clutch the folds of his brown pants. He took a couple of steps backwards and his eyes darted to you. “I need to go.” 

“Are you okay?”

“I… I didn’t realise it was getting so late already.” He visibly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. “I need to go.” 

You didn’t have a chance to react, watching how he ran back inside. Your sword dangled by your side as you swallowed the tears. Chan never ran away like that. Was he upset with you? Maybe you should’ve let him win, but maybe that would make him even more upset. 

Someone called your name and you looked at the doorway. 

The Queen smiled. “Let’s play a board game with Elian and Seokmin. How does that sound?” 

You nodded and picked the other sword up from the grass, strolling inside. You wanted to ask about Chan, but you bit your tongue. You doubted you wanted to know the answer anyway. 

You were glad your mother had given up on the delicate, ladylike appearance she wanted you to make. She would have a heart attack if she saw you in the gardens with Chan, your hair so messy it could be a bird’s nest and the bottom of your dress completely covered in dirt. So were your boots. Which were recently polished. 

You ditched your swords for a wrestling match, but every time you nearly had him to his knees, Chan found a way to bring you down first. After the fifth round – you lost all five – your lungs burned and your hands ached when you stretched your fingers. 

Chan grinned at you and blew a lock out of his face. “You don’t like giving up, don’t you?”

His voice had dropped even lower since the last time you saw him. You teased him whenever his voice cracked because it sounded funny. The same happened to Elian when he was fourteen so you expected it to happen to every boy. 

“Giving up is not in my nature, no,” you said and rolled your shoulders back. “Again. It can’t be that you beat me so easily.” 

His grin grew and he took his stance, waving his hands. “Come on,” he said, calling your name in a challenging tone. 

You charged at him, but he grabbed your arm before you could stop. With a flip right over his shoulder, you slammed into the ground. A sharp pain shot through your back, a groan rolling off your lips. 

“Gods,” you heard Chan muttering before he popped in your sight, hovering over you. “Are you alright?” 

“You body slammed me into the grass, but other than that I’m fine.” You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. “How are you so strong, though?”

He rubbed his neck. “I don’t know I had it in me.” 

You arched an eyebrow, but left the subject to rest. You stared up at the sky, watching the clouds pass you by while the pain in your back ebbed away. 

Looking back up at Chan, you spoke again. “I thought a prince like you had more manners than leaving a lady on the ground after injuring her.” 

Chan scrambled himself together and helped you back to your feet. His eyes scanned you curiously. “Are you really alright, though?” 

“I’m fine,” you answered with a smile. “My back will probably be sore tomorrow, but I’m more concerned about mother’s reaction when she sees my dress.” You looked down before looking back up at him. 

“Maybe you should stop wearing dresses, then.” He extended a hand with a grin. “Let us find your mother. She can’t be far.” 

Because you and Elian were going to assume positions in the future, your mother was given one as well and you all moved into the palace. She worked in the kitchen and you were delighted that the Royal Family enjoyed her cuisine as much as you did when you still lived at home. 

Since it was midday, your mother was in the kitchen preparing afternoon bites, taking a fresh tray off the fire when you came in. Chan followed and the personnel bowed when he stood in the kitchen, including your mother. He greeted everyone cheerfully.

Your mother’s smile faded when her eyes landed on your dress. 

“Our wrestling match got a little out of hand,” you explained and shot her a sweet smile. “I’ll wash it myself, I promise.” 

“And I expect you to freshen up.” She waved her hand at your hair. “You can’t present yourself at supper like this tonight.”

Behind you, Chan snorted. 

“This is the last time you’ll go outside in a dress, before you don’t have any left,” your mother continued and waved you away. “Out of the way, pumpkin. These pastries need to be on the garden table in half an hour and I’m nowhere near done.”

“Apologies for the interruption, miss,” Chan apologised with a bow. “That would be my fault.” 

“No need for apologies, Your Highness.” 

You dragged him out of the kitchen and made your way towards the hallway. 

“I’ll be waiting for you in the drawing room.” 

“Which of the five?” You lifted the bottom of your dress up and started walking. 

He chuckled. “The one in this wing. Or shall I hide in one of them so you can come look for me?” 

You looked over your shoulder, where he flashed you a grin. “You’re a funny one, aren’t you?” 

Chan bowed, watching as you disappeared into the staff’s wing. 

You passed your father, who bellowed a laugh. “What happened to you?”

“Chan beat me in a wrestling match,” you answered and dropped your dress. “Six times.”

His eyes held a glimmer of amusement. “I see. Your mother must have been delighted to see you like this.”

“I need to freshen up, and wash my dress.” You brushed the folds with a hum. “Father, have you noticed that Chan is particularly… strong? For his age?”

His leg twitched, eying you with a small smile. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” you answered. “I just think it’s odd that he can throw me over his shoulder by my arm. With ease.”

“I see.” He scanned you up and down. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him and excused yourself. If there was someone who knew more, it would be your father. Maybe you were actually reading more into it than there was and Chan was just incredibly strong.

He didn’t quite look the part, but you digressed. 

That wasn’t the only instance you caught him acting weird. You hadn’t forgotten about the night he ran off six years prior, nor had you forgotten all the times after that. Since you lived in the castle, you noticed it was a regular occurrence, but only periodically. You hadn’t figured out the exact time frame, but you’d waited until he would magically disappear again, running off with a half-assed excuse. 

So you counted the days, which turned into weeks. 

Four weeks, accounting to about twenty-nine days. When you found out the first time, you waited for the next period to begin, just to see if it would differ. The second time around was the same so the third time couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. 

What was even stranger was that your father would return to his chambers only the following morning. You were sure it should not be happening, but you pretended that you did not see him there. 

When you were outside in the garden with Chan, enjoying the late summer sun setting behind the castle, he scrambled up. He suddenly remembered he was supposed to help his mother with preparations for the annual ball and ran off. 

You got up and returned to your chambers, waiting out the time it took for your father to emerge. You knew he would be in there after supper every twenty-nine days, probably resting up for the night ahead. 

And just before your bedtime, he passed by your room. He peeked inside and smiled at you. “Good night, pumpkin.” 

“Good night.”  

When he resumed his walk, you slipped out and went after him. He walked down the stairs without skipping any steps, but with a sense of urgency that made it hard to keep up. He navigated through the palace, all the way to the north wing where the Royal Family resided. 

Suddenly, he pushed the door open that brought him to the basement. 

Your throat narrowed. You never liked the basement, based on the stories that your father told you. You were sure that he wanted to scare you off and it worked. You bit through the dread seeping into your bones and followed him down. 

As quietly as you could, you tiptoed down the stairs. Your father’s voice neared when you walked through the dark corridor. When your eyes adjusted, you saw his torch in the distance and sped up. 

You heard the echoes of Chan’s screams clear as day, but there was an overlay. Growling, almost… unhuman.

As your heart pulsed in your ears, you took small steps forward. 

“I don’t know if these chains will hold anymore, Clement,” you heard the king. There was a thick layer of concern over his voice, one he usually managed to suppress. “He’s getting stronger.”

“We have to try, Jiu,” your father replied calmly. “And otherwise, we have to lock him up for the night.”

Your stomach twisted. Chains, locking him up. You couldn’t imagine anything more sickening than that. 

As your eyes were truly adjusted, you realised that you were standing in the old cell block. Your father and the king were right outside one of the cells, and you had no trouble imagining that Chan was inside. 

The overlay got worse, blending with his voice like there was no distinction anymore. The chains rattled so loudly that you covered your ears. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you committed. You had to find out what all of this was about. 

Both the king and your father stepped inside so you moved closer. You were pressed against the stone wall, the cold travelling up your back. You were one peek away from discovering the truth. After months of silently tracking their movements, you knew why Chan had been acting strange. Why none of his lies were ever adding up. 

You took a deep breath and placed your hands on the edge of the wall. Your heart throbbed as if it had sharp edges slicing into your ribcage, lynching you from the inside out. You stuck your head around the corner and the sight made your breath hitch. 

Chan was chained to the wall by his hand and feet, his eyes glowing a faint white. He was baring his teeth at his father and yours. He wriggled on the chains and you saw paste crumbling down from the walls. 

The two men walked out of the cells and froze in their tracks when they saw you. 

Chan was in full view. The blood vessels in his face had turned black and the sweat built on his forehead, his chest rising and falling in big motions. He looked at you with a growl. An actual, spine-chillingly unhuman growl.  

You gulped and stepped back. The next thing you knew was the blood that landed on your face and night gown. It was all over the walls of the cell, as if he painted them with it. 

In Chan’s spot was a beast, slender and rising far above you. He’d broken free from the chains and howled when his white eyes locked with yours, baring his teeth again. 

Someone dragged you by the arm and threw the door of the cell shut. A key twisted into the lock while you were taken away. Footsteps sounded behind you, combined with the growling and howling of a beast that made it clear you were going against the laws of nature. 

As if it should roam free. 

“Let’s clean you up, my child,” the warm tones of the king sounded in the distance. “You’re covered in blood.” 

A sour taste hit the back of your throat and the saliva built up in your mouth. “I feel sick,” you heard yourself say. In the bucket that the king gave you, you emptied your stomach to the point of tears. 

Without asking, he took you to the drawing room and sat you down. “Let me retrieve someone for a new nightgown.” 

“I don’t care about a new nightgown,” you croaked. “What is going on with Chan?”

The king looked at you painfully. 

“I am to be his guard one day, Your Majesty. I ought to know, don’t you think?” 

“I’ll handle it, Jiu.” 

You both snapped up at your father, standing in the doorway with a cloth and a new nightgown. The king nodded his head and left. 

You scoffed and looked the other way. “You’re the last person I want to hear this from right now.” 

“Dear–”

“You chained Chan to a prison wall, father,” you snarled. “And then he… he just exploded right in front of my eyes!” Hearing yourself saying it out loud made it sink in. The bizarre sight was something you’d never be able to forget and it made you sick again. 

“Is he dead?” You asked softly. 

Your father sat down next to you with a big exhale. “No, pumpkin. He’s the werewolf you just saw. He has been ever since he can remember.” 

You had no idea what a werewolf was, but you knew what a wolf looked like. That was not a wolf. 

Your father brought the cloth up to your face and started on your cheeks. The damp warmth seeped into your skin and you hummed in satisfaction. 

“Is that why you’re his guard and not an advisor to the king? He trusts you with his life to protect Chan.” 

He smiled at you. “You have your mother’s cleverness.” 

You averted your eyes from him, staring off into the distance. The castle grounds looked peaceful under the moonlight, despite what was being held in the cells. Or rather, who was there. You could never think of Chan as a mere beast. 

“I’ve never heard of a werewolf,” you said eventually. 

“I had always assumed that they were mere stories,” he answered and put the cloth away, your nightgown resting in his lap. “Creatures of the night that change form every full moon, overtaken by their uncontrollable nature to hunt.” He caressed your cheek. “You shouldn’t worry, pumpkin. Chan is back to himself in the morning.”

Your fingertips prickled. “You know as well as I do that it’s not the full story, father. I am not planning to wait when I take over from you, unprepared to help my dearest friend.” 

It seemed to shift something for him, in the way his eyebrows fell and eyes lowered. “When the king was still a prince, he crossed paths with a witch. The witch gained some sort of hold on him, which was almost impossible to break until he met a girl whom he fell in love with.”

You arched an eyebrow, making your father halt in his tracks. “I refuse to believe the witch was that upset over a boy.” 

“This is what the king told me when we were young, and I was ordered to never bring it up again.” 

You had no choice but to take that answer. 

“The witch was now powerless against him and swore that she wouldn’t rest until he was brought to his knees, but the king himself had proved untouchable. He’d broken her hold before.” He shot you a painful smile. “So he turned to his wife and their children. She would come back to curse every child they would ever have, which led to them to keep their existence hidden for as long as they could.” 

You tilted your head. “Are you saying that she did something to all of them?” 

“Yes, but I am only allowed to discuss Chan’s story with you so this reaches as few ears as we can.” He took your hands in his and squeezed them gently. “You have to promise to never tell this to anyone.” Your name rolled off his lips in a plea that made you shiver. 

You nodded quickly. “Yes, father. I won’t.” 

He released your hands and gave you your nightgown. “Now, I want you to be in bed and I will retrieve you at dawn, so you can see Chan.” 

You bowed your head at him and took the gown, making your way back to your chamber without another word. 

Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the explosion of Chan’s skin, the way the walls were covered in blood. You saw the beast that was ready to devour you, but you woke up right before he could. 

Every time. 

Chan had been a mess the morning after, covered in blood from head to toe. He’d started crying when he saw you, apologising over and over again. 

You’d learnt that he couldn’t remember what happened, as if he went into a deep slumber and someone else took over him. After he cleaned himself up, you stayed with him but he was in his own head for the entire day. 

You’d avoided each other over the weeks that followed, until the next cycle when it became inevitable that you’d crash into each other again. Not because Chan had any desire to look you in the eyes after you saw him in that form, but because your father wanted you there to see. 

When Chan was chained up again, trying to wriggle himself free while his other form clawed his way out, you stayed in the cell. Behind you was your father, calling out to you to leave. 

You’d never left him once since then, not even when his responsibilities started to become more serious in the years that followed. Seventeen years old and already talking about the prospect of marriage. You hated to be in his shoes. 

“I know that she’ll be a guard one day, but can’t she really just wear a dress?” You heard your mother outside your door. At the lack of reaction from your father, she scoffed lightheartedly. “Clement, it’s a ball. Let the girl have fun.” 

“She’s on duty tonight, my love. And besides, all her good dresses have mud stains on them.”

You rolled your eyes and hoisted yourself into a pair of brown pants and boots, tucking the bottom of the pants in. The light green jacket that was tailored for you covered the white blouse underneath. You took the medal from your dresser and clipped it on the left side of your chest.

Right above your heart. 

Your hair sat in its usual comfortable way, although that wouldn’t last long when your mother would bust through the door. 

You brushed your jacket off and turned towards the door, clearing your throat. “I’m–” 

The door flew open before you even finished your sentence. 

Your mother clasped her hands together with a gasp. “Look at you!”

“And you wanted me to wear a dress,” you teased and waved your hand to your desk. “Shall I sit down for my hair?” 

Her eyes scanned you up and down before she nodded. “I think a simple updo will be more than enough, dear. Sit down.” 

You closed your eyes when your mother went to work on your hair, smiling as her fingers brushed through your locks. When you opened them, your hair was in a low bun, two strands of hair framing your face. 

Your mother smiled. “Stand up, dear.”

You did and turned to your parents, clutching your medal. “I don’t know if I put this on well, it doesn’t feel stable.” 

“Let me help you, pumpkin,” your father said and walked up to you. He took the medal off and readjusted it. He stepped back, his lips curving into a smile that reached his eyes. “You’re all grown up now.” 

“Don’t get sentimental now, father.” 

Your mother grabbed his bicep with a chuckle. “You know how he can be. He was the same with Elian when it was his first time wearing the uniform.”

“You cried, Lillian,” your father retorted. 

“As I am allowed to do.” She let go of him and waved her hands. “Now, move along you two. Off to work you go.” 

You trailed next to your father as you descended the stairs, joining with the rest of the guards in the ballroom. The Royal Family’s absence was palpable through an anticipating buzz. The first ball of the year was always hosted by the palace, and it was only the most prosperous of families who were invited to attend. Dukes and duchesses, baron and baronesses and all titles alike. 

You stood next to your father, right next to the throne that the king would sit in when the first dance had concluded. The horns would play their entrance music and the princes would be announced first. Everyone in the room would bow their heads, their eyes on the ground. The next announcement would be the King and Queen and everyone in attendance would bow and curtsy until they were nearly touching the ground. 

When you made eye contact with Chan as his parents entered, he winced. You pressed your lips together and looked away, keeping your eyes on the ground. They flicked up when your father nudged you and you bowed along with him. 

The king offered you a smile. “What a pleasant sight to see you here, child. I am honoured that you’re in attendance.” 

You bowed your head in response. 

The queen shot you a look, but nothing else and just sat down, watching the princes blending amidst the crowd on the dancefloor. Even Jihoon. 

You bowed backwards to look at the other side of the table, where Elian was standing. His sharp eyes were fixated on Jihoon, but darted around as if he felt someone keeping an eye on him. His head turned towards you and he mouthed. 

“Rare sight, hm?” 

You nodded. 

He pointed to himself with a proud smile, to which you silently chuckled. His eyes flicked back to the heir while you looked at Chan, waltzing around the room with a girl. When the dance concluded, they bowed to each other and he moved on. 

That was their job for the night, dancing with half the people in the room and mingling with the rest of society. The upper layer, that was. 

Your attention drifted off to a conversation that your father was having with one of the guards, but it wasn’t the same as when he entertained the king. From your father’s distanced, short-formed answers, you could tell the relationship he fostered was nothing more than collegial. 

When Chan popped up again, he was dancing with a girl, entertaining her more than he did with the others. She was around your age, long brown hair flowing around with her movements. Her round face lit up whenever he said something to her and you could imagine the sound of her soft chuckles. 

“Aren’t they a sight for sore eyes?” You heard the Queen stating excitedly. “Miss Beaumont will be a perfect match for Chan.” 

Your jaw clenched, your eyes still on the dance floor. 

“A perfect match indeed, your Majesty,” your father echoed. There was a sliver of restraint in his words that only you could identify. To someone as ignorant as the Queen, his statement just seemed to further amplify what a divine human being she was.

She was likable once. Every time you crossed paths, you wondered what happened to her. 

“I have to formally speak to Lord Beaumont still,” she continued. “I imagine he will be delighted to hear that his daughter is chosen for our Chan.”

Your stomach turned. You were sure that you heard the same thing happening with your father. 

Chosen. Poor Miss Beaumont was chosen. To a duke, that was the most exciting news he could receive in his life, despite the surging rumours that he was going to break off from the palace. 

You joined Chan in the gardens after the festivities, both relieved of your respective duties. Your mind circled back to Miss Beaumont, but you weren’t sure whether that was out of pity or something else entirely. 

Chan wore a jacket similar to yours, but dark green and embroidered in gold at the seams. His dark brown hair was groomed into place, ridding it of its usual fluffy appearance with strands falling in front of his eyes. In moments like these he was really a prince, someone that would always be above you no matter how much he tried to treat you as an equal. 

“I wish this was the last ball,” he sighed out. “The festivities have only just started.” 

You hummed and crossed your legs, letting them dangle above the ground. “Father wants me to attend.” 

He cocked an eyebrow. “All of them?” 

“All of them.” 

He blew his cheeks, making you chuckle. 

You nudged him with a grin. “I saw you were a proper entertainer for Miss Beaumont tonight.”

“How do you know her name?” Chan questioned with a frown. 

You leaned in with a whisper. “I eavesdropped on your mother.” 

He let out a bitter chuckle. “She wants me to marry her one day, has been nagging me about it since last year.” 

You looked at him, at the way his jaw clenched and his fists balled. 

“I would like to inform you that this was the first time I’ve seen Miss Beaumont and no matter how pleasant her company, or how beautiful her appearance, I do not want to marry her.” 

“What’s the harm in telling your mother?” You countered with a hum. “She must have your best interests at heart, to want you to marry for love.” 

“Because the Queen wants me to marry for political gain, so I’ll have to marry for that reason.” Chan looked at you. “My wishes fall on deaf ears, so I find it more suitable to not wish for anything at all.” 

You felt your heart crumbling in your chest, but any sign of pity would only drive him away. “You must have some wishes, ones you can fulfill without the interference of your mother, or the Queen.” 

“Thinking of my marriage prospects, I can only think of how unprepared I will be to be a good husband to her. I don’t know anything.” He tilted his head. “Have you ever enjoyed the affections of a man?” 

“Nor a boy,” you answered with a shrug. “Wherever would I find the time?” 

“Valid point.” He looked ahead of him and hummed. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss someone.” 

You nodded in agreement. 

Chan turned back to you and for a second, you saw the idea flashing behind his eyes. The corners of his mouth curled up. 

“You’re a prince,” you argued and got off the bench, dusting off your attire. 

“I can’t recall a moment where you ever cared about that.” 

You turned on your heel, looking him straight in the eye. “Was that a challenge, Your Highness?” 

A grin spread on his face. “Well, I would certainly take it.” 

“This will be disastrous.” You pointed your finger between yourself and him. “For both of us.”

“No one will have to know.” He shrugged as if it was the most logical thing in the world. 

You couldn’t argue against it and now the words hung in the air between you, the desire to know had only grown. There was no harm in one kiss. Chan was your friend, the one that you shared a lot of things with throughout your life. 

You strode towards him and looked up at him, your eyes flicking to his lips. “Alright then, I suppose there’s no intention behind it other than curiosity.” 

“Fully agreed.” 

You swallowed with a nod and leaned in, inhaling the scent of musk with a fresh touch of jasmine. Your lips connected in a tender peck and that was all it was. When you pulled back, you nodded. “Well, that wasn’t so exciting, wasn’t it?”

“Not really, no.” Chan suppressed a smile before a chuckle rolled off his lips. “I suppose I have nothing to worry about.”

“You don’t.” You patted his shoulder and crossed your hands behind your back. “Have a good night, Chan. I will see you in the morning.”

Chan’s eyes burned in your back during the king’s speech. It became increasingly harder to ignore, to a point where you barely registered what he was saying about you. Your heart ached in your ribcage. 

It ached for him. You hated the way it ached for him. 

Chan stepped up to you and you bowed. He took the medal from one of the servants, the one that had just been removed from your father’s jacket. The string was a deep shade of green, while the medal itself was a shiny gold with Thornmer’s crest, the body of the deer bending into a ‘C’ shape. 

When you locked eyes, you sucked in your breath. His teenage features had sharpened and his face was so perfectly defined, you struggled to peel your eyes away from him. You breathed a soft sigh of relief when he was the one to look away. His hands clutched the medal before he pinned it on your jacket, next to the medal you were already wearing. 

He stepped back, blending in with the rest of his family again. 

You bowed to all of them, one knee hitting the hard surface underneath you. You glanced at your father, watching over you with a smile. You had to get used to seeing him in a dark green coat standing next to the king instead of behind him. 

It suited him. 

You were told to rise and applause echoed through the palace. Glancing into the crowd, you saw your mother in front and you swore a tear escaped her eye. 

There was no fancy banquet for your anointment, nor was there any celebration. As Chan stepped out of the room to resume his duties, so did you. 

“I have to get used to my shadow not being over six feet tall,” Chan teased and looked over his shoulder. “I would prefer you walking next to me, however. Especially you.”

You fell into step with him. “As you wish–”

“Don’t.” 

You kept your eyes straight ahead, the grin creeping up your face. “Your Highness.” 

Chan nudged you before he resumed the walk outside, opting for an afternoon stroll through the blooming gardens. 

There was a string of doubts that had washed over you before the ceremony. Your new position within the palace had the possibility of changing your dynamic with Chan, a lifelong friend. The one person that you’d always trusted with your life, was now going to have to trust his life with you. 

Your doubts ebbed away over the months that you eased into your new role. You attended meetings with him, travelled throughout the land with him, you even got to attend the balls that he dreaded so much. 

You couldn’t help but translate it to yourself, feeling it settle deeply into your bones. You had no reason to feel that way and told yourself you shared his sentiment: he should be at that ball to look for love, not to strengthen political bonds with allies. 

Even more frequent than before, Chan sought you out. You were never truly off duty after the day concluded, always at the ready for when he needed you, but he wasn’t there as your prince and you knew. He stayed in your chambers until you fell asleep, sometimes he was still there when you woke up. There was no true reason for him to be there other than just… wanting to be there. 

You told yourself you were too tired to protest against him. 

For lack of a better idea, he followed you down to the cells without questions when you had to deal with full moons. You watched him explode out of his own skin every cycle, sitting outside his cell while he howled and growled and tried to claw the place to pieces. You stayed outside of his room when he was too tired to come out after the full moon. 

That was the rhythm you’d fallen into. You told yourself it was for the best that you kept some sort of distance that wouldn’t raise his suspicions. 

The morning after your sixth full moon as his guard, you’d brought him up to his chambers as usual. As you were about to take your stance, he lingered by the door. His hand was already on the knob when he turned around. “Can you stay with me?” 

“I’m always with you,” you answered with a nod. “Take all the time you need.”

“I meant with me. Inside of my chambers.” 

You froze. 

“I just…” He shrugged weakly. “I need you a little closer today.” 

Your heart shouldn’t beat the way it did. Not for him. 

You cleared your throat and brushed your jacket. “If that is what you desire, I shall.” 

“I don’t want the guard,” Chan declared, his hooded eyes scanning every inch of your face. “I want my friend.” 

You swallowed and shot him a small smile. “I will be there.”

He pushed through the door and left it for you to close. The high ceilings were decorated with old paintings, ones you’d seen plenty of times when you were a child. You weren’t supposed to be in his room, ever. 

You stood by the door, watching as Chan trudged towards his bed. His toned down attire and clean appearance almost made you forget what he had to endure every full moon. It was something you were used to by then, but for Chan it still carried a weight he didn’t want. 

His white blouse hugged him loosely, dark brown pants similar to yours hugging his thighs, but of the finer materials specially reserved for royals. He looked over his shoulder. “You don’t have to keep standing there.”

You stepped away from the door. 

He turned around fully and crossed his arms. “Speak.” 

“I don’t–”

“I’m asking this as your friend, not as your prince. Speak.” 

You arched an eyebrow. “You sound an awful lot like the prince.” 

“The line is very thin.” He shrugged. “Something is troubling you and has been for a while.” 

“Today is not about me, but about your recovery,” you answered and walked up to him. “I do not wish to deflect the subject in any way, but I don’t want to place any more burdens on your shoulders.”

“You sound an awful lot like the guard,” Chan bit back, making you chuckle. A small smile appeared on his face as his fingers tucked a lock behind your ear. 

Your eyes widened, your heart hammering in your chest. 

He pulled his hand back. His cheeks flushed a hot pink as he stepped back. “I… I do not know what came over me. I just…”

You placed a hand on his cheek, flaming hot under your touch. Your heart skipped a beat when he leaned into it. 

“I wish this was easier,” he mumbled and closed his eyes. He started leaning in. “I just…” 

“We shouldn’t do this,” you whispered. “Someone of your status–”

“You keep finding new ways to phrase it, however my point remains the same.” His eyes fluttered open. “I can’t ever recall a moment where that mattered to you.”

You took a step away from him, but too small to mirror your words. 

Chan closed the distance, his hands cupping your cheeks. “Let this be our secret. Nobody shall find out.” 

Your lips connected in a kiss, your heart desperately clawing at your ribcage. It was the only way you could give it what it desired. 

You held onto his shirt, clutching it between your fists tightly as if he could evaporate under your touch. As if, when you’d open your eyes, you’d shatter at the reality of your situation. Reality was outside of his chambers, where it couldn’t hurt you. 

He rested his forehead against yours with a small sigh, but you didn’t want to hear it and kissed him again. And again. 

And again. 

The spark became undeniable as the months progressed, but you slipped on a mask when you started appearing out of his room more often than you were allowed to, your skin still tingling from his gentle, tender touches. Full moons didn’t have anything to do with it anymore; he just wanted you close at any moment of the day, even when you were still on duty. 

Sometimes, duty consisted of laying on his bed together, wrapped up in each other’s arms and forgetting the world around you. No matter how difficult you found that to be. 

“I have to go,” you whispered to him and pressed a kiss to his nose. You hoisted yourself up, to the dismay of the prince. You looked over at your shoulder with a chuckle. “I can’t stay here forever, Chan. We both know that I’m still on duty.”

“Then I want you to come back when you’re off duty.”

“Which is never.”

“Exactly, so what does it matter?” Chan shrugged. When he saw you didn’t budge, he pouted. “Please?” 

You put your jacket back on and bowed your head. “When you need me, I will be right outside your door.” 

“I wish to attend the meeting with my father and mother, discussing Lord Beaumont’s possible conspiracy and…” He swallowed as he came up. “The other thing.” 

The other thing, something that had been hanging in the air between you for longer than you allowed yourself to admit. 

You nodded, ignoring the stinging of your chest and handed his dark green, sleeveless overcoat. “Very well, then.” 

You could’ve warned Chan in advance that he would not like what was going to be discussed. Swallowing down a big pile of I told you so’s and the anger that rumbled in your chest, you watched Chan accept his fate in defeat. 

It was his mother who was especially insistent and even the slightest scoff or sigh would’ve sent him to his grave. 

So you saw Chan swallow as well. It was all you could do. 

You glanced at your father, who kept the same neutral expression he’d mastered over the years. Suppressing a defeated sigh, you started thinking about what to pack while the royals finalised your stay, sending out a letter to Lord Beaumont to notify him of your visit. 

“At least his marriage has a chance of success,” Elian told you when you were back in your quarters. “Have you heard the latest news?” 

“They are just rumours, sprout,” your mother commented and handed your comb, which you stuffed in your bag. 

He shook his head firmly. “Jihoon had it confirmed this morning, which is why he wasn’t at the meeting about Lord Beaumont. He was… well, somewhere else.” 

You arched an eyebrow. “What is confirmed?” 

“The Blackspirian crown princess has disappeared, you knew that,” he started and turned your body to you. “Her coronation was supposed to be a month or two ago and the rumours of a coup turned out to be true. They’re going to attack Blackspire and the royal family there has been forced into hiding.” 

You curled your upper lip. “That’s unfortunate. So what’s the news that Jihoon has gotten?” 

“Word came from Nytheria with a proposal.” Elian’s eyes darted between you and your mother. “I know the chances of being allowed to share this information, but if I won’t share it, father would’ve because that’s simply how he is.” He rolled his shoulders back. “He will be betrothed to the Nytherian crown princess to unite our lands.”

“Who is ‘they’?” You asked your brother, but that was where his story ended. That was the thing he was not allowed to say. 

He probably didn’t know, neither did the king nor Jihoon. 

You closed your bag and got up. “Thank you for the help and the company, but I must go. Chan must be waiting for me.” 

Your mother kissed your cheek. “Safe travels, pumpkin. We’ll see you soon.”

“Keep him alive!” Elian called out after you. 

You were silently hoping for the other way around. 

Lord and Miss Beaumont were welcoming and accommodating, even to you. You weren’t stuffed away in a chamber as big as the broom closet, nor were you treated like you were just someone to order around. They respected you and your position and even made conversation with you, especially the duke himself. 

Miss Beaumont was left alone with Chan while you waited outside the room with her father. You felt your chest sting, but you ignored it in favour of conversing with Lord Beaumont, who was enlightening you on his interest in the arts. He was a painter in his free time, and a botanist you learned. His hands had been calloused and rough when he shook your hand. 

Lord Beaumont was a man who did not care as much for status and reputation as much as the other noblemen. That made you feel even more guilty that you were about to destroy his basement. 

You shushed Chan as he started growling. “I know you have little control over this, but please try to silence yourself.” 

He’d gotten better at trying to control himself over the two years that you were his guard. There were even full moons that he did not shift at all, but the agonising state that left him in was probably a hundred times worse than that. 

You were barely able to stomach the sight of him and the toll it was taking on him to fight back. You kneeled down with him and cupped his cheeks. “Just a couple of hours left, okay? I’ll be with you.” 

Chan’s eyes were glimmering in the dim light, crystal white. His grip on your arms was firm, almost bone-crushing, but you bit through it. 

“You’re doing well,” you continued in a whisper and shot him a faint smile. “This is just very unfortunate timing. You’d think that your parents would think twice about sending us here during a full moon.” 

“We’ve all grown too accustomed to it.” Chan groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know if I can hold it any longer–” 

You looked him straight in the eyes and tightened your grip. “I’m afraid we’ll have to.” 

A tear rolled down his cheek as he nodded quickly, his chest rising and falling in big motions.

“It’s a shame the Beaumont’s are nice people, isn’t it?” You commented, your lips curving into a smile when you heard him chuckle. 

“How unfortunate that there are kind nobles.” He looked at you with glistering eyes. “I can’t even begin to describe the pain that is befalling me. It’s unbearable.” 

You chewed your lip and nodded. You got up and walked around the basement, your eyes scanning the area. “We have to do something about this.” 

“Break this forsaken curse.” 

You froze in your tracks.

“I want to break the curse,” Chan said with a trembling voice. “For all of us. My brothers and I have lived with this for long enough, have had to endure all of this because a witch was too fed up with my father for whatever reason.”

You turned around to him. 

He gestured at himself frantically. “Look at what this curse is doing to me! I’m a beast, locked away every full moon and as of now, I’m in the basement of my future wife – if my mother will have her way – who doesn’t even know about all of this!” 

You couldn’t allow yourself to shatter, if you were to be seen caring more for Chan than as his guard… 

“When we return,” Chan spoke determinedly. “I will have a talk with my parents and I cannot begin to care what royal duties they try to bestow upon me instead.” 

You felt your lips curving into a smile. With a satisfied nod, you crossed your arms. “I see that you are biting back, Your Highness.”

“There’s no one else that has the same desires for me and I was counting on their active efforts, so I will do it myself.” He threw his head back and cursed underneath his breath. “After this excruciating pain has passed, that is.” 

You sat down next to him with a nod. “I will be by your side.” 

“As my guard or my…” Chan swallowed. “...you know.” 

You laced your fingers together, his skin soft like silk under your touch. Your heart was playing a symphony for him, one that only he could understand. 

Chan’s breathing was stabilising as you shuffled closer. He looked at your hand, rough and calloused, and kissed it. “Mín Máni,” he muttered. 

Your breath hitched, your heart about to claw its way out of your chest. “Chan, I…” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered and squeezed your hand. 

