HARSH WINDS

perhaps she had thought too lowly of his manners, or perhaps recent circumstance had caused her to lose faith in her own attractiveness, but she was only mildly surprised when he offered for her to stay. of course, her ind had forced her to stoutly believe that such an act was only done in the name of propriety and nothing else, despite her heart wishing fervently for something completely different. “alright.” she murmured, eyes never leaving his profile, only slightly aware of the smile tugging her lips. “so are you going to tell me why you have been avoiding me?” and why you miraculously find ahn yura the least bit attractive all of the sudden? 

her question did little to faze him, nor did it make him as truthful as he would’ve been. “no,” he answered instead, taking a sip of his drink, and enjoying the warmth that its fire brought to his throat. not enough of it bloomed in his chest. he sat on a single armchair, giving her no room beside him, and crossed his legs to ensure that she would not be able to sit upon him, either. 

ahn yura was a decent girl, and jiho was a vengeful man. he didn’t let go of grudges ( or failed loves -- what was the difference? ) so easily.

she frowned, realizing belatedly that her name left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, and the casual air to his answers only fuelled the astringent tightening of her heart. it unnerved her, and there as nothing she hated more than to be in an uncomfortable state. “they did.” she replied simply, offering no other explaining to why she chose to be as far away from the girl as she could. “should i-” she paused, eyes daring for him to answer– truthfully, for once. “shall i leave?” do you not wish to see me? do you wish me gone? 

“don’t play stupid. you know exactly what i’m talking about.” the more harsh he was – the more brash, the more blunt – then the people who were used enough to lying would back away. truth frightened people like her. neither of them had nothing to lose if he gave her his sincerity; at least, he couldn’t lose someone that he never had in the first place. not as completely as he wanted, anyway. “you’re upset about something.”

her heart ached. it did so unbearably as her eyes landed on his – and she had to close them instinctively, even though colour burst under the darkness of her lids. he had been too far, and she hated how it had become so, almost as much as she hated how unbearable to be without him. “him? him who?” playing stupid has never been one of her fortes, and she had to struggle to keep a straight face as she pushed pass him and inside his sanctuary. 

@ryjiho

things should not be made to merely exist, she thought – steadfastly, and it infuriates her to know that some would rather exist, than to serve their purpose. her fiancé, for one; chose to sit still instead of running ( and flying ) the way he could. she could not stand for it. and in her momentarily blindness in the face of her fury, she ran to the one place she should not; the arms of kim jiho – a man, who until very recently, owned the deepest crevice of her heart. ( of course, he knew none of it and she would rather kill herself than let it manifest itself into fruition ). she was by his door in a matter of minutes, rapping her knuckles against the familiar wood– 

( ‘ there’s a fine line between innocence and straight up madness that daehoon is starting to erase; maybe it’s because he’s a little drunk. there’s a taint of red on his every word, daehoon isn’t the leader of a ‘murder’ gang to not see through people ) I want him for – ( ‘  I want him dead, is what he wants to say ) never mind ( ‘ he says, returning the stranger’s smile with one of his own ) he says to find someone as charming as you ( ‘ he flirts and crosses his arms ) and those magic ‘pills’ ( ‘ he hints; sly ) 

sangwoo lets go of the man, looking him up and down quickly to check if the other had been hurt. thankfully, they’re not - the last time someone had ‘bumped’ into him he’d almost been sued, a situation thankfully cleared up with a very cheerfully worded threat and polite good bye. this man doesn’t seem interested in any sort of exploitation - oddly enough, he looks rather happy to be bumped into. sangwoo makes a note to avoid this person from now on. 

“not at all,” he says with a smile. whatever they want, sangwoo is sure it can’t be worse than sophisticated locker room talk. 

she scowled, but her fingers refused to stop its ministrations – eyes drawn to the road as her heart rate picked up ever so slightly at the speed he was going. he was angry – not like he wasn’t always were – but even moreso tonight, and she refused to believe that it was plainly because of her. it wasn’t as if she held a big part of his attention anyway. so she rolled her eyes at his words, and quipped – coldly and dripping with annoyance. 

