duchess of plague

well!  sungkyu  is  at  a  loss  for  words.  in  a  house  with  movie  stars  and  extroverts,  he  never  expected  to  be  the  one  to  be  sought  after.  his  surprise  is  worn  on  his  face,  his  lashes  fluttering  as  he  blinks  away  the  disbelief.

“  wait.  really?  me? ”        a  perfect  gentleman?  is  sungkyu  blushing?  he  reaches  out  to  accept  the  bottle  with  both  hands,  offering  a  small  dip  of  his  head  in  thanks.  she  really  has  been  watching  him,  huh?  does  she  see  how  he  turns  his  nose  up  at  the  embalming  fluid  when  he  has  to  take  it  normally?  is  that  why  she  decided  to  flavor  it?         “  that’s  so  kind  of  you  to  bring  me  something  —  i  love  grenadine!  ”

one  of  the  few  sweet  syrups  he  can  taste  with  little  to  no  issue  —  did  she  know  that  too?  duchess  —  so  she  is  royalty!  should  he  bow  more?  how  should  he  address  her?  he  hugs  his  gift  to  his  chest  like  a  treasure  —  the  decorative  bottle  sure  makes  it  feel  that  way.

“  uhm,  may  i  ask  how  you  have  been  watching  me?  like,  with   magic?  do  you  get  visions  like  yoojin?  ”        she  seems  much  too  whimsical  for  regular  old,  traditional,  non-magical  stalking.  then  again,  so  does  felix,  so  he  really  can’t  be  too  sure. 

She’s smiling now, encouraged by his friendliness. Perhaps she should have expected it: she has yet to see him treat any stranger unkindly. Still, her heart pounds in her chest, nerves aflame. Her confidence hasn’t completely returned to her yet. She can’t help but dwell on how pitiful and stupid she must have looked when he first laid eyes on her.

         “I liked you immediately. Of course.”          As far as she can tell, everyone does. It’s easy to like him; it comes naturally.          “I know this must all be very strange. I had a much cleaner introduction in my head before, but the dogs scared it away with their barking.” 

She dares to flutter closer, eyes flickering briefly to the seam at his throat. She wants very much to touch it, but fears being too forward—and it would be awfully rude to make such a request so soon. Quickly, she redirects her attention back to his face, his eyes. 

it’s  very  rare  that  one  finds  themself  alone  at  zero’s  house,  or  at  least  that’s  sungkyu’s  experience.  maybe  it’s  because  he  has  always  chosen  to  orbit  around  one  of  the  many  people  who  call  this  place  home,  maybe  it’s  because  he  might  as  well  be  sewn  together  at  the  hip  with  yoojin  and  usually  goes  with  him  anywhere.  there  is  peace  in  the  quiet,  but  it’s  lonely  too  —  he  doesn’t  like  it  as  much  as  he  thinks  he  should.

so  he  pushes  the  furniture  of  his  room  off  to  the  side,  pulls  yoojin’s  full  length  mirror  out  of  the  closet  and  balances  it  against  the  wall  —  a  makeshift  dance  studio  of  his  very  own,  stuffed  animal  onlookers  lining  the  dancefloor.  he  finds  comfort  in  their  lifeless  staring  eyes,  in  their  sewn  together  seams.  just  like  him.  shorts  and  a  high  cropped  shirt,  his  own  seams  on  display.  he  doesn’t  find  them  as  repulsive  when  he  dances.  maybe  this  can  be  a  way  to  finally  accept  what’s  happened  to  him,  to  learn  to  love  what  he  has  become.

he  hadn’t  even  had  a  chance  to  break  a  sweat  before  he  can  hear  the  dogs  barking  over  the  music  in  his  headphones,  not  that  he  could  break  a  sweat  if  he  tried  anyways.  he  peaks  from  the  door,  figuring  it  must  be  one  of  the  many  residences  finally  coming  home.  sungkyu  is  prepared  to  wave,  to  smile  and  welcome  them  home.

but  he  pauses.  who  is  this?  no  one  can  truly  look  out  of  place  here,  and  yet  somehow  she  does.  it’s  as  if  she  jumped  right  off  the  pages  of  a  fairytale  novel,  or  maybe  a  gothic  horror.  he  looks  down  at  himself,  his  exposed  seams,  then  back  at  her  and  her  distress.  mortification  —  how  would  she  react  to  seeing  them?  should  be  go  back  in  his  room  and  change  before  he  intervenes?  oh,  what  to  do!

“  whoa!  puppies,  조용히  해주세요!  ”       sungkyu  finally  scurries  from  his  room,  still  hastily  pulling  the  hoodie  over  his  torso  as  he  begins  to  herd  the  dogs  away  from  the  princess  (?)  in  the  hallway.        “  i’m  so  sorry,  they  get  so  excited  to  meet  new  people  they  just  don’t  know  what  to  do  with  themselves  sometimes!  ”

he  decided  to  distract  them  with  rawhide  treats  —  it  works  like  a  charm.  one  treat  to  each  of  them  and  suddenly  they  have  no  interest  in  what’s  going  on  around  them.  the  corpse  boy  offers  another  apologetic  smile  before  dipping  in  a  small  bow.

“  are  you  here  for  someone?  i’m  the  only  one  here  right  now,  but  i  can  show  you  the  library  where  you  can  wait  if  you’d  like!  ”

Duchess rubs her eyes, hoping to mask the bleary threat of tears, and watches Sungkyu guide the animals’ attention elsewhere. His smile puts her a little more at ease, reminding her why she came here in the first place. She thinks of her terrible lonely vision and makes a conscious commitment to see this through.

          “Thank you.”          Her voice is smaller than usual. She clears her throat and forces herself to hold her head high.         “I’m afraid I don’t know how to handle dogs very well. If only it had been the lion instead, then… Anyway, actually, I—oh, this is just awful, I wanted to make a better impression—I came for you.”

She wrings her hands, nervous. Now she doesn’t dare look into a mirror. The sight of her own insecurity will only worsen it. Awkwardly, she dips into a curtsey.

         “I’ve been watching you for some time now. I think—I think you are a perfect gentleman, Sungkyu, and I’ve—well, I’m on this divine mission…”         This is no way to clarify things. Suddenly she’s inarticulate. She tries to laugh her frustration away, hiding behind her hair.          “I wanted—I wanted to meet you, is the point. I’m Duchess. I’ve brought you some embalming fluid to drink. I’ve seen you sipping on it. Um, I added some grenadine, I hope that’s alright. It didn’t smell very pleasurable and I wanted to bring something that would taste nice.”