In all truth, you opened your mouth but the words were stuck in your throat. Your mind was a clutter of thoughts running rampant. You just let Chan declare you his, even though your realities were worlds apart. You’d been prepared to serve the Crown since you were little, that very day when your father and the king came up to you when you were eight years old. Your fate was set in stone; you were a servant and were never destined for something more.

Chan had been born into royalty, had always been treated like he was on top of the world and had a multitude of people that stood at his ready when he needed them. He didn’t have to worry about whether his bow was deep enough, or if he addressed someone by the correct title. Hell, if he even addressed them in the correct order. He was the one on the receiving end. 

Chan was a prince, never destined for something less, and the ease in which he showed his affections rekindled a sliver of hope that maybe, it would be in the cards.

Something you could not afford, no matter how desperately your heart desired it. No matter that, in its own twisted way, something about your affections grounded him. 

“It is unfair to sit here, with Miss Beaumont upstairs so painfully unaware of my situation,” Chan spoke softly. His signs of struggle had seemed to calm down, the only hint that it could still go downhill being the glowing of his eyes. 

“Do you want to do this for Miss Beaumont?” You asked without a second thought. 

He released his hand from yours with a huff, making you arch your eyebrow. “There’s no need to give me such a look. You know that’s not why I want to do this.”

“Do I?” You shot him a slight smile and turned a quarter to face him. “Chan, you should try and find a solution for you, not to please a possible future wife, or your mother for that matter, or because you assume that is all people see you as.”

He stared ahead of him, the words between you unspoken but piercing your chest nonetheless. 

You decided to leave it at that and sat against the wall, right next to him. Your destined place in the world in the worst possible way. 

The rest of the night passed in small conversations which made it more than clear that Chan hadn’t liked your suggestion. He wasn’t losing control over it, fortunately, but his mood was a lot worse than usual. 

You joined Chan, standing right behind his seat as he ate with Lord and Miss Beaumont. You felt your eyelids getting heavy and you struggled to fight against the exhaustion washing over you. 

Miss Beaumont, who was facing you, seemed to recognise the same in Chan and put her cutlery down. “Your Highness, are you well?” Her warm, cheerful voice cut through the silence.

You had no trouble imagining the struggle to compose himself and all you were looking at was the back of his head. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” he answered. “Sometimes, there are certain… disagreements that linger far more than they should and it has kept me up for a considerable portion of the night.” 

You struggled to not roll your eyes, or kick his chair. Maybe it was acceptable to yank his head back and pretend like you hadn’t done anything at all afterwards. 

“Oh, how awful,” Miss Beaumont commented gracefully. She nodded her head once with that sweet smile of hers. “Please, take your time to rest today and we will resume our pleasantries after you feel better.” 

Chan opted to finish his breakfast first, declaring it improper to walk away in the middle of it. From the back of his head, you knew he was studying her response carefully. 

You looked at Miss Beaumont as well and watched how her lips curved into a smile again. It didn’t quite reach her eyes and her nod was rehearsed, quick in reflex. She didn’t accompany her actions with words, except for the usual agreement out of politeness. Expectations, even. 

Chan didn’t want you to, but you trailed behind him to his chambers anyway. He stopped in front of the door and turned around. “Are you seriously unaware of my motives?” 

You arched an eyebrow. “You’ve spent all morning moping around, wallowing in your anger and discontent and now you ask me that question?”

“I’m given little choice in what I do,” he answered. “Not only because my parents are hypocrites for using me as a political bargaining tool when their marriage was out of a place of love, but also because every full moon, I turn into something so terrifying and dangerous that I am forced to hide it away from everyone.” He shrugged weakly, offering a small smile. “It is no way to live and you know that as well as I do. That is why I’m doing this.”

He stepped up to you. “Or is it wrong from me to want something for once in my life? To take the reins and steer it where I want it to go?”

You swallowed when you looked at him, your heart galloping in your chest. You slowly shook your head. 

Chan nodded contently and took a step back. “I shall rest now.”

You bowed your head. “And I shall be outside your door. Whenever you need me, you just need to call for me.” 

His fingers brushed your shoulders when he slipped past you, leaving a trail of heat. His eyes twinkled when you locked eyes and he twisted the doorknob. “When we’re going to find a cure,” he said. “It’s just going to be you and me and we can do whatever we want.”

You forced a smile and nodded. 

Chan returned it and went inside, closing the door behind him. 

You should feel like the luckiest woman in the world. You should feel like you’re floating on a cloud, untouchable and secure. All you could feel instead was the words swallowing you whole until there was nothing left of you. 

Chan’s determination lifted your spirits at least a little on your way back home. The worries that you had before faded with every turn of the carriage’s wheels. You’d almost felt free, being alone with him apart from the footman. 

Until you were back at the palace and reality shackled you again. 

You stood behind him during the requested audience with his parents. You were in the drawing room, your attire blending into the walls. It was almost as if you weren’t there at all. 

It especially applied to the queen. 

“We will not risk losing you to such dangers,” she said resolutely. “You are staying here for your duties and when you’re married, you have all the freedom in the world to break the curse.” 

Chan shook his head. “No, I’m not waiting. This is getting too out of hand.” 

You felt your throat dry out when the queen looked at you, her eyes so cold that you wondered if she was made of ice. 

“She has nothing to do with this, mother. This was all my idea,” he said calmly. “I want to break my curse, not her.” 

“Perhaps you did not hear me correctly, Chan.” She stepped up to him. “You are staying here for your duties. When you are wed, you can seek a cure for your situation.” 

Chan lowered his eyes and your heart dropped when you saw him nodding. “Yes, mother,” he mumbled and bowed when she stormed out of the room. 

You did the same. When you looked up, you saw the king still in the room. 

“I apologise for your mother, son,” he spoke gently. “I fail to understand what has come over her in recent years. She was never like this when you were a child.” 

“It doesn’t matter, father,” Chan replied. “She has said to stay here. I have no choice but to follow her orders. She’s my queen as much as she is my mother.” 

“Only because I am the king.” 

You tilted your head. 

The king offered Chan to sit as he sat back down as well. His eyes locked with yours and he smiled. “Sit down, child.” 

You scrambled up and bowed before you sat down next to Chan. You felt his hand brushing the side of your leg before he put it on his lap. The tips of your ears burned up and you averted your eyes. 

“Let me start by saying that I understand your mother’s concerns,” the king started. “There’s no saying what the witch will do when you stand in front of her, but that is no reason to let you or any of your brothers suffer.” 

You pushed your brows together. As you started digging in your memory, you could only recall Jihoon. There was no way you would ever forget him. 

The king looked at you and smiled painfully. “Ah.” 

An eerie feeling settled in your bones. 

Chan glanced aside, but when you locked eyes, he lowered his eyes. 

“The witch you need to seek out lives in the woods, up north. They split our land and Nytheria’s, but she lives on our territory. Confined, that is, in woods so dark you can’t see.” 

You still refused to believe that she would’ve been so angry over a man that she cursed his entire future. There was no way to prove otherwise yet, so you had to believe your father and the king’s word over it. 

“Once again, there is no saying what she will do when you present yourself to her. She might be willing to help, but she also might just… you know.” 

“Murder me brutally, yes.” Chan slapped his thighs with a smile. “At least I’m not the heir, right? Or the spare.” 

The king’s face fell. “That doesn’t make you any less than your brothers, son. I care a great deal about your well-being and I am devastated to witness how much you’re suffering.” He glanced at you with an almost unnoticeable smile. “You have the perfect help by your side, but that doesn’t mean that this should be what you need to live with forever.”

Chan was as surprised as you were, but he kept his thoughts to himself. 

“Your Majesty,” you spoke up and bowed your head. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, my child.”

You shuffled in your seat and cleared your throat. “I was just wondering what makes this moment so different from all the others that Chan has been in such distress over his situation.” 

Any other king would’ve sent you straight to the executioner, put you on trial for stepping above your station. You were a guard. You had no right to speak up. 

King Jiu chuckled warmly, welcoming your thoughts and opinions like you weren’t just a guard to him. 

“You remind me of Clement, dear, both so eager to help the ones that need it.” His eyes held the warmth of your own father when he looked at you. “Your father tried when you and Chan were very young. We almost lost him trying to locate the witch who bestowed this upon us. I sent a variety of soldiers her way over the years and none returned with the news we desired. We were in luck if they returned at all.”

You glanced at Chan. 

“So we decided,” he continued. “if Chan ever expressed the desire to rid himself of this curse, I would provide him all the information he needs. Maybe it is not our decision to make after all, especially because she has a personal vendetta against me.” 

You swallowed the sour taste in the back of your throat and nodded. You bowed your head once again and sat back in your seat. 

“Thank you, father,” Chan spoke softly. 

The king shuffled closer to him. “You can always decide whether you’d like to seek her out, but I wanted you to know either way.” 

Chan flew forward and wrapped his arms around his father, the man happily returning his affection. 

He locked eyes with you once again and offered you a nod. All you could do was return it. 

With a bow, both you and Chan left the room. The words hung between you as you followed Chan to the gardens, all the way to the back where barely any royal threaded. He took you there often when he wanted to be alone, where there were no eyes on you. 

You reached out to him, your heart racing in your chest. With trembling fingers, your hand touched his arm as you moved to stand next to him. You looked up at him with a small smile before you retreated your hand. 

Chan pulled you into his side instead, his hand resting on the small of your back. 

The voice in your head screaming that this was all wrong was overpowered by an overwhelming desire to stay. The world you were moving in ceased to exist and you weren’t standing in palace gardens, or burdened by duty. You weren’t crossing a line with a prince that would never be yours. You were you and Chan was Chan, even in his gold embroidered, dark green overcoat and the emblem dangling from his side. 

“I do not know whether I am convincing myself of something non-existent, or whether I truly believe my mother is right.” 

You snapped up at him. 

“Maybe,” Chan continued. “I should marry before I can settle this.”

You released yourself. 

“Wait, that is not at all what I intended–”

“You should make up your mind, Chan,” you said tautly. “You can not whisper these… these sweet nothings to me, calling me your moon for that matter, kiss and touch me to then turn around and give in to your mother’s demands.” 

He opened his mouth, but you jumped in. 

“You know that it is not what you want, so why don’t you stay true to your values?” 

“Because it’s hard to go against the person who both raised and rules over you. And she’s becoming increasingly meddlesome and… harsh.” Chan stepped up to you. “I don’t expect you to understand the position I find myself in, but all I want is peace in my family. The curses are doing enough to rip us apart.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest when he reached out to you. “I don’t want to be tossed aside for something you do not desire, not when I…” You paused and looked at him. “I don’t want to lose you and become just your guard, that’s all.” 

He grabbed your hands and a buzz shot all the way to your belly. His sharp eyes were soft every time they looked at you and you struggled to stay afloat. “You will not lose me. I care too much about you to allow it.” 

“Promise me that you will think about this,” you said softly. “You should not push your own wishes aside to please your mother’s.” You shook your hands as you looked in his eyes. “This curse will be broken one way or the other. You can count on that.” 

You woke up at night after hearing a thud in your sleep. You almost wanted to rule it as that until Chan’s silhouette in the doorframe gave you the heartache of the century. 

He shushed you before you could scream the entire wing awake and hurried up to you. 

“It’s the middle of the night,” you hissed and covered yourself with the blanket. 

“Yes, but father has his greatest ideas at this hour and it appears, so do I!” As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could see him beaming at you. “I’ve spoken to him before coming here and he sends a carriage out at dawn. Don’t wear your official attire, though.” 

You cocked an eyebrow. “What…” 

“We’re going to the north.” 

“Splendid idea. Can I go back to sleep now? Dawn is about three hours away. Two, if you count me having to pack.” 

“Oh! Yes, of course.” He stepped back, looking at you in anticipation. 

You let out a deep sigh and beckoned him. “One kiss and then you need to go back to your own chambers.” 

Chan’s lips connected with yours and you felt him smile against your touch. He hovered in front of your face when he pulled back. “I’ll see you at dawn.”

When he tiptoed out of your chambers, you couldn’t help but smile. His exuberant nature was still there, although buried under a thick layer of responsibility and expectations. 

You slipped out of your room and towards the entrance of the palace, where Chan was already waiting for you. 

He leaned against the carriage and perked up, jogging up to you with a bright smile. “You’re here! I was hoping your half-asleep self hadn’t forgotten.” 

“How could I, after the near heart failure you gave me standing in my chambers in the night?” You brushed down the folds of your red dress and held your arm out. “Is this unofficial enough?” 

Chan scanned you up and down, his cheeks flushing a light pink. “Yeah. That, um… Perfect.” 

You observed his black blouse and pants, covered by a cloak that matched your dress. You offered a satisfied nod and brushed some dust off his cloak. When you looked up, his eyes had softened and his lips curved into a smile. 

“Thank you for doing this with me,” he said. “I owe you.” 

“You can make it up to me when we’re on the road.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and brushed past him to the carriage. 

Chan’s eyes widened before he scrambled after you. “I… I mean, if you’d like–” 

You looked over your shoulder with a nonchalant shrug and stepped onto the stairs. “Fill that in however you like, Your Highness.” 

He chewed his lip before plopping them. “I don’t know how I feel about it when you put so much emphasis on it.” 

You leaned in with a soft whisper, holding on to the side of the carriage. “You love it.” 

Chan’s eyes twinkled mischievously, making you flutter. He whisked you inside with a smile, but you had little chance to do so. 

Her bellows cut through the peaceful morning and made your blood run cold. You turned your head and she stormed towards you in her robe, two maids running after her as elegantly as they could. She pointed her finger at you, her eyes piercing through you directly. 

“You,” She spat. “What is the meaning of this?!” 

“Mother–” Chan was silenced by a deadly glare and lowered his eyes. 

You looked at her and curtsied. “Good morning, Your Majesty. My apologies for the concern–” 

“Apologies?!” She hollered. “I am no fool, little girl!”

You arched an eyebrow. “Little girl? My sincerest pardon, but I am a woman, Your Majesty. A woman with the full right to accompany my friend and prince on his journey.” 

The queen stormed up to you, the fire crackling behind her eyes almost literally. “You are very brave for speaking in the manner you do,” she said lowly. “I suggest you step down–”

“I suggest leaving her alone.” 

Both of your heads whipped to Chan. His eyes pierced through his mother when he spoke. “This was my choice and I stand behind it. She’s only here to accompany me as my guard. You know, doing her job as is expected of her.” He tilted his head to the side with narrowed eyes. “Would you have liked me venturing on my own while she was here at the palace? Or is this a personal issue with her?” 

The queen scoffed and pointed her finger at him. “You’re going to regret this, Chan. I really hope you do.” 

You watched her storm back inside and couldn’t help but feel a shiver travelling down your spine. When you were little, she’d never been like this. Maybe when her sons needed discipline – they were boys, after all – but she was never this… hostile. And controlling. 

Looking back at Chan, you started wondering if he and his brother weren’t the only ones that were cursed. Maybe she had suffered too and she did so in silence. To protect her already crumbling family from more hurt. 

And this was the result. 

Before anyone else could express their discontent, you left palace grounds and went on your way. For once, you were travelling inside the carriage and not on top next to the footman. Watching the outlines of your city disappear into the distance, you sank deeper into your thoughts. 

The story had to be missing something. A witch had gotten a hold over a prince, but he fell in love with a girl and the spell was broken. The witch grew resentful and swore to take everything away that he loved, bringing him down to his knees until there was nothing left to destroy. She cursed their children and presumably, the queen as well. 

And you still refused to believe that a witch went that low for a boy, nonetheless.

You looked at Chan. “Do you know anything about your mother?” 

His eyes darted to you and scanned you curiously. 

“Is she cursed as well?” 

“I’ve had my suspicions, yes.” He leaned his head back against the interior with a sigh. “I think today confirmed them. I refuse to believe that mother is like this. She was always so…” 

“Caring, and sweet.” 

Chan looked out of the window again. 

You reached for his hand and placed yours on top. “If there’s a way to break her curse as well, if she has one, we will do so.” 

“I’m doing this for everyone,” he said determinedly. “For my parents, Jihoon and… and Seokmin.” 

You pushed your brows together, but Chan didn’t seem too eager to elaborate. You sat back in your seat and looked out of the window, the exhilaration you’d experienced before nothing more than a dying flame. 

“Well,” Chan clicked his tongue upon the sight and looked at you. “it’s better than sleeping outside, or in the carriage.” 

You crossed your arms with a frown. “We can easily travel through the night and find a tavern or something. No need to stay in a house whose roof can collapse any moment.”

Chan looked up at the sky and then at you. “It’s quite dark. I don’t want anything happening to you.” 

“I can fight.” 

He chuckled. “That I’m sure of, my dearest.” 

Your cheeks flushed a shade as red as your dress and you peeled away from him. You cleared your throat and brushed the folds of your skirt. “Your call. I follow.”

Chan marched inside. 

You looked over your shoulder at the footman, who slumped in his seat. “I wish he was easier to convince.”

“I will celebrate the day that ever occurs, miss.” 

Shooting him an apologetic smile, you followed the prince inside. 

Chan was already trying to start a fire and you froze in your tracks. The sight of him trying to light the branches in the hearth made you both laugh and want to pull your hair out, so you relieved him of his duties. He looked at you curiously and it took everything in you to not give into your desires. 

“You’ll be sitting here until we’re leaving in the morning,” you clarified and lit a small piece of wood before throwing it on the fire. 

His mouth formed an ‘O’ shape, his cheeks flushing a light pink. 

“You learn something new every day.” You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He returned the favour with a kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. He pulled back before you could melt into it, his eyes closed. “I still have to make something up to you,” he whispered and caressed your cheek with his thumb. 

A buzz shot all the way to your lower body when his hand travelled down your curves, his lips connecting with your neck. You fluttered when he nipped on your pulse. “Chan,” you gasped and looked through the window. “The footman–”

“He will swear to secrecy,” he mumbled in between kisses. “Or are you able to keep quiet?” 

You scoffed playfully. “I can, thank you very much.” 

“That’s unfortunate.” 

You turned your head, making him look up. “You grew some audacity since we left the palace grounds.” 

Chan snickered and brushed your hair to the side. “I won’t do anything you don’t desire, my love.” 

The truth was that your desires knew no limit, but that was the problem. You weren’t allowed to and you knew. Chan knew as well, but his consequences were a lot less severe than yours and he could allow himself to care less. 

You shuffled away and rested your head on his shoulder. “This is all I want right now,” you whispered. 

Chan wrapped his arm around you with a hum, the crackling flames reflecting in his eyes. When you locked eyes, he smiled. 

“What if this turns into something…” 

“Real?”

You nodded and looked away from him. “I guess.”

Chan’s grip tightened. “I… I fear I do not have an answer for that. My family’s lineage has always consisted of nobles marrying each other. People with titles, and wealth.” He tucked a lock behind your ear. “Mother was the daughter of a duke before she married father and their match – unlike many others – was a genuine love match. Although I have no trouble believing that there was a political motive behind it.” 

“My family carries no titles, yet they are among the most trusted people for yours.” You looked up. “Do you carry the same sentiment? That you need to keep your lineage… noble?” 

He shook his head. “But the people that decide for me…”

“I understand.” 

Your words came out harsher than you intended to. You weren’t hostile – in fact, it had been all you knew since you lived in the palace – but something inside of you crumbled every time Chan laid the subject to rest so easily. As if he had no plans to fight for his own agency. 

To fight for you. 

You peeled away from him and got up. “I’m going to get some rest. We have long days ahead of us tomorrow.”

He called out to you, but you shook your head and walked to the chambers. 

Chan grabbed your wrist and turned you around. “I promise I will fight,” he said determinedly. 

You had to make due with it and nodded. “I hope you will,” were the words you left him outside of the door  with. 

You’d gotten up at the crack of dawn to prepare your departure alongside the footman. You felt guilty enough about having left him alone and you hoped that he invited himself in at least. 

When you entered the living room with your bag, the fire was still crackling. A silhouette was in front of the couch, his back facing you. You immediately recognised the mop of dark brown hair and your heart made a jump. 

Without saying much, you greeted him and headed outside to see the footman loading the carriage. You gave him the bag and wanted to check the rest of the carriage, but he stopped you. 

“His Royal Highness has already lended me some help, miss,” he told you. “If you are ready, we can depart.”

Your mouth formed an ‘O’ shape before you clicked your tongue. You bobbed your head and turned on your heel to go back inside. 

Chan had come up and stood by the couch, his smile lighting up the room. His hands were balled into fists and he lingered where he was standing, the restraint clear as day. 

You cleared your throat and brushed the folds of your dress. “Alright, I am ready. We’ll search for something to eat once we’re up north.”

He nodded and followed you outside. He waited until you were in the carriage before he got in and took his seat across from you. 

You stretched your fingers and looked out of the window, feeling your heart sinking in your chest. You’d hoped that he would at least sit next to you. 

The ride was so silent that you could combust out of your skin, even though you didn’t know what to say to him. Or maybe you did, but it was so overwhelmingly much that you were best off not saying anything at all. 

A line of trees appeared on the horizon when the sun was setting. Chan had repeatedly started conversations that you cut short with half-assed answers and gave up halfway through the day. 

You took a deep breath when you pushed out of the carriage, the pressing feeling on your chest ebbing away. Chan took you to a tavern in town, where you finally got some food and proper shelter. 

Shelter that included one room because that was the only room they had available. You were sure that the universe was planning something. 

“I’ll sleep in the chair, if that makes you more comfortable,” Chan said and removed his shoes. 

“No, it’s fine,” you heard yourself say. When you turned to him, he looked as surprised as you. You shrugged weakly. “I mean, we’ve been in the same bed before, right? What’s so different about this time?”

The question was unnecessary, stupid, even. You both stared the inevitable truth in the face, but both of you looked away before it consumed you. 

You slid in bed and Chan did the same. You just laid there, staring at the cracks in the ceiling without a word. From the corner of your eye, you saw Chan rolling on his side. 

“Hey.”

You glanced at him shortly before peeling away. 

“The last thing I want to do is upset you,” he said softly. “I’m just… I’m torn, but you shouldn’t suffer under that.”

“We’ll see when the time comes,” you replied and turned on your side, facing away from him. “I’m going to get some proper rest. We have quite the journey ahead of us, still.”

“Okay,” he whispered in defeat. 

Something inside of you crumbled until there was nothing left. 

–

Chan grew increasingly restless the closer you got to the witch. He hadn’t said much to you since you went on your way again and neither had you tried to initiate anything. 

He knocked on the roof of the carriage and it grinded to a halt. You’d continue the rest of the journey on foot. 

You pulled your sword out of the luggage and turned to Chan, who arched an eyebrow. “Precautionary measures.”

“Right.” He clicked his tongue and started walking. “Coming?”

You fell into step with him, the sword resting in your hand. You had no idea what you were about to encounter and even if you came as Chan’s… friend, you were still his protector. The queen was already coming after you, but if he was harmed in your care. You’d cease to exist, to put it mildly. 

The woods had nearly overgrown, almost like a protection barrier between her and the rest of the world. When the king talked about living in confinement, he was not overstating his case in the slightest. 

It felt like a trap and an invite all at once, as if the witch was luring you in with a false promise and today would be the last day you’d see the outer world. Forever chained in her prison of doom, or revenge. 

Your father had threaded here as well years ago and nearly gave his life for Chan. If the dangers he encountered back then still roamed now, you followed in his footsteps closely. Your chest filled with warmth. This was what you were destined to do. If you had to die, then you did it with pride. 

The world around you went dark. 

You whipped out your sword and circled around, your back pressed against Chan’s. Your eyes struggled to adjust, the woods so thick that it blocked the light from coming through. 

“I see the path,” Chan whispered and looked over his shoulder. “Stay close to me.”

“Legally required to.” You clenched the handle of the sword in your fist as you stuck to his side. “Wait, how do you see where we’re going?”

“No matter how much I hate it, being a werewolf comes with perks.” 

Your head snapped his way. “Night vision.”

Chan stayed silent, but you could see the silhouette of his head going up and down. “I need you to stay really close to me. You still have no idea where we’re headed.”

“My eyes can’t seem to adjust well.” You hummed. “Would this be deliberate? So it’s only you who will seek her out?” 

His hand found the small of your back and your stomach fluttered. “I’m still taking you with me.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you looked away. Even in the darkest woods of the entire region, you still felt watched and uneasy. The further you threaded into the woods, the worse you started to feel. 

Chan halted in his tracks.

You held your sword out in front of you, in a whole of nothingness. 

“The path stopped here,” he whispered and pulled you close. “It’s just… gone.” 

The air punched out of your lungs.

“I’m so sorry. We’ll turn back–” 

You swallowed harshly. “Don’t tell me the path disappeared.”

“The path disappeared.”

You muttered to yourself and wiped your forehead. “Gods… Okay. So we’re in the middle of the woods without a clue how to go forward or turn back.” You turned to Chan’s silhouette. “Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“A trap?”

Hearing it out loud choked the last bit of air out of your lungs. “I know someone in my position shouldn’t panic, but forgive me if I do. I’ve never found myself in black woods with a disappearing path.”

“We’re going to continue.” 

You snapped at him. 

“It’s a trap, but she’s testing me,” Chan said determinedly. “She’s testing what I’ll do now. And I say we continue straight onwards, where the woods grow even thicker.”

You had no time to protest as he pulled your arm. 

“If she’s living in confinement, she has to be where the woods are almost impenetrable.” Chan’s hand rested on your back again. “She refuses to be found.”

“Except by you.” 

“Because it’s my curse to break. And I want it broken.” 

A bright light danced around you.

You held your sword out while covering your eyes, Chan’s grip on you tightening. It was as if you were sucked out of this world, but before the feeling could settle it was gone. 

The deafening silence was replaced by the crackling of a hearth. 

Your heart burned in your ribcage when you looked up, but there was no one there. You pushed Chan behind you and checked every nook and cranny of the room. 

“You don’t need that here.”

You and Chan yelped. You snapped towards the sound and looked right in the eyes of a slender woman, black hair flowing around her graciously. 

She bowed her head. “Your Royal Highness. I’ve been expecting you for a while.”

He swallowed and squeezed your waist. “Is that so?” 

Her hand waved to the chairs. “Sit down, please. We have a lot to talk about.” Her smile was comforting and you hated that you started warming up to her already. It was exactly what she wanted. 

The witch held the kettle up. “Tea?”

“If you don’t mind, we skip the tea party,” you cut in. “I would like to believe you’re a very kind woman, but we have reason to assume otherwise.”

“Of course you do. That’s why you’re here, aren’t you?” She smiled at you. “You look just like your father, sweetheart. He should be very proud to have raised such a strong yet graceful young woman.” 

Chan snorted.

You shot him a glare. 

“What? She called you graceful. Should we tell her about all of the dresses you ruined during sword practice, or your first time in heels?” 

The witch chuckled. “You go way back, don’t you? You seem to be very well acquainted.” 

You cleared your throat and shuffled away from him. 

“I see.” She folded her hands together and smiled. “Tell me, Your Royal Highness, what can I do for you?”

“Gee, let me think.” Chan rubbed his chin. “I am cursed, causing me to turn into a werewolf every full moon. Tea, perhaps?” 

“You have your mother’s wits.” She sat down and crossed one leg over the other. 

You scanned her face, but she didn’t move a muscle. You swung the sword over your shoulder and leaned on one hip, lingering behind Chan. 

“What you can do for me is tell me how to break the curse,” Chan said with crossed arms. “I don’t know what else you expected.” 

The witch leaned back in her chair. “Why is it you crossed the land for this, Chan?”

He scoffed. “Because this curse is undeserved, why else?” 

She leaned on her hand and bobbed her head. 

“I don’t know what vendetta you have against my father, but what did I do to you?” 

“It’s his punishment, nothing personal against you.” 

You glanced at Chan, whose eyes hardened. You held the sword by your side, squeezing the handle. 

She turned to you with a smile. “You can put the sword down, dear. I’m not here to kidnap, kill nor trap you, whatever the king has promised you I’d do.” 

“We’ll see.”

The witch leaned forward. “When you break a deal, Chan,” her eyes pierced right through him. “there’s certain consequences that befall upon you.” She leaned back in her seat again and waved her hand as if the subject was laid to rest. “Ask your parents. I’m sure they’re no strangers to it.”

He opened his mouth. 

“The details of my encounter with the king serve you no purpose. Why are you here?”

Chan balled his fists. “Because this curse controls every aspect of my life, and everything I do is carefully curated around a full moon. That is no way to live now, is it?” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you really here, Chan?” 

You glanced aside, your heart pulsing in your ears. 

He swallowed harshly and looked away. 

The witch inhaled sharply and got up. “Well, if that’s something you do not wish to share, then there’s no use of me helping you.”

“Wait.” You walked up to her. “You’re just giving up on him?” 

“He’s giving up on himself, if anything.” She smiled at you. “You did the right thing by coming here anyway, sweetheart. You have no idea what change you two are bringing forth.”

You looked back at Chan, whose eyes were lowered. As you walked up to him, you tossed the sword to your side. You cupped his cheeks, making him look up. “Listen, whatever choice you’re about to make now, I support it okay? But you’ve already put in so much work, so please, for yourself, don’t throw it all away now.” 

He looked at you with a faint smile, tears glimmering behind his eyes. “I finally felt like I was making my own choice by coming here. By taking control of my life instead of living the life that I thought I needed to live to be happy.” A tear escaped his eye. “I can’t be happy like this and for the first time in my life, I prioritise my needs above someone else’s. I want this curse to be broken, for myself and for my family.” 

You smiled and wiped his tear away. “And we are going to make sure this curse breaks. You’ll never have to do this alone.” 

“You just fulfilled the first step.” 

Chan looked past you and peeled away from you. “What do you mean?” 

You turned around to the witch as well and eyed her curiously. 

“You took the reigns of life in your own hands without crawling back,” she told him. “Only we ourselves can control our own fates. What others do, is up to them.” 

“Do you mean…” 

She gave him a faint smile. “You can only break your own curse, Chan. Your family has to seek me out themselves, or find the solution on their own, to break theirs.” 

“How do I do it?” Chan waved his hand. “Break my curse.” 

“By doing just that.” She smiled. “And you have the right person by your side, that is all you’ll need.” 

The room fell silent, apart from the crackling fire. You glanced at Chan and then at the witch, but you refrained from saying anything. 

Chan thanked her with a weak smile and told her you’d be on your away again. “It’s a long way back to the castle,” he said. “We better make haste.”

“I’ll help you on your way.” 

And before you knew it, you were back at the carriage. 

You’d doubted – even in his childhood – that Chan had ever had a lecture of that capacity. 

His mother went off on him, telling him that he could’ve died. She yelled about how it was inconsiderate of him, that he was in no position to step out of line. Whenever the king wanted to intervene, her screams shut him right up. There was almost a literal fire spitting behind her eyes that made even Jihoon shiver. 

Jihoon, who was staring his younger brother down without a thought behind his eyes. When he looked at you, you had trouble believing that he was even real. 

The king tried once again, but his wife almost literally gagged him. 

She moved on to how he deserved the failed attempt. That was what he got for going against her wishes, against his family. You bit your tongue harshly when she ripped into him about his curse. That he must deserve to live with it because it clearly hadn’t worked. She’d never even believed it would.

You balled your fist and looked away, the anger burning in your ribcage.  

And Chan? He was just taking it all in. He was completely fine with his mother talking to him like that. 

“Darling–”

“Don’t get me started on you, Jiu,” The queen continued, her voice rumbling in her throat. “If it wasn’t for your recklessness, your blindness to the dangers around you, Chan would’ve never even gone up there to try and break the curse.” She pointed at him. “If anything, it’s your fault that we’re all here. You should’ve never crossed that witch in the first place.”

The king glanced at you before his eyes lowered. “I know that I made a terrible mistake when I was young, but I’m trying everything in my might to fix it, Nari. Can’t you see that?”

“We’re all suffering because of you!” She screamed, a bitter chuckle leaving her lips. “Gods, Jiu! Look at what is happening to our family! You can’t close your eyes to it forever! You can’t declare yourself innocent the moment you told Chan where to find her! It’s still you why we’re here!”

“Mother–”

“Not another word!” She bellowed.

Chan flinched, his eyes blown wide open. 

Something inside of you snapped. 

“I won’t understand the concern you’re experiencing as a mother right now, but I will not just stand here and watch you obliterate your own son,” you said tightly. When her head snapped your way, you gulped. 

You shook your head. “No. You can’t intimidate me. Blame me all you want, but it’s getting you nowhere. All Chan wants is to be free from his curse. I will support him every step of the way.”

“But that’s the problem now, isn’t it?” She took a step towards you. “Every time I see him, you’re there. Every step he takes is yours, his breath is yours.” Another step forward. “Is it not enough for you to just be here? To have this position bestowed upon you? Why must you steal his affections away from actual, eligible young ladies?” 

You clenched your jaw. “That is very bold to say to someone who’s kept your son alive the past couple of years, who kept him from transforming.”

“And that is all you should do.” She lifted her chin. “You’re a guard in this palace, sweetheart. That is all you’ll ever be so I suggest you stay in your station.” 

You swallowed and looked away. 

“That is enough!” Chan’s voice hollered through the air. “Have you any respect for her?! After everything she’s done for me?!” 

You fought the tears behind your eyes and crossed your arms over your body. 

“Lee Chan–”  

“No!” He yelled again. “You are disrespecting the only person who’s stuck by my side, who’s been there through every high and every low and I’ve had quite some lows!” 

You looked at him, his eyes spat fire just like hers, but something else sparked the flame. It wasn’t anger, or revenge that he was looking for. 

