#p; thread

@ryjinwoo

“i think i might go crazy if i see another frilly white dress.” he lets out a huff, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily.

hyung gyu may be reserved, but he’s still human, and after spending an hour or so blinded by expensive, vanilla-colored clothing that probably cost more than his weight in gold (scratch that, more like the weight in gold of fifty hyung gyus if they each ate an entire buffet - no, he is not exaggerating), he thinks he might hate the color and never wants to see it again, even if it means that he won’t get married.

he gets the feeling that the man nearby him might also be feeling the same way, with their indifferent expression and lukewarm demeanor (which, normally, he would be sporting as well but right now he was just tired and grumpy, especially since he couldn’t just sleep on the job) as they watched the party, almost from afar.

they seem to take notice of his comment by the flicker in their eyes (perhaps amusement? or maybe annoyance?), and he looks at them from the corner of his peripheral with a slight smile.

@ryxnuying

it’s amusing how easy it was to go unnoticed.

he calmly winds his way through the gathering towards the table of refreshments, mimicking the same regal stature and uppity posture that he had seen from other royals.

hyung gyu could faintly feel the suspicious look of the other guard on his back as he politely excused himself under the guise of getting a drink, and disappeared into the crowd after a blur of faded rose.

was he actually thirsty? of course not.

his eyes, however, are glued onto a certain woman’s back.

pyo nuying.

his lips twitch, resisting the urge to break out into a wolfish grin because what were the odds?

he had expected the night to be dull and dreary, but oh, was it far from boring now.

he carefully balances a drink in his hands (he wouldn’t dare take a sip of it; the last time he spotted it from afar, haeun had gotten a bit too close to the punch bowl), and, as soon as he spots a pause in her movements, he pounces.

“princess nuying!”

her back stiffens at the name, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

like a mouse in a trap.

how lovely fate was to him sometimes.

he strides towards her slowly, a pleasant smile decorating his soft features.

(there’s clear mockery behind it. don’t be fooled.)

“i must say, you look far more pulchritudinous like this,”

he’s much closer now, and he can see her beautiful features quite clearly. his voice drops to a whisper, lips barely moving.

@ryxriah​

he’s used to handling himself in precarious situations. that was his job, after all.

so naturally, he has some street cred - he’s been staring down men twice his age and size ever since he was a kid. fighting came naturally to him; your body was always so much easier to control than words. although, he was no babbling idiot, of course - that was why he still had his job.

but this? standing around and looking tough (heck, even pretty) while a bunch of rich people danced the night away? it was laughable. yeah, it’s some important fancy stuff about “debuting” into society and “becoming a real woman”, but, wouldn’t you think having a security staff big enough to fit five rooms is a bit much? there were definitely going to be a bunch of drunk people around (read: drunk, wealthy, and important people), and he didn’t want to stick around to find out who’d have to clean up that mess.

there’s somewhat of a storm cloud that hovers around hyung gyu’s head as he walks down the dimly lit hallway of the hotel, long legs making short strides as to take as long as possible before returning to his position.

then again, he did have some time to kill.

his break had a few minutes left. he could take the scenic route, he supposed.

he turns a corner, hands in his pockets, when he sees something that makes his blood run cold.

there’s a woman, one of the guests that he had passed by at the beginning of the night. she had a stern look to her, and her eyes were piercingly sharp - when they bore into his, he can’t stop his eyes from widening just the slightest.

he is immediately made conscious of his loosened tie and tousled hair, and how he looked more like a businessman running late than a staff member of a prestigious event, and halts in his tracks.

@ryxhana​

fancy parties would never be his forte.

— actually, that was a lie; he really just wasn’t into parties in general. they were nothing but formalities, social events just for show and never of much substantial impact. so he can’t quite comprehend how someone could possibly take the time to plan something that seemed terribly, well, unimportant.

maybe it was because he rarely partook in festivities, either due to not having the time to or spending it elsewhere when he did. nevertheless, he watches the guests chatter away with a sour aura to him.

he was in a talkative mood today, for some strange reason - a scoff escapes his mouth, and he mutters something under his breath to no one in particular.

“y’know, for such a beautifully arranged event, it feels awfully so-so.”

it is then that he hears a sharp intake of breath behind him, and his head whips around to find the source of the sound.

shit. they heard him, didn’t they?

he inwardly slaps himself for his painful lack of tact before the corner of his lips quirks up into an awkward smile.

@ryjuyeon​

today was a day of reopened wounds, wrapped in expensive frills of silk and opaque pearls.

the male thinks this as he watches the lavish procession from the exit of the grandiose ballroom, arms crossed and back against the creme colored wall. it a pose unfitting for a professional royal bodyguard, but to be frank, the worst he could possibly get was a disapproving look from the other man beside him - he was notorious for being one of the youngest members of the guard; unenthusiastic and mildly irritable, but by far one of the most loyal. besides, he had an odd knack of befriending royal officials, so naturally, they were a little wary.

having deemed the situation in control hours ago, his eyes begin to wander.