“you annoy me plenty.” 

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jiho figured that, with her tone, and the way he so sharply spoke, that she would be annoyed enough to stop her ministrations. yet her hand ventured more, and as they neared his apartment building, the traffic began to build up. while she worked on his trousers, he made sure to brake as harshly as he could to piss her off even more. once his foot was safely on the pedal, he pulled his seat back a little, allowing her as much space as she pleased.

he would not give her the pleasure of seeing him caught off-guard.

she would love, in all her honesty, to not get annoyed at kim jiho, but sometimes he makes such a thing absolutely impossible to do– what with his sharp words ( how insolent! ) and terribly sarcastic manner. it was only because of her immense willpower to stay calm in all situations did she manage to keep a smooth mask of calm. or else she might’ve just snap him in half ( or at least, she could try ). 

with a roll of her eyes, she plugged her phone in – and out wafted some new-age jazz that she was listening to on her way to the party. “i hope this is sufficient for you.” she said simply, almost coldly to him. of course, it was hard to stay angry at him in a private, enclosed space; not with copious amount of alcohol in her system, and not while he’s looking like that, suit and all. so with all grace and smoothness, she placed a palm on his knee, trailing upwards just slightly for him to feel the pressure. 

“it hasn’t been a week and yet you need to blow off some steam, hm?” her voice barely a decibel louder than the soft waft of the music. she let her eyes wander to his profile, the sharp chisel of his jaw – the beautiful slope of his eyes. 

“good enough,” he replied dismissively, though wasn’t quite as dissatisfied by everything as he seemed. previous irritation made way for an even more disagreeable mood, and he doubted that heeyeon would put up with it had they been in a more open space. even in a locked room he didn’t doubt that she would find some way or another to avoid him. 

yet there was no reason to expect a preamble to her actions, but jiho found himself almost offended that there was none anyway; the palm on his knee hadn’t stayed there for a second to clue him in on her intentions until it travelled upwards. he didn’t expect intimacy until they were safely behind the closed door and drawn blinds of his apartment. both hands remained on the wheel, frown tightly drawn at his brow. 

“that’s because you stress me out,” this, of course, included what she was doing with her hand at the moment, and he shifted not-uncomfortably at the response his body gave, albeit gradually. if he felt any more patient, he would’ve grabbed her wrist and tugged it away; instead, he allowed her to continue.

kim jiho wasn’t like all the other men who fawned over her – not at the slightest. with one eyebrow she will beckon, and they will run towards her like hungry wolves, all awe and desire; and even vain heeyeon would have to admit that the lack of chasing ( the lack of playing the game, she would suppose ) did bore her terribly. but the man in front of her did not only play the game well, he also played it dirty. and she would have to lie through clenched teeth by saying that it doesn’t irk her, even for a little bit. 

she was about to open her mouth to retort – angrily, indignant as she should be at his impudence – but he was quick to say his piece, and disappeared without a trace. was this how it felt? to be dangled such a succulent meal without being able to take a taste? ( for she did not desire him more, surely not! ). so heeyeon took a minute to finish her flute of champagne – exactly a minute – before saying a quick goodbye to her brother ( who most definitely would be heading out seeing as she dared to do so ), and heading out the door. hating how obedient she is being. 

( she supposed she might get rewarded later. maybe. perhaps not. )

so she stood before him, her light coat draped around her shoulders – a scowl on her beautiful face. “how dare you behave so insolently to me! we’re in public.” asserting her position of power is something that hyun heeyeon does well, and painfully often – she’ll be damned if a mere tutor should be able to speak to her so candidly in public ( for what ever they did in private is a wholly different story ). “who do you think you are?” 

he had a few minutes to gather his coat and call for his car. it was by no means particularly flashy -- those things, he decided to save for places people couldn’t see, because a good con man wasn’t one who displayed his winnings so openly, in danger of being caught -- and not too shabby, either. his hands remained in his pockets until he was handed his keys by the valet, and he couldn’t even utter a word of thanks before he heard the angry clacking of heels on the floor to signal more important matters to attend to. 