“I’m sick of your meddling, and you trying to tell me how to live my life! Can it not be enough that I am happy, all the while serving under your iron fist?!” 

The queen marched up to him, but Chan didn’t move a muscle. 

“I should’ve done this sooner, way sooner, but you can’t tell me what to do anymore, mother,” he spoke fiercely. “And you know what? Those eligible young ladies you mentioned earlier? They can never be fulfilling to me, no matter how beautiful or kind, or perfect for that matter.” 

You held your breath when he looked his mother right in the eyes. “I’ve already found that in someone else. And she’s standing in this room with us.”

Your heart shouldn’t beat how it did in that moment, not with the looming threat of the queen’s rule hanging above your head. “Chan, I–”

Chan turned around with a smile. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”

You wanted to say everything, but the words got stuck in your throat, choking on them until you were in tears. 

“The truth is,” he continued and took a step towards you. “I’ve enjoyed her company more than I was allowed to, and it was when she was appointed my guard that I really found myself falling for her. The proximity in which our time was spent is both a blessing and a curse.  The last thing I want is to put her position or her future in jeopardy, but I crave to be with her, and I pulled every excuse I could think of to make her stay a little longer, even if all I was just… admiring her.”

Chan’s cheeks were a deep shade of red that matched your dress, but his eyes twinkled, his smile lighting up the grim room. “I don’t know if I’ve always felt this way about you, but I’m very certain how I’m feeling right now.” He looked at his mother again, his chin lifted in the air. “I love her. I love her with everything I have.”

Your legs felt heavy when you put a step forward, your world spinning until you felt your stomach turning upside down. 

He smiled at you. “I love you.” And he spoke your name with such certainty that every weight that shackled you evaporated. “I want you to know that, no matter if you return those feelings. And I’ll always love you whatever happens between us going forward.”

You gave him a smile through your tears. “You’re a fool if you think I don’t love you back.”

He chuckled weakly.

“I have loved you since the day I became your guard and there’s nothing in this world that will stop me from loving you. They can put us lands apart, put me deep underground, and I will always hold space in my being for you.”

Chan leapt forward and your lips came together in a kiss. It wasn’t a careful peck, or one that made the air grow thick, that left more questions hanging between you. For the first time, the kiss was the answer, sealing the union between you and him openly and loudly. Without leaving you ashamed, or regretful. 

This was what you truly wanted and finally, you could say it aloud. 

A wave rushed over you like a strong wind. 

You pulled back from Chan and snapped around. The white wave faded out in the back of the room and was gone before you could open your mouth. When you looked back at Chan, he didn’t look any wiser. 

“Chan.”

His head turned into the direction of his father. 

Jiu smiled at him. “How do you feel?”

Chan opened his mouth before he clenched his jaws. He tilted his head, his brows knitted together. “I’m fine, why?”

He nodded his head to the window and you both looked. 

The setting sun was making way for the full moon. 

You froze. 

Chan’s eyes darted around the room as he rubbed his fingers together, waiting for what had been coming ever since he could remember. 

Nothing was happening. 

You glanced at the queen, who had an eyebrow arched. “May I speak up or is that above my station as well?”

She huffed and looked out of the window. 

“Speak, child,” the king invited you gently. “That is never above your station.”

“Jiu–”

“If the King says it’s not above one’s station, it’s not,” he told his wife. “Are we understood?”

She lowered her eyes. 

The king smiled at you. “What is it you want to say?”

“I have reason to believe that Chan’s curse has broken just now,” you said casually, but the edge of happiness couldn’t help but come through. “Perhaps a reason for celebration?”

He laughed warmly, a sound you hadn’t heard from him in years. “One of many, child.” He turned to Chan with a smile. 

Chan returned it faintly. “I know this is not the path you might have wanted for me…”

“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy and find someone you love.” His eyes darted to Jihoon, who’d been a silent onlooker of the situation. “For all of you.” 

“Yes, father,” Jihoon answered stoically. 

You looked at Chan and a smile etched into your face. “Mission accomplished.”

He chuckled and slid an arm around you, his hand finding the small of your back. “Accomplished, indeed.”

The next evening, the king hosted a dinner in celebration of Chan. Both of your families had united and the table had been more lively than you could ever remember. Even Jihoon had let a smile escape his lips before he quickly composed himself. 

You’d eaten more than you could handle and you blew your cheeks when the staff offered a glass of champagne. When you tried to decline, they insisted it was the king’s orders so you took it. 

The king stood at the head of the table, the queen by his side. She wore a smile, one that reached her eyes. Her eyes twinkled as she locked into her husband’s side. 

Something happened overnight, as if she’d suddenly snapped out of her ways. You had no trouble believing that after Chan’s curse broke, it set something in motion for the rest of his family. 

“We have shared a close bond over the past decades,” the king started. “I have asked a tremendous amount of you, but you’ve proved to me, time and time again, that my trust was well put.” 

He turned to your father and his smile grew. “Clement, I have a lot to discuss with you. From friend to friend and father to father.”

Your father cocked an eyebrow. 

“Not only do Nari and I want to share the good news of Chan’s broken curse tonight.” He looked at the queen, who broke out into a wide smile once again. 

“Jiu and I also hosted this dinner party in celebration of our children,” the queen spoke, a beat of excitement had returned to her voice. Just like you remembered her, but better. Improved, even. 

You glanced at your mother, who was studying her with a careful expression. 

Your name was called and Chan’s followed. You stood up when Chan did as well, his hand slipping to the small of your back. 

The queen nodded her head at both of you. “We want to give you our official blessing.” 

In an immediate reflex, you curtsied and laughter met you. 

“Come here, you.” 

You walked over to the couple with Chan and watched how the queen wrapped her arms around you. You melted into her touch, inhaling the sweet strawberry scent. 

“I can’t begin to express my gratitude for what you did for my family,” she whispered. “You’ve done so much more than sticking by Chan’s side and helping him break his curse.”

You looked at her. 

She nodded at you with a knowing smile and stroked your hair. “Welcome to the family, darling. We’re glad to have you.”

It had started out as a kiss, a gentle peck as you got ready for bed. 

Chan clung to you, begging for one more until you found yourself pressed into the sheets. His tongue swirled over yours while his hand started travelling downwards. He cupped your breast and traced over your stomach until he slipped a hand under your nightgown. 

You fluttered and felt yourself clench the closer his hand got. A gasp released into his mouth when his thumb rubbed your clit. Your leg twitched, making him chuckle. 

He pulled back, hovering in front of your lips. “You’re eager, aren’t you?”

The thoughts slipped away from your mind while you tried to answer. You bit your lip harshly and tugged on his blouse. 

“So eager.”

“You’re talking too much,” you breathed out and pushed him down. “There’s the action.” 

Chan grinned at you and pushed your nightgown up. He bit his lip and his eyes darted up to you one last time before he sank into you. His fingers graced you in all the right places, moving with a delicacy that made the heat pool in your core, your legs clenching around his head. His tongue swirled over your clit, making you whimper. He sped up and you got lightheaded. You moaned out his name as your climax crashed over you, riding out your high on his fingers. 

Your legs trembled when he came back up, your mouths clashing together as he unbuttoned his pants. You rubbed the bulge and felt it twitch under your touch, making your core flutter again. 

He removed his blouse and sank back on the bed. The tip was already leaking, teasing your entrance when he hovered over you. You pulled him towards you by his shoulders and spread your legs a little wider. “Don’t hold back.” 

Chan thrusted inside, but he couldn’t let out a sound before you kissed him again. Your mouth filled with groans and moans, making your head spin. He pulled back, his chest rising and falling heavily while his thrusts went deeper. When he hit your spot, you moaned. 

“Chan, I–”

“Almost,” he said underneath his breath. “I’m–” He interrupted himself with a moan, speeding up until your skins clashed together.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, clenching around him and arching your back. It was the final straw for Chan and he released inside of you. He thrusted through your climaxes with careful precision, as if he didn’t want to shatter you more than he was already doing.

You smiled at him and cupped his cheeks, panting as you spoke. “I love you, baby.” 

He kissed you. “I love you, too, mín Mani.” 

Chan cleaned you up before he collapsed next to you. His arms were wrapped around you, your head resting on his chest. His eyes stared off into the distance and your conclusion was quick. 

You propped yourself up and traced his stomach with your finger. “What’s on your mind?” 

“I’ve never had a chance to admire the moon,” he said. His lips curved into a smile, all while his eyes were still in the distance. “I now come to realise how beautiful it actually is.” 

You looked out of the window with a smile yourself. “It’s gorgeous, especially when the night sky is clear and the stars dance around it.” 

“It’s almost more beautiful than you.”

You slapped his chest, to which he grinned. 

“Kidding, of course.” 

You let out a yawn and rested your head on his chest again. Your eyelids grew heavy and a blanket was pulled over you gently before you drifted off to sleep, hearing Chan whispering to you in the background. 

As the morning light cracked through the windows, you woke up from a tingling in your neck. You hummed softly and opened your eyes. 

Chan kissed your pulse, sending a buzz all the way to your belly. His eyes flicked up to you and he smiled. “Good morning.”

You chuckled. “If every morning’s like this, good is understated.”

His smile was replaced by a bright grin and he sank down, until he was between your legs. 

“Oh.” 

Chan’s eyes were twinkling. “By now, you should know better than to make remarks like these.” 

You rolled your eyes while your cheeks burned up. “As if you will. There are people right outside this door.”

“Then you should keep quiet.” He dove underneath the covers. 

“Chan–” You gasped when his tongue swirled over your clit. Your legs clenched together, but he pushed them wide open. He pushed two fingers inside and the peat pooled deeply in your stomach. You chewed your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to keep quiet, but soft whimpers escaped your lips. 

You cursed underneath your breath and arched your back when his fingers pushed against your spot. Chan’s hand laid flat on your stomach and pushed you back down. Your head spun as a tight knot formed in your lower belly. Your voice cracked when you called his name, but your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. You throbbed against his mouth, but before you’d ridden out your high, something teased your entrance. 

Lifting your head, you saw Chan stroking his length. “Speaking of eager.”

His eyes flicked to you as he chewed your bottom lip. “You have no idea how badly I need you right now, like this.”

You threw the covers to the side and rose from the bed. “I have a much better idea.” 

Chan’s big eyes scanned you curiously while you made your way over to him. 

You pushed him into the covers and sat down right above his cock, pushing your ass against it. The heat pooled into your stomach when you felt it twitch, looking at the prince with a grin. “So eager.” 

He bit his lip as his cheeks tinted a hot pink. “Please?”

You didn’t break eye contact and moved down, letting him sink into you. You slowly started moving, your nails tracing over his stomach. 

Chan desperately tried to keep quiet, but soft moans escaped his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped your hips. His nails dug into your skin as his hips twitched underneath you. You placed your palm on his stomach as you picked up the pace, the room filling with his moans. 

In retaliation, Chan’s thumb rubbed your clit and you cried out his name. At the very last moment, right before you reached your climax, he turned you around and thrusted into you. As desperately as he fought to keep himself quiet, he fought to keep the upper hand that you were taking from him.

Your lips melted in a messy kiss as your orgasm crashed over you. Your nails dug into his back as your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“You’re amazing,” Chan panted against your lips. “Fuck, you’re so amazing.”

You chuckled and brushed his hair back. “And you’re a mess, Your Highness.” 

His cheeks flushed a furious shade of red. He cleaned you up, taking you in his arms and nuzzling his face in your neck. “I could go for another round.” 

As you were about to dive underneath the covers, the door opened. 

The maid bowed at you both and looked at the discarded gown on the floor. Her cheeks tinted a light pink as she cleared her throat. “Good morning, Your Highness. My Lady. I thought it best to retrieve you from your chambers, as you have missed breakfast.”

You and Chan looked at each other, a smile etching into your faces. 

“There’s half an hour left until you’re both expected in the Great Hall,” she continued and opened the curtains. “Would you like to get dressed?”

“I would love a little more time alone,” Chan spoke with an amused smile. “Is that according to schedule?” 

“Considering that we need to do her hair…” She shook her head quickly. “But if His Highness insists–”

“His Highness does kind of insist.” 

The maid opened her mouth, but you pushed Chan’s shoulder. 

“Don’t bully the poor girl.” You swung your legs over the edge and got up. “I will make sure that I am dressed in five minutes. Is twenty-five minutes for the style you have in mind?”

“Perfect!” She smiled at you and curtsied before leaving the room. 

You looked over your shoulder to a pouting Chan and shook your head. “You’re insufferable, you know that.” 

“And you love me.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” You moved to the dresser, where the maid had left you a dress to wear the night before. It was dark green, matching Chan’s jacket. On the dresser itself was a golden necklace and the Thornmer crest to wear around your waist.

You put on the underdress and the corset before you stepped into your dress. Twirling around, you saw Chan observing you. His smile was soft, but it reached his eyes nonetheless. 

“You look heavensent,” he said. “I hope they always choose dark green for you.” 

Your cheeks heated up and you called for the maid, who walked in with two others behind her. They all stopped in their tracks and their eyes lit up. The two whisked you into the chair and started doing your hair. All their vocabulary consisted of compliments and satisfied sighs when your strand of hair fell just perfectly. 

“I know, right?” Chan called from the bed. 

You looked at him through the mirror, his arms underneath his head and lounging under the covers. “Hey, Lazy. Get yourself ready before Jihoon will strangle you.” 

“I have time,” he said with a smile. “I’ll watch you first.” 

You glanced at the maid, who nodded. She walked over to the bed and grabbed one of his arms. As she started pulling on it, you looked away with a grin and focused on the maids doing your hair. 

“Shall I pull on your legs instead, then?” 

“Okay, okay!” Chan gave in and from the corner of your eye, you saw him getting out of bed. “I didn’t know we would resort to such tactics all of a sudden.”

“My Lady insisted,” she answered. 

You smiled proudly and thanked the maids. Your hair was pulled back into a low bun, two strands framing your face. Your ears were decorated with emerald earrings and the crest was wrapped around your waist with a golden chain. One of the maids had applied a light blush to your cheeks as well. 

Chan was hoisting himself into his pair of pants when he halted in his tracks. He balanced on one leg as he scanned you up and down. “Wow.” 

You bowed with a chuckle. “Thank you. I look quite good, if I do say so myself.”

“Your Highness,” your maid cut in and waved her hands towards the pants. “Before you injure yourself.” 

You looked away with your lips pressed together. 

He grumbled something about people loving to band against him as he finally got into his pair of pants. He pushed his arms through the sleeves of his jacket and slid into his boots. 

The doors pushed open and his secretary barged in. “Your Highness,” he turned to you and bowed. “My Lady, my apologies for interrupting, but you were expected downstairs ten minutes ago.” 

“Well, I guess the groom will have my head regardless.” He held his arm out to you and smiled. “Shall we?” 

You grabbed his bicep with a smile. “We shall.” 

The ceremony had been beautiful, despite the restraint that Jihoon was still showing. He was letting loose on the dance floor a little, swirling his new wife around with a small smile. Although she seemed uneasy about the situation she was in, she laughed anyway. 

You were still clueless what went on with Jihoon, or the guy lurking in the corner of the room who bore a remarkable resemblance to him and Chan. Soon, you’d become part of the family and maybe you would find out, but for now you were happy to stand by Chan’s side, celebrating that his brother married. 

Soon, it was your turn but this day belonged to Jihoon and his new wife, the very people that could very well determine the future of your lands. And you were very sure that your services would not limit itself to being Chan’s wife. 

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Your parents finally made your wish come true when they took you on state visits to the neighbouring Kingdoms. Nytheria had garnered the most interest in you, a land shielded by the mountains that you could see from your room, like it was a veil. Just like Blackspire, it laid by the water – it even held a group of small islands in their territory – but the most noteworthy to you had been what flew over your head when you were travelling towards the castle. 

Nytheria was the only land that had nourished dragons. If you were to believe the stories of your mother, dragons had inhabited all of your Kingdoms a long time ago, but most of them chose to use them for their own selfish means. She’d even told you about special armies of Nytherian knights that would save dragons from the other Kingdoms and bring them to safety behind the mountains. 

The islands were their haven and it was a well known fact, but they inhabited the northern territory of the mainland as well. 

The Royal Family even had dragons of their own that they took care of. It was common knowledge that they were protected in the Veiled Kingdom. 

You’d never seen a dragon in the flesh until the prince and princess showed you theirs. You made a vow to yourself that you’d come back one day, when you were Queen. The princess – also the heir to the throne – made you swear. 

‘I’ll keep you to it,’ she’d said with a wink. 

You were off to Thornmere next, but it was a lot less exciting. The entire land seemed coated in the most valuable gemstones one could harvest and the sight made you wince. If the average Thornmer was like that, you felt no pleasure finding out how the Royal Family would behave. 

Humble and grounded weren’t the values they grew up with. Not like you did. 

You were introduced to the princes, but only one of them was actually likable. He was genuinely interested in you and you felt like you made a longtime friend. Talking to his brother, the heir, was like talking to your castle walls. The absolute kicker of it all? He was going to be your husband when you were both on the throne. 

‘This is necessary to secure our future, Dottie,’ your father had told you. To make matters worse, he had to emphasise his point by using that stupid nickname of his. Dottie. What were you, a mere child? 

You swore there was another one among the princes, but it had been such a long time ago. He probably faded to the back of your mind, his impression unremarkable. 

Once back home, you were thrown back into preparations. The trip was merely a part of it, you were reminded. Your parents gave you more public duties to fulfill, to get to know your people but also so the people could get to know you. You enjoyed being among them and took every opportunity that you got to get away from those castle walls. 

You’d visited the mine workers, the merchants, the blacksmiths, the tailors and the poor. All reserved a special place in your heart and mind, and you made the promise to be good for them once you sat on that throne. 

Now, five years later, your parents had finally deemed you ready for it. They were preparing themselves to step down while you were thrown into the next step of your life. 

The coronation was a big event. So big that the entirety of Blackspire gathered in front of the palace gates to see you with a crown on your head for the first time. For the first time in five years, dread started to settle in your bones and your stomach twisted in a tight knot. You barely slept at night. The only thing that you were occupied with was the burdens you would carry and the crown on your head was the embodiment of it. 

The night before you were going to be crowned, you got sick of it. Swinging your legs over the edge, you hoisted yourself out of bed and slipped into the corridor. You tiptoed to the end and took a right into the office that would officially belong to you from tomorrow on. 

Your parents had been organising their documents for you, your work practically cut out for you. You lit the candle by the door and the one on the desk. Your hand brushed something wooden and when your eyes adjusted, a box sat next to the candle. You grabbed it and tried opening it, but it didn’t budge. 

A lock. 

You pushed your brows together. A lock, so there must be a key somewhere. You rummaged through the desk, pulling on every drawer and searching through every bookshelf. Hell, you nearly picked apart every book, but you couldn’t find anything. You dropped back into the chair with a sigh. 

Where would you put a key when you didn’t want someone to find it? 

Dropping to your knees, you put your palm up and let it brush over the bottom of the desk. You shuffled more to the left to the very corner when something felt cold against your skin. You pulled on it gently, but it didn’t come loose. You pulled again, but nothing happened. 

You grabbed the candle from the desk and crawled underneath, your fingers wrapped around the ear of the candle holder. It was glued stuck and when you looked closer, you saw streaks of white paste. 

Glue. Or wax. Something that made the key one with the desk. . 

You put the flame to it carefully, making sure you didn’t accidentally set the desk on fire.. Your arm grew sore and a pain stung through your lower back, but it finally came loose when you tugged on it. As you put the candle back on the desk, your fingers brushed the key. The front was silky – smooth even. It had hardened up over however long it had been sitting there. The back of the key was dripping in liquid so you brushed it clean on your nightgown. You put it in the box and twisted the key, the lock clicking. 

Your heart raced in your chest when you opened the box. A letter, multiple letters, official documents signed by your parents and…

You shut the box with a loud thud. 

The creaking of the floorboard made your breath hitch in your throat. You quickly took the content of the box with you before closing it up and tossing the key aside. With a small puff, you blew the candles out and tiptoed back to your room. 

Your maid stuck her head around the corner and told you to get some sleep for your big day. Although you weren’t sure how much it was yours anymore. 

You’d pondered over the documents the next hours, making sure every once in a while that what you’d read was true. If it was true, you shouldn’t be crowned Queen. If it was true, someone out there was living a life they weren’t meant to live. 

You closed your eyes, the pressure stinging in your chest. It had to be true. Your father’s handwriting was right there, under every document. He wrote up the name on the birth certificate, his seal was there. There was no denying that this was true. 

You already had no desire to take the crown in the first place and this confirmed the feeling that you’d been carrying with you all this time. You’d never been meant for it, your body knew before you caught up to the truth, aching for something that the void left behind even though you’d never known the person on the certificate. You came later than them, three winters to be exact. It didn’t make sense for you to feel that way, but you did anyway. 

You stuffed the documents into your bag and rid yourself of your nightgown, switching it out for your pitch black hunting attire. You threw your spare cloak around your shoulders and opened your window. Your side of the castle had the laxest guards, barely even qualified for the very simple task at hand: protect the northern part of the palace. When you’d be back with the actual heir, you doubted they were faces you’d see again. 

Descending down the vines that hugged the castle walls, you landed with the softest thud you could produce. Your head turned their way, but they were too occupied with whatever conversation they were engaged in. The road to the stables became the least of your concerns, it was leaving with a horse completely unnoticed that presented the biggest challenge. 

The guards were uncaring, not stupid. 

You closed the door behind you and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Your horse, Rune, was in the far back and her eyes opened when your footsteps neared. You shushed her and brushed her nose. 

“We’re going on a little adventure,” you whispered to her. 

Rune blew her nose and you smiled, peeling away from her. You stuck your head around the corner of the saddle room, scanning the area with your eyes. The stable boy was off duty tonight or he was doing his rounds in the other stables. Either way, you needed to be fast. 

With your heart drumming in your ears, you retrieved Rune’s equipment and saddled her up as quickly as you could. By the reins, you guided her outside. 

“We have to be quiet,” you whispered and Rune obeyed. You tiptoed to the back entrance of the castle – you stumbled across it by pure accident and knew that you weren’t supposed to know it existed – and opened the iron gate. 

It squeaked. Of course the wretched thing did. 

You mounted Rune and rode off in the night, the castle long behind you when dawn came around. 

Medicinal herbs weren't the shipment that most merchants were allowed to transport. There were few in Talon that carried the licenses required of them to be able to deliver ‘exceptional goods’. Said goods were only demanded from people high up or with special abilities. Medicinal herbs were magical in most cases. Magic was what you could only describe as the biggest blessing and curse of Talon. 

You were watching the ship from a distance, a merchant checking the crates as the workers carried them aboard, your arm clutching the bag with documents. If there was one type of travel that would keep you out of watchful eyes, it was the ship full of exceptional goods. They were rarely inspected. 

The big sails were hoisted, meaning that he was about to take off as soon as those goods were aboard his ship. Your window of opportunity was so incredibly slim that you might as well turn back around and give up already. 

The merchant checked the last load of herbs before he signed the form. He gave the paper and quill back to his trading partner and nodded his head once. “Thank you,” you could read from his lips.  

His partner did the same gesture before disappearing off the docks, the workers helping the merchant load the remainders of the crates onto his ship. When they left, you knew that it was your only chance. You had no time to look back. 

You pulled the hood of your cloak over your head and brushed past the people that left the docks. You halted in your tracks, lingered behind one of the workers that had stayed behind with the merchant. 

“I could turn back around halfway,” he said to the merchant, whose probing eyes were in sharp contrast with the way he sucked in the conversation. Relaxed, almost like the worker’s story was going right past him. “The royal family hasn’t released an official speech yet, but word is going around that the princess disappeared. No excuse for our folks to get drunk off our backs.” 

Your heart stopped beating in sync with how the world around stopped spinning. You started taking small steps back, the wooden boards under your feet creaking when you leaned on your heel too hard. 

The merchant’s eyes snapped your way, probing you in the same way that they did to the worker. 

With a hard swallow, you shot him a sweet smile. “My apologies for startling you, sir.”

“That is quite alright,” his deep tones assured you, wrapping around you like the warmth of your hearth back home.  

Home.

You shook the feeling off and opened your mouth, but the merchant was ahead of you. 

“I will see you on my next travels here,” he said to the worker, who nodded once. 

You held your breath as you watched him brush past you, frozen in place. All he did was offer you a small smile and a nod before he left the docks. You turned your head to watch him disappear into the tavern before your attention was back to the merchant. 

His eyes were still fixated on you and for the first time, you didn’t mind the attention. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” you said slowly. 

“Then you paid more attention than I did,” the merchant replied. 

You wanted to laugh until you saw the blank expression on his face. He was serious. Thank the Gods that he was serious. 

“Then I won’t bore you with my observations,” you told him and wiped your hands on your cloak. “I have a small favour to ask of you.” 

There was nothing about him that protested against your presence, yet you couldn’t help but gulp at his silence. If he would catch on – no matter how little the conversation stuck with him – then you would be toast. You had to play your cards as well as you could. 

Your heart exploded out of your chest when you laid eyes on him, seeing a crest dangling at his side. You recognised the deer from anywhere. 

“I was about to board a ship to Thornmere, but I got terribly held up on my way here,” you started and scanned his face. Nothing. From the minutes you spent in his vicinity, that was a good sign. “I am fully aware that you are a merchant so your priority is the goods you carry, but you could save my journey if you were as kind as to take me aboard and bring me to Thornmere.” 

You expected many questions from him; who you were, what business you had making such demands from a merchant. 

“How do you know I reside in Thornsmere?” 

Except for that one. 

You pointed at the medallion at his side, hanging out of the pocket of his sleeveless cloak.  If his medallion wasn’t a dead giveaway of his origins, then his attire was. A light green blouse with puffy sleeves, the earthy brown sleeveless cloak with layers flowing around him, fabrics of green woven into it and his waist accentuated with a multitude of belts. A brown pair of pants tucked into a pair of brown boots. 

He looked down and his mouth formed an ‘O’ shape. “Right, this. I could have reached that conclusion myself.” He shook his head before offering you a weak, but sincere smile. “You’re in luck, m’lady. I was just about to set sail to Thornmere.” 

Your smile reached your eyes. “I cannot thank you enough…” 

“Vernon,” the merchant told you and extended his hand. 

You took it and it took all the willpower in you to not bow. “Call me Dottie.” 

“Well, Dottie,” in one fell swoop, he turned you towards the walking board by the hand. “Hop aboard.” 

With a chuckle, you let go of his hand and boarded the ship. You let yourself drop aboard before you turned around. 

Vernon was still on the docks, observing you. His eyes flickered between confusion and wonder before it disappeared. He walked the plank and jumped aboard, the remaining workers on the docks untying the ropes and throwing them towards him. He took the spot at the helm and gripped the wheel. 

He did all of it like it was breathing, a second nature. 

You watched with wide eyes, nearly tumbling over when the ship took a sharp right out of the docks. You gripped the sides to stabilise yourself and slowly, Blackspire disappeared in the distance, your home sticking out above the skies merely a dot on the horizon. 

Once you were out at sea, you were able to walk up to Vernon even though the floor underneath your feet was rocking you back and forth. You removed the hood from your head, completely sure that no one else was able to see you. 

“You’re wearing official Royal colours,” you pointed out. When Vernon gave you a questioning look, you pointed at his attire. “It doesn’t take the smartest individual in the lands to know that green and brown are worn by the Thornmere’s Court.” 

“I’m under their protection,” Vernon clarified, his eyes on the oceans ahead of him. “That is all the ties I have with them.”

“So…” You tilted your head and let your eyes scan him from head to toe. “This is a ‘hurt me, pay with your life ’kind of attire.” 

“It’s convenient from time to time.” He turned to you, leaning on the wheel with one arm. “And you’re wearing… black.” 

“Well spotted,” you remarked. 

Vernon tilted his head. “Are you from Blackspire?” 

You nodded. There was no lie in that. What else you were going to tell him, you hadn’t thought about yet. You hoped that Vernon wouldn’t ask too many questions. 

He bobbed his head. “Okay. You don’t look the part, but I believe you.” 

There were two things going on inside of your mind. On the one hand you could jump up and down and kiss Vernon right on the mouth for not knowing who you were. The other side of the coin was that you felt your chest sting because he had in fact, no idea who you were. It was way too suspicious, as if he was luring you right into a trap and tomorrow, you’d be right back at the castle. 

Maybe this was why your parents never let you leave Blackspire. 

Vernon grinded the ship to a halt, releasing the anchor somewhere in the middle of the sea. As far as you could see, there was nothing else but water. He motioned his head and walked down a wooden set of stairs. 

You followed him down and stood in his cabin. 

“I’ll make us something to eat,” he declared and told you to sit down. 

You did, on a wooden chair, at a wooden table, in a wooden cabin. Your butt was already hurting by the time Vernon came back and you were sure that thirty minutes hadn’t even passed. Fifteen would be gracious. 

You shifted in your seat and thanked him for the meal, which looked like it had been eaten more than once. 

“It’s not much, but it has everything you need.” Vernon put a cup in front of you, pouring you red wine. He sat down across from you and dove in.

You did the same. More hesitantly than he did, but you ate it nonetheless. The texture was gloopy in your mouth, but it definitely tasted better than it looked. You swallowed it with a sip of the wine. 

“You seem very… accustomed. To this type of work,” you said and stirred your meal. “Have you been doing this for long? You seem fairly young.” 

“It wasn’t my original path,” Vernon told you and took a large sip. “I took over from my uncle.” 

Your eyes were back on your plate. “How so?” 

“He suddenly fell ill a summer ago. My uncle bore no children and his wife had sadly died that spring, so I stepped in because no one else could do it. The other option was selling it and with a trade so valuable…” 

The words hung in the air. You could sense them, but you let them be. You knew what Vernon meant. 

Your stomach turned after your fifth bite so you put the wooden spoon down, leaning on your hands as you tried to keep your meal down. 

“I only travel between Nytheria, Blackspire, Qorath and my homeland, Thornmere,” he continued. “That is my assigned region, the one I am licensed to do business with.”

You kept your burp under your breath, the pressure on your chest increasing. “Are there many of you?” 

“My trade is rare s–” Vernon pushed his brows together when his eyes landed on you. “Are you alright?” 

You waved your hand in dismissal, even though dinner was travelling upwards and you were about to hurl all over the cabin. You blew your cheeks with a small chuckle, swallowing the saliva that drenched your mouth. 

He put his spoon down and sprinted out of the cabin, returning with a metal bucket in hand. 

Your stomach clenched into a hard, cold fist, forcing a dry, painful heave from your chest. When you looked up, you shot Vernon a sheepish smile. 

“Never travelled by ship before?”

“Not really,” you croaked. You did your best to ignore the sour taste in your mouth, but it made you retch again. You nearly folded in half and your eyes stung with tears. “Gods…” 

“You’ll get used to it,” he assured you and took the bucket from you. “Go lay down. I’ll take care of this.” 

You had no desire to find out what he was going to do with the contents and did as you were told, the waves clashing against the ship rocking you into a restless sleep. 

Vernon was right when he said you’d get used to it. By day three – and you had a good two weeks left – you barely noticed it anymore and your sickness ebbed away with every wave the ship rode. 

He did ask about your intentions about halfway, but you brushed it off, saying you were merely visiting a dying relative. He left it at that, just like you didn’t ask about the crates that were travelling with you. Just like your affairs weren’t his business, his work wasn't yours. That understanding had grown between you over the two weeks that you spent at sea with him. 

At night, you had your own quarters. A small, spare cabin. You could barely turn around and there was your bed, but it was better than sleeping outside, where everyone could just pick you right up and bring you back to the palace. 

Your parents must be worried sick and for a moment, even though you were holding the documents, you swallowed the tears. You had to do this. When you came back and you explained everything, they would understand. Your parents had always understood you. Although, the fact that you were aboard a ship with a merchant that you’d never seen in your life would be a little beyond their understanding. 

‘Gods, Dottie. A ship?’ your father would’ve said with an amused grin.

The stupid nickname had become your cover merely because it was the only name you could think of in such haste. The many times you grumbled to your father about you hated it, he would laugh right in your face. 

Vernon had no idea of the documents that you carried with you, that you thoroughly studied over and over again once you closed the door behind you. He only remarked how much you seemed to love your bag and you chuckled at it. 

You nearly kissed the solid ground underneath your feet when you reached Thornmere, hearing Vernon snorting behind you. The air was a lot less salty and fishy, switched out for something buttery with a hint of floral. 

Your eyes scanned the area. The docks were filled with stands and vendors yelled over each other, nearly shoving their produce in the hands of passerbys. There was faint music in the background and the docks were filled with joy and laughter. 

“Welcome to Divites,” Vernon’s deep, calming voice sounded behind you. “You’re going to hate it.” 

You looked over your shoulder, where he shot you a lazy grin. You pulled the hood over your head and waited by the ship, watching how Vernon and some workers moved the crates to the docks. They were loaded onto big carriages, about to be transported to Gods knew where. You observed the horses that were harnessed to the carriages and thought back of Rune. 

You sent her back to the palace when you were outside of the city of Hazken, where you resided. Rune disappeared on the horizon and suddenly, you regretted your decision. You could’ve reached any destination if you just rode long enough. You could reach Nytheria, or go ride all the way to the west and reach Thornmere by yourself. 

Going to Hazken’s docks by foot was even more dangerous, even at the brink of dawn. Again, you regretted your decision and you weren’t even entirely sure why that seemed like a good idea in the first place. It took you half a day to even reach it and the other half to camp out and watch for incoming ships. 