(they already had a specific destination in mind, of course.)

he sees the lady in waiting among the sparkling dresses and richly colored suits, with her bright smile and glowing eyes, and follows her graceful movements with an indifferent expression. (his gaze tells a different story, however. it’s one of a subtle fascination and curiosity, possibly even sympathy.)

hyung gyu was, for a lack of better words, one of those kids who had been around for quite a while in the hyun household - he had just been put into service when the woman had suddenly appeared, with whispers trailing behind her. of course, you could never quite trust the words that came out of people’s mouths, but no matter which way you put it, it was quite a messy history.

and with the yangs here, too...

her eyes meet his, a pretty shade of brown collected on a smooth canvas, and when the corners of pale carmen lips rise, the side of his mouth raises into what was almost a smirk in response.

enjoying yourself?

he didn’t blame her - the fourth hyun princess could be quite intense at times, so letting off some steam wasn’t too bad, right? meanwhile, he hadn’t budged for around an hour or so, boredom festering and swelling inside him as he willed time to hurry up and get things over with.

@ryjaewon

the gentle smile that his lips curl into doesn’t quite reach his eyes - they burn thickly with exasperation, coal black tendrils of annoyance surrounding the flames like smoke.

“please forgive my impudence, but i implore that you refrain from consuming any more alcohol.”

...before you get into a fight that i’ll have to break up and probably kick you out for.

hyung gyu is more than aware that his words are filtering through the man’s head as if it was swiss cheese, full of holes. admittedly, the prince had been pretty damn good at hiding his intoxication, with his pristine suit and regal gait remaining impressively consistent as the clock hands turned and the crystal glasses emptied, but hyung gyu was raised with a keen eye - he knew better.

there’s a stutter in the yang’s walk, and his tongue seems to be somewhat of a dead weight; the slurred “i’m okay” just barely falls under the line between "sober” and “drunk as hell”, and he’s tempted to laugh at the stupidity of it all.

at this point, the only threat here was alcohol.

he shoots a glare at the approaching waiter holding a tray of glasses full to the brim from the corner of his eye, and holds back a sigh when they briskly change directions.

@cnxtaemin

this was, to say the least, uncalled for.

the man in front of him was baring his teeth, snapping. there’s a dark flame burning in his eyes, and in it a strange desperation to consume all that it can reach. they are opaque mirrors that consume taekwoon and spit him back out mangled, and in his mind, he wished to shrink into a corner and hope that the attractive man would forget he was there in the first place.

but his feet remain unmoving from where they stand, and, to put it simply, he is talked at. it was as if he had stopped in time the moment he had stepped outside his room, for his blank expression had remained the same as the minutes passed.

( a wolf, cornered by a hyena. a strange sight, wasn’t it? )

it is only when the words “sociopath” and “murderer” run by him that something flickers inside him - an incomprehensible amalgamation of displeasure and fear - and he growls back. it is then that he realizes that fingers are being pointed.

( his mind screams flight, but a world where fight is the only way to avoid being convicted of manslaughter, he is forced to stand his ground. )

he wants to hiss back at the man, to ask him what warrant he could possibly have to approach him on such grounds.

this wasn’t an interrogation. it was an accusation.

but he tames his anger as quickly as it flares up, and instead avoids the butler’s gaze.

“no.” he speaks evenly, calmly.

no, he was not a sociopath. no, he was not the murderer.

@ryyejin

for all the royal lessons of etiquette that you would expect a princess to partake in, they were absolutely terrible at staying scarce.

he’s strolling down the hallway with intentions of returning home and flopping face first into the mattress of his bed before they had to part approximately seven hours later (school was really such a pain) when he hears a faint noise to his right. he turns, and is met with a closed door - the room of one of the princesses...or at least, he remembered so.

fourth...yejin, was it?

there’s a muffled thunk, as if affirming his silent question. he knows it’s none of his business, but there’s a tiny flicker of uncertainty within him ignited by the noise, and he rests his hand on the smooth, golden doorknob.

he opens it quietly, with bated breath.

just take a quick peek. enough to see she’s okay, that’s all.

he definitely does not expect to see the fourth hyun princess with one foot out the window and in clothing that basically screamed i’m not supposed to be sneaking out but i’m doing so anyway - you can’t stop me.

it is very clearly a safety hazard, so he says the first thing he knows will stop her in her tracks.

(of course, knowing him, he may or may not have accidentally dropped all formalities at that very moment.)