“exactly who you think i am,” he answered, this time actually bothering to open the door for her with an exaggerated flourish and a motion for her to get in with a slight cock of his head to the side. “come on. cameras everywhere. can’t have you seen arguing with a commoner, now, can you?”

his speech began to slip. it had been a long night, and he had had more than his fair share of drink, but that was enough. jiho was impatient, and though he definitely should not be driving inebriated, he didn’t think this was enough to get into any accidents. the ride home should be fairly tame. what lay behind closed doors wouldn’t be. his envy was too prominent tonight for gentleness.

( ‘ it’s dark but he isn’t afraid of the dark, and yet the sight of a stranger with an appearance that gives himself away should make him feel otherwise. daehoon has been accustomed to things like this, which isn’t even worse to what the chief eunuch actually does for a living. so there he is, eyes that lack emotion as he bows his head as a greeting ) pleasant ( ‘ he says and smiles, looking over him casually ) I’ve come for the prince ( ‘ that’s all of what he says, playing safe as if he’s in a  chess game ) 

so he didn’t come with her – heeyeon did not know why that simple fact made her slightly more smug than she should be, especially since she herself did not have an escort for the night ( a subtle consideration to her courtship with the prince ). she wanted to say that she had humoured him enough – spitefully, a sentence full of secret lies. but she wont, for it would make her seem petty more than anything and there’s nothing worse than being caught as such. 

she tore her eyes away from him, fixedly staring at the array of expensive liquor and rare wines – ready to pick her poison ( for anything is preferable than the poison that is his words, his gaze ). settling for a french rosé, she turned so that her back leaned comfortably against the counter, her eyes sweeping the room at the glittering figures. of course, they were no match for her – in her sweepingly regal ensemble with her elegant updo; she looked every bit the regal queen. second to none. 

( not even to kim jiho. she refuses to believe so ) 

“so i’m here– what is it that you want?” 

she looked beautiful tonight, but that was a given, and among many other painted beautiful masks he liked to think that, if he annoyed her enough, her own would crack, and he’d get to see the ugly realness of her nothing behind it. ( maybe then, his own nothing would be validated. ) he made a point of pausing, and not looking at her -- not until he had to -- instead staring at the remaining liquid swirling with the ice in his glass, and drinking it quickly. by now he was used to it that his face no longer contorted into a light grimace.

“stop asking rhetorical questions. it’s annoying.” direct, as always, he finally looked at her, and did not ask for another drink, instead choosing to correct his posture out of habit. he was an etiquette tutor, and it would be ungodly-unfair if someone caught him not practicing what he preached. 

@ryjiho

he toys with the stem of his champagne flute, eyes flitting between it and his umpteenth non-descript conversation partner of the night. suited, balding, and on the last hole of his custom valentino belt. sangwoo spends more time thinking about what kind of narcissistic asshole gets a custom belt and less time actually focusing on the conversation at hand. it’s routine at this point; ‘my, how lovely those two princesses looked, isn’t the food delicious, do you think they’re engaged yet?’ 

sangwoo wonders if he can order a custom belt in time for the next royal gala. he thinks of the yang princes are having a birthday next month. 

(he’s thinking bull leather, supple, pulled taut around his fists, a neck-)

a waiter passes by, tray balanced perfectly, and sangwoo places the empty glass on it, murmuring a polite thank you to the server. the conversation has grown quiet, tired of the same topics being repeated over and over again and so he takes it as his cue to leave. 

this, of course, required him to walk through the crowd of stuck-up sob-story-toting bourgeoisie, and, as fate would have it, he almost truly fell back into the throng because of someone who turned around too quickly. he nodded as thanks for the split-second loss of composure, and fixed the sleeves of his suit promptly.

bed as soon as his eyes met her’s ( the gaze lingering a second or two too long for her liking ) she knew the faux text was just that – completely fake, and there was no way in god’s green earth that she would come when he beckons, he has another thing coming. so she spent another 10 more painstaking minutes of idle conversation about hairstyles and ( terrible ) opinions about the princesses’ outfits, before her eyes lingered over to the bar at the lone figure with eyes flashing over to her’s. she felt her heart skipped a knowing beat. 