Rune would’ve been long back by now, and your parents knew that you had left your homeland. The very thing you were told not to. 

Vernon oversaw the safe departure of the carriages before you left the docks, strolling towards the stands. “Are you in need of more assistance? Where are you off to?” 

You opened your mouth, but closed it again when your own portrait stared right back at you from the bulletin board, accompanied by a big word above your head. 

MISSING.

Your heart thumped in your chest, your head started spinning. The poster clearly stated who you were and when you disappeared. There was no way that Vernon would miss that. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at the same poster. His brows were pushed together and his eyes narrowed. 

You could still swim somewhere. Maybe Vernon was as kind as to give you a headstart before he would try to kill you. 

You clicked your tongue. “So… I don’t really have a clear destination in mind–”

“Oh, gods.” 

“But I can take it from here,” you assured him. “You are such a dear for giving me a ride and your company was very appreciated.” You pointed your thumb in the other direction and turned on your heel. 

“You’re the crown princess,” Vernon said slowly, as if his brain was still trying to catch up with him. Once it finally did, he went on a rampage. “I… I accidentally kidnapped the crown princess. I didn’t even know you were her. They will have my head if they find out!”

You couldn’t find it in your heart to leave him in this weird state of confusion, so you turned back around. “Vernon,” you called out to him. “You did nothing wrong here, okay? But please, just forget this happened. We won’t ever meet again because I’m going on my own quest and you can move on with your work–”

“You can’t just leave me behind after I sailed you across half the bloody continent!” He snarled. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

As you shushed him, you took him to a more remote spot. The alleyway was dark and it made you shiver, but it was better than having him declaring such things out in the open. “I don’t have time for much chitchat, alright? I need to move quickly, before they find me.” 

“Nope. You are not going to do… whatever you set your mind to. I’m taking you back to Hazken. Right now.” He was about to leave the alleyway when you pulled him back in. “Dottie, you don’t belong here and your parents – the King and Queen, nonetheless – must be worried sick. They will kill me if they find out what I did, but that’s not the point right now.” 

Shaking his head, he grabbed your shoulders. “Your place is on the throne, not here in some shithole city like Divites, or Thornmere for that matter.”

You weren’t going to tell him about your future betrothal before he delivered you on their doorstep instead. 

“I don’t,” you told him calmly, but Vernon was already dragging you out of the alley. “Vernon, please.” 

He wasn’t listening, his grip on your arm firm. 

“You have to listen to me,” you tried again. “I have to do this. I can’t go back yet, not without him.” 

Still nothing. 

“My coronation is a lie,” you blurted out. 

Vernon came to a halt. He didn’t let you go, but his eyes – still spitting fire – demanded you to speak. 

“I found some documents the night before I was supposed to be crowned,” you said softly, patting your bag. “I found a birth certificate among them and official documents stating the child would no longer be a member of my family.” You paused and exhaled through your nose, the pressure on your chest almost unbearable. “A brother, born three winters before me. I don’t know why he was removed from the lineage, or where he is. I refuse to believe that my parents wanted me to discover this, but someone did. All I know is that this person desperately wanted me to find the documents.” 

You felt a tear rolling down your cheek. The confusion, the hurt, the betrayal, all fused into one single drop. “I need to find him, wherever he might be. Please.” 

Vernon stared at you. He started bobbing his head slowly and let go of you. “Alright, but if this is a lie again–” 

“I promise you, it isn’t.” You lowered your eyes with a sigh. “Okay, I just… I need a place to lay low, before they find me.” 

“Come with me.” 

Your head shot up. “Are you serious?” 

Vernon started walking without spilling another word, so you followed him. His lips were pressed in a thin line, his eyebrows lowered like dark thunder clouds. 

You had really ticked him off. 

You walked away from the docks, right into the vibrant city. Vernon navigated through the streets, greeting every other person while you kept your head down, trailing a couple of steps behind him with your only sight being the stone roads. If they stopped you in the street, Vernon could still lie and say he was being followed. That he had no idea who you were. 

You left the city centre and reached the outskirts. It was only then that you raised your head and looked behind you to see what you missed. 

More stone. So nothing. 

“It’s not that special,” Vernon told you. He picked up the pace and you quickly followed him, your cloak floating around you. If he was deliberately walking fast so you couldn’t keep up or he genuinely didn’t notice, you couldn’t make up your mind about it. All you knew was that it made you agitated. 

You had no reason to be agitated with him, to be completely honest with yourself. You used an innocent merchant who was just going back to Thornmere, hanging up a bold faced lie about having to visit a dying relative. You took advantage of his empathy so he could take you as far away from Blackspire as you could. 

“So what if your brother is in Blackspire?” Vernon asked out of the blue. His face was stale, his eyes staring straight ahead. At least he acknowledged you. 

You’d never stopped to wonder about his whereabouts and suddenly it dawned on you. 

“You have no plan going into this, do you?” 

With a small shake of your head, you caught up to him. You nearly bumped into his back when he suddenly grinded to a halt. 

“Let me get this straight.” 

You arched your eyebrow at him. “Or you just stop asking questions and bring me to whatever you have in mind.” 

Vernon crossed his arms and he smirked. “You really have no idea what to do, do you? You came to Thornmere on a whim.” 

Before you got a chance to intervene, he continued. 

“If I would’ve gone to Nytheria, you would’ve come with me.” A laugh rolled off his lips and despite the sheer anger that prickled under your skin, the sound was pleasant. Way too pleasant for your liking. “Oh, princess.” 

“You’re not going to call me that,” you bit back, although there was no true warning behind your words. 

“You don’t know where your brother is. Hell, you don’t even know if you came to the right place at all.”

You rolled your eyes and raised your upper lip. “Well… I just…” You snapped your finger and pointed at him. “Why would they keep a secret child in the land? That is stupid.”

“Or genius, if you observe it from another angle.” 

You scoffed and looked away from him. Again, there was no true warning behind it. You just hated that he was right. 

Vernon kicked in your direction, but he missed. The smirk on his face grew. “Well, princess. I was about to stay mad at you for using me but seeing how you have absolutely no clue where to go from this, I can’t help but to feel a bit better about the situation.” 

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and a half smile. You continued straight ahead, following the path. 

“We have to take a left!” He called out to you. 

You turned on your heel and took the other road, the merchant falling into step with you, watching endless meadows pass you by. Some were completely empty, some were home to horses. You stretched your neck to see, but there wasn’t a farm in sight. 

Compared to Blackspire, Thornmere was quite a flat land. You weren’t used to anything else than hills. In fact, your home was tucked away on one and you could look over the entirety of Hazken. Even a little beyond the city. The palace stood above all of it, tall and proudly. 

Dread settled in your chest and you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“Maybe you’re right,” you spoke up. “Maybe I should go back to Blackspire and search from there.” 

“They’re looking for you,” Vernon countered with a shrug. “When I was panicking, it sounded like a perfect idea, though. Now? Not so much.” 

You kicked a pebble in front of your path. “But what would I do here? I merely have a name. I do not know anything and I fear going around like this will get me caught. They will recognise me immediately.”

“That’s what we’re going to take care of right now.” 

You arched your eyebrow at the merchant, eying him curiously, but no answer was provided for you. You just had to trust him, trust that he wouldn’t lead you into a trap, knock you out and you’d be right back at the castle when you opened your eyes. 

But then you started to ask yourself. What would a merchant in exceptional goods from Thornmere, who claimed to have no ties to the royal family, have to do with a plot to get you back at the castle? Unless that plot did in fact involve the royal family – you didn’t believe your parents wanted much to do with them – then you were inclined to believe your own theory. 

Vernon still had the right intentions.

“Vernon–”

“You can apologise later.” He pulled the hood over your head when you entered the rural area and picked up the pace. 

You had no choice but to follow suit and kept your head down as you trailed after him, nearly running to keep in step. 

Vernon stopped by a small house and knocked on the door, taking a step back with his arms crossed behind his back. 

You lingered behind him and watched how a woman peeked her head around the corner before she opened the door fully. You immediately noticed her off the shoulder burgundy dress, her waist hugged by a black corset. 

“Vernon.” Her tone held a recognition that made you doubt whether she was happy to see him or she wanted him out of her sight as quickly as she could. 

“My sincere apologies for stopping by so suddenly, but my…” He paused and looked aside at you and swallowed. “...friend, needs your help.” 

The woman – who seemed even more reluctant to your company – glanced at you. 

“We go way back,” Vernon continued carefully. “I trust you with my life to keep this on the downlow.”

“I have no intention of gossiping about what you did to the princess,” she spoke and stepped aside. “Please, do come in.” 

Walking past her, a shiver rolled down your spine. You couldn’t explain what caused the sudden uneasiness, but she seemed eager to help and Vernon trusted her. 

“It was an accident,” he told his friend, who looked over her shoulder. 

“Those incidents do not happen by accident,” she remarked, to which he nodded. “Vernon, have you any idea how ludicrous you sound? You cannot write this off as an accident, for it was a very deliberate move to make love to her. I will not involve myself in removing a human life, but if your princess seeks shelter, then I will provide.”

Oh. 

Vernon’s eyes widened to a point they could’ve fallen out of his head. “No. No! I have not–” His cheeks tinted a shade as red as her dress. “Gods, lady. What do you take me for? I am no animal!” 

You cleared your throat, the two had almost forgotten that you were there. “Vernon did not… insert himself in me. He brought me here for…” You paused.

“A disguise,” Vernon added and turned to the woman, whose dress you were growing increasingly jealous of. She looked breathtaking. “Your magic is strong enough to provide her with one.” 

The – apparent – witch scoffed. “The princess didn’t even know your plan. I could be a spy for all she’d know, and believe me when I say that there are plenty.” 

“This is important,” he insisted, her name rolling off his lips as a desperate plea. He was about to drop to his knees and beg at her feet if you didn’t know any better. “Will you help us or not?” 

Her eyes darted to you before landing on Vernon again. “You owe me. Again.” She grabbed a book and walked to the kitchen, skimming through it. 

Both you and Vernon were quick to follow her. 

“I am still improving my potions, but this one will do the trick,” she explained and put it down. She rummaged through her cabinets and cupboards until she found the ingredients she needed, putting them on the wooden counter. She started putting them in one by one, as if it was a deliberate order that she had to keep to. She muttered something and the content of the pot glowed white before it returned to its transparent state. 

You watched in awe. You’d never seen magic up close. 

The witch held the small bottle out to you. “This potion will wear off when you speak your real name out loud. Nobody will see your true form, except for Vernon. I made sure that he can see you at all times.” 

You took it from her and glanced at Vernon. “If she tries to poison me, it’s on you.” 

“I will take the fall, princess.” He bowed and your stomach tingled. 

You pushed it away and downed the potion. You didn’t feel any different, but the glow that formed around you told you otherwise. 

She grinned proudly and motioned her head to the left. “Look in the mirror.”

You did and jumped back. Short platinum hair, reaching just above your shoulders, pale skin and a pair of sky blue eyes staring back at you. Freckles decorated your nose and cheeks. 

You wouldn’t look in mirrors too much before it started freaking you out.

“My friend, you are a lifesaver,” Vernon declared and pressed his hands together. “Thank you so much. I really do owe you.” 

“I’ll collect that debt one day,” she said with a nudge. 

You turned to her as well and bowed your head. “Thank you so much. I will find a way to repay you, okay?” 

“I will see it coming, princess.” 

You looked at Vernon. His arms were crossed over each other, his grin nothing short of determined. 

“Welcome, Dottie.” 

Vernon was as kind as to give you shelter, overseeing the matters on his own rather than giving them to his friend. He talked about trusting her with his life, but there was a sense of carefulness whenever he did business with her. 

You never stopped to ask how he knew such an extraordinary woman like her, owing it to the many arrangements he made since becoming a merchant. 

No matter how hard you insisted, he took the sofa so you could sleep in his bed. You were ready to fight him over it, declaring that you couldn’t possibly let the owner of the house sleep on the sofa. He didn’t outright say it, but you were more than certain that he implied that you hadn’t been used to anything less than a bed as a princess. 

So you accepted your loss, although it was rather his for giving his bed up. 

None the wiser about your brother’s whereabouts, a week passed by while you stayed with Vernon. Nobody had questioned you as his company whenever you were into town, nor had Vernon made it seem that there was anything to question in the first place. 

You shot up at loud knocking on the door, your heart hammering in your chest. From the living room, you heard Vernon making his way to the front door. 

“Good morning, mister Chwe,” you heard a pleasant, deep voice. “House search, as ordered by the Thornmer Court.” 

You breath hitched. 

“Of course, come in.” 

No hint of uncertainty in Vernon’s voice, no panic that started to set in with you. As if they did it more often. 

You muttered to yourself as you got out of bed, not caring that the only thing that you were wearing was a nightgown. As you were on your way to climb underneath the bed, you caught a glimpse in the mirror. 

Platinum hair, blue eyes, freckles. 

You stood upright and wiped your hair out of your face. Right, the disguise. 

“Are you alone?” You heard the man again. 

Before Vernon had a chance to answer, you drifted to the living room and peeked your head around the corner. “Darling? Is everything alright?” The words left your mouth, too easily for your liking. 

Vernon twirled around, his eyes wide. 

You tilted your head with a smile, arching your eyebrow almost unnoticeably. 

“Yes,” he answered eventually. “No need to worry, dear. A house search, that is all.” 

Your eyes darted to the man. You recognised the green and brown attire on the man, who you quickly identified as a guard. 

“Ma’am,” he bowed his head, removing his hat as he did so. “My apologies if I startled you awake.”

“No need for an apology, sir.” You walked over to the men and let your hand brush past Vernon’s shoulders, feeling him tense up under your touch. “May I ask, what brings you here?”

He put his hat back on and stood up straight. “Nothing to be frightened of, ma’am. We’re doing house searches in the entire town, as was requested by the court of Thornmere.” He fished a wound paper out of his pocket and rolled it out, turning it around. 

You eyed Vernon, who didn’t move an inch. He simply just observed the poster like it was his first time seeing it. 

“Blackspire’s crown princess has disappeared,” the guard explained. “She was last sighted in the docks of Visites before she disappeared again.” He put the roll away and crossed his arms behind his back. “We are searching the entire land for her, so she can be brought back home safely. Out of precaution, we are searching every home in case she was hidden away under our noses.”

You ignored the air squeezing out of your lungs, the way your heart was about to explode out of your chest. “Would you like to start in our living room so I have a moment to get dressed? I feel so… exposed, walking around in my nightgown.”

“I won’t disturb you, ma’am.” The guard bowed his head with a smile and turned to Vernon as you sped to the bedroom. 

You grabbed your bag out of the drawer, buried it underneath Vernon’s clothes in the closet. It was the very thing that could link you to the disappearance that they were speculating about. Your parents were probably at their wits’ end and here you were, in a village near Visites hiding under a disguise. Your father’s face pale and his eyes sunken back in his head, your mother barely coming out of her chambers. 

And maybe they found out that the documents were missing. Maybe, just maybe, they were more concerned with getting those back than that they were to get you back. They’d kept it from you for more than twenty years and you were sure that they weren’t planning on telling you anytime soon.

You put on a blue dress, matching the colour of your eyes. You accentuated your waist with a corset, just like Yin showed you to do. When you were done, you floated back to the living room. 

“Ah, miss Chwe.” The guard offered you a smile. 

Your heart stopped. You glanced at Vernon, who looked away from you. Did he just…

With a shake of your head, you addressed the guard. “Would you like a beverage for when you’re done, sir?” 

“That is very kind of you, but my schedule is tight today.” The guard brushed past you. “I shall finish my rounds and then I will be out of your way. You and your new husband can enjoy your time together.”

Yep. He did exactly that. 

You smiled when the guard disappeared into the back of Vernon’s home before you dragged him to the kitchen. 

“I had to do something,” he defended himself as he tumbled after you. 

“Wife?” You hissed, but your heart pounded in your chest. 

Vernon rubbed his neck as his cheeks flushed red. “I’m sorry?”

You wanted to give him a piece of your mind. A very big piece. 

The guard came back out of the bedroom and walked towards you. 

“This is your own grave you’re digging,” you whispered to him before you smiled at him, wrapping an arm around Vernon’s waist. The warmth that was settling in your chest was merely an afterthought before it was replaced by dread, twisting it into a tight knot. 

Vernon’s arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. 

“All clear,” the guard announced and made a bow. “My sincere apologies for disrupting your morning. And congratulations on your marriage.” 

You thanked him and let go of Vernon, who showed the man the door. When the door closed behind him, you arched an eyebrow. “So now what? We’re going into town and I have to pretend to be your wife?”

“You’re pretending to be someone else in general, so what’s a little more?” Vernon shrugged. “Look, I’m just trying to help. This will let you go under the radar completely, and no one will suspect a thing.” He shrugged again. “And you started it by calling me ‘darling’, so if anything, I had to dig us a way out of it.”

You hated how right he was. 

“But why are you doing this?” You countered. “I’ve taken advantage of your empathy by hanging up some kind of sob story about a dying relative, you took me aboard without knowing who I was and now you’re helping me disappear. Even though you have all the right to be mad at me, to hate me.”

“There’s a reason that you ran, Dottie,” he said with a small smile. “Why would I cage a bird that merely wants to be free?” 

Your heart exploded out of your chest, so you looked away from him. “Right, um. I’ll see if the documents make me any wiser today.”

Vernon nodded, the words that were on his mind were swallowed.

You settled on the couch with the bag, observing every detail in hopes of discovering something new. All that happened was the hope sinking to your shoes and your chest started to feel heavy. 

“Hey.” 

You snapped up, Vernon standing in front of you with a cup of tea. You took it from him with a weak smile and wrapped your hands around it. 

He sat next to you with his own cup, but didn’t say anything so the house fell into a silence. The only thing you heard was the crackling of the fire. 

“Was it really so bad?” 

You shrugged as you stared ahead of you. “I guess growing up in riches isn’t necessarily bad, no.” 

“You know I didn’t mean that, Dottie.” 

The nickname, one that made you roll your eyes before, it made sense hearing it from Vernon. You couldn’t explain why. 

When you looked at him, he smiled slightly. 

“I’ve never felt like being a Queen one day was the life I was supposed to live,” you admitted and played with the folds of your dress. “Growing up, my favourite stories were those of outside Blackspire. I could look out over the Nytherian mountains and I wondered about the dragons, about their knights and what their lives looked like. I was never allowed to set foot outside of Blackspire, so it was just stories for a long time.”

You looked at Vernon with a small smile. “I don’t know what else to tell you, in all honesty. My parents are the sweetest, which is what makes this whole situation so complex. I don’t understand why they kept the documents from me, but it put my feeling of not belonging into perspective. As if my body knew that something was missing.”

You shook your head. “That sounds ridiculous, I am sorry.” 

“We have magic, so I don’t think feelings sound so far-fetched.” Vernon nudged you. “You’re doing the right thing, Dottie, even if you sacrificed your throne for it. You know what you’re doing it for.” 

“Restoring the rightful heir.” 

He rubbed your shoulder, making your skin feel like it was on fire. “You might not feel that way now, but you are more than allowed to feel angry with your parents. They kept this from you, they continue to keep this from you because you found those documents. It wasn’t like they showed them to you.” 

You rubbed your face. “I don’t know how to feel about this, Vernon. This is getting me nowhere and to be frank with you, I’m losing hope that I can ever find him. My parents really made sure that he wouldn’t be found.”

“Doesn’t it state in the adoption papers?”

You shook your head.

Vernon leaned towards you and it was enough to make your head spin. “Can I see those documents? Maybe I can help.” 

You grabbed them from the table and held them out with a sigh. “I can’t do anything with them anymore. There’s nothing else for me to find.” 

Vernon grabbed them, letting his eyes scan the content. His eyes widened when he took the adoption papers. “You’re kidding.” 

You perked up, feeling the slimmer of hope relight. “What? Did you find anything?” 

He looked at the birth certificate and let out a surprised huff. “That lunatic is your brother?”

You shifted in your seat and cleared your throat. “So you have heard of him, then?”

“His reputation precedes him, Dottie. Far beyond these borders.” Vernon eyed you, a sense of urgency clouding over them. “I know I encouraged you to try and find him, but I’m not so sure if this is a good idea anymore.”

“You talk very badly of someone who’s going to be King soon.” 

“He’s about the worst possible option to become one.” 

You swallowed. “I see.”

Vernon put the papers back on the table. “I know where we should go, but I want you to be very sure of this. You don’t want to be there if you don’t have any business in that land.” 

The shivers rolled off your shoulders. You’d heard your parents talking about such a place before. Just one, off the top of your head. 

“What can you tell me about him?” 

His eyes darted to you. 

“About my brother.” You nodded at the documents. “And the person that took him in.” 

“Salome, as she is called, she’s a notorious name around here,” Vernon started. “I told you before what my region of trade is limited to, haven’t I?”

You nodded. 

“Even as someone who’s grown accustomed to… unique locations, if you will, I try to avoid Qorath as much as I can. The entire land makes my senses heighten, in the worst way possible. I have to watch where I roam before I end up dead.” His chest rose and fell heavily. “That’s where Salome lives and where she raised your brother.” 

You chuckled tightly. “Great. Okay.” 

“Salome is what they like to call a Tally in Qorath. We prefer to call them what they are.”

“Cruel?”

“Murderers.”

“Oh.” 

Vernon sipped his tea with a shrug. “I don’t care what silly term they gave it. You kill people, you’re a murderer. And Salome is the one all the others answer to, including your brother.” His eyes locked onto you with something you could only identify as regret. “She’s one of the worst people I’ve had the misfortune of meeting and I hate to inform you of her existence, but you deserve to know the environment that your brother has grown up in.”

You folded your hands together in your lap. “So what about him? You reacted strongly to seeing his name on the certificate.” 

He shot you an apologetic smile. “He’s not much better than Salome, Dottie. He became a Tally, just like her, and I’ve heard stories about him…” 

“You don’t have to reiterate them, if that was what you were wondering.” 

“Trust me when I say I do not want to.” Vernon nudged you. “I don’t want to ruin your chances of seeking him out by feeding you the information I’ve merely heard in passing. He’s never come much out of Qorath.” 

You stayed silent. 

“I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t want to ruin your hopes of seeking out a man that you feel like deserves to rule your land.” 

“I just can’t stop wondering why my parents gave him up. And that him ending up in Qorath might have something to do with it. But I also can’t stop wondering if he deserved it in the first place, or what my parents based it on.” You buried your head in your hands with a groan. 

“It’s not your burden to carry, Dottie.”

“But it is.” You lifted your head. “These matters were carried over to me, and I’m still expected to be Queen if my brother refuses. What will I do, then? I can’t just barge back into the palace and parade it around. The public does not know about his existence.” 

Vernon shrugged. “I think we should go to Qorath and find out what your future will look like.” 

Your stomach tingled, your lips curving into a smile. “We?” 

“You already roped me so far into this mess, I want to see how it ends now.” He nudged you and finished his tea. “I will get the cart ready. We will leave at sunset. With some luck, we’ll be in Qorath in a couple of days.” 

Before he could bail on you, you pulled him in a hug. His shoulders tensed before he relaxed into your touch, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Thank you, Vernon,” you muttered.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Of course.”  

You let go of him and grabbed the documents, putting them back in your bag. When you looked up, Vernon was still there. 

His brows knitted together shortly before they relaxed. He observed you, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to piece some of it together. 

Your breath hitched when they flicked to your lips. 

“Is it a common thing for Royal Courts to be involved with magic?” His eyes locked with yours, some slimmer of hope flickering in them. 

You hummed. “It depends on which branch, but my parents never actively chased it.” 

“To your knowledge.” 

The words shot a sharp sting through your chest. 

“Have you ever heard of divination?” Vernon asked, to which you shook your head slowly. 

“It’s a branch of magic that focuses on the prediction of future events or the discovery of hidden information.” He scratched his neck. “I know for a fact that the Thornmer Court has sought this out, but it’s a very uncommon practice. Forbidden, in some parts of Talon, even.” 

“Let me guess,” you said lightheartedly. “Qorath is the only land where it’s normal.”

Vernon’s lack of response, not even a smile, made your amusement die out instantly. 

“Gods…” You shook your head. “Wait, so what exactly are you trying to imply?”

“I can imagine, as a ruler, you would want the best for your land,” he continued carefully. “If one’s future is unsure…” 

You shook your head abruptly. “No.” 

“Dottie–” 

“I will not hear any of this,” you spat and got up. “I will not stand here and let you accuse my family of something so… distasteful!” Your eyes welled with tears as you pointed at him. “They might have hidden these documents from me, but they would never seek out magic in this form. Especially not from a wretched place like Qorath!”

Vernon chewed his lip when he looked down. “I did not intend to disrespect your family, Dottie. I just want to help you make sense of their motives.” 

“By accusing them of divination?” You scoffed and crossed your arms. “I can understand your shock at discovering this information, as I have experienced myself. That is no reason to reach such bizarre conclusions.” 

“What is your idea, then?” Vernon stood up to face you. “Tell me, Dottie, what explains this other than a taste of magic?” 

You eyed him. “Counting back, my parents were barely of age when my brother was born. They might have done it out of love for him, to give him a chance at a good life.”

You scoffed at him. “There had just been a war, Vernon. My grandfather had died months before and Blackspire was in chaos because of the war that he started. My barely eighteen-year-old mother came to the throne and needed to settle the land first before it would spiral. They would probably have been terrified to raise a child in such circumstances.”

Vernon looked away. “I did not know that, I’m sorry.” 

“It is not fair where he ended up instead,” you continued. “They might have not realised, but I refuse to believe that magic or Qorath had something to do with it.” 

He bobbed his head. “Then I stand behind that. You know the situation much better than I do and it was wrong of me to assume the worst.” 

You eyed him. “How did you know about the Royal Family here?” 

“Let’s just say that I had a friend inside the palace walls.” Vernon shot you a smile and brushed past you, his hands placed on your shoulders. “Excuse me.” 

Your stomach tingled. You watched Vernon disappear through the backdoor and turned back to the documents, observing the name on the certificate. 

If you were to believe Vernon, he did not end up well. It made you wonder what kind of man you’d meet, if he was truly as bad as the stories told everyone, or if it was a big exaggeration because he was raised in Qorath. 

You’d never visited. Your parents avoided it, telling you that it was a risk to all of you to set foot there. In hindsight, they probably meant that their presence ran the risk of exposing your brother’s existence and they couldn’t have that. 

Or they truly wanted to protect you from everything. Suddenly you weren’t so sure anymore. 

If Qorath had a smell it would be acidic: strong, pungent and making your stomach turn upside down.

You looked at Vernon, observing how his nose crinkled and strands of his silver hair fell in front of his face. His usual attire was switched out for a toned down, cream coloured blouse on top of grey pants with matching boots. He wore a grey cloak, the hood pulled over his head. There was no Thornmer crest and no palace colours. Whether it was out of protection to you or to distance himself from his position as an official merchant, you hadn’t dared to ask. 

You stood out with the blue dress you wore, unwilling to admit that you’d grown fond of it. 

Vernon hadn’t told you to lay low with less vibrant colours. He scanned you up and down, bobbed his head and avoided your gaze, his cheeks tinting a light pink. 

You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him, either.  

At the border, your cart had been turned upside down. By the look on Vernon’s face, it’d been a first for him as well. 

‘Precaution,’ the Qorath guard had told you. For a land reeking of such evil, you found it ironic that the colours of the royal family were white and silver, ones that you recognised in the guard’s attire immediately. 

You and Vernon had gotten off without protest and watched him clear your cart. You were getting back on when the guard turned to you.

“Miss, may I see your bag?” 

Vernon tensed up next to you. When you looked at him, his face was clear of anything. He just bobbed his head. 

You swallowed and opened it, your heart throbbing in your throat. 

The guard skimmed through and his eyes landed on the documents. He halted in his tracks and glanced up at you. “Travels?” 

You eyed him curiously. 

He pointed at them. “If you’re journaling about your travels.” 

A smile formed on your face. “Yes, I do. How kind of you to notice, sir.” 

“You should visit Ameres while you’re here, miss. The view over the mountains will be the most magnificent one you’ll ever see.” 

“I will keep it in mind.” 

The guard stepped aside and moved his hand. “Welcome to Qorath.” 

Vernon thanked him and whipped the reins gently, the horses coming into motion. He shuffled closer to you when the guard offered you a smile. 

You closed your bag and exhaled. 

“We should arrive in Kallos by sunset,” he told you. “Have you ever been there with your parents?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never been inside of Qorath.”

“Stay close to me and don’t leave my side.” 

You wanted to tease him, but the urgency in his words refrained you from doing so. Instead, you nodded and looked ahead. The greenery against the surfaces of the buildings did not match the rancid, rotten reputation of Qorath. In fact, the entire land looked like Blackspire’s meadows in the spring, the ones that you hid in when you were playing hide-and-seek with your father as a child.

A dread settled into your chest. What would your brother even think, coming here unannounced declaring that he was the true Blackspirian heir? Hell, if Qorath lived up to its reputation, they knew everything about everyone. He would see that you looked nothing like the princess that was missing. 

The princess that was supposed to be Queen. 

“Vernon, can we stop very quickly?”

The cart grinded to a halt and you hopped off, your arms tightly hugging your chest. Tears stung behind your eyes so you looked up at the sky. “Gods…” 

“Dottie?” 

Your chest tightened. “I’m fine,” your voice cracked. “Just give me a minute.” 

Vernon stood behind you and a pit formed in your stomach. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “We can still go back, if it’s too much.”

“What will he think?” You turned around to face him. “I show up to tell him that he should’ve been king instead of me, he will probably hate me for not showing up sooner.”

“It’s not your fault, okay?” Vernon tucked a lock behind your ear as he looked at you. “Maybe he gets mad, but you’re the wrong person to take his frustration out on. You should not take that personally.”

“I still feel guilty.”

He pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. 

You melted into his touch and closed your eyes. “I want to give him the life he deserves, Vernon… He can get out of here if he wants to, so why shouldn’t I help him…?” 

“I know, Dottie.” He brushed your hair with a hum. “You can give him the choice, but you can’t force him. This is all he’s known and it wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t trust you.” 

“But I don’t want to go back.” You looked up at him and wiped a tear away. “I won’t give up on him.” 

Vernon’s lips curved into a smile and he nodded. He let go of you, but his hand lingered on your shoulder for a while. 

Your cheeks heated up and you peeled away, brushing the folds of your dress. “We may continue.”

“Yeah, um. We shall.” 

You walked towards the cart and lifted your dress off the ground. Vernon extended a hand to you and you took it. The touch was brief, but electrifying, the spark setting your soul on fire. Your fingers brushed past each other when you let go. As you sat down, he hopped on as well and you were on your way again. 

Even after seeing nothing else, the greenery continued to capture your attention. It was taken care of, it bloomed like nothing you’d ever seen in your own land. When you tried to look closer, it was like it was keeping you from doing so, planting the idea in your head that you just had to take it at face value. 

Maybe this was the part about Qorath that made everyone stay. If you didn’t try to look into it, nothing was wrong. Blissful ignorance to survive another day. 

“You’ve grown up with stories, right?” 

You glanced aside and nodded. 

“What stories have you heard about Qorath’s royal family?” Vernon asked again. 

“Father told me once that the people of Qorath barely know their king and queen,” you started and folded your hands in your lap. “But the king has a voice that makes it impossible to turn away and the queen looks ethereal, like she isn’t from here. She has a shine about her that makes her feel like the angel on everyone’s shoulder. The princesses are sent by the gods themselves, unearthly like their mother and alluring like their father.” 

You looked ahead of you. “They only come out to see their people once a year, on the anniversary of their ascension. Father managed to tell me that there’s speculation about their true natures, because they eye younger every year they appear in front of their subjects. As if they’re aging backwards. The princesses look like they haven’t aged a day beyond their eighteenth birthday.” 

When you locked eyes with Vernon, your heart jumped. “Of course, these are just stories,” you continued. “But seeing the royal family outside of the anniversary is rare, if not impossible.” 

“As a princess yourself,” Vernon started. “Has anything about that caught your attention?” 

“I could never understand why they wouldn’t be more involved with their people, which is a value I’ve been taught growing up.” You hummed. “I realised that not every prince or princess is as fortunate to have an upbringing like I had, where my independence was as valuable as my future. Especially as the heir.” 

The word rotted in your mouth. 

You shook your head. “I wonder where these questions come from. They’re always so… specific”

“I have my own ideas about the lands we reside in,” he told you and steered the horses onto the stone road. “You meet a variety of… interesting people when you’re trading special goods.”

You leaned back in your seat with a smile, supporting your weight on your arms. “Entertain me, sir Chwe.” 

Vernon looked back at you, and you shrugged, a grin tugging at your lips. 

“I am curious to learn about that seemingly broad mind of yours.” 

“That is a way to phrase it.”

“Shall I wield my royal authority to get you to talk?”

Vernon arched an eyebrow. “You’re not even Queen.”

“I’m still a princess.” You shrugged. “Still outranking you by a mile.”

“Your disguise says otherwise.” 

You slapped his arm, to which he snickered. “Come on, Vernon. You can’t tease me with ‘having your own ideas’ to leave me hanging.” 

“Alright, alright.” He flashed you a smile and focused on the road again. “I think there’s a lot more going on behind the curtains than we’re led to believe. Something that us humble servants will never discover because it’s a game played by the very wealthy amongst us.” 

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?” 

“When I was Qorath for business, my delivery was to the palace,” Vernon told you, the reins resting in his hand. “The only people I’ve seen were so called advisors and they all rubbed me the wrong way. When I was alone with any of them, I asked about the royal family and the answer from all of them was exactly the same. All the way to the punctuation.” 

He hummed. “It was one of my very first deliveries and the reason I decided to stay in the business.” 

“You’re not a spy, right?”

“No. I just think it’s unfair that we’re being fooled into believing that our rulers are saints, that they’re just like us while some of us are starving in the streets and they’re just watching it happen. Not that I can do anything about it on my own, but at least I can make others aware of this.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked away, your chest tightening. 

“I’m sorry.” Vernon cleared his throat. “That was too far.” 

“I prided myself in wanting to care for everyone in my land,” you spoke softly. “I never stopped to realise that they might feel that I thought of them as nothing more than lowlives and that I tried way too hard to connect with them.” 

You placed a hand on your shoulder. “You are absolutely right, Vernon, even though it’s a very bitter pill to swallow. But since I fled, I…” You paused, your heart throbbing in your chest. “...I have something that I really thought I had until I set foot outside the land. On my own and without a strict royal schedule.”

Vernon eyed you curiously. “Freedom?” 

“Perspective.” 

He patted your back with a nod. “You’re welcome for that.” 

You chuckled. 

“You would’ve made a good Queen, Dottie. I would’ve been honoured to trade under your rule.” 

“Don’t flatter me.” 

Vernon shot you a small smile as he brushed your arm. The touch set your skin on fire, no matter what his intention behind it had been. 

You leaned in closer to him and he let you, the moving cart rocking you to sleep. Before you knew it, Vernon lightly shook your shoulder. He didn’t say anything, just pointed at the scenery in front of you. 

The sun was setting when you arrived in Kallos, Qorath’s capital city. The greenery that captivated you had made way for warehouses, decorated in high windows. They were at least two to three stories high and the facades had a stair-like progression or gables. They were located along the canal that ran through the middle of the city, all either red, white or black like a carefully curated colour pallette. 

It was unlike anything you’d seen before. 

You got off the cart, your fingers laced together with Vernon’s. Your skin prickled when he squeezed your hand. “You never told me how breathtaking this land is,” you said to him. 

“That is the danger of it all,” was his response. His hand slipped out of your grip and he gave you a nod. He sauntered to the back of the cart to grab your belongings. “We have to get changed if we want to set out to find your brother. We stand out.”

You looked down at your dress before you looked at him. “Why would we stand out?”

“Because they wear clothing covering them from head to toe.” He nodded at your dress, reaching just above your boots. 

Your eyes scanned Vernon from head to toe and you arched an eyebrow. “You mean, I have to get changed.”

He motioned his head to the entrance of the tavern and walked in without another word. He put some money on the table for the owner, who gave him a key in return. Vernon nodded at him and disappeared up the stairs. 

You gave the man a nod before going after him. Something crept up your back, something you felt deep into your gut. You slammed the door shut behind you and pulled Vernon’s wrist so he was facing you. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“Welcome to Qorath,” he responded. “You’ll learn to drown it out.”

You deadpanned him. “Vernon, I’m serious. Something is completely off,” you insisted. “I can’t explain it, I just…” 

“Feel watched.”

Your eyes locked with his, the air punched out of your lungs. 

Vernon’s hands cupped your cheeks. “They keep their eye on everyone, Dottie,” he assured you softly. His eyes flicked to your lips and back up at you. “It might not feel like it, but I promise you that you are safe here with me, okay?”

You lowered your eyes with a small nod. “Okay.”

He wrapped his arms around you, his fingers brushing the silk fabric of your dress. 

You buried your head in his chest and let yourself be engulfed by the scent of cedarwood and orange. It grounded you, reminding you that you were not alone in this. There was someone with you who was willing to go to lengths that nobody had done before. 

People at the palace had often treated you with velvet gloves on, as if you weren’t ready for what the world beyond held for you. You were encouraged to expand your knowledge and curiosity, you were taught to never overstep and always remind yourself that you were lucky to live in wealth and luxury. Lucky to be a princess. Yet, you were treated with the utmost care, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll that would shatter at the slightest inconvenience. 

Being around Vernon, being with Vernon, it was like someone finally valued your curiosity and independence the way you did. Who didn’t try to tie you down in such subtle ways, you only started to realise the moment you truly stepped outside of your bubble. 

‘Why would I cage a bird that merely wants to be free?’

You glanced up at Vernon, who was already looking at you. There was a flicker of something unknown as he locked his arms around you, something deeper than you were used to from him. His eyes trapped you where you were standing, making it impossible to look away from him. You swallowed when something tingled in your lower belly. You clenched your thighs together, shuffling underneath his grip. 

“Am I making you uneasy, princess?” 

Your head started spinning when he called you that, knowing fully well what the intent was behind it. You swallowed again and shook your head.

Vernon’s lips twisted into a grin, one hand travelling up your back. 

You bit your lip and looked away. Your ears burned up when his lips brushed past your shell. 

“I see,” he said in a low voice, his fingers playing with the laces of your corset. “I’m piquing your curiosity.”

Your breath hitched. “I just…” You looked up at him, the warmth travelling to your cheeks.

“There’s no shame in being curious,” he muttered and pressed your foreheads together. “I’m curious, too, Dottie. I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when you’re so close to me, no second goes by without you in my mind.” 

His breath was hot on your lips as he spoke, shivers rolling off your shoulders. He closed the distance until there was barely any left between you. “Allow me,” he whispered. 

You nodded and closed your eyes. 

Vernon’s lips pressed to yours gently, but you pulled him in for something deeper. His hands found your waist again, nails digging through the fabric of your dress. His teeth sank into your bottom lip. 

You parted your lips, his tongue swirling over yours. You pressed yourself up against him, feeling the lace of your corset loosen before it was tossed aside. 

Vernon peeled away and kissed your neck. His lips found your pulse and he sucked on it lightly, his hands travelling down your thighs. He slipped one under your dress and rubbed his thumb over your undergarments, sending a wave of pleasure all the way down to your gut. 

“A proper lady, aren’t you? Most women I know don’t wear anything underneath their dresses.”

“Maybe you have connections with the wrong women, then.” You bit your lip harshly when he pushed his fingers inside, your leg twitching. Your head fell onto his shoulder with a suppressed moan. Your mind blanked out when he pushed your sweet spot, his lips connecting with your neck. A pit formed in your lower belly, twisting so tightly that you whimpered. 

Vernon sped up and nipped on your pulse.

You clenched around his fingers before you released. Your orgasm crashed over you to the point you saw stars. Your knees buckled and Vernon tightened his grip to stabilise you. You panted as you rode out your high. 

Vernon pulled his fingers out and brought them up to his own mouth. His tongue swirled over them to remove traces of you, swallowing them down without breaking eye contact. 

You pushed your thighs together while your lower belly tingled, staring at him with your eyes blown wide open. When he lowered his arm, you strode over to him and crashed your lips together, pulling him onto the bed with you. You started tugging at his blouse again until it broke free from his pants, pushing it up with your hands. 

Vernon pulled away and tossed the blouse aside, pushing up your dress until your thighs were exposed. His lips found yours again in a kiss much more desiring of you. 

You pushed your hips up, brushing against the bulge that was forming in his pants. He groaned into your mouth as he removed your garments. “You’re driving me insane,” he muttered against your lips. 

He pulled his pants down and his cock sprung free. It was already hard, leaking even. 

Your eyes flicked up at him, your heart drumming in your ears. 

“You did that to me,” he grunted and hovered over you. The tip of his cock was teasing your entrance, leaving you wanting more. He pushed inside, making the both of you moan. “You’re doing a lot of things to me, princess,” he muttered before he kissed you.  

You clenched around him, your mind blanking out. Your nails dug into his back as you moaned into his mouth. He pushed deeper, every thrust a declaration of his affection for you. He wasn’t acting on desire alone. He showed you how much he cared, how he longed for you and how good he wanted to make you feel while you were with him. 

You moaned out his name when his thumb rubbed over your clit, a pit forming in your belly again. Your legs twitched as you came closer to your climax before wrapping them around his waist, pulling him closer. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he panted. “You make me feel– fuck–” he interrupted himself with a moan, making you flutter. “You make me feel alive, princess. More alive than I’ve ever been.”

You locked eyes with him and caressed his cheek, your lips twisting into a smile, the declaration making your head spin. “Fuck, Vernon. So sappy.”

Vernon returned it before he bit his lip. He thrusted even deeper and sped up, chasing his orgasm when yours crashed over you. You clenched around his cock and that was his last straw, releasing into you with a moan. 

Your chest rose and fell heavily, strands of hair sticking to your forehead. 

He crashed next to you and stared at the ceiling. 

You turned on your side to look at him, brushing a strand of silver out of his face. “Thank you.”

“I want to take care of you,” Vernon declared. “I don’t want to make you feel like you’re a means of satisfying my needs. That it’s just about my pleasure.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I meant in general, Vernon, not just for making me feel so good.” 

He turned his head, his eyes scanning you curiously. 

“At any point, you could’ve brought me back home. I know the thought crossed your mind when we saw the missing poster, but I meant after that.” You leaned on your elbow, your finger tracing his bare chest. “Thank you for not caging the bird.”

Vernon grinned. “Maybe your name should’ve been Bird instead of Dottie.”

“I would’ve tossed myself out of my third-floor chambers if my father chose that nickname for me.” You smiled at him. “You know that you don’t have to call me Dottie, right? That’s not who I am.” 

He caressed your cheek before pressing a kiss to your lips. He pulled you into his chest, your head resting right next to his heart. 

You let out a yawn and closed your eyes. 

“We’ll go look for your brother tomorrow.”

You hummed in agreement and shifted closer. You mumbled a goodnight to him, letting the warmth of his body embrace you. 

Vernon spoke your name softly before you drifted into a worryless sleep.  

You ran as fast as your legs could take you. Your heart pulsed in your ears, trying to keep up with Vernon in front of you. You bit through the acidic feeling settling in your muscles and picked up the pace, since he had no intention of slowing down anytime soon. 

You didn’t know how close he was getting, but he was somewhere behind you. The moment you would look over your shoulder, you would lose momentum. All you could rely on was your ability to persevere. 

Until there was nothing left in you to fight. 

“They’re too fast, boss!” You heard one of the men screaming behind you. 

“They can’t keep running for much longer!” He yelled back. “We’ve been chasing them on foot since they left the tavern! We’re almost out of the city!” 

Vernon pulled your arm and took a sharp left over the bridge. “Try to keep up, okay?” He assured you. “We’re going to try and shake them.” 

You nodded and laced your fingers together, an electric wave pulsing through your body as he squeezed it. The bright sunlight of that day was replaced by shadows as you let Vernon pull you along through rows of warehouses. From left to right, crossing right through one of the buildings, he tried everything to get rid of them. 

From the other side of the canal, you could see the building you’d just passed while the footsteps thumped behind you. “Fuck, they’re still after us!” You said to him. “They know this place much better than we do, Vernon! We have to think of something better!” 

“We have no choice!” 

You yanked his arm and took a sharp U-turn, running right past the person on your heel. You caught a glimpse of his black hair, neatly tucked behind his ears as his lean, slender figure was hugged by a black three-piece suit. 

As you passed, you heard a loud cackle. 

“Smart move, sweetheart!” He called after you. 

You ignored him and ran as fast as you could, navigating through the narrow paths between the warehouses. One of the doors was wide open and you didn’t hesitate. You pulled Vernon inside and ran up the stairs, hiding on the upper floor. 

Tucked right underneath a window, your chest rose and fell heavily. Your throat was so dry, it hurt to breathe. You closed your eyes and wiped some sweat off your forehead, your eyes fluttering open again. 

Vernon was next to you, panting as he looked on with an amused twinkle in his eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you enjoyed this,” you whispered. 

“Gives our day an unexpected twist.”

You slapped his arm, to which he snickered. “We’re being chased by some lunatic and two random men that appeared out of nowhere and you’re thinking of an unexpected twist?”

“I thought you loved adventure,” Vernon commented. 

“I quite like to dabble in risky endeavours when I’m not on the verge of death.” 

He brushed a hand through your hair, making your already thumping heart jump. He hovered over you and looked out of the window. The amusement in his face fell. “Shit.” 

You peeked your head out as well and looked down. The three were gathered right underneath your building, and you could hear the man in charge talking faintly. Probably because he was yelling at his men. 

You ducked away when you saw him turning around and looked at Vernon. “Do you know him?”

Vernon nodded and offered you a small smile.

You felt like someone pierced your heart with a dagger, feeling it deflate until there was nothing left. You looked out of the window at the man frantically waving his hands at his employees. 

“They must have known we were coming,” Vernon said, his voice wrapping around you like a blanket. “Word spreads fast in a place like Kallos. It is surprising they didn’t find us yesterday upon immediate arrival.” 

“It must have been the owner,” you concluded resolutely. “It cannot be anyone else. The way he looked at us was…”

“Haunting, yes.” 

“Almost knowingly.” You sunk back with a sigh. “I don’t know why I’m even bothered about this. I should think about what to do now, considering they’re on our heels. The very person I need to speak to, although speaking is out of the question considering, well…” 

“He’s absolutely insane.”

Your eyes darted to Vernon. “Yeah, that.” 

Loud thumping on the stairs made your heart stop. 

Vernon scrambled up and nodded towards the bale of hay. “Go sit behind that, I’ll keep them busy.” 

“Vernon–” you tried, but he insisted. You ran to the bale and jumped on it. You looked over your shoulder, seeing him smiling at you. You slid to the ground and landed light as a feather, right as the door busted open. 

That loud cackle again. It made your blood run cold. 

“Vernon,” a warm, pleasant voice rang in your ears. “What an absolute pleasure seeing you here again.” 

Hearing his name roll off his lips was the last nail in your coffin of hope. 

“Where’s your companion?” He asked. “The pretty girl with the silver hair. I didn’t know you had a lover.” 

“As of recently,” Vernon spoke tightly. It was the wrong time for your heart to be fluttering like that. “She’s not here. In all your attempts to try and find us, you lost her.” 

You heard a loud thud, followed by a low groan. You clenched your jaws together and closed your eyes. 

“Don’t lie to me, Vernon.” The boss’ voice was laced in honey and it made you shiver. “I know she’s here somewhere.”

Vernon stayed silent. 

You heard something crack and covered your mouth with your hand. 

“You know,” he said again. “what interests me is why you’re here. You never set foot in Qorath, let alone Kallos, unless you have business. Is it the girl?” 

He kept silent and by now, Vernon should know that it was everything but rewarded. You heard him groaning softly and it took everything in you to not run up to the man and take him out in one swift punch. 

You didn’t even know how to fight. 

“If we end up finding her, it doesn’t matter what you did to protect her anyway. She will die. You will die. That’s the deal I made with mother.” 

Your chest stung. Mother. 

Something rustled before he spoke again. He was probably moving around. “I’m just giving you the choice to die together. Romantic, isn’t it?”

Someone spat, followed by a loud thud. 

“What brings you here, Vernon?” You could hear the growing agitation in the man’s voice and swallowed. 

“She’s looking for her brother.”

“There were official documents in her bag.” 

Your heart pulsed in your ears. 

“Not just official documents, those of the Blackspirian Royal Family,” he continued. “What are you, a simple merchant, doing with a lowlife, stupid girl carrying official royal documents?” 

“Because I’m not a lowlife, stupid girl.” 

The words left your mouth before you had a say in it. You climbed on the bay of hale and brushed off your dress. 

The man turned to you with a laugh, his near-black eyes twinkling in amusement. “Look at that. I guess we won’t have to look that far after all.”

“You should have some more respect for a princess, sir,” you spoke and jumped off the bay and walked up to him. “How else do you think I acquired those documents?” 

“Don’t make me laugh, sweetheart.” He crossed his arms with a grin. “I know what those people look like. I had to study every inch of them, how they dress, how they behave, where they travel. I can say with absolute certainty that you,” he caressed your cheek, making your breath hitch. “are not one of them.”

“But I am.” You offered him a small smile. “And I came here for you, actually.” 

His face fell for long enough to notice. He was quick to mask it behind a thick layer of pretence. 

“In some way, I’m glad you started chasing after us because I had no idea where to look,” you said with a small chuckle. “My ability to think ahead leaves me sometimes.” 

There was a sliver of recognition in his eyes. 

“And in all honesty, I do not know how I will be able to convince you. I’m still grappling with the fact that you are standing in front of me and looking at you feels like looking in a mirror.”

Your brother scoffed and averted his eyes. “Doesn’t feel like it to me.” 

“Three winters before I was born, the Blackspirian King and Queen had just ended a war and Blackspire was in chaos,” you started. “They were fresh to the throne after the death of the Queen’s beloved father, whose legacy was the war he started. Mere weeks after her ascension, she discovered she was with child. She birthed a boy, hair as black as ravens. He was born on the anniversary of Blackspire, a very symbolic day to our people.” 

His head snapped your way. 

“For reasons unknown to anyone, the King and Queen gave the child up and hid his existence from the rest of the world.” You glanced at Vernon, who took you in like you were the only one in the room. “Some theorise it was a deliberate choice after they enlisted supernatural help, others suspect it was the instability of their land that led them to want a better future for their child.” 

“And that child is me,” your brother said softly, to which you nodded. 

“I can help you to restore your right to the throne,” you assured him with a smile. “Don’t you think you deserve it?”

He eyed you in silence. 

“The King and Queen might not welcome you with open arms, but I’ll make sure that your place is up there, not down here.” 

“What about you?” Your brother asked. “You’ve been gone for months. Do you really think that they will welcome you back if they learn what you’ve been doing?” 

“They have no other choice.” You shrugged. “I would’ve learned of your existence one way or the other. I’m glad I did now, before I became a Queen.”

“In the nick of time,” he remarked, to which you chuckled. He managed a small smile himself and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

You held your hand out to him and your chest filled with warmth when he took it. “Let me introduce you to the life you actually deserve.” 

His lips twisted into a grin that sent the shivers down your spine. “Oh, you naïve little thing.” 

You were pinned to the wall, trapped by the person that you’d sacrificed your Crown for. In a moment of hurt, you regretted that decision. You dedicated months of your life to finding him, putting your identity on the line so someone else could live the life that they deserved. Being in Kallos was a risk in itself, and somewhere it stung that your brother – if you could even call him that by that point – had no interest in you. 

Alive, at least. 

Cold metal pressed against your throat, reflecting in the sun and nearly blinding you. 

Your brother’s eyes pierced through you, completely empty. “You know, for a girl trying so hard to be someone that you’re not, going as far as to search for me, you’ve never thought it through completely, did you?”  

You squirmed in his tight trip, the blade brushing your skin. “I’m not a fraud.” 

“I know very well what the Blackspirian Royals look like, sweetheart.” He moved his head up and down. “The day that one of them will have such breathtaking features as yours – and they are beautiful people, let that be clear – is even scarcer than the day I will sit on that throne.” 

“But you will sit on that throne,” you tried again. “The documents they found in my bag, those are the documents to prove it and–”

“Don’t play with me!” He raised his voice, making your breath hitch. “You will regret playing with me, sweetheart,” he continued in a low voice, the knife gently dragging across your skin. “I might have to kill you and you know, I don’t like killing such pretty birds.” 

You glanced at Vernon, who was held up by two men. His face was bruised and the blood streamed down from the wound on his lip. Your heart pulsed in your ears, watching how your brother raised his knife. 

Your name was spoken into existence, leaving your own lips. It echoed through the warehouse, waves of white magic engulfing you, beaming through you. A bright flash lit up the entirety of Kallos before it disappeared, taking the waves of magic with it. 

Your brother had covered his eyes and removed his hands. His blade fell to the ground as he took a step back. 

The men that held Vernon let go of him, their eyes watching you like a prey. 

Your brother raised his arm and they stepped back, observing you from head to toe. 

“It can’t be.” 

“The evening before my coronation, I was ridden by restlessness,” you started and took a step forward. “In my desperate attempt to calm my mind, I stumbled across a set of documents that I was to take over from my parents, our parents, that proved my instincts to be true.” 

Tears stung behind your eyes. “I always felt like I wasn’t meant for the throne, I never wanted it but I was the only child in their lineage. Until I found those documents.” 

Your brother’s eyes glimmered, desperately trying to tuck it away behind a thick frost wall. 

You rummaged in your bag and handed them over to him. “I was hoping you’d come with me, but I see now that your life here is an obstacle, maybe something that you’re not ready to leave behind yet.” You shot him a small smile. “All I’m asking is that you hold onto these, and read them when you feel ready. It’s your decision to make after all, not mine. No matter how badly I want you to come with me.” 

He took them and straightened his posture, the sliver of emotion gone. “Leave Kallos now and get away from me and this place as far as you can. If you stay any longer, I fear there’s no other option than to fulfill my end of the bargain.”

You sniffled and wiped your cheek. “Of course, but what will happen to your bargain?”

“I will simply report back that you have vanished before I could find you.” He looked at you when he turned on his heel, lingering longer than you expected of him. Something flashed across his eyes, but he walked away. The men that he retrieved followed him without question. 

You hurried towards Vernon and helped him up. “Vernon, I–” 

“No need for apologies, princess,” he remarked with a weak chuckle. “I will heal up in no time.” 

You wrapped your arm around him, taking the journey back to the tavern you stayed at. Without exchanging much else, you packed your belongings and shoved the hood over your head, disappearing into the crowd. 

Never to be seen in Kallos again. 

My dearest parents, I have thought long and hard about what to tell you, but I wanted to state first and foremost that I have been doing well since my disappearance. Very well, in fact. I do not wish to burden you with any details until I deem it safe to do so, since there is no saying where this letter will end up.When I get word back from you, I wish to tell you everything. Do not worry about me anymore because I am safe. I hope to be hearing from you soon.My sincerest regards, 

Your Dottie

—

Your own face still surprised you at times. Having lived under a disguise for what felt like a lifetime nearly made you forget who you truly were, as if Dottie had become a part of you. It was her who – against the wishes of her parents – went to Qorath to look for her brother. It was her who dragged an innocent merchant into it, who had now become an integral part of her life. 

You were still the princess, and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to turn your back on the crown. Not since your brother had declined. 

It kept you up at night, and you couldn’t remember the last time you closed a proper eye. 

But there was a strange sense of freedom since you came back from Kallos.  

You’d gone under the radar for the first couple of weeks, hiding out in Vernon’s cabin while he eased back into his usual routine. His job as a merchant meant that he was away for longer periods of time, so you had to take care of yourself. Since your disguise had dropped, the risks of being discovered and brought back to Blackspire were great. You’d taken matters into your own hands.

After your letter to your parents, the posters had disappeared. Guards had stopped looking and returned to their usual duties. Talon went back to its everyday rhythm and your disappearance had been long forgotten. 

You still didn’t trust the situation enough to set foot outside, in case there would be someone insane enough to kidnap you back to Blackspire anyway. 

— 

My dearest, I’m writing from Nytheria to let you know that all is well. I wish the situation safe enough to take you with me, so we can fulfill your biggest wish. One day, that chance will be ours to take. I will show you every beautiful place that you’d not been able to see until there is nothing you'd not visited before. As you’re reading this letter I’m at sea, sailing back home to you. Words cannot begin to describe how much I have missed you, how much I long to be back with you. The days go by so slowly without you around, and I start to realise just how used I have become to your presence. I will be home in a week. Wait for me. Yours forever, Vernon

—

The letters you’d exchanged during his absence had always started out like that; my dearest. He’d grown into the habit of calling you that, even though you’d never formally discussed your relationship since your return. It’d been sitting on your mind since your first day in Kallos, since Vernon…

The tip of your ears burned up. Ill-mannered, your parents would’ve said. No way for a lady – a princess, nonetheless – to behave so beastly. There was nothing beastly about the way Vernon had kissed you, declaring his devotion to you despite the mess he was becoming. You’d called it sappy, but it was all you’d been thinking about since your return. 

There were more unanswered questions, but you laid awake at night enough to not want to think about it during the day. 

Vernon’s letter had been your solace for the week that you were waiting for him. You could smell traces of him on the paper, a faint scent of cedarwood and orange making your stomach tingle. 

You were tending to his garden, bowed over the herbs that he grew. In his absence, you’d picked up a variety of hobbies that were previously left to palace stuff: gardening, cooking, you even discovered how much you enjoyed writing. 

You’d gone out after all, desperately longing for something else than the four walls of Vernon’s home. With the cloak falling over your entire face, you’d set out to the market in the village. Your eyes had fallen on a beautiful leatherbound journal with a feather quill and a small bottle of ink. You took all of it, paying with the money that Vernon left behind for you. 

Whenever you weren’t taking care of his home, you spent your time writing stories. 

“I see that you’re occupied.” 

You turned around and your heart jumped when you looked into a pair of deep brown eyes. You shot up from the ground and threw yourself at Vernon, melting into a kiss as if it had always been your place in the world.

Vernon returned it eagerly, his hands gripping your waist pulling you closer. He rested his forehead against yours with a soft hum. 

You nodded weakly. “I know,” you whispered. 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb and smiled. “I missed you, my dearest. I missed you so much.” 

You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes. How was it possible to ever think about leaving if this was the life you could get used to? 

—

Our beloved child,There’s nothing that brings us more joy than to hear that you are faring well. In the months of your absence, the land has descended into chaos. We were forced to leave our beloved home and are now awaiting our return from the safety of our refuge.Something has changed, alas we do not know what it is exactly. All we know is that there is no way for us to know when we’re able to return and neither should you, for your own safety. If your host accepts, we would love to pay you a visit. You can tell us everything that you’re unable to discuss in your letter.We can’t wait to see you again.Love,Mother & Father

—

You hadn’t seen Vernon in such a state of disarray since he discovered you were the missing Crown princess. He’d been tidying his home the entire morning, muttering about how he regretted accepting your parents’ invitation. You’d assured him that he could decline, just for his own safety if theirs wasn’t guaranteed either. 

‘How can I decline the Royal Family of Blackspire without marking myself a target?’ had been his deadpanned answer. 

You put on one of your new dresses that you bought at the tailor shop with Vernon. A flowy, off the shoulder, dark blue dress accentuated by a corset. You let your hair down, relieved that maids didn’t spend two hours putting it up. You certainly weren’t going to do it. When you came out of the bedroom, Vernon stopped in his tracks. 

His eyes scanned you up and down, making the tips of your ears burn up. “You look…” 

“...too obvious?”

His lips twisted into a smile. “‘Gorgeous’, was my answer. This dress was made for you.”

“Don’t flatter me, Vernon.”

“Just telling the truth.” He moved over to you and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Do your parents like herbal tea?”

“Probably, yes.” 

He squeezed your shoulder and brushed past you, the touch leaving your skin on fire. He walked out of the backdoor and disappeared into the garden. 

You caught yourself smiling and quickly composed yourself. You brushed off the skirt of your dress and sat down on the couch. You bounced your leg and got so sick of yourself that you decided to remain standing. 

You checked on the kettle that Vernon put on the fire, straightened the pillows on his couch and looked in the mirror to freshen yourself up. 

There was a knock on the door. 

You looked over your shoulder, but Vernon was still in the garden. With a hammering heart, you reached for the handle and pulled it down. You yanked it open, just to get it over with. 

Two cloaked figures were in front of you, the dark blue with gold embroidery hard to miss. The hood nearly reached their chins. 

You asked them to lift their heads and the sight was unmistakable. With a nod, you stepped aside. “Do come in.” 

The two figures walked inside and when you closed the door, you allowed yourself to breathe again. 

“Oh, my child,” your mother cried out and embraced you so tightly, the air squeezed out of your lungs. “We missed you so much.” 

You made eye contact with your father, whose smile radiated a warmth you’d barely seen in him before. You melted into your mother’s arms and closed your eyes. “My apologies for the uproar I’ve caused.” 

“We are more than happy to see that you are indeed safe.” She let go, her hands resting on your arms. Her eyes glimmered with tears. “You worried us to no end.”

“You’re certainly not going to like what I’ve been up to, then,” you mumbled and greeted your father. “Father.”

He pulled you into his chest and pressed a long kiss to your hair. When he released you, he just nodded at you. 

“I’m going to make a blend of ginger, turmeric and lemon. How does that sound?” You heard Vernon behind you. As you turned around, he stopped in his tracks, nearly dropping the content in his hands. “Your Majesties. You have arrived already.” 

“The journey had been swifter than expected,” your mother spoke with a smile. She waved her hand. “Please, do not let our presence get in the way of your tea.”

He extended nothing more than a mere smile before hurrying to the kitchen. 

She turned back to you. “Who’s this wonderful young man, dear?” 

“An innocent party in my journey who stuck around anyway,” you answered and motioned to the couch. “Do sit down. You must have come from afar.” 

Your parents did not disclose their refuge, nor did you explain how you ended up in Vernon’s home. You sat in silence, watching the fire crackle in the hearth as Vernon brought you tea. He bowed and sat down in the chair. 

“Your disappearance was so… sudden,” your mother started with a painful smile. “And somewhat inconvenient, the night before your coronation.” 

You shot her a look. “What are you implying?” 

“You were supposed to become Queen, dear. And I deeply understand the burdens that it brings, but we’ve prepared you your entire life for this.” 

You swallowed and looked away.

She put your hand on hers and called out your name. “The Crown has been in our generation for centuries, dating all the way back to Blackspire’s very existence. No matter how hard you try to evade it, you are unable to because it is your destiny. It is what you were born for.”

The care that you could see in your mother before, it wasn’t there when she sat across from you in that moment. You’d always believed that she acted out of your best interests, putting your needs first. Putting you and your family above all else. 

And suddenly, everything that you once saw crumbled right in front of your eyes. 

“Except I wasn’t, was I?” You heard yourself say. 

The air grew thick. 

Your mother retreated her hand, her eyes probing you. You weren’t sure whether she had completely forgotten, or she was trying to figure out how you knew. 

“When were you going to tell me?” You continued, the anger prickling under your fingertips. “After my coronation? When I officially settled into your old office? Or when you were on your death bed, trying to justify yourselves in your last breaths?”  

Your mother stared at you, but you just shrugged. 

“I did what I was entitled to do.” You pointed at yourself, your finger poking your chest. “I did what was right, mother. I do not belong on that throne, I’ve never had and yet, you convinced yourselves that I did. As if his existence does not matter to you.” 

“You have no idea what you’ve started.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that it was deliberate?” 

“Where are the documents?” Your name rotted in her mouth, making your chest sting.

“Exactly where they belong,” you answered determinedly. “In my brother’s hands.”

Your mother muttered something underneath her breath and looked away. You glanced at your father.

He winked at you. 

You opened your mouth, but he was first. 

“When you were to become Queen, this would’ve ended up in your care one way or the other,” he said gently, a sharp contrast to the boiling anger of your mother. “We can’t hide it forever, especially not from someone with your curiosity.” 

He leaned in and pinched your cheek with a warmth that made you shiver. “You did exactly what I expected you’d do. Good job, Dottie.” 

Your mother snapped up. So did you. “You left them there?” 

“After speaking to one of our advisors, I took that course of action. It was only just to try and find the rightful heir.” 

“That child is a danger, to all of us,” your mother raged. If you didn’t know any better, you saw the steam erupting from her ears. “You know as well as I do what they have told us all those years ago and look at what is happening now! We have always sworn to prevent it!”

When your father wasn’t responding, she slapped his arm. “We’re spiralling into war, Claus. She has to sit on that throne, for our sake.”

You released your father’s hand. “This visit was never about me, was it?” 

She looked at you with a fire crackling behind her eyes. 

“You just wanted to drag me back with you, so you have someone to cover your asses for you.” 

“Dear–”

“Don’t dear me!” You bellowed and shot up from your seat. “I have always done as you asked of me! I wanted to see the world, to experience and immerse myself in everything our beautiful lands have to offer, but I sacrificed it all for your wishes! I never once complained, not even when you were planning to marry me off to that rat of an heir here!” 

You balled your first, your heart pulsing in your ears. “I was seriously considering coming back with you. My brother declined to come with me and nearly killed us, thanks to your wise decision to ship him to Qorath – and with his circumstances, I highly doubt that will change soon. But you know what? I refuse.” 

Your mother scoffed a chuckle. “You are in no position to do so, child. You have an obligation to your people.”

“Except they’re not my people. And they never will be.” 

A silence washed over you. Your chest rose and fell heavily, your lungs burning and heart aching. 

Your father had a smile plastered on his face when you looked his way. “The kid is right, Nadia. It’s time that she follows her own path.”

“But–”

“I have reason to believe that we are unaware of the bigger picture,” he said. “This was to happen one way or the other, and all we can do now is take our fates in our own hands.” He turned back to you and placed his hand on yours. “And you’ve done exactly that for your brother, my child. Now it’s your turn to do the same for yourself.”

Your mother’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?” 

“We’ve held up a pretence for too long, sweetheart,” your father told her calmly. “You know that this is not her path to walk down.” He downed the tea in one go before shooting Vernon a smile. “And you keep a good eye on her, she has a habit to flutter about if you take your eyes off her.” 

“I will, your Majesty.” Vernon bowed and locked eyes with you, a smile plastered on his face. 

You returned it warmly. 

Your mother glared at you before she pulled the hood down. “You’re going to regret this.”

You shrugged. “I hope it’ll feel as good as watching you wallow in helplessness right now.” 

She turned on her heel and walked out of the door. 

He got up and pulled the hood over his head as well. “Your tea was excellent, kid. My apologies for my wife’s manners. She is…”

“A bitter woman.” 

Your father only smiled and stroked your hair. “Take good care of yourself, Dottie. I hope we can see each other again one day.”

“I love you, father.”