“if you’ll excuse me ladies, i believe that my mother is in dire need of my company.” the two swept into twin curtseys before continuing their ever vapid conversation, and heeyeon was far too glad to see the back of them. 

“champagne, please.” she murmured at the bartender, leaning on the shiny marble surface – a respectable distance from the man she had embraced between her sheets just a week prior. she glanced sideways, before she turned her head coyly – a polite little smile on her face. “haven’t been having too much fun with her, are we?” 

heeyeon -- no, the duchess -- arrived later than jiho expected, but she arrived nonetheless, as he expected her to. a second later and he would’ve gotten up to leave. spending too long at the bar alone was a pitiful sight, and even more if he left alone, and jiho needed to keep up appearances if he wanted to move up broken rungs; into the bed of a duchess, behind the cover of locked doors and drawn curtains, was simply not enough. 

tonight, whiskey was a preferable poison to heeyeon. that she made him wait grated on his nerves a little, and he didn’t bother to answer her ( possibly ) rhetorical question. “you figure you humoured them enough?” he asked instead, taking a sip of alcohol that he could afford now; that his parents would have to break their back to get a taste of, if they ever grew the ambition and desire for it.

it she did not understand the audacity that managed to present itself in front of her, for kim jiho knew better than to ambush her so in public – even though she knew perfectly well how to handle herself. their last interaction did not go as smoothly as it normally would, regardless of the new information that had presented itself. she wanted to positively hit him on the head for bringing ms. gaudy into the mix. one perfectly dull countess is enough in a conversation, thank you very much. 

“miss. seo, how lovely to see you again.” she thanked the lords above for letting her remember the lady’s name == her memory of associating people’s faces and shortcomings to their names presented itself useful at this time. “i’m sure mr. kim’s company is better suited to manipulated for your own, no? and oh- what lovely shoes you are wearing!” 

( yes, but definitely not paired with that dress ) 

“the countess and i were just discussing the absolute beauties that the young ladies are turning into, it seems like only yesterday that i found them tripping over one another in the nursery as toddlers!” a tinkling laughter, a sip of champagne– she managed to only then turn her gaze at the male – impassive and brilliant as always. 

bedtime habits were very telling. the expression on her face told him that heeyeon was not quite pleased with the new introduction to the conversation. without the attention poured on him, his vain sensibilities were slightly insulted, and despite the company of beautiful ladies, he found himself utterly bored out of his mind by idle talk of the dresses and recollections of people who’ve lived this lifestyle a thousand times over since before they knew who they were and what they were to do and who they were to marry.

( and it was envy, he thought, that sickened him most. )

the rearing monster comes out to play every once in a while to the glee of some and the despair of others would either @ryjiho or her ever show their true colours? 

the party was in full swing, her cousins looked beautiful — it’s in the genes, she would insist — and she had danced with her betrothed under the gazes of the entire court. it was a liberating feeling, truly. but as she stood to the side, laughing amongst other nobles, her eyes could not help but to stray around the room at the various attendees, looking for one in particular. one of whom looks particularly attractive in a suit, with his wide shoulders and all.

she spotted kim jiho just a little way down the large hall, talking to some lady dressed in gaudy green, heeyeon had to snort quietly into her champagne glass, pretending that the countess she was talking to said something particularly hilarious. of course, she could not find her laughter so much at all as she saw ms. gaudy positively shriek herself into a stupor of her own brand of unattractive laughter.

strange, considering kim jiho has never been considered funny, at all.

but he laughed anyway to whatever triviality the lady told him, and spared no glance at the gaze he felt so familiarly upon his back.