“I love you, my sweet child.” He kissed your forehead and walked out of the door. 

Vernon’s presence lingered behind you, a warmth travelling up your back. “Your parents are… a treat.”

“Try growing up with them.” You looked back at him. “Are we seriously spiralling into war?” 

He rubbed his chin. “I was at the Nytherian palace and they seemed… uneasy, yes. Since your disappearance, rumour has been going around that there will be an attack on Blackspire. It makes everyone around on edge.” 

“And with ‘rumour’ you mean your friend inside Thornmere’s palace walls.” 

Vernon shot you a sheepish smile, to which you chuckled. He massaged your shoulders with a hum. “There’s a much more important question to ask yourself.” 

“Such as?” 

“What are you going to do?” 

You looked ahead and plucked your nails. “I was thinking of staying here.” You turned around to face him. “With you.”

A smile tugged at his lips. His hands found your waist. “And what did you have in mind?” 

“Travelling around with you, pretending it’s completely normal that the former Blackspirian princess is now a merchant, in love with one, in fact.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked in his eyes. Your chest filled with warmth to see his smile widening. “Let’s just say I want to be with you.”

“Always?” 

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Always.” 

“Yeah, why not? I can live with that,” he said nonchalantly.

You pierced right through his act and pulled him in for a proper kiss. When his hands travelled around every curve of your body, when you were gasping under his touch, aching for more, demanding more, you knew that it was where you wanted to be. Your journey to get your brother might not have worked out the way you imagined it to go, but you found something that made up for everything that you lost. 

You were free. And that feeling was something that could never be taken away from you ever again. 

🏷️: @livmarauder

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Throughout the following weeks, his days became harder to bear with every passing hour. He thought of himself as pathetic for letting it affect him so much, as if someone else’s happiness should be his shortcomings. Still, seeing life play out in front of him so frequently made him wonder how much he was missing out on.

Seungkwan entered the shop early in the morning, storing the load that had been delivered and updating inventory like any other day. He greeted his coworkers that came in after him, helping him set up the shop, per usual. He helped the regulars of that day, watched customers whip in, look around and leave, never seeing them again.

He went home, made the same dinner, watched the same show or hung out with the same friends and he came to realise: his life was actually becoming a bore. He needed some action.

Seungkwan was behind the counter, making the new seasonal bouquets when one of the regulars stood in front of him. He watched her lean on her hand with a cheeky smile, waving his hand to the back. “My coworker is right over there. He can tell you about our new recommendations,” he spoke and held the flowers up. “I’m busy.”

“And what if I want to hear it from you?”

“Then you’re clearly trying to make me feel better.”

She nudged him. “Come on, Droopy. What’s going on with you?”

Seungkwan shook his head with a small smile. “Nothing, just doing long days now business is booming.”

The regular and friend narrowed her eyes, but left it at that. She nodded and pointed to the back of the shop. “I’ll leave you to it then. Your colleague can help me as well.”

He nodded and turned back to the flowers, neatly spread out over the counter. He stuck two sunflowers in the middle, grabbing a bush of thistle and tucking it in gently. With a lily and some dahlias, he finished it off and put it to the side. With another handful of sunflowers, he made one with a variety of yellow flowers with green branches in between.

Sunflowers were the highlight of the summer, resembling them in a way that no other flower could. Happiness, loyalty, adoration and hope, a symbol of optimism that dragged him through the slums of the day.

His coworker slid past Seungkwan and did the checkout with his friend. He cut the branches a little shorter and smiled at her.

As she walked out, someone bumped into her on the way in. She made way for the new customer before flying out of the door, but Seungkwan’s attention was on the flowers again. He put them in a bucket and moved them to the shop window.

Pride rang in his chest when his bouquets were on display. He was at his best when he was assembling them, carefully curating where each flower would go.

Seungkwan heard his coworker sending someone over to him, but he perfected the display until it was showing its best side. When he turned around, someone grabbed his arm for stability.

“Sorry,” a warm voice said to him, chuckling softly. “I didn’t realise you were going to turn around so soon.”

His heart stopped. His eyes darted everywhere but at the person in front of him. His thoughts were racing a million miles per hour and he was unable to make sense of anything. He thought he was over it, he really was.

You smiled at him when finally looked at you. Until it faded a little he was happy that you did, but a pit formed in his stomach when you observed him closely.

Seungkwan felt his face flush– no. His entire body flushed. He rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat.

“Seungkwan,” you said gently, the hint of surprise in your voice made his heart drop. You looked around and chuckled. “Well, it makes sense that you’re here.”

He chuckled nervously and crossed his arms behind his back. “I… Well, here I am.”

You smiled, your entire face lighting up when you did. Your cheeks glowed, your eyes twinkled the same after a decade, scanning every inch of his face.

He could barely stand on his own two feet anymore.

You shook your head. “Sorry, um,” with rosy cheeks, you smiled. “I actually came here for a bouquet. Your colleague said you could help me with that.”

Seungkwan looked over at Chan sticking his thumb up. He pressed his lips into a thin smile before turning to you. “Yes, I can. Do you have something in mind?”

“My manager is going through a tough time,” you said with a small smile. “I know she loves flowers, so I want to give her a nice bouquet to let her know I’m there for her.”

Seungkwan’s stomach tingled, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s very thoughtful of you, actually. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

You wrote it off as basic human decency, for Seungkwan it was his reminder why he was in love with you once.

He motioned for you to follow him and took you to the back of the shop. “I have some bouquets ready to go, but you can also assemble one yourself if you want to add your personal touch,” he explained and turned to you.

You glanced at your watch and offered an apologetic smile. “I don’t have long, so one of yours has to do this time.”

This time. Seungkwan’s mind started racing with possibilities again.

He stepped aside. “I’m sure there’s something that catches your eye, but I have special bouquets for your situation if you’d like me to point them out.”

You watched them curiously. “You do?”

Seungkwan couldn’t help but smile and nodded. He pointed at the white and green bouquet. “All of these flowers represent support, strength or resilience, like the white chrysanthemum for example, and the green rose.”

When he locked eyes with you, his cheeks flushed. “Um… but you can also go for something more cheerful? Yellow flowers, or her favourite colour perhaps?”

Your lips twisted into a smile. “The white bouquet is beautiful, Seungkwan. I’ll take that.”

He nodded and took it from the bucket, taking you back to the counter. “Would you like a card with it?”

You rummaged in your bag and held one up.

“Thought of everything, huh?”

“Ah, well.” Your cheeks tinted a light pink and put it back.

Seungkwan smiled and wrapped the bouquet in foil before placing it on the counter, putting the order in the register. “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee soon?” He heard himself ask. His fingers hovered above the buttons as his eyes darted your way. “I… Mean… We haven’t seen each other in so long so I thought, maybe we can catch up?”

“I would like that,” you answered with a smile and pointed across the street. “That place looks nice. We can meet there around this time next week?” You proposed and held your card against the reader. “I wish I had a gap this week, but I’m packed–”

“Next week is perfect,” he assured you and handed you the bouquet along with the receipt. “I’ll make sure to be there.”

You took it and thanked him.

“You can tell me how much she liked it,” he added with a wink, to which you chuckled.

“Just tell me if you want me to feed your ego.”

“I’ll never say no to that.”

You smiled and waved. “See you next week, Seungkwan.”

He watched you walk out of the shop and his entire body felt like it was on fire. He smiled to himself and fell back into his usual rhythm.

The rest of the week flew by in a blink of an eye. As quickly as Seungkwan opened the shop in the morning, he could close it when the afternoon was almost over. He wasn't looking forward to the moment he would be able to go home. In fact, for the first time in months he was sad to leave the place behind for the night.

Seungkwan kept an eye on the coffeehouse across the street, leaning against the counter. He fixed a loose hair in the shop window, but his eyes darted back quickly. He clutched his shirt, heart galloping in his chest as the time crept closer to 10am.

“You know,” Chan started, “when you asked me to cover for you, you could’ve stayed home.”

“I’m across the street,” Seungkwan answered with a shrug. “Just dropped in to see how you were doing.”

“You’re way too concerned over a business that is doing well.”

When the clock struck ten, he pushed himself up. He tapped the counter and nodded at Chan. “Call me if something comes up.”

“I hope I won’t have to,” Chan replied with a grin. “I would hate to interrupt your date.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, but his cheeks flushed. He walked out of the door and crossed the street. He looked around for a sign of you before he went inside. The smell of coffee and pastries greeted him at the first step. He waved at the barista and walked towards the back.

He halted in his tracks and when you locked eyes, the world stopped spinning.

You were on the couch, two coffees in front of you. Your smile lit up the room, your eyes twinkling.

He swallowed and walked over to you.

You held a cup up. “Iced Americano?”

Seungkwan thought of all the times people told him that he was too clingy, that you would get tired of him being around you all the time, but how could he not when this was how you waited for him?

He took it with a bright smile. “How did you…”

“I hoped I was still right,” you answered and pulled your cup towards you quickly. A grin formed on your face. “Guess what I have, though.”

“Let me think.” He sat down with a hum. “Is it… a cappuccino with oat milk and an extra shot of espresso?”

You lit up and Seungkwan became a puddle at your feet, even though your feelings had long withered away.

“Are you back in town?” He asked and stirred his americano with the straw.

“Since a month,” you answered with a hum. “I got an incredible job offer that I simply couldn’t refuse.”

He looked up at you, a grin tugging at his lips. “‘If you ever catch me returning to this shithole...’”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes with a chuckle, “very hypocritical, I know.” With your hands wrapped around the cup, you leaned back in your seat. You looked out of the window. “It has changed a lot since the last time I was here. I didn’t know it was capable of change.”

“Yeah, well, when a lot of citizens and small business owners leave because you’re putting them at a disadvantage, you have to do something.” He tapped the table with his index finger. “Before this coffee house, there were at least four different stores. We’ve seen them all wither from the other side of the street.”

You hid your smile behind the cup. “Means that your business is doing well at least.”

“I guess it does, yeah.” Seungkwan put his cup down. “What did your manager think of the flowers?”

You put the cup down in a hurry and slapped your hands on the table. “That’s what I needed to remember!”

He tilted his head with a hum. His eyes remained strictly on yours, before he would lose himself in you.

“She loved them!” You exclaimed excitedly. “She asked me where I got them from so I explained, but she’s on the other side of town so she’d never heard of it and I lost your business card.”

Seungkwan’s lips twisted into a smile. “I can give you one later? Is that what you wanted to ask?”

“Yes!” You rubbed his hand and took a sip. “You’re a doll.”

His hand tingled. A buzz shot through his body and his cheeks flushed. “It’s no problem, really,” he managed to tell you. “I mean, we have plenty so it’s not like I’ll miss one.”

You looked at each other for a second before you broke into a grin.

Seungkwan looked away and cleared his throat. “Anyway.”

“Hey.”

He looked your way again, watching your eyes soften.

“It’s good to see you again, Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan nodded and scratched his neck. “Of the same.”

You ordered another round and shared a slice of red velvet cake before you had to part ways. Seungkwan had his entire schedule cleared, even though deep down he knew it wasn’t necessary.

“I have to pick up an order for mum, then I’m meeting with my old friends for lunch, I’m squeezing a workout in there and tonight, I finally have a night to myself,” you told him as you were crossing the street. “Any fun plans on your end?”

“Hoping my colleagues didn’t burn the shop down.”

You pushed him playfully. “Don’t be mean. I’m sure they’re taking good care of it in your absence.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell you that he was barely absent.

Seungkwan pushed through the door and let you pass. He walked up to the counter for a business card, ignoring the look he got from Chan.

Him altogether, actually.

He joined you back at the front of the shop and gave you the card. Watching you observe the flowers made a warmth spread through his chest.

You looked up at him. “These carnations are adorable.” You hovered over them and inhaled. “And they smell amazing.”

Seungkwan nudged you. “You know your flowers.”

“I learned from the best.” You came up. “Can I take some for my mum? She will love the pink ones.”

He reached for the bucket and grabbed some. “I think they will pair well with white.”

“Perfect!”

Seungkwan smiled and grabbed some baby’s breaths and kamini’s to fill the bouquet up, slipping behind the counter to assemble the bouquet.

“He has trouble not working when he asks for a day off,” he heard Chan telling you, followed by your chuckles.

His heart skipped a beat.

“Always had that,” you responded.

“Do you know each other?”

“We dated until I moved away for college,” you said to Chan.

Seungkwan’s cheeks were a furious shade of red, feeling his coworker’s eyes on him. He crouched to grab a piece of paper and wrapped the flowers together.

“For how long?”

“Four years.”

Chan’s eyes burned into him by that point.

Seungkwan gave the bouquet to you. “I’ll take care of it.” You opened your mouth, but he spoke ahead of you. “As long as you tell your mum hi from me, I’m satisfied.”

You took it from him with pink cheeks. “Thank you, Seungkwan. She’ll be very happy to hear from you again.”

He watched you leave, a smile carved into his face that wouldn’t go away for the rest of the day.

Even though he had no way of contacting you.

Seungkwan was a wreck when he found that out. If fate was a thing, you’d walked back into his life five years ago. He’d never stopped to think about which phone numbers got lost when he got a new number, if they even got lost at all.

He never realised that you couldn’t even reach him even if you wanted to, taking it as a sign from the universe to get over himself.

He’d gotten the chance to love you once. His karma had to be incredible for him to be able to love you a second time.

Seungkwan was in the warehouse, spitting through inventory and noting down everything he had to order. He threw out flowers that were withering, putting buckets aside that he would take back to the front when he was done.

His rhythm was back to its dull, unadventurous way.

With a pen tucked behind his ear, he reorganised the storage. Thoughtless, for once, only worried about efficiency and structure.

He grabbed some of the buckets and dragged them back into the shop, putting them by his feet and observing them closely. His heart skipped a beat when he saw white carnations again, but he pushed the thought away.

When he was at the back for the remaining bucket, Chan called out to him.

Seungkwan walked back and shot him a look.

You shot him an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry to bother you at work.”

He quickly shook his head and smiled at you. “What’s up?”

“I don’t have your number.”

His breath caught in his throat, his heart jumping in his chest. Seungkwan scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket and gave it to you. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands off on his pants. “So, how did your mother like the bouquet?”

A smile played on your lips. “As predicted, she loved it. She started bombarding me with questions about you which I could not answer.”

"We have to text a lot, then."

"We'll be caught up in no time." You gave his phone back and pointed to the door. "I need to head to my friend's. Thank you for making time for me."

Seungkwan smiled. "Always."

You waved and walked out of the door.

After taking a week off — his colleagues begged him to before he collapsed — Seungkwan was back at the shop before the weekend would ring in. He was at the back while Chan stayed out front, taking care of the deliveries that had just been made and storing them properly. He took some of the buckets to the front with him to make bouquets, placing them in the shop window for display.

As he was working on a sunflower bouquet, the shop door opened.

Seungkwan looked up an his heart skipped a beat. "Hey."

"Hey there, holidaymaker!" You waved excitedly and walked up to the counter. "Happy to be back here?"

"Back where I belong," he answered with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"My colleague's retiring." You placed a hand on your chest with twinkling eyes. "I was put in charge of getting a present and I wanted to do a bouquet on the side."

Seungkwan nodded and put the bouquet to the side. "Anything particular in mind?"

"She loves the colour yellow?"

He smiled and moved away from the counter, motioning his head at you. As you followed him to the left side of the shop, he spoke. "Yellow is a very common colour these months, so you're in luck."

"It's a very positive colour."

He agreed and pointed at the buckets. "You can do a sunflower bouquet, or you get a mix of yellow and orange flowers to give her. It's whatever she prefers, and what catches your eye the most, of course."

You bobbed along. "Can you tell me about the yellow flowers?"

Seungkwan felt the heat flushing his cheeks. "Yeah, of course." He cleared his throat and grabbed one out of the bucket. "I put a sunflower in the middle here as a focal point. It expresses admiration, loyalty and a non-romantic love."

He pointed at the flower next to it. "I put some marigold in it to represent happiness, some orchids for well wishes and orange roses to break up the yellow. They stand for enthusiasm and energy, in this case."

As he grabbed the other bouquet, he locked eyes with you. His stomach tingled when you smiled.

"I also made one with a yellow dahlia as focal point, but they more so represent a commitment shared forever in this case, as well as the pansies and the yarrow. It's rather a love bouquet, to keep it short."

You pointed at the one in the bucket. "That one fits the occasion more, I'd say."

Seungkwan agreed with a chuckle and grabbed it, walking back to the counter.

"God, it's gorgeous," you breathed out as you followed him. "I almost want to keep it myself."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You definitely should." You held the card against the reader. "Seungkwan, you're a doll. Thank you so much!"

Seungkwan watched you leave with flaming hot cheeks.

Later that week, he got a text from you telling him how much she loved the bouquet. You even forwarded the picture of your colleague, where the bouquet was standing on the saloon table in the living room.

He felt himself slipping away the more he talked to you.

Seungkwan came back from his lunch break, a cup of coffee in hand when he halted in his tracks.

You stood at the counter with a smile, declaring that your friend was getting married and you wanted to congratulate her with a bouquet. Once again, Seungkwan spent his time talking to you about the bouquets he made until you settled for a white one, keeping it simple but thoughtful.

The smile you left with was the same.

Chan watched the interaction and flashed him a grin. "She's becoming our biggest source of income this way."

After the weekend, you stood in front of his nose again. For the first time, you were there for yourself, opting that you needed a nice bouquet in your living room.

Seungkwan didn't mind having you wander around the store for thirty minutes if that made you happy with the bouquet you made. He told you he would take care of it for you and your smile had lit the room up.

That same night you video called him, showing the bouquet standing in your living room. Seungkwan only hung up when you declared you needed to go to bed. If he didn't, you would've stayed up until the middle of the night to talk to him.

Every day that passed since then, Seungkwan hoped that you would walk through the doors.

After two weeks of absence, you were there again. Your mother's friend wanted a bouquet with pink and white carnations just like the one you gave to your mother.

Seungkwan happily obliged and yet again, you were the happiest woman on earth when you left the store. He watched with the heat spreading through his body, smiling to himself before he went back to work.

"That's the fourth time this month alone," Chan commented and turned to his colleague. "And coincidentally, she comes in when you're at work."

Seungkwan arched an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"That — for some bizarre reason — she keeps seeking you out." When he stayed silent, Chan deadpanned him. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me that you hadn't noticed."

He shrugged and wrapped the small rose bouquet together.

"I can say with absolute certainty that even Minghao has noticed."

"What have I noticed?"

Seungkwan's head shot up.

Minghao halted in his tracks, a flannel shirt loosely hugging his slender body and blond hair partially hidden under a cap. His sharp eyes peeked at him curiously.

"Seungkwan has a not-so secret admirer," Chan said without missing a beat. "His ex-girlfriend has been coming in here constantly." He held four fingers up. "Four times this month."

"In my defence, we split up on good terms," Seungkwan cut in. "Ten years ago."

Minghao bobbed his head. "So Seungkwan likes her back, I assume."

Chan turned to him and smiled sweetly, but he just scoffed and put the bouquet in the display.

"That's a yes."

"Chan is convinced she's here for me, but I think she just wants to be sweet to the people around her." Seungkwan shrugged. "That's how she's always been. She's caring, loves seeing people happy. It's not uncharacteristic for her to stop by so often."

"Like the talking isn't uncharacteristic either, just like with you."

He glared at his colleague.

"So just return the favour and give her a bouquet."

Seungkwan's eyes darted to Minghao.

"You seem to know what she likes, you like her. I don't see why not." He grabbed his package from the counter and smiled. "From what I hear, she seems to be seeking you out on purpose. You'll miss out if you don't."

Seungkwan was the only one left in the shop later that week, still pondering over what his friends had said about you. He hated that he was convinced of their case, how it made his heart beat faster. He wanted to find out, to see how you felt about him. He needed to know how much was still left of what you once had.

When he looked at the clock, it was a little over 4pm. He still had two hours to kill until the shop would close, it was as good as cleaned and there hadn't been a customer in over an hour.

Seungkwan decided to put the order in early and grabbed his laptop from out back, setting it on the counter. As he was selecting the flowers, the door opened. He looked up and smiled. "Good afternoon."

You turned around and waved at him. "Hi, Seungkwan!"

He stumbled over his words before he was able to get something out, making you chuckle. God, that was the best sound in the world.

"I'm here for a bulk order, actually," you said and leaned your elbows on the counter. "Is that possible?"

Seungkwan bobbed his head and put the order through before shoving his laptop aside. "It's a minimum delivery time of two weeks, though, depending on our inventory."

"It's in a month so we have time!"

He heard his friends in the back of his mind, his heart pulsing in his ears and for some reason, his ability to think before he spoke magically left him.

He flashed you a grin. "You know, you can just say you want to see me."

"Yeah, actually. For the bulk order."

Seungkwan cleared his throat and shifted his weight to his other leg. "Right, so. We can deliver roses, or multi flower bouquets…"

You nodded. "Well, um, it's a business event so something professional, but fun."

"White, pink and orange?"

"Yep, perfect."

Seungkwan scribbled it down. His eyes darted up at you, but you looked away. "Any preference for flowers?"

"Nope. Go crazy."

He wrote your name above the notes and came up. "I suspect a normal delivery period, but we'll notify you if something comes up."

"Could you send them over to the venue actually?" You asked. "The day before would be perfect."

Seungkwan nodded and wrote it down. "We'll keep in touch."

Your fingers drummed on the counter before you stepped away. You took small, slow steps towards the exit, looking around as if you hadn't seen the store a thousand times before.

He called out to you.

You looked over your shoulder, your hand on the door handle.

"You don't have to keep coming here if you want to see me," he said.

Your cheeks flushed a rose pink. "I like to see you at your best." With those words, you left the shop. You locked eyes through the window one more time and you smiled at him shyly before you disappeared into the crowd.

Seungkwan was reminded of everything that he loved about you.

He was on edge, even more so than before. He was in the shop more than he was scheduled for, all to try and put his mind to anything else before he was consumed by you. His coworkers looked at him funny and he was sure they whispered behind his back, but he could not bring himself to care.

Seungkwan told Chan he would be in to make the new bouquets on his day off and did just that. If Chan refrained from speaking his mind or he sensed that Seungkwan really needed the distraction, he didn't know. Once again, he couldn't bring himself to care.

As he was assembling a rose bouquet, the door of the shop opened.

Seungkwan looked up, watching how Minghao strolled up to the counter. "I was wondering if my favourite regular was ever going to come back," he teased.

Minghao chuckled, sliding his hands into his pocket. "Duty never stops calling. I'm here for a bouquet, like usual."

"I've just been making them." He held a rose bouquet up.

"I don't have to look any further, then."

"Makes my job easy." Seungkwan grinned and wrapped it in foil for him. "Any special occasion?"

"Not really." Minghao hummed and got his card out, holding it against the reader. "Just an 'I love you.' She deserves it every day, but otherwise her apartment would be filled with flowers and she'll go back to hating them."

His grin was replaced by a warm smile. "I'm very sure that she'll love it." He gave his friend the flowers. "Tell her I said hi."

"I will." Minghao saluted him and turned on his heel. He looked over his shoulder and smiled before walking out of the store.

Seungkwan looked down at the flowers. When the bouquet was laying in front of him, he swiped his own card against the reader and put it in the back.

The thought of your smile was enough to make the heat pool in his stomach before it spread through the rest of his body.

He was about to get himself into dangerous waters.

That night, Seungkwan sat in the car in front of your apartment block, hands clutching the wheel. He told himself that there was no reason to be nervous. In fact, this was by far not the first time he'd stood on your doorstep unannounced, but after all those years…

He shook his head, took a deep breath and got out of the car. He grabbed the bouquet from the backseat and shut the car, walking up to the door. His finger trembled when he rang your bell, and his breath hitched when there was crackling on the other side of the line.

"Hello!"

Your excitement etched a smile into his face. He leaned forward into the microphone. "It's me."

"Seungkwan! What are you doing here?"

"Do I need a reason for a visit?"

Your chuckles made the heat pool in his stomach. "I'll open the door for you."

The door buzzed and Seungkwan pushed it open, walking straight into the elevator. As it brought him to the fourth floor, he fixed the collar of his blouse and ran a hand through his hair.

Seungkwan stepped into the hallway and turned to the left, knocking on the apartment at the end of the hall. His heart ached for you, reigniting a spark that he thought had long died out. That he thought he'd left behind when you broke up.

When you appeared in the doorway, he proved himself wrong.

"You'll never guess what I brought you," he spoke, to which you pretended to think.

"I would say flowers," you finally said and leaned against the frame. "Couldn't be too sure."

Seungkwan smiled and held the bouquet out.

You observed it as you took it from him. You lit up, making his stomach tingle. "My favourite flowers! How did you know?!"

"I just hoped nothing had changed."

Your arms flew around his neck, your face nuzzling in the crook.

Seungkwan clung onto your waist for stability. He closed his eyes and hummed softly. "Sorry for barging in unannounced. I just… I don't know. I had to see you."

"Apology rejected."

He chuckled softly and pulled back when you did, observing every inch of your face. When a lock blocked your eyes, he tucked it behind your ear.

Your cheeks flushed, a bright smile tugging at your lips. You leaned in, pushing yourself up on your tippy toes.

Seungkwan met you halfway in a kiss that sealed him forever. Every memory you made flashed before his eyes. It all seemed so innocent at the time, his sisters had even told him that first loves would never last. Theirs hadn't, why would his?

And for years, he believed them. When you left for college and the distance would be unbearable for the both of you, Seungkwan had told himself that it would blow over. You would find someone new, and he would, too.

But after ten years, on that faithful day that you walked through the doors of his shop, he realised that his heart still beat for you. And it never stopped doing that for you.

When you pulled back, his eyes stayed shut.

"I'm free tonight," you whispered.

Seungkwan smiled as they fluttered open. "We should get dinner, then."

Your head shot up and Seungkwan regretted opening his mouth. You observed him closely, narrowing your eyes. They disappeared under a bright grin. “Boo Seungkwan, are you asking me out?”

“Would you say yes if I did?”

There was a challenging look in your eyes that made his heart beat faster. You could feel it if you moved your hands closer. “Shall we try?”

He locked eyes with you and leaned forward. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

"Lead the way."

Seungkwan took you to an Italian restaurant just out of town. He discovered it on his way home, when he needed to take a detour. Overridden by hunger, he went in. Since then, he never went to another Italian restaurant again.

It was cozy, almost like you went into the owners' home. A couple of people were seated here and there, the smell of fresh pasta and garlic dancing all around you.

You looked around you and muttered underneath your breath. "This is adorable!" You told Seungkwan. "And it smells nice."

Seungkwan smiled and placed a hand on your back. "Come on, let's search for a table." He looked down and cleared his throat. He retreated his hand and folded it behind his back.

Your cheeks tinted a light pink and you looked away from him.

He mentally cussed himself out. At least he was making his intentions clear if he let his hand sit there, but the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable. Maybe you were just there to see what there was to rekindle between you.

Seungkwan watched you plop on the couch and smiled, sitting across from you on a chair. "How about we order a bottle of red wine to share between us?"

"I do love a good red wine," you answered and rubbed your chin. "Do they have Primitivo here?"

"The best I've ever had."

You nodded with a smile. "Perfect. We'll get that then."

He gave you the menu that sat on the table and leaned back in his seat. His heart warmed when he saw you mouthing along the words, your brows knitted together. Every once in a while, you bobbed your head. You hadn't even properly registered that Seungkwan ordered a bottle of wine until you had a glass in front of your nose.

Your head shot up and you shot him a small smile. "I was so engulfed in the menu. Thank you for ordering."

"I always eat the same thing here so I don't even have to look."

"I expected as much."

Seungkwan cocked an eyebrow, but you just shrugged. He leaned forward. "Are you saying I don't try new things?"

"Considering your days are always the same." Your eyes flicked up. A smile played on your lips and you slapped his hand lightly. "It's not a bad thing, Seungkwan. Not everyone needs to have an adventurous life."

He stayed silent.

"Maybe that's their way of saying they don't have the right people around them," you said and leaned back with your glass of wine. "Maybe the reason people are chasing the limits is because they're scared to settle down and have enough with the ones closest to them. You never know."

"I didn't know college had made you so wise."

You hid your smile behind the wine, but he saw the corners of your mouth peeking out through the glass.

Seungkwan leaned on his hand and looked at you. "I'm happy to have you back in my non-adventurous, boring life."

"And this time I won't leave." You held your pinky out.

He laced it together with his and pressed a kiss to it.

You were right; he didn't have to lead a thrilling life to be happy, or to make you happy for that matter. In all truth, he was content with where he was. The flower shop was running well and you were back in his life.

Back in his arms.

Seungkwan couldn't remember the last time he looked forward to doing inventory, cleaning the storage or having to order new flowers. His day-to-day tasks became an adventure in itself.

With your bi-weekly visits to the shop, his colleagues were jokingly calling you the mother of the shop. You embraced your new title with open arms, even helping out whenever you had the time.

You were helping to close the shop, dragging the buckets to the back and wiping the floors clean.

Seungkwan couldn't help but admire you as he was finalising his order. When you looked his way, a pool of heat formed in his stomach before spreading through his entire body.

You skipped over to him and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Ready when you are."

He wrapped an arm around you, locking you into his side. He listened as you talked about the event. He smiled when there was a skip in your step, excitement ringing in your voice.

And suddenly, when he looked around him, the world was a little brighter than it was before.

WE WERE EACH OTHER’S EVERYTHING

When it comes to firsts, you and Joshua were each others first for practically everything. He was your first kiss, you shared your first time together, you awkwardly lost your virginities to each other. You were each others first loves and your first heartbreaks.

Seven months, and six days have passed since you walked out the door and never came back. In that time you haven't moved on, you haven't tried to date anyone one. In your heart and soul you're still married.

ITS NEVER OVER

Joshua doesn't think he's ever loved, or will love anyone like he loves you. Watching you walk out of your shared home after an argument, was the most heartbreaking moment of his life.

The first three months you were gone, Joshua texted or called you everyday trying to get you to come home. Slowly the communication started to fade, and now Joshua hasn't spoken to you in three months and twenty-two days.

Since you left Joshua had refused to acknowledge you're sperated. He still wears his wedding ring, and anytime a woman tries to flirt with him he always reminds them he's married.

He's not sure if he can save his marriage or if you'll ever comeback home. He holds out hope that one day you'll come back home.

-

It's another day Joshua is working at the flower shop you both own from open to close. He has Jeonghan helping out running out the small coffee shop that's attached to it.

Today isn't an easy day for Joshua by any means. Today should be your eighth anniversary.

He's spent today burying himself in work. Jeonghan is very aware of what today is. He offered to work open to close with his best friend so he can keep an eye on him.

Joshua is putting the finishing touches on a floral arrangement for a regular who always buys flower for his wife. He puts the arrangement in the cooler before fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Opening his text he goes to your pinned contact. He frows seeing his last message from you was three months ago.

Shua [10:32am] Happy Anniversary.

He stares at his phone knowing there probably won't be response. You’ve barely responded to the last few messages he's sent.

Around noon Jeonghan finally convinces him to at least take a short lunch with him. Joshua's finished up all the early pick up orders and Mina has no problem running the flower counter, and taking orders.

Sitting in the back office Joshua leans back in his chair rubbing his eyes. He hates everything about today.

Jeonghan doesn't like seeing his best friend so distraught. For the last few months he's contemplated begging you to come back to your clearly broken estranged husband. This is your first anniversary apart and he knows Joshua is barely hanging on by a thread.

Leaning forwards, Joshua finally takes a bite of his salad that Jeonghan had ordered him. He can feel his best friend's eyes burning into him, with each bite he takes.

"Why are you here today?" Jeonghan thought Joshua would spend the day at home moping around.

"Because if I spend the day trapped in the home I used to share with her, I might actually lose my mind."

"Shua, maybe it's time you ask for her to comeback or give you a divorce?"

Joshua let's out a heavy sigh leaning back again. "I don't want a divorce. I just want my wife back."

"I know you do. It's just— Shua I hate seeing you torn up like this."

"I know. I hate feeling this way. I just don't know what to do."

"You should go out with me and Seungcheol to the bar tonight."

"Is that a good idea?" Joshua sighs.

"Yeah. I'm not asking you to get drunk, but just come out tonight. I don't want you sitting at home moping around."

Joshua's phone vibrates on the table. He picks it up and sees a message from you.

Goldie 12:13pm - Happy Anniversary.

He truly thought he wouldn't hear from you at all today. He doesn't expect you to call or anything, but he's glad you at least sent him a text.

"Whose texting you?"

Joshua sits the phone down on the table. "Goldie."

"You still call your wife her nickname?" For as long as Jeonghan has know Joshua, he's rarely ever heard him call you by your actual name.

"She's bright like a marigold."

"Your favorite flowers are white roses, I'm still shocked you don't call her Rosie."

Joshua grabs his phone and opens his text.

Shua 12:21pm: I miss you.

"Shua, just go to the bar tonight with me and Cheol."

He just stares at his text you. He can't bring himself to sit in the homes shared, during this anniversary you'll be apart.

"I'll go out tonight."

IS THIS AN ILLUSION?

The sight of you standing right outside the entrance of the flower shop doesn't feel real. Joshua rubs his eyes unsure if this is actually real. It's taking everything in him not to rush the few feet towards you. The closer he gets he realizes you're eyes are glossy and that have been crying.

"Goldie?"

You look up at him and give him a sad smile. "Hi, Shua."

He stood in front of you. He just takes a moment to fully look at you. He was starting to think he might not ever see you again.

"Why are you here?" He stops in front of you.

"I realize I'm miserable without you. I thought I needed to try and be independent, but I understand that's foolish."

Joshua glances around the quiet street. The is watercolors of pink and orange as it starts to rise. He doesn't want to have this conversation out on the street.

"Let's go inside and talk over some coffee." He fishes his key out of his pocket. Opening the door, he holds it open for you.

You look around the flower shop and smile at the site of the bundles of marigolds and white roses together.

"The marigolds are always there because of you." Back in the high school Joshua gave you a bouquet of marigolds and told you they remind him of you. He's called you Goldie since you were teens because of the vibrant flower.

"Are the white rose for you?" You pick a single stem white rose up.

"They're still my favorite flower." He says. “You know they represent new beginnings?”

“Yeah. You gave them to me after our first fight in high school.” You hope that the white rose can represent your future now.

He walks over to the small coffee shop. He turns on the espresso machine and gets to work making coffee for both of you.

This flower shop and cafe is something the two of you built together. This place was just as much yours as it was his before you left.

He tries to focus on making coffee, but he can only focus on you. He's watching you make your way around the flower shop, looking at all the flowers.

He brings over a small tray holding both your iced lattes. Walking over you sit down across to him at small table near the window.

You take a sip of the honey flavored latte. He made it exactly how you have always loved it. "I know I have messed up, am I hurt you."

"You were my first love, and you became my first heartbreak." He responds.

"I know. I broke both of our hearts." You'll never point any of the blame on your husband. Joshua has always been perfect to you. "I left because I never knew what it was like to be independent. I went from living under the guidance of my father, to being married. I've always had a man in my life helping me figure out how to live. I needed to try and be independent."

His brows knit together. "Did you think I was controlling?"

"No, not at all. I just needed space to try an discover who I am. I realized the whole time I was away that my life doesn't make sense without you."

Reaching for the glass you take another drink of your coffee. "I'm coming home. If you would like to continue our relationship, I would love that. I understand if you don't want to. I hurt you, and know that. I can stay with Seokmin and rent a room from him."

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you live with Seokmin. Since the moment you walked out of our home on that raining day, I have hoped and prayed that I would come home to me."

"Don't you hate me for hurting you?"

He reaches out taking your hand in his. "Goldie, I don't think I will fully ever understand why you left like you did. I always thought you knew you could talk to me and trust me. But I could never hate you. I just hated that you made me feel like I was just an afterthought." It's true, he's been heart broken since you left, but he's never hated you.

"Okay." Tears slowly start sliding down your cheeks. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

Reaching across the table he rest his hand on your cheek. He drags his hand across the delicate skin of your cheek, swiping away your tears. "Come home tonight. Let's have dinner and you can stay the night or you can go stay with Seokmin. The guest room is still set up."

"I would like that."

He wants to ask you a million questions. He wants to know what you've been up to, and where you have been living. He's pretty sure when you left you went and stayed with Seungkwan and his wife.

You both finish your lattes. Joshua is lucky you decided to show up after closing. He knows Jeonghan is going to show up soon to drag him to the bar.

"Did you want pasta tonight for dinner?" It's your anniversary and he would like to make your favorite meal.

"That would be nice."

He glances up when he sees Jeonghan unlocking the door and walking in. He didn't know if Jeonghan was coming in or going to call him. As a partial owner of the coffee shop in here, Jeonghan tends to come and go as he pleases here.

"Oh." Jeonghan says at the sight of you sitting with Joshua.

You turn and fully look at your husbands best friend. Joshua isn't aware that Jeonghan has been checking on you once a month since you left.

"Hi, Hannie."

Jeonghan shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. He looks at Joshua raising his brows. He's not fully sure what he just walked into to.

"Jeonghan, um Goldie is back." Joshua stands up.

"Welcome back, Goldie." Jeonghan tilts his head at you.

Jeonghan walks over and hands Joshua a bag. Joshua dismisses him and takes it to the back office. You're left alone with Jeonghan for a moment.

"When I asked you to come back last night. I didn't expect to see you at seven tonight." Jeonghan sits down where Joshua was sitting.

"I knew it was time to come home, your message was the push I needed." You pause staring at the man who had become your best friend as well. "I know you probably hate me, and we probably aren't friends anymore."

He knits his brows together. "I don't hate you, and we can still be friends. I'm just asking that you don't break his heart again."

Joshua walks back out holding the keys to the store. He gives you a gentle smile, before looking towards Jeonghan.

"I'll let Cheol know you can't come out tonight." Jeonghan stands up and grabs your empty coffee cups.

Joshua walks closer to you. Jeonghan walks away disposing of the cups.

"Are you ready to go home?" Joshua asks.

You stand up, glancing over you see Joshua holding out his hand. You don't even hesitate, you reach out lacing your fingers with his.

Walk out of the shop, Jeonghan leads the way. Joshua releases your hand just long enough to lock the door.

Jeonghan says goodbye and heads down the street towards the bar.

ALL THE MEMORIES WE’VE SHARED

Once you're both alone Joshua leads you towards his car. He unlocks it's and opens the passenger door for you.

"I didn't ask how you got here." Joshua pauses.

"Seokmin dropped me off."

You both get into the car. Joshua glances over and gives you a smile before he turns the car on. The drive the flower shop, to your home takes all of five minutes. Joshua parks the car in the driveway and you both get out.

Heading inside your shared home, it still looks like just the day you left. Over by the couch, your engagement and wedding photos are still hung. After you left your thought he would remove those photos.

You follow him as he heads off to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of wine and pops it open. You stand by the sink watching as he moves around the kitchen. He pours to glasses of red wine. He grabs one, holding it out for you.

Taking the glass you hold it out. He grabs his own and raises it. "Happy anniversary."

You cheers your glasses before taking a sip of rich yet subtle flavor of blackberries in the wine.

"Happy anniversary," you respond.

"Take a seat and I'll make us your favorite pesto."

Walking over you sit down at the kitchen table. You sip on the rich wine, watching him move with ease around the kitchen. Cooking for you has always been apart of Joshua's love language with you.

It takes about thirty minutes before he sets down a delicious looking plate of pesto pasta.

He sits down across from you. There is about two minutes of silence before you both start making small talk.

"Do you remember when we're were home from college celebrating our anniversary and your mom almost walked in on us?" Joshua asks. You remember this night fully. You were both twenty and had been dating for four years at that point. You planned on getting a hotel for your anniversary, but weren't able to. Joshua thought it would be romantic if he snuck into your parents house in the middle of night. It turns out your were being too loud having sex and your mom was concerned you were hurt and came knocking on your luckily locked door.

"Yes. We were being so loud, my mom thought something hurt me and made me cry." If only she knew, your charming boyfriend was fucking you so good you couldn't shut up.

Through out dinner you keep talking about past memories. After another glass of wine you both work on cleaning up the kitchen. Joshua puts the last dish away as you finish your last drink of wine.

Joshua is standing there looking absolutely handsome. This dinner made you feel like everything was back to normal. It's making you realize you didn't destroy everything you built together, like you thought you did.

You've missed your husband desperately, and you never want to leave his side again.

Joshua walks closer to you. He stops right in front of you. He reaches out pushing your hair out of you face. He doesn't anything, he just stares at you for a moment.

Without thinking, you lean in crashing your lips into his. His hand grips your hip, pulling you flush against his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you deepen the kiss. The whole time you were gone, you craved this feeling. You told yourself over and over again, that you left to find yourself, but you couldn't push away the aching feeling in your chest. Every single day, you're apart you've missed your husband. Now that you're back you don't ever want to leave his side again.

Pulling back slightly, he rests his nose against yours. "Are you sure you want this?" He whispers.

"I just want to be with my husband again." His brows knit together for a moment. "Joshua, if you'll have me back, I wanna be yours."

Not another word was uttered before he crashes his lips into yours for a searing kiss. He walks you backwards until your back hits the wall with a thud.

He pulls away smiling. His smile sends a fluttering storm of butterflies into your stomach. "Baby, you've alway been mine. Even when you made me feel like an afterthought. You were always mine." He says before kissing you again.

Reaching for his belt, without thinking you start unbuckling it. He stares at you with a look of awe. You fumble, as your work on unbuckling his pants. You push his jeans down below his butt, and pull out his already hardening length. Your eyes lock on his, as your slowly pump his length.

You give him a smile, before dropping to your knees in front of him. You start off by holding, his length while you slowly took his rosy colored tip. He threads his fingers through your hair, holding it away from your face. Hallowing your cheeks you take his length into your mouth. Bobbing your head you slide your tongue against the vein that runs along the underside of his cock.

Joshua's eyes are closed, and his lips are parted. It's taking everything in him not to guide your movements. He's just letting your set your own pace. God he's missed the feeling of your mouth.

"Goldie." He lets out a breathy moan.

Looking up through your lashes, your eyes lock with his. He looks beautiful as he's on the edge of falling apart.

One hand rest on his thigh, while the other reach down to play with his balls.

"Baby, I'm close." You love how desperate he sounds.

Hallowing your cheeks you take him into your throat. He shakes his head and pulls away from you.

Sitting back on your heels you look up at him, confused.

"Baby, our first time together in months I refuse to finish the first time in your mouth." He reaches down, helping you stand up.

He leans down pressing his lips to yours for a quick kiss. "Let's move to our bedroom."

Laying on top of the same comforter you spent hours shopping dragging Joshua around on a sunny June afternoon. Pushing yourself up on your elbows you watch as Joshua starts stripping away this clothes. He's still absolutely beautiful.

It's been so long since you've been intimate. Joshua is the only man you've ever been with, and you never want another man touch you like he does.

He sits his knee on the bed and starts crawling towards you. He sits on his heels between your spread legs. Leaning down he places a kiss on your knee.

"I'm going to eat you out." He lays down on his stomach, with your needy pussy right in front of his face. He starts by kissing the top of your mound. He spreads your lips and with his fat tongue he licks your puffy clit.

"Oh—" you instantly moan.

"You taste just as sweet as I remember."

He dives into your core like a man starved. He practically makes out with your clit, switching between licking and sucking as he pumps two fingers in and out of you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close to your core. Without thinking your lift your hips pushing your pussy closer to his face.

"Shua—" You moan.

He curves his fingers up, touching that spot inside you, that leaves you seeing stars. He sucks harder on your clit. Your orgasm hits you like a lightening strike. Everything tenses and then your whole body instantly relaxs. Your walls flutter around his fingers. You're body lies limp against the soft bed.

He pulls back smiling. His lips have a shine to them from your release. His tongue slides across his top lip, collecting some of your release.

Your eyes are squeezed shut letting the high wash over you. Joshua takes this time to slowly pull back. He moves back to his position, sitting on his knees between your spread legs. He pumps his painfully hard length, looking down at you.

Your eyes open and you find him staring down at you. He presses another gentle kiss to your knee.

"Do I need to get a condom?" He hasn't worn in a condom with you since you were in college together, but it's been so long since you were intimate he doesn't know if you want him to wear one. His large hand rests on your thigh, and rubs it slowly.

A smile tugs at your lips. "I'm still on birth control, and haven't even looked at another man other than you."

"Goldie—" he pauses and looks at you with his brows knit. "Baby, I've never been with anyone other then you. The whole time you were gone I never planned on moving on. I'm faithful to you."

"I didn't wasn't accusing you of anything. I just wanted you to know I was faithful to you too." You give him a smile. "Joshua I want to feel you fully raw again."

He moves closer to you. He takes his hard length in his hand, running it through your wet folds. A soft gasp passes your lips as the rosy mushroom tip bumps against your sensitive clit. He moves so he's hovering over you, while he rest on his knees. He pushes you inch by inch as painfully slow pace. It's been so long since you've had sex with anything other than your vibrator. It's going to take a moment for you to adjust to the size of your husband. The moment he's fully inside he stills, giving you a moment to adjust. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back. He reaches up resting his hand on your cheek.

"You okay?" Your eyes flutter open, and find him staring down at you.

"Yeah, I just need a minute. It's a been a while."

"Baby it's been seven long months since I have been inside you." He gives you that smile that always makes you feel weak in the knees.

"Shua, can you move?" Your reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Without saying another word, he starts moving at a slow and deep pace. His body is practically plastered against you. One of yours hands is tangled in his hand and the others rest on his lower back. You can't get enough of him. Seven long months left you yearning for him.

His large length is filling you completey. He's so long you feel as if he's kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. The room is filled with echoing sounds of your whimpers and moans, and his deep moans. Resting his face in the crook of your neck, he leaves a wet trail of kisses, most definitely leaving marks in his wake.

"Baby you feel so good," he groans against your skin.

Spreading your legs wider for him, he's able to hit spots even deeper. Closing your eyes you focus on your rapidly approaching high. You let out a high pitched moan that sounds like his name. You're on the verge of falling apart.

"You're clenching." He groans. He knows your body inside and out. He's aware that you're on the brink of falling apart.

"You feel so good. You're so big." You're practically squirming, trying to push your hips up towards him.

"Baby you can come." He pulls his lips away from your skin.

You silently nod your head. Your whole body feels tense. The coiling in your stomach has your wound so tight, you're on the brink of exploding.

Joshua pulls away from your fully. You whine at the loss of him plastered against you. He sits on his knees between your spread legs. This position gives him. The ability to play with your clit. He picks up his pace, still going deep, but smacking his hips into yours hard. His hand rest on your mound, his thumb works on rubbing your sensitive clit. Your lips part, as a silent gasp passes.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows your watch what he's doing. It's absolutely toxicity watching as he plays with you.

"Fuck—" you whine.

"Come for me baby."

Silently you nod.

He pushes his hips into yours at quicker pace. Your orgasm feels like a tidal wave. The coil snaps in your stomach like it never had before. Your walls squeeze his massive length pushing him over the edge right behind you. He fills you to the brim with his milky white release. He's cum harder then he ever has.

He keeps thrusting into you with shallow thrust, helping you both ride out your high. Pulling out he watches as his thick cum slowly starts to leak out. Without thinking he drags two fingers through your folds helping to push his release back inside you.

"God I love you." He says.

"I love you too."

He kisses the top of your knee one last time before running off to the bathroom to get a warm cloth to clean you up.

Laying in bed with your husband feels surreal. There were many nights after you left you thought you lost him forever.

Laying in your side you stare him. He's laying on his side staring back. His hand rest on the bed between you. You're both still fully naked.

"Baby, I want my wife back."

"Why are you so willing to forgive me?" You can't push away the guilty feeling that's eating away at you.

"Because I love you, and I'm willing to understand why you left me." His words make you feel like your chest is being squeezed. "We can go slow. We can act like we're dating again, we have a guest room. One of us can sleep in there."

"Slow would be nice. Maybe we don't always sleep in separate rooms."

He smiles. "I'll do whatever you want. I just want you back."

"I'm back." You can't help but cry.

He reaches out pushing away your tears. "Don't cry, baby."

"I'm just worried. People probably hate me for hurting you."

He shakes his head. "No one can hate you. Sure some people don't understand, but no one hates you. Baby what other people think doesn't matter. All that matters is, I want you back, and I love you."

"I love you too."

Joshua moves closer. He crashes his lips into yours before pulling you into his arms. You know you messed up, but Joshua loves you, and wants to work on building your life together again. You hope one day maybe that guilty feeling will go away. But right now all that matters is that you love your husband, and he loves you.

In Australia, his car gave out in the middle of the race and he was forced to retire. In the moment, you’d thought nothing of it, just continuing your role of being his biggest support. ‘Just one bad start. It doesn’t mean that he’s out completely,’ commentators all around the world had declared. You had grounded yourself in that as well, and the next race, he managed to score a point despite the struggles he had with the car. 

When he DNF’ed again and his teammate went with him, heads started to turn. 

Not only did it put the pressure on the team to explain the possible causes, but Mingyu was reminded of his own words before the start of the season. He danced around it with curated precision, but made sure that the media were satisfied with his answer. Just like he practiced with his press officer. 

The answers he would give when he talked about you were no different. 

The media wouldn’t notice how his eyes clouded over, how he struggled to keep his shoulders straight and his smile on, as long as he kept saying the right words. Cherry-picking and feeding them to a group of people that had the power to twist them, but they never did. 

Mingyu always knew what to say, even in moments where there were no words left. 

You put the headphones down softly when the call came. The words hung in the air, suffocating all the people that were watching in the pit box with you. Your heart burned behind your ribcage. From the corner of your eye, people were shooting looks of sympathy, but you couldn’t focus on anything else than the pitlane. 

The air punched out of your lungs when Mingyu’s car was pushed inside. His white helmet with blue accents and the number 17 stuck out just above the car. He put the steering wheel on the front of the car alongside with the headrest, pulling himself up on the halo. 

The room pulsed as he took off his helmet, as if they were bracing themselves for a storm to come. Mingyu turned to you, his eyes scanning every inch of you. He walked up to you and stopped. 

You swallowed and played with your bracelet, but he pulled you into a hug. Your shoulders tensed before you relaxed in his arms, managing a weak smile. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbled in your neck. “It’s whatever.” 

You hummed and rubbed his back in small circle motions, but Mingyu broke free. He shot you a last look before walking away. As per usual, you left the pit box to go with him. You trailed next to him, taking two steps for every one he took. You laced your fingers together and he accepted your affection. He broke away when he took interviews, joining forces with his press officer. 

You watched from the sidelines as he gave the performance that he was trained for, as if this was just a small setback in his path to becoming world champion. 

Mingyu’s energy was contagious, and he never left the room without any. He was charming, accessible and easy to love. Compared to how he behaved when he was in the paddock, there wasn’t a difference between your boyfriend and the man that drove one of the fastest cars in the world. 

You still felt your heart skipping a beat, admiring how easily he could pull himself together and find the words without even hinting that he was frustrated with his performance, that he beat himself up for not pulling the weight and showing the results that he promised everyone. 

He was a breath of fresh air. 

You joined him again and walked to the pit box. His press officer waited outside his motorhome while you followed Mingyu inside. His hand rested on the small of your back when you stepped in. You pushed it away when the door closed behind you and walked to the couch. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” Mingyu announced, but you didn’t respond. He scoffed and slammed the door shut. 

You wondered if anyone had ever pinched through your act, even though there was nothing to prove that you weren’t on good terms. You always showed up together, holding hands, chatting and there was never a moment where your words – if someone ever approached you – were weighed carefully. Mingyu treated you like the world was your palace. That was the happy couple they’d been seeing for three years, ever since your relationship became public. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you were happy with Mingyu.  

The running water made you close your eyes, as if it was only you that existed. You liked it like that, when there was nobody around you for a couple of seconds. Since your relationship became public, you’d been in the spotlight. You chose to keep your life private regardless and Mingyu had always respected that.

Out of protection towards you, Mingyu’s current performance and the crumbs of your relationship that were left, all the energy you had went into pretending that everything was fine. Existing out of everyone’s eyes became your safe haven in moments where nothing could come to your aid. 

You peeked an eye open when the door opened and lifted your head. 

Mingyu hoisted himself into a fresh team shirt, a pair of jeans desperately clinging to his hips. He crinkled his nose and pulled his jeans up, tucking his shirt in. “Are you coming back to the pit box to watch the rest of the race?” 

“Do I have a choice?” You bit back. 

“I’m not in the race anymore, so yes, actually,” he answered calmly and finally looked up. His eyes were like a silent plea every time he looked at you. “Let me rephrase it. Will you be there for emotional support?”

You got off the couch with a scoff and followed him outside. You latched onto his bicep and leaned into him, your fingertips prickling as your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt. 

He pulled you in closer and leaned in. “Don’t forget you love me.” 

You smiled at him sweetly. “You’re very sure that I do.” 

Mingyu looked ahead of him, his arm tense. When you got back into the pit box, he pressed a kiss to your lips before you parted ways. He walked to the pitwall, where he joined the strategists and team principal, and you stood behind the barrier with your headphones. 

The rest of the race was a blur. You stared holes into Mingyu’s back, trying to guess what was going through his head. Secretly, you hoped that he was thinking about you, but those days had long passed. Whenever he thought of you, you knew that it bore resentment. He couldn’t look at you with anything else. Everything in front of the cameras was pretense. 

You went back to his motorhome as Mingyu joined his team in celebrating the podium. You didn’t care how long it would take him. Hell, you didn’t care if he wouldn’t return at all. Everywhere Mingyu went, cameras followed and you did enough pretending for one day. 

As you curled up on the couch, the door opened. The anger ached in your chest immediately, and you clutched your phone in your hand. You stared out of the window as a weight settled down next to you. 

The scent of cedar and citrus coated you in a thick blanket of comfort, no matter how much you didn’t want it to. Fighting only made it easier to lose yourself in it, so you let it. For a while you sat in silence, as if you were both stubbornly waiting for the other to speak. The pressure on your chest made you suffocate. 

“I’m going back to the hotel,” Mingyu finally said. 

You looked at him blankly. 

“You can choose to come with me, or you can stay behind and someone will come pick you up later.” 

“But?” You countered. 

Mingyu shot you a weak smile. “You know what I’m going to say.” 

You looked out of the window again and crossed your arms. 

He called your name softly. His hand slid to your thigh, burning up against your skin. When you pushed it away, he swallowed and shot you a small smile. “I get that this is not ideal–”

“Not ideal?” You interrupted, chuckling bitterly. “God, Mingyu, you have a lot of nerve to phrase it like that.” 

“Baby–”

“Not ideal is when you accidentally double booked yourself. This,” you pointed your finger between him and you, “all of the pretending and the cameras, this is exhausting and demoralising and I’m losing hope that it will ever be fixed.” 

Mingyu’s eyes widened, glimmering. He looked away and lowered his head. “I see,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.” 

You got off the couch and grabbed your purse. “We’re going back to the hotel. I can’t do this, not here.” 

But back at the hotel, you didn’t circle back to it. You were too tired to argue about it again, knowing that it wouldn’t fix anything. All Mingyu would tell you was that you had to hold out. It was only temporary and would blow over before you knew, but it’d been going on for months. Nothing was addressed and if anything, it was only getting worse. 

Although, you doubted that talking about it would fix anything at that point. 

You skipped dinner with Mingyu and ordered room service, munching on a fry as you stared into nothingness. The afternoon replayed in your head, nothing special since your little play, but it hadn’t cut a wound like usual, where you were left bleeding for days until you could look Mingyu in the eyes normally. 

As your eyes flicked to your plate, your phone rang. Mingyu’s caller ID usually made your heart skip a beat, but all you could do was stare at it blankly. Hearing his voice would flush your chest with warmth, and you would think to yourself how lucky you were with a man like him by your side. 

After enduring the past two months, you were hollowed out. 

You put the empty plate aside and threw the suitcase on your bed. You snatched the clothes off the chair and folded them. From the bathroom, you grabbed your toiletries and put them back in the bag. Your summer dress was replaced by a shirt and sweatpants and you did your hair the way you usually would. 

And before you knew it, you were on the plane back home. 

[insert divider here]

You cried yourself to sleep one night, but slept like an angel the next. Some days, Mingyu was on your mind and you couldn’t focus on anything and others he was merely an afterthought. On those weekends, you watched the races from the comfort of your own home. 

Sometimes you couldn’t even stomach the thought without bursting into tears. 

Mingyu had tried talking to you on multiple occasions, but you told him you needed space. You couldn’t be around him, not like this, and your absence was noticed. 

Like always, his words had landed with curated precision. He laughed, telling the camera that you were in a busy period with work. ‘The money doesn’t come from nowhere’, he’d teased. 

Your eyes stung with tears as you cursed underneath your breath. You turned the TV off and plopped on the couch, staring into the nothingness. 

Every time you saw him, flashing his canines at the camera mischievously, you were reminded of the times you were the one at the receiving end. Mingyu was one of the few people who could genuinely make you laugh. You hated your loud cackles, but Mingyu did everything in his power to pull them out of you. 

That was his victory smile, as he came to call it. 

You buried your head in your hands and sobbed all of the tears you’d been suppressing until you were a shell. Until there was nothing left for you to give anymore. 

When you started dating Mingyu, you knew what you were getting yourself into. You didn’t care because you loved him. He valued your need for privacy and admired your courage to make it public anyway. You never had a knack for hiding; all you wanted was to show the world that you cared about him, that you supported him every step of the way. 

Sometimes you wished that someone would actually catch you in the act. At least you could drop it that way. 

A knock on the door interrupted the spiral. You dragged yourself towards the door and wiped your cheeks dry before opening the door. 

Jeonghan took one look at you before he shot you a small smile. “I had a feeling I would see you like this.”

The tears flowed as if the past twenty minutes hadn’t even happened. You crashed into your best friend’s arms, burying your head in his chest. 

He silently embraced you and rested his head on top of yours. “Your mother told me you were hiding out in your apartment,” he muttered. “I had to check on you.”

Deep down, you were glad she did. 

Jeonghan sat you back down on the couch and walked to your kitchen. He came back with two cups of tea and took a seat next to you.

“I reached the final straw a couple of weeks ago,” you croaked. “Mingyu had another DNF and for some reason, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I just…” You paused and lowered your head. “I don’t know what happened.”

He observed you in silence, his hands wrapped around the cup. “What’s on your mind?” 

Your eyes darted to him. 

Jeonghan shot you a small smile in response. 

“I guess I feel a little selfish for leaving so suddenly, and maybe I’m also wondering why I didn’t just back off entirely instead.” You rubbed your face with a sigh and threw yourself back in the cushions. Staring at the ceiling, the tears stung behind your eyes. “I could’ve spared myself the trouble, stayed home and taken my time and distance. Instead I was the one suggesting to go down this route.”

You glanced at your best friend. “Please don’t tell me I should stop beating myself up.”

He chuckled. “As if I would.” 

You managed a small smile yourself and looked back up at the ceiling. 

“I think it’s admirable that you wanted to try.” 

Your head shot his way. 

Jeonghan shrugged weakly. “You don’t know if it’s going to work, and I can empathise with the fact you held hope that it would, but have you ever talked about it?” 

“Plenty of times,” you answered. “It just always ended in a fight and led to nowhere. We would both feel misunderstood by the other. It was the same conversation where we still hoped for a different outcome, but it never came.” 

You shrugged. “I think we were way past the point of talking.”

He shuffled closer to you and put his cup down. “Would you like me to give some advice, or would you just like some company? I can tell that this conversation has been replaying in your head since you left.”

You looked at him and reached out, your fingers gently brushing his arm. “Just having you here is enough for now. Maybe when I’m in a better mood, I want some advice.” 

Jeonghan slapped his thighs and got up. “Alright, then we’re ordering sushi and I’ll get us my best bottle of wine. It’s been too long since we had a proper night with just the two of us.” 

You watched how he marched out of your apartment with a smile on your face, ignoring how your phone lit up. Jeonghan was right; it had been too long since you had a night together. 

You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and turned it off. Mingyu would hear from you another time. 

Jeonghan had left the subject alone as well, instead updating you on his personal life and the stunts his coworkers were pulling. You tried digging into his romantic endeavours, but he danced around the subject so smoothly, you knew that he was hiding something. Not wanting to pry, you left it alone. 

Although, with enough alcohol in his system he would probably confess. You would let the trajectory of the night decide. 

You were digesting the sushi, slouched on the couch while Jeonghan was browsing through your watchlist on Netflix. He commented on every sappy movie, pausing when he saw shows you’d watched a thousand times before, until he eventually gave up. 

“You watch boring stuff,” he declared and threw the remote on the couch. 

“Half of the suggestions aren’t even because of me,” you countered. “Mingyu wants to watch those sappy movies ninety percent of the time. I don’t even know why.”

“Probably because when you cry, he can comfort you.”

You snorted. “It’s rather the other way around. I always end up wiping his tears away.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Is he such a crybaby?”

“When he’s watching the Notebook, yes.”

He bobbed his head and clicked his tongue. “Well, you learn something new every day.”

You hummed and stared at the black screen.

“Do you miss him?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered and sniffled. “I miss him so much.”

Jeonghan placed your head on his shoulder and rubbed your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not completely beyond the point of talking,” he said softly. “You just need to be honest with him, and with yourself.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “Having such a high-demanding job is hard, especially when the public eye is involved and I’m afraid.” Your voice trembled. “I’m so afraid of losing him right now when the whole world is watching…”

“Which is why I admire your choice to keep showing up anyway. I hope Mingyu hasn’t forgotten what that means.”

There was a knock on your door and by the time Jeonghan opened it, you were too exhausted to fight the tears. 

[insert divider here]

No race win could make up for what you had left behind the day you flew back home. 

The looks Mingyu received every time he walked into the paddock had become more concerning every time, and he wondered if the press started putting two and two together throughout all his chirpy and charming demeanour. It hadn’t reflected in his performance the first two races, but when he crashed the car the next thinking about your fight, heads started to turn. 

At night, all he thought about was you. The day you left replayed in his head and he kept searching for every single detail that could’ve helped him prevent you from going. He knew that it wasn’t just that day, or that it was just a small fight. 

You had all the reason to leave. In fact, he’d braced himself for the day you would go, but it didn’t lessen the blow. He cried himself to sleep and the moment he landed into the new race week, he locked himself in his hotel. He only came out when he needed to and through all of it, he was expected to smile, to tell everyone how well he was going to do that weekend. 

He was going to have to talk about you. 

Press had made teasing remarks about your absence, slicing his heart in such an ignorant way that it made his skin prickle. He remembered laughing, telling them that the money didn’t come from nowhere and he moved on from the conversation just like that.

Mingyu met up with his strategists to discuss the race. The expected rain could be his saving grace if he knew how to utilise it, but expected was all it was. If it was just a normal race, he had to revert to medium and hard tyres to hold out. The softs under his car wouldn’t last even a lap, not on this track. 

His teammate, Jun, was prioritised when it came to maximising the amount of points they could get that weekend. The prediction – for the first time since the finale of the previous season – was a double podium. For Jun, that meant a race win. 

Mingyu’s job was to make sure to stay close behind his favoured teammate, holding up opponents so the gap between them became impossible to close. There hadn’t been a race win in the cards for him, and the championship that he promised to deliver started slipping out of his hands as well. 

Jun had sat with him during lunch, but stayed uncharacteristically silent. 

In between bites, it got on Mingyu’s nerves. “You can just speak your mind, you know,” he said tightly. “I’m well aware that I haven’t been delivering on my promises so just say what you want to say. No hard feelings from my side.” 

“I was going to ask if you were okay.” 

The force he felt in his gut was more than deserved. 

Mingyu managed a soft ‘Oh’. 

“I know this world is hard and we’re being measured by everything we do and say, but I hope you feel comfortable enough around me to share what’s been going on.” Jun offered him a smile. “We may be rivals on track, but I consider you a friend.” 

He inhaled softly. “I’ll manage, but thank you anyway.” 

Jun nodded and turned back to his food. “You’ll get there, I’m sure of it. One down period shouldn’t define the rest of your trajectory.” 

Mingyu still debated whether he meant his career or his personal life, the words echoing in the back of his mind throughout the day. 

The weekend flew by and he even managed to cling onto third place, but he didn’t stay to celebrate the double podium. In the hotel room, it all came crashing down on him again and somewhere between hours of crying and trying to call you, he’d fallen asleep.  

Jun had texted him, but he ignored it and packed his suitcase. 

Mingyu was happy he could go home. He missed the comfort of his own bed, of waking up in a pitch black room instead of flowy curtains dancing in the wind, forcing him awake at the slightest bit of light.

He pushed his suitcase aside and plopped on the couch, staring into the nothingness that was his home. The silence had a way of sending shivers down his spine while comforting him all the same. He wanted to cry, even though there was nothing left to give, and he wanted to throw everything in his sight and scream. 

When you were around, at least the place felt a bit like home. Having moved from South Korea to the other side of the world, he’d always been out of place. Nothing seemed to settle him down, until you came along. 

You made everything easy, bearable even. You showed him the balance between settling in his new hometown and honoring where he came from. When he talked about his career, you’d asked him questions that no one had ever thought of before, as if you desired to dig a layer deeper. 

And you succeeded. Since the day you went out for Korean barbecue together, you’d stayed around. 

Mingyu had never loved someone like you, let alone someone in the way he loved you. You were his voice of reason, his moment of chaos when he needed it. You were stability, spontaneity and structure all combined into one, an endless balance that you were keeping like it was breathing. You settled into his hectic and fast-paced lifestyle much easier than he expected you to. 

He started loving you even deeper. 

Coming home became something he looked forward to. His apartment was bright and lively, no matter if you were there to greet him or not. He could faintly trace your jasmine and coconut perfume, the warmth starting in his stomach before spreading through his whole body. 

All he smelled now was lavender. The cleaning service had been in not too long ago, but his apartment was hollow. It rather felt like he was sitting in the home of someone else. 

Mingyu’s entire world had fallen apart.

He checked his phone. Maybe you’d called him back, even if it was to tell him off. Your phone went straight to voicemail and where he usually hung up, he stuck around. 

He just needed to hear your voice. 

“Hi, baby,” he said softly. “I just… I want to talk to you. About all of this. I know that you want space, but it’s killing me to sit here without knowing what’s going to happen.” 

The tears stung behind his eyes, the pressure in his chest unbearable. “All I want to know is if this is the end or not, okay? I don’t want to get my hopes up for nothing.” 

He sniffled and whispered a soft goodbye before he threw the phone down next to him. 

When his coach came over to prepare his meals with him, he just stared into the abyss. Whether he willfully ignored it or he genuinely didn’t notice, Mingyu couldn’t bring himself to care. All he wanted was you to call him back so he could start letting you go.

Because if you wanted it to be over, he had no choice but to accept it. 

After one bite, Mingyu curled himself up on the couch. He closed his eyes, but all he saw was you. Screaming at him, embracing him, crying, running your hands through his hair, kissing him, screaming again. 

Nothing he did relieved him of his fear becoming reality. 

He glanced at his phone, but you hadn’t called him back. Mingyu was going to have to take matters into his own hands and it would either be the best decision he would ever make, or you would hate him forever. 

He slid into his shoes, grabbed his phone and keys and got into his car. It was a small drive to the town over, but every second passing felt like you were slipping away from him further. His knuckles were white by the time he reached your block, his heart about to race itself to death. 

It was all or nothing. 

Mingyu got out of the car and walked up to the stairs. He looked up and started walking, all three sets until he reached your level. Right at the end of the gallery was your apartment, the crate with empty beer bottles stacked next to your front door. 

With every step he took, his legs became heavier. 

What was he doing? You clearly told him you needed space and he breached that trust by barging into your block unannounced. You would never forgive him for it, now that he was willing to cross every boundary you were going to set with him in the future. 

But it’d been over a month since you left the hotel without a word. He wanted to know how you felt, and at some point the line between protecting your peace and avoiding the confrontation started to blur. Mingyu was going to have to barge through it himself.

He knocked on the door and stepped back, rubbing his fingers together. When the door opened, he tilted his head. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan greeted him and looked back. 

Mingyu looked past your best friend at you. He swallowed when your eyes glimmered. “Sorry for coming over so suddenly, but I couldn’t take it anymore.” 

You nodded and wiped your cheeks. “Come in.” 

He stepped in and nodded at Jeonghan. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

Mingyu lingered near the door and cleared his throat. “I–”

You embraced him tightly. 

He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face in your hair.

“We can talk in a second,” you sniffled. “I need a hug first.”

Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut, but a tear rolled down his cheek. “Me too, baby,” he whispered. He held you close, taking you in like it was the last time he would ever see you again. 

He’d convinced himself it was until you ran into his arms.

Jeonghan smiled at you when you pulled back. “Call me if you need me, yeah?”

You nodded and wiped your tears away. 

He looked at Mingyu and nodded, to which he returned the favour. 

Mingyu turned to you and wiped your cheek with his thumb. “The situation’s been shitty, for both of us but mostly for you.”

“I wished it would’ve worked out how we hoped it would.” You smiled through your tears. “I didn’t want to stand in the way of your career.” 

He grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them. “I know that I’m not always the best at juggling my personal life and my work, but you are never in the way.” 

“If this would be the outcome, I never would’ve done it,” you said with a sniffle. “It was the easy way out instead of addressing the elephant in the room.” 

Mingyu lowered his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” 

You led him to the couch leaned forward. “How are you truly doing, Mingyu?” 

“I was on such a high after last season,” he started and smiled. “I came in third in the championship, and there was such hope that this year could be even better. I won a ton of races after all.”

You listened intently, your eyes scanning every detail of his face and your brows pushed together. 

“When I walked into the factory to see the car and to test it, my hopes were completely gone and the season hadn’t even started yet.” Mingyu sighed deeply. “And how could I tell anyway? It was only February, a month and a half before the first face.” 

“Were you scared to admit it?” 

He nodded. “I started acting out because I was terrified that I would fail, and look where that has brought me. I fulfilled my own destiny.”

You nodded and leaned on your thighs. “And what could I have done differently to give you the space to be open about that?” 

Mingyu opened his mouth, but he closed it again. “Baby, this is not your responsibility. I should’ve been honest.” 

“But you weren’t, so I’ll ask again.” You looked right at him. “What could I have done differently so you would’ve felt comfortable?”

He lowered his eyes. 

“Mingyu,” you grabbed his hand, “you need to be honest with me if we want to work through this.”

“You have a tendency to want to solve everything,” he heard himself say. At your lack of reaction, he looked up. 

Your head was tilted, your eyes narrowed. After a silence, you clicked your tongue. 

“I mean, you kind of proved me right already.”

Mingyu managed a small smile. “I admire your ability to think about solutions, but what I need sometimes is an ear, not a brain. And maybe, when you suggested that we would pretend nothing was happening, that was not what was best for us even though it was the logical solution so the press wouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

You nodded. “I agree with you.”

He shuffled closer and rubbed your thigh. “You need to allow yourself to take a breather more. What you did, taking your distance – even though it was suddenly – was a good thing.” 

“It didn’t feel that way,” you muttered with a sigh. “I hated to leave you hanging like that, and I guess in hindsight that I was also kind of running from it. In case you hated me or something.” 

“You and me both.” Mingyu caressed your cheek with a smile. “We should stop pretending, but I hope the act can be dropped completely. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your head in the crook of his neck. “You’ll talk, and I’ll listen, or am I too early to propose a solution?” 

Mingyu laughed and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Sounds like a perfect idea.”

You fell asleep in his arms that night and Mingyu’s world was slowly built back up. His career might’ve not been what it needed to be, but he had you and that was all that mattered. 

[insert divider here]

The press described it as the most anticipated return of the season, you would tell them that it had been coming all along. 

Mingyu’s first win of the season came right before the summer break, when an unexpected crash between the front row gave way to the lead. Jun was right behind him, grinding the rest of the field to a halt so they could secure their 1-2 podium finish. 

An entirely different person came out of the summer break, with you by his side. You fell in love with Mingyu all over again. 

You’d joined for the last race of the season, tucked away in the paddock as you watched the screen. Mingyu was in second place and if he stayed there, he could round up the top three for the season. Jun had already been declared world champion, but he was leading the race anyway. 

With the cord entangled in your hand, your fingers were crossed as Mingyu was told to come in for a last pitstop. He had a gap big enough to keep the position, but the pitstop had to go right. 

As the car pulled up in the lane, the pit box pulsed. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched the mechanics in their rehearsed rhythm, as if it was their second nature. All four tyres at once, switching from hard to mediums. 

Within the blink of an eye, Mingyu took off. 

You watched the screen, just when Mingyu entered the race track. His opponent was nowhere in sight. 

As the pit box cheered, you released a soft breath of relief. All Mingyu had to do was hold out and he would come in third again. 

When the last lap rang in, the team was already guiding you through the crowd. They put you right at the front of the barrier, next to his strategist. You were nearly pushed against the barrier, the team buzzing with excitement as their drivers were nearing the finish line. Some of the mechanics were climbing in the fences to cheer at them, even though that wasn’t allowed anymore. 

The team did not seem to care. 

The car with number 17 disappeared on the horizon and your heart skipped a beat. It stopped in front of the big banner with second place on it and Mingyu didn’t know how fast he had to get out. 

The warmth spread through your chest when he stood on the hood of his car, pumping his fists in the air while the crowd roared. He jumped off and rushed into the arms of his mechanics, who nearly dragged him over the barrier. 

“Crazy, those guys,” his strategist said to you, to which you chuckled. 

Mingyu took his helmet off and turned your way, his lips twisting into a smile. He pressed your foreheads together, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

“I think a night out is in order,” you whispered with a smile. 

“We’ll think about that later.” He pressed your lips together in a kiss so eagerly that your knees buckled. You held onto his suit for stability and smiled against his lips. 

Mingyu caressed your cheek and smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you, baby. Thank you for everything.” 

“Everything for you.” You turned him around gently. “Now, go celebrate that podium and suck in all the love and praise. I’ll be downstairs waiting for you.”  

He walked away and looked over his shoulder. 

“Don’t forget you love me, though.” 

He smiled and disappeared inside. The rest of the day became a blur as the alcohol passed around the team, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was that you and Mingyu were happy again. 

And next season, he would be a world champion. 

Tucked away underneath an umbrella, you stared at the sign on the shop window. Minghao was always the one decorating your place with flowers, always knowing exactly what would fit the season, the scenery, even your mood. 

Now you had to do it yourself because your flowers were dying in your windowsill. Minghao wouldn’t be around to save them anytime soon. You never had much with flowers, but he loved it so you let him go crazy. 

And honestly? Everything he put in there was gorgeous. 

The thought tightened your chest. You nearly turned around and went home crying, but you pushed through the doors anyway. 

You closed your umbrella and left it in the holder with the others. The smell of fresh flowers was all around you, and you recognised the daisies that were on your right. Observing them closely, tears welled in your eyes. 

A stupid argument had completely escalated. An argument that you had a thousand times before, that led to nowhere, had made everything worse. When you thought about the way you started screaming at each other, the air punched out of your lungs. You’d never seen Minghao angry before – irritated at best – but you had ticked him off so badly that the vein in his neck visibly pulsed. The entire apartment complex could hear him, even though he switched to Chinese every few sentences. 

Since that night, you hadn’t seen or spoken to him anymore. That was now two weeks ago and you were in a flower shop, looking as lost as you were. You were still not sure whether you were truly there to replace your dying flowers or if you didn’t know where else to go. 

Strolling past the displays, you stopped in front of a bouquet of roses. 

Minghao had often talked about them. Especially the pink and white flowers had always appealed to him and you’d never been able to pinpoint why. Just like many of his preferences, the mystery had left you wanting to know more. When you asked, you expected a very specific answer, something direct and tangible. 

More often than not, he told you that some things didn’t need an explanation. It was a feeling you had and it left you with more questions than answers. You wanted things figured out, while Minghao was someone who could wait and see how things would go. ‘Go with the flow’, as he would’ve told you. 

His flow didn’t exactly bring him back to you yet. 

You headed into the back of the shop. Lavender, something you absolutely hated no matter how many times Minghao tried to introduce it to you. The smell was overbearing and overwhelming. 

You turned back around, bumping right into a guy, guessing him to be around your age. Muttering a quick apology, you stepped out of the way, but he chuckled. 

“I was actually here to help you,” he said and crossed his arms behind his back. “First time here?” 

“Do I look that obviously out of place?” 

He flashed a smile. 

You clicked your tongue. “Alright. Loud and clear.” 

The guy chuckled and started walking. “The actual reason is that I haven’t seen you around here. I would recognise you if you were a regular.” 

“Ah.” You trailed after him. “My… um, my boyfriend comes here often. If anyone’s the regular, it’s him.” 

He looked back at you and narrowed his eyes, scanning you up and down. “Your boyfriend…” 

“I think.”

Mentally you were already strangling yourself for letting it slip out, but he ignored it to your surprise. You breathed out softly and stopped when he did. 

“Is he broad and muscular?”

You couldn’t help but snort before composing yourself. You shook your head. “Sorry. No, he’s not.”

“Guessing by that reaction, he’s the opposite.”

“I wouldn’t describe him as ‘broad’, no.”

An amused smile decorated the man’s face. “Longer blond hair?”

Your stomach tingled. “As of recently, yes.” 

“Oh, Minghao,” he cooed and clasped his hands together. “He would be laughing in my face if I told him that you were here.” 

You tilted your head with a frown. 

The man took you to the front of the shop, where you were admiring the daisies earlier. He grabbed a couple of white ones out of the bucket and turned around. “Minghao always comes here to pick out flowers for your house then, I assume, and he talks about you on many occasions.” 

He walked to a couple of other buckets and picked some pink flowers. “I vividly remember him telling me that you would never be found here. Look at you now!” 

You blinked a couple of times. It was the first time you ever saw him, but he was spewing information like he knew you better than you knew yourself, talking like he was catching up with an old friend. 

With a weak nod, you looked at the flowers in his hand. “Minghao was completely right in saying that.” 

“What brings you here?” 

You looked at him, opening your mouth to say something before closing it. Shrugging, you shot him a small smile. “I don’t know, to be honest. It just felt right coming here.” 

He returned the smile warmly before handing you the bouquet. “You made the right choice, then.” 

The bouquet had been sitting in a vase in your kitchen for days. You’d been pondering over what to say to Minghao and how you were going to approach him in the first place. It was almost three weeks ago since your last contact and you were reaching your final straw. 

When you called him, you got voicemail. Expecting him to call back, you left him be until a call would never come. Slowly, the empty feeling in your chest started filling up with a burning sensation, until you had enough. 

You stood in front of his door with a hammering heart. The lock clicked and he peeked his head around the corner. 

Minghao seemed surprised to see you as he opened the door. “Hey, what are you doing here?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged, pretending to think, “maybe trying to get back in touch with you so we can get this over with.” 

He leaned against the door. “Okay, what do you have to say?” 

“Why don’t you pick up when I try to call you?” 

“Because I have a right to decline.” 

Your eyes clouded over, piercing right through him. 

Minghao shrugged, your name rolling off his lips so calmly, you got shivers. “You’re not even sure what you’re going to say.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your eyebrow. “I am.” 

He repeated your gesture and straightened his posture. You hated that through all the anger, he still managed to make your heart skip a beat. His eyes still held a softness for you, and you know he was more than open to hear you out. 

You were the one visiting him, after all. 

“Well,” you started and cleared your throat, “I think it’s unfair of you to assume that I don’t know what to say.” 

“Can you prove me wrong, though?” Minghao asked. “Whenever we’re arguing, you say the same thing in five different ways. And frankly, we never get it solved.” 

Before you had a defence at the ready, he cut you off. 

“I’m not going to do it, not like this.” Minghao offered you a small smile. “Figure out what you want first.” 

“Minghao–”

He shut the door. 

You stared at it, head spinning. You were angry, upset, hurt, disappointed and unable to ride out one. You wanted to pounce at the door and scream at him, but you wanted to cry in his arms all the same. 

Instead you ended up back home. 

The bouquet had withered by the time you decided to do something else than go to work, the rose petals that were still clinging on a faint brown. The rest of them were on the kitchen table drying up. 

You shoved your hands into your pockets and walked the block, taking a left and walking straight into the city. You didn’t have a destination in mind, you just needed to catch some fresh air. 

After a good month since your fight with Minghao, the flow hadn’t brought him back to you still. On the contrary, even. You had a feeling he drifted away from you if you didn’t do something soon. 

In all your anger and confusion, you’d stood on his doorstep the night before. Once again, Minghao had opened the door and you even made it into his apartment. The conversation seemed to go well and you were making progress.

Until it was your turn to talk. The conversation had escalated once again and you left with the anger burning your chest to ashes. Everything that he’d said had fallen on deaf ears and you started to realise that the problem wasn’t with Minghao. 

You pushed through the doors. The daisies on your right side were the first thing you smelled, a warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Since your last visit, not much had changed in their display. Some colours had been replaced or switched around to make it more appealing, but that was the biggest change you could find. 

Bowing over the daisies, you inhaled. 

“Look at that.” 

You shot up and looked right in those mischievous eyes. 

“Are you becoming a regular?” The same guy asked, arms crossed behind his back. His lips twisted into a grin. “Welcome back. I guess that you’re still a little clueless?” 

“Yep.” You looked around before your eyes landed on him. “The last bouquet kind of died and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.”

“I expected nothing less.” He beckoned you and started walking. “You’re around more than Minghao and that says a lot. Is something going on?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms over your body. “We’re kind of on a rough patch right now.” 

He hummed and stopped by the counter, leaning on it as he watched his coworker helping someone else. “I think it’s very ironic that you find yourself here of all places.” 

You looked at him with a tilted head. 

“You’re not someone that cares much for flowers,” the guy started. “You’re okay with Minghao decorating your house with it because he loves it, but that’s all. And now you’re in a rough patch and where are you right now? A place that he loves more than you do.” 

You hummed and looked away. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re not here without a reason, you just need to know how to return the gesture to him.” 

“Have you ever considered becoming a public speaker?” 

The guy laughed. “Next to being a florist, I also offer free therapy sessions. Part of the job.” His chuckles eased into a smile. “You have no idea the things I’ve seen since working here. Flowers play a bigger role in people’s lives than you might assume.” 

“I get why you and Minghao get along so well,” you remarked. “It’s like hearing him speak as we’re talking right now.”

“Like attracts like.” He winked and patted the counter. “I need to look over deliveries. Take a look around and call for me if you need me.” 

You nodded and watched how he slid behind the counter and disappeared in the back. Walking back to the daisies, you kneeled down. They had all kinds of colours, blending into each other so seamlessly it made you smile. 

The purple ones had been in your house before. You remembered getting a promotion at work, and telling Minghao was the most exciting part of the day. That same night, you had a small bouquet, which included the purple daisies. 

You’d always assumed they were purple because it was your favourite colour, but it was the only time you’d seen them. Faded to the back of your mind, passing it off as something insignificant. 

As if it had never mattered at all.

With a soft sigh, you came back up. You dusted your pants off and straightened your jacket. As you turned around, you bumped into someone. 

“Did I look lost again?” You remarked with a chuckle. When you looked up, Minghao was staring right back at you. 

You froze. 

His eyes scanned you carefully, and you couldn’t help but drown in them. 

“You do look kind of lost,” he finally said. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw you here.” 

You shrugged weakly and crossed your arms over your body. 

Minghao nodded at the buckets. “What were you looking at?” 

Your eyes darted to the purple daisies. 

“Ah,” he hummed and bowed down, picking one from the bucket. He observed it before giving it to you. 

You took it carefully and held it to your chest. 

“I know purple is your favourite colour.” He nodded his head at the flower. “That’s not what that daisy is about.” 

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Minghao placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you further into the shop. The touch was electric, lighting a flame that you thought had long died out. “Purple daisies resemble success, and admiration. When I put them in your living room, I was celebrating your promotion.” 

He picked a pink flower. “Pink lilies bear the same meaning, and they were also in that same bouquet. Admiration and gratitude.” 

You took the lily from him. “What flowers say ‘I’m sorry for everything, please forgive me?’” 

Minghao stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder. 

You took a small step towards him. “I really am sorry, Hao. I don’t want you to feel undervalued, or misunderstood, and I hate myself for not realising earlier that that’s what this is all about.” 

He turned around in full. 

“You know,” you looked up at him with a small smile, “if I would’ve engaged earlier, be more open-minded like you’d tell me,” you nudged Minghao, making him chuckle. “I would’ve realised much sooner that it’s one of the most touching gestures someone has ever made for me. So that’s what I’ll try to do from now on.”

He smiled at you. 

You caressed his cheek. “And hearing you spew these facts out like it’s breathing, it warms my heart, and it actually makes me excited to hear more.”

“I’m sorry too, my love,” Minghao muttered and leaned into your touch. “I’m very quick to jump to conclusions sometimes and it’s unfair to you especially since you need a little longer to gather your thoughts. I should’ve given you proper time and space to do so, instead of pushing the blame all on you.” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. “We’ll work on this just fine, my love. I’m very sure of it.” 

Minghao pressed a long kiss into your hair. “I love you so much, darling. So so much.”

You looked up at him and smiled. “I love you, too.” 

He kissed you so eagerly that the heat pooled in your stomach. His hands gripped your waist, nails dipping into your sides like you would disappear again. When you pulled him in closer, he chuckled against your lips. 

You pouted when he pulled back. 

“I came here to pick up my order,” he muttered. “I need to get back to work.” 

“See you tonight?” You offered, to which he smiled. 

“You have a key.” 

You pressed one last kiss to his lips and watched him walking to the counter. He was talking to the same guy that had taken you under his wing. 

As Minghao slipped past, he squeezed your waist. “Seungkwan wants to talk to you,” he whispered and kissed your temple. He rushed out of the door and disappeared around the corner. 

You looked over at Seungkwan, who waved at you. With a chuckle, you walked over to him. “What could you possibly need me for?” 

“Let’s make you a bouquet for Minghao,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell you all I need to know.” 

When you walked out of the shop with the bouquet, you were light as a feather. Your stomach tingled whenever you thought of how Minghao’s eyes would light up, how he would kiss you passionately that you melted in his arms. Since your fight, you hadn’t felt so excited to see him again. 

You knew that he wouldn’t get off work for another hour and set out to his house. The bouquet rested in your hand as you twisted the lock, slipping in before any of his neighbours would see you. 

As you looked around, there wasn’t a flower in sight. 

The empty vases were lined up on the counter on a towel. They looked dried up and you had no trouble believing they’d been there for a couple of days. Purposeless.

You grabbed the vase that Minghao painted himself, tracing the dried streaks with a smile. You filled it with water and put it in, setting the vase on the saloon table in the living room. ‘A center piece’, Minghao had often told you. You hoped that this would meet his requirements. 

Minghao had texted you about dinner, opting that he would get something on his way home. You agreed with a smile. 

When you heard the lock clicking not much later, your heart jumped. 

You rubbed your hands together and balanced from the front to the heel of your feet. 

Minghao pushed the door back into its lock with his hip, the crackling of a plastic bag following him around. When he walked into the living room, he yelped. 

Covering your mouth, you suppressed a giggle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“What are you already doing here?” His eyes darted to the bouquet on the table and his lips twisted into a smile. “That wasn’t there before.” 

“Happened to come with me,” you watched him set the bag down and observe it. “Seungkwan helped me. It’s not how the professionals do it, but–” 

“It’s perfect.” Minghao looked back at you and opened his arms. “Come here, you.” 

You walked right into his arms, inhaling his citrus, amber scent. You closed your eyes with a hum. “I missed you a lot, Hao.” 

“I you too, my love.” He ran a hand through your hair before pressing a kiss to it. “Let’s eat before dinner gets cold.” 

You peeked inside the bag curiously and smiled brightly. You grabbed the servings and sat down on the ground. “You know, why Seungkwan works in a flower shop is beyond me,” you said and opened the container. 

Minghao chuckled. “He’s a talker, hm?” 

“He is.” You put the other one in front of your boyfriend and grabbed a spoon and a pair of chopsticks. “A good one at that, though. Very convincing.” 

“He’s helped me since the first time I set foot in that place,” he started and stirred his soup. “I just moved to the city and I wanted a good bouquet for my living room.”

“The center piece,” you said in unison. 

Minghao looked at you with a smile before he continued. “He knows everything there is to know and I really formed some kind of friendship with him.” 

“He’s a nice guy.” The broth you sipped from was an explosion of flavours, making you groan. “God, I missed this.” 

“I thought I’d treat you.” 

With a smile, you spent the rest of the dinner catching up with Minghao; work, your parents, your friends. For the first time it wasn’t silent, as if your relationship had completely reinvented itself. 

As Minghao was at the counter cutting the branches of the flowers, you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around him. Your head rested against his back, your eyes closed. “If you cut them at an angle, they’re able to absorb more water,” he told you. “Your beautiful bouquet will stay alive for a very long time.” 

You smiled. “I worked very hard on it.” You peeked up at him. “Can I tell you about the flowers?” 

His smile grew. “I would love to hear it.” 

“I picked the blue orchids first,” you said and looked out of the window. “I had never seen it before, but it’s a way to express that you think of someone as beautiful in a unique way. And Seungkwan told me it’s spiritual so naturally, I had to pick it.” 

“Flattered.” 

You grinned at him. “You should be.” 

“And then you chose red lilies,” Minghao continued, followed by a sheer cut. 

“I know it looks a little odd next to the orchid, but they’re a symbol of love. I thought a red rose was too standard, so Seungkwan showed me these.”

Minghao looked back at you. “You really put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?” 

“And I’m not even finished,” you said with a small smile, the heat flushing your cheeks. “I did pick white and pink roses because they made me think of you.”

He smiled and put the bouquet back into the vase as you let go of him. “Pink is joy and appreciation.” 

“And white symbolises a fresh start,” you added. You pointed at the daffodils on the side. “Just like those, moving away and transforming.”

“And pink camellias because you missed me.” Minghao bumped your hip. “Sappy.” 

You chuckled and bumped him back. 

He draped an arm around your shoulder and locked you into his side. “Thank you. Truly.” 

You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll do anything for you.” 

You finally regretted speaking that into existence when you found yourself in the flower shop again a couple of weeks later. Your eyes darted around before you looked back at Minghao. “Seriously?”

“You claim to know so much about this now,” he answered with a shrug. “I would love to see you make a bouquet for your own apartment.”

Shooting him a sweet smile, you traced his arm. “But aren’t you sad that you can’t do it for me anymore?”

“Nope.”

“Was worth a try.” You looked around again and your eyes landed on Seungkwan. When he looked back at you, his eyes lit up. 

He came over hurriedly. “You finally got her here!” 

You arched an eyebrow and turned to Minghao. 

“We’re here for some pieces for her apartment,” he said and placed a hand on the small of your back. “She’s going to pick them out herself, as she’s claiming to have the hang of it.”

Seungkwan bobbed his head, his upper lip curved upwards like he was impressed. He remained where we stood and smiled. “What are you looking for?”

“Something for my kitchen,” you answered and frowned. “Why does this feel like a test?” 

Behind you, Minghao chuckled. He pushed you forward gently and followed you to the daisies. “I told you she would go there first.” 

Seungkwan chuckled and joined you at the front of the shop. Instead of walking after him, you navigated the shop like it was your second home. With a bright smile, you walked out of the shop with the bouquet and your boyfriend back by your side. 

A place that you never thought you would ever step foot in had become like a second home in an oddly beautiful way. After your fight with Minghao, that very shop had brought you back to each other like no flow could. And this time, you wouldn’t drift away from each other anymore. 

In Australia, his car gave out in the middle of the race and he was forced to retire. In the moment, you’d thought nothing of it, just continuing your role of being his biggest support. ‘Just one bad start. It doesn’t mean that he’s out completely,’ commentators all around the world had declared. You had grounded yourself in that as well, and the next race, he managed to score a point despite the struggles he had with the car. 

When he DNF’ed again and his teammate went with him, heads started to turn. 

Not only did it put the pressure on the team to explain the possible causes, but Mingyu was reminded of his own words before the start of the season. He danced around it with curated precision, but made sure that the media were satisfied with his answer. Just like he practiced with his press officer. 

The answers he would give when he talked about you were no different. 

The media wouldn’t notice how his eyes clouded over, how he struggled to keep his shoulders straight and his smile on, as long as he kept saying the right words. Cherry-picking and feeding them to a group of people that had the power to twist them, but they never did. 

Mingyu always knew what to say, even in moments where there were no words left. 

You put the headphones down softly when the call came. The words hung in the air, suffocating all the people that were watching in the pit box with you. Your heart burned behind your ribcage. From the corner of your eye, people were shooting looks of sympathy, but you couldn’t focus on anything else than the pitlane. 

The air punched out of your lungs when Mingyu’s car was pushed inside. His white helmet with blue accents and the number 17 stuck out just above the car. He put the steering wheel on the front of the car alongside with the headrest, pulling himself up on the halo. 

The room pulsed as he took off his helmet, as if they were bracing themselves for a storm to come. Mingyu turned to you, his eyes scanning every inch of you. He walked up to you and stopped. 

You swallowed and played with your bracelet, but he pulled you into a hug. Your shoulders tensed before you relaxed in his arms, managing a weak smile. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbled in your neck. “It’s whatever.” 

You hummed and rubbed his back in small circle motions, but Mingyu broke free. He shot you a last look before walking away. As per usual, you left the pit box to go with him. You trailed next to him, taking two steps for every one he took. You laced your fingers together and he accepted your affection. He broke away when he took interviews, joining forces with his press officer. 

You watched from the sidelines as he gave the performance that he was trained for, as if this was just a small setback in his path to becoming world champion. 

Mingyu’s energy was contagious, and he never left the room without any. He was charming, accessible and easy to love. Compared to how he behaved when he was in the paddock, there wasn’t a difference between your boyfriend and the man that drove one of the fastest cars in the world. 

You still felt your heart skipping a beat, admiring how easily he could pull himself together and find the words without even hinting that he was frustrated with his performance, that he beat himself up for not pulling the weight and showing the results that he promised everyone. 

He was a breath of fresh air. 

You joined him again and walked to the pit box. His press officer waited outside his motorhome while you followed Mingyu inside. His hand rested on the small of your back when you stepped in. You pushed it away when the door closed behind you and walked to the couch. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” Mingyu announced, but you didn’t respond. He scoffed and slammed the door shut. 

You wondered if anyone had ever pinched through your act, even though there was nothing to prove that you weren’t on good terms. You always showed up together, holding hands, chatting and there was never a moment where your words – if someone ever approached you – were weighed carefully. Mingyu treated you like the world was your palace. That was the happy couple they’d been seeing for three years, ever since your relationship became public. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you were happy with Mingyu.  

The running water made you close your eyes, as if it was only you that existed. You liked it like that, when there was nobody around you for a couple of seconds. Since your relationship became public, you’d been in the spotlight. You chose to keep your life private regardless and Mingyu had always respected that.

Out of protection towards you, Mingyu’s current performance and the crumbs of your relationship that were left, all the energy you had went into pretending that everything was fine. Existing out of everyone’s eyes became your safe haven in moments where nothing could come to your aid. 

You peeked an eye open when the door opened and lifted your head. 

Mingyu hoisted himself into a fresh team shirt, a pair of jeans desperately clinging to his hips. He crinkled his nose and pulled his jeans up, tucking his shirt in. “Are you coming back to the pit box to watch the rest of the race?” 

“Do I have a choice?” You bit back. 

“I’m not in the race anymore, so yes, actually,” he answered calmly and finally looked up. His eyes were like a silent plea every time he looked at you. “Let me rephrase it. Will you be there for emotional support?”

You got off the couch with a scoff and followed him outside. You latched onto his bicep and leaned into him, your fingertips prickling as your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt. 

He pulled you in closer and leaned in. “Don’t forget you love me.” 

You smiled at him sweetly. “You’re very sure that I do.” 

Mingyu looked ahead of him, his arm tense. When you got back into the pit box, he pressed a kiss to your lips before you parted ways. He walked to the pitwall, where he joined the strategists and team principal, and you stood behind the barrier with your headphones. 

The rest of the race was a blur. You stared holes into Mingyu’s back, trying to guess what was going through his head. Secretly, you hoped that he was thinking about you, but those days had long passed. Whenever he thought of you, you knew that it bore resentment. He couldn’t look at you with anything else. Everything in front of the cameras was pretense. 

You went back to his motorhome as Mingyu joined his team in celebrating the podium. You didn’t care how long it would take him. Hell, you didn’t care if he wouldn’t return at all. Everywhere Mingyu went, cameras followed and you did enough pretending for one day. 

As you curled up on the couch, the door opened. The anger ached in your chest immediately, and you clutched your phone in your hand. You stared out of the window as a weight settled down next to you. 

The scent of cedar and citrus coated you in a thick blanket of comfort, no matter how much you didn’t want it to. Fighting only made it easier to lose yourself in it, so you let it. For a while you sat in silence, as if you were both stubbornly waiting for the other to speak. The pressure on your chest made you suffocate. 

“I’m going back to the hotel,” Mingyu finally said. 

You looked at him blankly. 

“You can choose to come with me, or you can stay behind and someone will come pick you up later.” 

“But?” You countered. 

Mingyu shot you a weak smile. “You know what I’m going to say.” 

You looked out of the window again and crossed your arms. 

He called your name softly. His hand slid to your thigh, burning up against your skin. When you pushed it away, he swallowed and shot you a small smile. “I get that this is not ideal–”

“Not ideal?” You interrupted, chuckling bitterly. “God, Mingyu, you have a lot of nerve to phrase it like that.” 

“Baby–”

“Not ideal is when you accidentally double booked yourself. This,” you pointed your finger between him and you, “all of the pretending and the cameras, this is exhausting and demoralising and I’m losing hope that it will ever be fixed.” 

Mingyu’s eyes widened, glimmering. He looked away and lowered his head. “I see,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.” 

You got off the couch and grabbed your purse. “We’re going back to the hotel. I can’t do this, not here.” 

But back at the hotel, you didn’t circle back to it. You were too tired to argue about it again, knowing that it wouldn’t fix anything. All Mingyu would tell you was that you had to hold out. It was only temporary and would blow over before you knew, but it’d been going on for months. Nothing was addressed and if anything, it was only getting worse. 

Although, you doubted that talking about it would fix anything at that point. 

You skipped dinner with Mingyu and ordered room service, munching on a fry as you stared into nothingness. The afternoon replayed in your head, nothing special since your little play, but it hadn’t cut a wound like usual, where you were left bleeding for days until you could look Mingyu in the eyes normally. 

As your eyes flicked to your plate, your phone rang. Mingyu’s caller ID usually made your heart skip a beat, but all you could do was stare at it blankly. Hearing his voice would flush your chest with warmth, and you would think to yourself how lucky you were with a man like him by your side. 

After enduring the past two months, you were hollowed out. 

You put the empty plate aside and threw the suitcase on your bed. You snatched the clothes off the chair and folded them. From the bathroom, you grabbed your toiletries and put them back in the bag. Your summer dress was replaced by a shirt and sweatpants and you did your hair the way you usually would. 

And before you knew it, you were on the plane back home. 

[insert divider here]

You cried yourself to sleep one night, but slept like an angel the next. Some days, Mingyu was on your mind and you couldn’t focus on anything and others he was merely an afterthought. On those weekends, you watched the races from the comfort of your own home. 

Sometimes you couldn’t even stomach the thought without bursting into tears. 

Mingyu had tried talking to you on multiple occasions, but you told him you needed space. You couldn’t be around him, not like this, and your absence was noticed. 

Like always, his words had landed with curated precision. He laughed, telling the camera that you were in a busy period with work. ‘The money doesn’t come from nowhere’, he’d teased. 

Your eyes stung with tears as you cursed underneath your breath. You turned the TV off and plopped on the couch, staring into the nothingness. 

Every time you saw him, flashing his canines at the camera mischievously, you were reminded of the times you were the one at the receiving end. Mingyu was one of the few people who could genuinely make you laugh. You hated your loud cackles, but Mingyu did everything in his power to pull them out of you. 

That was his victory smile, as he came to call it. 

You buried your head in your hands and sobbed all of the tears you’d been suppressing until you were a shell. Until there was nothing left for you to give anymore.